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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30222 ***
+
+THE
+
+STRAND MAGAZINE
+
+_An Illustrated Monthly_
+
+Vol. 5, Issue. 27.
+
+March 1893
+
+
+[Illustration: "BY HEAVEN," CRIED RUY LOPEZ, "THE DUKE SHALL FINISH HIS
+GAME!"
+
+(_A Game of Chess_.)]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+A GAME of CHESS.
+
+FROM THE FRENCH.
+
+
+I.
+
+King Phillip II. was playing at chess in the Escurial Palace. His
+opponent was Ruy Lopez, a humble priest, but a chess player of great
+skill. Being the King's particular favourite, the great player was
+permitted to kneel upon a brocaded cushion, whilst the courtiers grouped
+about the King were forced to remain standing in constrained and painful
+attitudes.
+
+It was a magnificent morning. The air was perfumed with the orange
+groves, and the violet curtains of the splendid hall hardly softened the
+burning rays which streamed in through the windows. The blaze of living
+light seemed scarcely in harmony with the King's gloomy countenance. His
+brow was black as night, and from time to time he bent his eyes
+impatiently upon the door. The nobles stood in silence, darting meaning
+glances at each other. It was easily to be discerned that some event of
+great importance weighed upon the spirits of the assembly. No one paid
+any attention to the chess-board except Ruy Lopez, who, as he moved the
+pieces, hesitated between the temptation of checkmating his opponent and
+the deference due to his King. The silence was unbroken except by the
+sound made by the players moving their pieces.
+
+Suddenly the door opened, and a man of rude and savage aspect advanced
+into the hall, and, presenting himself before the King, stood waiting
+his commands to speak. This man's appearance was anything but
+prepossessing, and on his entrance the nobles, as if animated with one
+thought, shrank back with contempt and loathing, as if some unclean
+animal had entered into their midst. His massive, herculean figure was
+clad in a doublet of black leather, and his face, in which could be seen
+no trace of intelligence, expressed, on the contrary, nothing but
+vileness and villainy; a great scar, running right across his face and
+losing itself in a bushy beard, added still further to the natural
+brutality of his countenance.
+
+An electric thrill ran through the assembly. The new comer was Fernando
+Calavar, high executioner of Spain.
+
+"Is he dead?" asked the King, in an imperious tone.
+
+"No, sire," replied Calavar, bowing low.
+
+The King frowned.
+
+"Great Sovereign of Spain," Calavar continued, "the prisoner has claimed
+his privileges, and I cannot take proceedings against a man whose blood
+belongs to the noblest in Spain, without having a more imperative order
+from your Majesty," and he bowed again.
+
+The nobles, who had listened with great attention to these words, broke
+into a murmur of approbation as the man finished speaking. The proud
+Castilian blood rushed like a stream of lava through their veins, and
+dyed their faces crimson. The manifestation became general. Young Alonza
+D'Ossuna openly asserted his opinion by putting on his plumed cap. His
+bold example was followed by the majority of the nobles, and their lofty
+nodding crests seemed to proclaim with defiance that their masters
+protested in favour of the privilege, which the hidalgos of Spain have
+always enjoyed, of covering their heads before their Sovereign.
+
+The King gave a furious start, and striking his fist violently upon the
+chess-board, scattered the chessmen in all directions.
+
+"He has been judged by our Royal Court of Justice," he cried, "and
+condemned to death. What does the traitor demand?"
+
+"Sire!" replied the executioner, "he asks permission to die upon the
+block, and also to pass the three last hours of his life with a priest."
+
+"Ah, that is granted!" replied Philip, in a tone of relief. "Is not our
+confessor in the prison according to our orders?"
+
+"Yes, sire!" said Calavar, "the holy man is there; but the Duke refuses
+to see St. Diaz de Silva. He says he cannot receive absolution from
+anyone below the dignity of a Bishop. Such is the privilege of a noble
+condemned to death for high treason."
+
+"Yes, these are our rights!" boldly interrupted the fiery D'Ossuna; "and
+we claim from the King our cousin's privileges."
+
+This demand acted as a signal.
+
+"Our rights and the King's justice are inseparable," cried Don Diego de
+Tarraxas, Count of Valence, an old man of gigantic stature, clothed in
+armour, holding in his hands the bâton of Great Constable of Spain, and
+leaning upon his long Toledo blade.
+
+"Our rights and our privileges!" cried the nobles, repeating the words
+like an echo. Their audacity made the King start with fury from his
+ebony throne.
+
+"By the bones of Campeador!" he cried. "By the soul of St. Jago! I have
+sworn neither to eat nor sleep until the bleeding head of Don Gusman
+lies before me. As I have sworn, so shall it be. But Don Tarraxas has
+said well, 'The King's justice confirms his subjects' rights.' My Lord
+Constable, where does the nearest Bishop reside?"
+
+"Sire, I have more to do with camp than with the Church," the Constable
+replied, somewhat abruptly. "Your Majesty's chaplain, Don Silvas, is
+present: he can tell you better than I."
+
+Don Silvas began to speak in trepidation.
+
+[Illustration: "WHAT DOES THE TRAITOR DEMAND?"]
+
+"Sire," he said, humbly, "the Bishop of Segovia is an official of the
+King, but he who filled the duty died last week, and the parchment which
+names his successor is still upon the Council table, and is yet to be
+submitted to the Pope's seal."
+
+At these words a joyous smile hovered about D'Ossuna's lips. This joy
+was but natural, for the young man was of the blood of the Gusmans, and
+his cousin, the condemned prisoner, was his dearest friend. The King
+perceived the smile, and his eye shot forth lightning.
+
+"We are the King!" he said, gravely, with the calm which presages a
+storm; "our Royal person must be no butt for raillery. This sceptre
+appears light, my lords, but he who ridicules it shall be crushed
+thereby as with a block of iron. I believe that our holy father the Pope
+is somewhat indebted to us, so that we do not fear his displeasure at
+the step which we are about to take. Since the King of Spain can make a
+Prince, he can also make a Bishop. Rise, then, Don Ruy Lopez. I create
+you Bishop of Segovia. Rise, I command you, and take your rank in the
+Church."
+
+The courtiers stood dumfounded.
+
+Don Ruy Lopez rose mechanically. His head was whirling, and he stammered
+as he strove to speak.
+
+"If your Majesty pleases----" he began.
+
+"Silence, my Lord Bishop!" replied the King. "Obey your Sovereign. The
+formalities of your installation shall be performed another day; our
+subjects will not fail to acknowledge our wishes in this affair. Bishop
+of Segovia, go with Calavar to the condemned man's cell. Give absolution
+to his soul, and in three hours leave his body to the executioner's axe.
+As for you, Calavar, I will await you here; you will bring us the
+traitor's head. Let justice be accomplished."
+
+Then Philip turned to Ruy Lopez.
+
+"I give you my signet ring," he said, "to show the Duke as a token of
+the truth of your story."
+
+The executioner left the chamber, followed by Ruy Lopez.
+
+"Well, gentlemen," said the King, turning to the others, "do you still
+doubt the King's justice?"
+
+But the nobles answered not a word.
+
+The King, having taken his seat, made a sign to one of his favourites to
+place himself before the chess-board, and Don Ramirez, Count of Biscay,
+accordingly knelt down upon the velvet cushion.
+
+"With a game of chess, gentlemen," said the King, smiling, "and your
+company, I cannot fail to make the time pass agreeably. Let no one leave
+the chamber until Calavar's return. We cannot spare a single one of
+you."
+
+With these ironical words, Philip commenced a game with Don Ramirez,
+whilst the nobles, almost dropping with fatigue, resumed the positions
+about their august master which they had occupied at the beginning of
+this story.
+
+
+II.
+
+Calavar, leading the way, conducted the new Bishop to the condemned
+man's cell. Ruy Lopez walked like one in a dream. Was he awake, or not?
+He hardly knew. At the bottom of his heart he cursed the King and his
+Court. He understood perfectly that he had become Bishop of Segovia, but
+he felt deeply at what a price he had bought his dignity. What had Don
+Gusman done that he should be thus sacrificed? Don Gusman, the best
+chess player in Spain! He thought of all this as he proceeded over the
+marble flags which led to the State prison, and as he thought he prayed
+that the ground would open and swallow him up.
+
+Don Gusman was pacing impatiently up and down his narrow cell with a
+hurried step that betrayed the feverish anxiety of his mind. The cell
+was furnished with a massive table and two heavy wooden stools, the
+floor being covered with coarse, thick mats. Shut out from all the
+noises of the outer world, here silence reigned supreme. A crucifix,
+roughly carved, was fixed to the wall in the niche of a high window,
+which was carefully barred with iron. Except for this image of
+resignation and mercy, the walls were bare. Well might this dungeon
+serve as antechamber to the tomb.
+
+As Ruy Lopez entered the cell a sudden burst of sunshine flooded the
+walls as if in bitter mockery of him who was soon to see it no more.
+
+The Duke saluted the new Bishop with great courtesy. They regarded each
+other, and exchanged in that look a thousand words which they alone
+could understand. Ruy Lopez felt the painfulness of his position deeply,
+and the Duke understood his embarrassment. Their thoughts were both the
+same, that in the condemnation of one of the principal favourites of the
+King an innocent life was threatened! The proofs of the crime imputed to
+the Duke were grave; the most important being a despatch written in Don
+Gusman's hand to the French Court, in which he unfolded a scheme for
+assassinating Philip II. This had sufficed to condemn him.
+
+Don Gusman, strong in his innocence, had kept a rigorous silence when
+brought before his judges, and the accusation not being denied,
+sentence of death was passed upon him. Don Gusman since his
+incarceration had not altered. He had braved the storm, and looked upon
+death with an unmoved countenance. His last hours had no terrors for
+him. If his forehead was overshadowed, if his steps were agitated and
+his breathing hurried, it was because there rose before his eye the
+image of his betrothed, Dona Estella, who, ignorant of her lover's fate,
+was waiting for him in her battlemented castle on the banks of the
+Guadalquiver. If he felt weak at this fatal moment, and if a pang shot
+through his heart, it was because his thoughts were of her who was to
+him the dearest thing in all the world.
+
+[Illustration: "RUY LOPEZ ENTERED THE CELL."]
+
+Ruy Lopez had not entered alone. Calavar was at his side; and it was he
+who announced to the Duke the King's decision and reply. Ruy Lopez
+confirmed the executioner's words, and the Duke, falling on his knees
+before the new Bishop, asked his blessing, then turning to Calavar with
+a gesture of authority, he dismissed him, saying:--
+
+"In three hours I shall be at your disposal."
+
+Calavar obeyed him and went out, and the Duke and Bishop were left
+alone.
+
+Ruy Lopez was trembling with nervousness, whilst Don Gusman's face wore
+a calm and serene expression. He took the Bishop's hand, and wrung it
+warmly. There was a pause. The Duke was the first to break the silence.
+
+"We have met before in happier circumstances," he said, smiling.
+
+"It is true," stammered Ruy Lopez, who, pale and agitated, resembled
+rather the penitent than the confessor.
+
+"Much happier," repeated the Duke, absently. "Do you remember, when you
+played your celebrated game of chess with Paoli Boy, the Sicilian, in
+the presence of the King and Court, that it was upon my right arm that
+the King leant?" Then after a pause he continued: "Do you remember also,
+father, those words of Cervantes, 'Life is a game of chess?' I have
+forgotten the exact place in which the passage occurs, but its meaning
+is, that upon earth men play different rôles. There are, as in chess,
+kings, knights, soldiers, bishops, according to their birth, fate and
+fortune; and when the game is over death lays them all as equals in the
+tomb, even as we gather together the chessmen into a box."
+
+"Yes, I remember those words of Don Quixote," replied Don Lopez,
+astonished at this singular conversation, "and I remember also Sancho's
+reply: 'That however good the comparison was, it was not so new that he
+had not heard it before.'"
+
+"I was your favourite pupil, even your rival," said the Duke, without
+appearing to hear Don Lopez.
+
+"It is true," cried the Bishop. "You are a great master of the game, and
+I have been often proud of having such a pupil. But now, on your knees,
+my son."
+
+They knelt down together, and there before the crucifix Don Gusman made
+confession to Ruy Lopez, who as he listened could hardly restrain his
+tears.
+
+When the Duke had finished, two hours after--for the confession under
+the Church seal was long and touching--the Bishop blessed the prisoner,
+and gave him absolution. The face of Don Gusman, as he rose, was calm
+and resigned.
+
+[Illustration: "THEY KNELT DOWN TOGETHER."]
+
+But there remained still an hour to wait.
+
+"This delay is torture," cried the Duke. "Why do they not cut off the
+prisoners at once, instead of stretching their souls upon such a rack of
+agony? An eternity of suffering is in each of these minutes." And the
+prisoner began to walk impatiently to and fro, with his eyes constantly
+bent upon the door. The Duke's firmness was shaken by the thought of
+that weary hour of waiting. Ruy Lopez had fulfilled his duty. The
+prisoner's soul was purified, and now the priest could become the
+friend.
+
+As Don Lopez heard Don Gusman utter this exclamation, and saw his face
+grow white, he understood what agony he was undergoing, and felt at once
+that something must be done to divert his thoughts. But in vain he
+racked his brain for an idea. He could think of nothing. What could he
+propose to a man about to die? For such as he, the flower has no longer
+perfume, woman has no longer beauty. Then suddenly a thought flashed
+across his brain.
+
+"How would a game of chess--" he began, timidly.
+
+"An excellent idea!" cried Don Gusman, recalled to himself by this
+singular proposal. "A farewell game of chess."
+
+"You consent?"
+
+"Most readily; but where are the chessmen, my friend?"
+
+"Am I not always provided with the instruments of war?" said Ruy Lopez,
+smiling. Then he pulled forward the two stools and set out upon the
+table a microscopic set of chessmen. "Our Lady pardon me!" he continued.
+"I often pass my spare time in the confessional in working out some
+problem."
+
+The chessmen being set out, the players took their seats, and were soon
+absorbed in the excitement of the game.
+
+This strange contest, between a priest and a condemned prisoner, made a
+picture worthy of the brush of Rembrandt or Salvator Rosa. The light
+which streamed from the arched windows fell upon the pale, noble
+features of Don Gusman, and upon the venerable head of Ruy Lopez.
+
+The emotions of the two players were very different. Ruy Lopez played
+with a preoccupation which was not usual to him, and which rendered him
+much inferior to his ordinary strength. Don Gusman, on the contrary,
+stimulated by excitement, played with more than his ordinary skill. At
+this moment his noble Castilian blood did not fail him, for never had
+the Duke given better proof of the clearness of his mind. Such a flash
+of intellect must be compared to the last flickers of the failing lamp,
+or to the last song of the dying swan.
+
+Don Gusman suddenly attacked his adversary with an impetuosity which
+nearly gained him a certain victory; but Ruy Lopez, recalled to himself
+by this vigorous effort, defended himself bravely. The game became more
+and more complicated. The Bishop strove to gain a mate which he saw, or
+believed he saw, at hand, whilst Don Gusman played with the eagerness of
+certain victory. Everything was forgotten, and time passed unnoticed.
+The chess-board was their universe, and a life of anxiety was in each
+move.
+
+The minutes, the quarters, the half-hours flew by, and the fatal hour
+arrived at last.
+
+A distant sound struck on their ears; it grew nearer, it increased, and
+the door swinging open gave admittance to Calavar and his assistants,
+who advanced into the cell with torches in their hands. They were armed
+with swords, and two of them bore the block, covered with a black cloth,
+on which lay an axe.
+
+[Illustration: "THE GAME BECAME MORE AND MORE COMPLICATED."]
+
+The torches were placed in the receptacle prepared for them, whilst one
+of the men scattered cedar sawdust on the floor. All this was the work
+of a moment, while the executioner stood waiting for the prisoner.
+
+As Calavar entered, Ruy Lopez started to his feet, in a tremor of alarm,
+but the Duke did not move. His eyes were fixed upon the chess-board. It
+was his turn to play. Calavar, seeing his abstracted gaze, advanced to
+the Duke's side and placed his hand upon his shoulder.
+
+"Come," he said.
+
+The prisoner shuddered as if he had trodden upon a serpent.
+
+"I must finish this game," he said, imperiously.
+
+"It is impossible," Calavar replied.
+
+"But, fellow, the game is mine! I can force mate in a few moves. Let me
+play it out."
+
+"I cannot. It is impossible," repeated the executioner.
+
+"Are the three hours gone already?"
+
+"The last stroke has just struck. We must obey the King."
+
+The assistants, who had until then stood leaning on their swords, came
+forward at these words.
+
+The Duke was sitting against the wall, under the high window, with the
+table between him and Calavar. He started to his feet.
+
+"I shall not move until the game is over. In half an hour my head shall
+be at your disposal."
+
+"My lord," replied Calavar, "I respect you deeply, but I cannot grant
+you this request. I answer for your life with mine."
+
+Don Gusman made a gesture of impatience, and pulling off his diamond
+rings, he threw them at the executioner's feet. "I mean to finish the
+game," he said, carelessly.
+
+The jewels sparkled as they rolled and settled in the dust.
+
+"My orders are imperative," cried Calavar, "and you must pardon us,
+noble Duke, if we have to use force; but the King's orders and the law
+of Spain must be carried out. Obey, then, and do not waste your last
+moments in a useless struggle. Speak to the Duke, my lord Bishop. Tell
+him to submit to his fate."
+
+Ruy Lopez's reply was as prompt as it was decisive. He seized the axe
+which lay upon the block and swung it with both hands above his head.
+
+"By Heaven!" he cried, "the Duke _shall_ finish his game!"
+
+Scared by the gesture which accompanied these words, Calavar drew back
+in such a fright that he stumbled and fell back on his companions. The
+swords flashed from their scabbards, and the band prepared for attack.
+But Ruy Lopez, who appeared to have put forth the strength of a
+Hercules, cast upon the ground his heavy wooden stool.
+
+"The first of you who passes this limit dies!" he cried in a loud voice.
+"Courage, Duke!--to the attack! There are only four of these miscreants.
+The last desire of your Grace shall be gratified, were I to lose my life
+in the attempt. And you, wretched man, beware how you lay a finger upon
+a Bishop of the Church. Down with your swords and respect the Lord's
+anointed!" And Ruy Lopez continued to hurl forth, in a jargon of
+Spanish and Latin, one of those formulas of excommunication and
+malediction which at that period acted so strongly upon the masses of
+the people.
+
+The effect was prompt. The men stood rooted to the spot with terror,
+whilst Calavar, thinking that to kill a Bishop without a sealed order
+from the King was to run the risk of putting his life in jeopardy in
+this world and his soul in the next, avowed himself vanquished. He knew
+not what to do next. To rush with the news to the King, who was waiting
+impatiently for Don Gusman's head, was only to expose himself. To attack
+the prisoner and the priest would be too hazardous, for Ruy Lopez was a
+man of no mean strength. The position of affairs was critical. At last
+he decided to take the easiest way out of the difficulty--to wait.
+
+"Will you promise me faithfully to give yourself up in half an hour?" he
+demanded of Don Gusman.
+
+"I promise," replied the Duke.
+
+"Play on, then," said the executioner.
+
+The truce being thus concluded, the players returned to their seats and
+their game, whilst Calavar and his companions, forming themselves into a
+circle, stationed themselves round the two players. Calavar, who was
+himself a chess player, looked on with interest, and could not prevent
+himself from involuntarily considering each move the players made.
+
+Don Gusman looked up for an instant upon the circle of faces which
+surrounded him, but his _sang froid_ did not abandon him.
+
+"Never have I played in the presence of such a noble company!" he cried.
+"Bear witness, rascals, that at least once in my life I have beaten Don
+Lopez." Then he returned to the game with a smile upon his lips. The
+Bishop gripped the handle of the axe which he still held in his hand.
+
+"If I were only sure of escaping from this tigers' den," he thought, "I
+would break every head of the four of them."
+
+
+III.
+
+If three hours had dragged in the prisoner's cell, they had not passed
+more quickly in the Royal chamber of King Philip.
+
+The King had finished his game with Don Ramirez de Biscay, and the
+nobles, still compelled from etiquette to remain standing, appeared
+almost ready to drop with fatigue, rendered still more painful from the
+weight of their armour.
+
+Don Tarraxas stood motionless, with closed eyes like one of those iron
+figures which ornamented the castles of the savage Goths. Young
+D'Ossuna, with drooping head, stood propped against a marble pillar,
+whilst King Philip strode impatiently about the apartment, only stopping
+at intervals to listen to some imaginary noise. According to the
+superstitious custom of the age, the King knelt for a few moments at the
+foot of a figure of the Virgin placed upon a porphyry pedestal to pray
+the Madonna to pardon him the deed of blood which was about to take
+place. Silence reigned, for no one, whatever his rank might be, dared to
+speak before his Sovereign without his commands.
+
+As the King's eyes saw the last grain of sand fall in the hour-glass he
+uttered an exclamation of joy.
+
+"The traitor dies!" he cried.
+
+An almost inaudible murmur ran through the assembly.
+
+"The hour is passed, Count of Biscay," said Philip, turning to Don
+Ramirez, "and with it your enemy."
+
+"My enemy, sire?" asked Ramirez, affecting surprise.
+
+"Why do you repeat my words, Count?" replied the King. "Were you not a
+rival to Don Gusman in the affections of Dona Estella, and can rivals be
+friends? Dona Estella shall be yours. This young girl will bring you her
+beauty and her fortune. I have not spoken of this to our Council, but my
+Royal word is pledged. If the ingratitude of Sovereigns is ever spoken
+of before you, Count, you will be able to reply that we did not forget
+the true friend of the King and of Spain who discovered the plot and the
+correspondence of Don Gusman with France."
+
+Don Ramirez de Biscay seemed to listen to the King with uneasiness. He
+kept his eyes fixed upon the ground, as if he disliked to be thus
+praised in public. Then he made an effort to reply.
+
+"Sire!" he said, "it was with great repugnance that I fulfilled such a
+painful duty"--he hesitated, and then was silent.
+
+Tarraxas gave a slight start, whilst D'Ossuna struck sharply the pommel
+of his sword with his iron glove.
+
+"Before Dona Estella shall belong to this man," thought D'Ossuna, "I
+will have vengeance or perish in the attempt. Tomorrow shall be the day
+of my revenge."
+
+The King continued:--
+
+"Your zeal, Don Ramirez, and your devotion must be rewarded. The saviour
+of our throne, and perhaps of our dynasty, merits a particular gift.
+This morning I ordered you to make out some _lettres-patentes_, which
+confer upon you the rank of Duke and Governor of Valence. Are these
+ready to be signed?"
+
+Don Ramirez grew pale with pleasure. He shook like an aspen and his eyes
+grew dim. But the King made an impatient movement, and the Count,
+drawing a roll of parchment hastily from his breast, presented it on his
+knees to the King.
+
+"My first public duty to-day shall be to sign these papers," said the
+King. "The executioner has already punished treason; it is now time for
+the King to recompense fidelity."
+
+The King unrolled the parchment and began to read. As he read, his face
+became convulsed with fury, and his eyes shot forth flames of wrath.
+
+"By my father's soul!" he shouted; "what do I behold?"
+
+
+IV.
+
+The game of chess was finished. Don Gusman had beaten Ruy Lopez, and his
+triumph was complete. He rose to his feet.
+
+"I am now, as ever, ready to obey the wishes of my King," he said to
+Calavar.
+
+The executioner understood him, and began to prepare the block. Whilst
+this was being done Don Gusman advanced towards the crucifix, and said
+in a firm voice:--
+
+"Oh, Heaven! may this unjust and rash act which is about to take place
+fall upon the head of him who is the instigator of this treachery; but
+let not my blood recoil upon the head of my King."
+
+[Illustration: "WHAT DO I BEHOLD?"]
+
+Ruy Lopez, crouching in a corner of the cell, and burying his face in
+his mantle, began to recite the prayers for the dying.
+
+Calavar approached Don Gusman, and putting his hand upon the Duke's
+shoulder began to loosen his ruff. Don Gusman shrank back from the
+contact.
+
+"Nothing that belongs to you, except this axe, shall touch a Gusman," he
+said, taking off his ruff himself and placing his head upon the block.
+"Strike!" he added, "I am ready!"
+
+The executioner raised the axe--the King's justice was at last to be
+satisfied, when shouts, rapid footsteps and confused voices arrested the
+sweep of the executioner's arm.
+
+The door gave way under the united efforts of a troop of armed men, and
+D'Ossuna, rushing into the cell, threw himself between the executioner
+and his victim. He was just in time.
+
+"He lives!" cried Tarraxas.
+
+"He is saved!" repeated D'Ossuna. "My beloved cousin, I never hoped to
+have seen you alive again. God in His mercy has not let the innocent
+perish for the guilty. God be praised!"
+
+"God be praised!" echoed all the spectators, and louder than the rest
+rang out the voice of Ruy Lopez.
+
+"You have arrived in time, my friend," said Don Gusman to his cousin;
+"but now I shall have no longer strength to die," and he sank back
+fainting on the block. The shock had been too much for him.
+
+Ruy Lopez seized the Duke in his arms, and, followed by all the nobles,
+bore him along the passages to the King's apartment. When Don Gusman
+opened his eyes he found himself in the midst of a circle of his
+friends, amongst which stood the King, looking down upon him with an
+expression of joy.
+
+Don Gusman could hardly believe his senses. From the axe and the block
+he had passed to the King's apartment. He did not understand why this
+change had taken place. He did not know that Don Ramirez, in giving his
+_lettres-patentes_ to the King to sign, had, in his agitation, given him
+instead a paper containing a plot in which he schemed to get rid for
+ever of Don Gusman, a detested rival, and one of the firmest supporters
+of the throne. He was ignorant of all that had passed, and did not know
+how he had escaped from the clutches of the executioner. It was some
+time before everything could be made clear to him.
+
+Three days afterwards, at the same hour as Gusman's miraculous delivery,
+Calavar beheaded Don Ramirez, Count of Biscay, traitor and false
+witness. Don Gusman was overwhelmed with congratulations on all sides.
+King Philip grasped him cordially by his hand.
+
+"Gusman," he said, "I have been very unjust. I can never forgive my
+folly."
+
+"Sire," replied the Duke, "let us speak of it no more. Such words spoken
+by my King are worth a thousand lives."
+
+But the King continued.
+
+"I desire," he said, "that henceforth, in commemoration of your almost
+miraculous deliverance, you carry upon your escutcheon a silver axe
+emblazoned on an azure chess-board. This month we shall celebrate your
+marriage with Dona Estella. The marriage shall take place in our
+Escurial Palace."
+
+Then he added, turning to Ruy Lopez:--
+
+"I believe that the Church will possess a good servant in its new
+Bishop. You shall be consecrated Lord Prelate, with a scarlet robe,
+enriched with diamonds; that will be the recompense of your game of
+chess with Don Gusman."
+
+"Sire," replied Don Lopez, "never before this day have I been satisfied
+to be checkmated."
+
+The King smiled, and the courtiers followed his example.
+
+"Now, my lords," continued Philip, "we invite you all to our Royal
+banquet. Let Don Gusman's seat be placed upon our right, and the Bishop
+of Segovia's on our left. Give me your arm, Don Gusman."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Illustrated Interviews
+
+XXL--MR. AND MRS. KENDAL.
+
+
+If one had waited for a few months, "The Kendals" would have been
+getting settled in their new home in Portland Place. But, then, the
+happiest associations are always centred around the old, and the
+pleasantest and frequently the dearest recollections are gathered about
+the familiar. That is why I went to them once more to their home of many
+years at 145, Harley Street.
+
+It would be difficult to realize a woman of more striking
+characteristics than she who was for so many years known as "Madge"
+Robertson, and notwithstanding a very important visit one morning in
+August twenty-three years ago to St. Saviour's, Plymouth Grove,
+Manchester, when she became the wife of Mr. William Hunter Grimston,
+there are many who still know and speak of her by her happily-remembered
+maiden name. From that day husband and wife have never played
+apart--they have remained sweethearts on the stage and lovers in their
+own home. At night--the footlights; by day--home and children. Mrs.
+Kendal assured me that neither her eldest daughter, Margaret, nor Ethel,
+nor Dorothy--the youngest--nor "Dorrie," who is now at Cambridge, nor
+Harold, a "Marlborough" boy, would ever go on the stage. Home, husband,
+and children--home, wife, and children, are the embodiment of the life
+led by the Kendals.
+
+[Illustration: THE DRAWING-ROOM
+
+_From a Photo by Elliott & Fry_.]
+
+Together with Mr. Kendal we sat down in the drawing-room, and were
+joined for a moment by Miss Grimston, a quiet, unaffected young girl,
+who looked as though she could never rid herself of a smile, either in
+her eyes or about her mouth--a young maiden who suggested "sunshine."
+She was carrying Victoria, a pet dog. The mother's whole thoughts seemed
+to go out to her daughter.
+
+"Our Jubilee dog," she cried. "I bought her on Jubilee Day, and,
+curiously enough, Mr. Kendal bought one too, neither of us telling the
+other we were going to make such canine purchases."
+
+Then, when Miss Grimston had left the room, her mother turned to me
+quietly, and said:--
+
+"The image of my brother Tom. The same hair, the same expression of
+eyes, the same kind and loving ways. I think he lives in my girl. Come
+with me and you shall see his portrait."
+
+It hung in Miss Grimston's boudoir--an apartment the walls of which were
+decorated with pictures of the Comédie-Française Company, the original
+designs for the dresses in "A Wife's Secret"; while over the
+mantel-board are Mr. and Mrs. Kendal in "The Ironmaster," and many
+family portraits are about.
+
+[Illustration: MISS GRIMSTON'S BOUDOIR.
+
+_From a Photo by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+"It is so amusing to hear people talk and write about my eldest brother
+Tom and me playing together as children," she said. "My mother was
+married when she was eighteen, and my brother was born when she was
+nineteen; I was born when she was forty-eight, and was her twenty-second
+child! So my brother was a grown man with a moustache when I knew him. I
+was brought up with his two children--little Tom and Maude, my own
+nephew and niece."
+
+What a delightful story it was! Little Madge Robertson used to dress up
+as a policeman and take Maude into custody before Tom, the younger, as
+the judge. And this was the trial:--
+
+"What is the prisoner charged with, constable?" asked the judge.
+
+"Murder, my lord," replied the representative of law and order.
+
+"Prisoner, are you guilty?"
+
+"Yes, my lord," answered the poor prisoner.
+
+"Prisoner, have you anything to say why sentence should not be passed
+upon you according to law?"
+
+"Yes, my lord. _I'm the daughter of the author of 'Caste'._"
+
+The prisoner always got off, and dear old William Robertson would watch
+this little scene and roar with laughter.
+
+"Yes," Mrs. Kendal said quietly, as we again looked at "Tom's" picture,
+"my brother was kindness itself, even from his infancy. I remember
+hearing how, when he was a very small boy and living with his aunt, he
+went out one summer's day with a new velvet jacket on. He caught sight
+of a poor little beggar child his own size, who was in tatters, and,
+beckoning him across, at once divested himself of his new coat, put it
+on the wondering youngster, and ran away home as fast as he could. His
+aunt questioned him, and upon finding out the true circumstances of the
+case, and not wishing to damp the kind spirit in the little fellow's
+heart, said:--
+
+"'Well, we'll go and try to find the boy you gave it to, and buy your
+jacket back.'
+
+"Fortunately the search was successful, and the coat was bought back for
+no less a sum than half-a-sovereign.
+
+"And in later years it was just the same with Tom. He could never pass
+by a common cookshop, in front of the windows of which was often a crowd
+of men, women, and children, looking on with longing eyes, without
+getting them inside and giving them a fill to their hearts' content.
+When out driving it was no different. He would stop the horse, and have
+all the watching hungry ones inside, and the next moment they would be
+revelling in the satisfying properties of thick slices of plum-pudding
+and roast beef."
+
+The house throughout is most artistic. Mr. Kendal is a painter of great
+merit, and he "knows" a picture as soon as he sees it. Pictures are his
+hobby; hence there is not a room in the house--even to the
+kitchen--which does not find a place for some canvas, etching, or
+engraving. The entrance-hall is at once striking, with its quaint
+thirteenth century furniture, bronzes, and Venetian ware. There are some
+fine engravings of Miss Brunton--who became Countess of Craven--Kemble,
+Garrick, Phelps, and Mrs. Siddons. A picture of Mrs. Kendal in "The
+Falcon" was done at the express wish of, and paid for by, the late Poet
+Laureate. Tennyson said it reminded him of a woman he liked and admired.
+In the shadow is a fine bust of Macready, given by the great actor to
+the father of Mrs. Kendal; resting against the fireplace on either side
+are the two lances used in "The Queen's Shilling," and close by are two
+huge masks representing a couple of very hirsute individuals. They came
+from California, and represent "The King of the Devils" and "The King of
+the Winds."
+
+[Illustration: THE HALL. (_From a Photo, by Elliott & Fry._)]
+
+[Illustration: THE DINING ROOM. (_From a Photo, by Elliott & Fry._)]
+
+The entrance to the dining-room is typical of all the other door
+decoration in the house--a carving of cream enamel of beautiful design
+and workmanship. The walls of this apartment are terra-cotta, with a
+finely carved oak-panelling. It is a little treasure room of canvases,
+the gem of which is probably C. Van Hannen's "Mask Shop in Venice"--a
+painter of a school which Luke Fildes, R.A., has done so much to
+popularize. Macbeth is represented by a couple of delightful efforts,
+and there are samples of the skill of Eugene Du Blas, Crofts, John Reid,
+Andriotti, Sadler, De Haas, Rivers; a grand landscape by Webb--nearly
+all of which are Academy works. The decorative articles are as artistic
+as in some cases they are peculiar. Running about above the oaken
+fireplace, amongst choice bronzes and blue ware, and a black boy who is
+trudging along with a very useful clock on his back, are many quaint
+animals of polished brass--even mice are not missing, with wonderfully
+long tails--that sparkle and glisten in the firelight. Ascending the
+staircase you find etchings after Alma Tadema, Briton Riviere, and
+others; the walls are covered with them.
+
+[Illustration: SCENE FROM "THE SQUIRE." _From the Picture by Mr.
+Kendal._]
+
+Here are a series of delightful pictures showing Mr. and Mrs. Kendal in
+Gilbert's "Sweethearts," and I am reminded that the gifted actor and
+actress were the first to appear before the Queen after a period of
+five-and-twenty years, during which Her Majesty had never seen a play,
+the performance that night consisting of "Sweethearts" and Theyre
+Smith's "Uncle's Will." And as one takes note of many rare works--the
+bedroom is almost entirely given up to Doré's marvellous creations,
+though near the window is a splendid specimen of the photographer's art:
+a head of Miss Mary Anderson--one cannot fail to observe the family
+spirit everywhere--sometimes portraits of children, sometimes small and
+dainty pencil studies made of them by their father. Occasionally
+theatrical sketches by Mr. Kendal appear. Here are some of the principal
+members of the old St. James's Company, who used to give Mr. Kendal
+sittings between the acts--here a capital bit of artistic work depicting
+a scene from "The Squire," made from stray memorandums and with the aid
+of a looking-glass for securing the actor-artist's face.
+
+Leaving Mr. Kendal for a time, Mrs. Kendal and I returned to the
+drawing-room. It overlooks Harley Street and is a handsome two-roomed
+apartment, the prevailing tone of blue, cream, and gold harmonizing to
+perfection. It is positively one huge collection of curios.
+
+The screen at the far end is rather shuddery, not to say creepy, to
+those of nervous temperament. It is decorated with tomahawks of fearful
+and wonderful shapes and sizes, and other Indian implements of warfare.
+
+"These came from California," Mrs. Kendal explained. "No sooner are you
+out of the train than the Indians tomahawk you! Look at this bow and
+arrow."
+
+The pots of palms and ferns all hold American flags. These colours--the
+stars and stripes--once surmounted baskets of flowers and floral
+emblems--five, six, and even seven feet high--handed to Mrs. Kendal
+during her recent tour in the States; and amongst the sweetly-perfumed
+blossoms diamonds, pearls, and other precious gems have glistened in the
+shape of ornaments. A table near the window tells you of the generosity
+of the Americans. It is crowded with silver ornaments and mementos. You
+may handle the diminutive silver candlesticks to light "The Kendals"
+away--silver jugs, souvenir spoons, frying-pans, coffee-pots--all in
+miniature. This silver dollar is only one of a hundred. You touch a
+spring, when, lo and behold! the portrait of the donor appears. All
+American women have dainty feet. These little ebony and silver lasts for
+your boots remind you of this. On this table is a letter from the
+Princess of Wales, thanking Mrs. Kendal for "the lovely silver wedding
+bells and flowers which you so kindly sent me on the tenth." You may
+examine George IV.'s cigar-case--a silver tube in which the King was
+wont to carry a single cigar. It is impossible to number all the
+treasured odds and ends, but still more difficult to total up the
+miniature articles set out in a pair of cabinets.
+
+[Illustration: NAPOLEON'S WRITING-TABLE _From a Photo by Elliott &
+Fry._]
+
+[Illustration: "SHAKESPEARE AND BACON" _From the Picture by A. E.
+Emslie._]
+
+Mrs. Kendal has a hobby--it lies in the collecting of the tiniest of
+tiny things. If her intimate friends come across any curiosity
+particularly choice and small, it is at once snapped up and dispatched
+to Harley Street. I had some little leaden mice in my hand the size of
+half-a-dozen pins' heads. Handkerchiefs an inch square, babies' woollen
+shoes, pinafores, shirts, all of the tiniest, but perfectly made, with
+buttons and button-holes complete, and even buns with currants no bigger
+than a pin's point. Sheep, dogs, cats, monkeys, pigs, giraffes--in
+short, convert the entire Zoo into miniature china knick-knacks, and you
+have a considerable portion of Mrs. Kendal's collection realized. One
+must needs stand for a moment at Napoleon's writing-table, near which
+rests a characteristic clay by Van Beers. The pictures here are many.
+Millais' work is well represented by several etchings, and a remarkably
+clever thing by Emslie, entitled "Shakespeare and Bacon," suggests the
+two extremes of taste to a nicety. Whilst a young enthusiast is
+declaiming Shakespeare, one of his listeners--doubtless, equally
+enthusiastic, but with an eye for victuals--is interrupting a soliloquy
+with the remark: "Now! who says bacon?" Every portrait has a
+history--Prince and Princess Henry of Battenberg in their wedding
+garments, the late Duke of Albany, Professor Huxley, Mrs. Beecher
+Stowe, Mr. and Mrs. Pinero, Mr. and Mrs. Bancroft, and many others.
+Three suggestive pictures, however, cannot be passed by. This dear
+little fellow is the son of Mr. B. J. Farjeon. Mr. Farjeon married "Rip
+Van Winkle" Jefferson's daughter, and the youngster is pictured dressed
+in the tattered garments of merry, rollicking _Rip_. You know how _Rip_
+always drinks your health? He holds the glass of hollands high up and
+cries, "Here's your health and your family's good health, and may they
+all live long and prosper!" but Mr. Farjeon's little boy cries out,
+"Here's your health, and your family's good health, and may you all live
+long and _proper_!"
+
+[Illustration: GROUP IN CLAY BY JAN VAN BEERS.]
+
+[Illustration: MRS. KENDAL AS "GALATEA"]
+
+A photo, of Dr. Pancoast stands near a bust of Mrs. Kendal as _Galatea_,
+done when she was seventeen. Dr. Pancoast--a celebrated American
+physician--saved Mrs. Kendal's life when her maid accidentally
+administered a poisonous drug to her mistress. The poor girl herself
+nearly died of fright.
+
+But perhaps the portrait of the late Duchess of Cambridge, which Mrs.
+Kendal now holds in her hand, is more interesting than them all. "Her
+late Royal Highness," Mrs. Kendal said, "always addressed me and wrote
+to me as Mrs. Grimston. She was paralyzed in her right hand and wrote
+with her left; perhaps that is why this letter, written in pencil and
+with great effort, is treasured more than it otherwise would have been."
+
+It was one of the last letters written by Her Royal Highness. The
+letters and words were wonderfully legible; it read:--
+
+     "DEAR MRS. GRIMSTON,--One line only to thank you for sending me
+     the stalls for my dressers, who enjoyed your and Mr. Grimston's
+     charming acting immensely. My first deaf one was able to follow
+     perfectly, thanks to your having kindly let her have the book
+     previously. Again thanking you,
+
+    "I remain,
+
+        "Yours very sincerely,
+            AUGUSTA."
+
+
+
+And in a little cabinet in the far corner is a beautiful Sèvres bowl. In
+the bowl is a telegram from "Princess Mary," asking Mrs. Kendal to come
+to St. James's Palace at once. Written on a black-edged envelope were
+these words: "To dearest Mrs. Grimston Kendal. A little souvenir. Found
+amongst the last wishes of her late Royal Highness the Duchess of
+Cambridge."
+
+It is only just possible to hasten through the collection of substantial
+reminiscences which add to the charm of this corner of the house. The
+quaint white china hare was given to Mrs. Kendal many years ago by Mr.
+John Hare, when playing together at the Court. A curious but vividly
+suggestive idea of Japanese wit, in the shape of a couple of
+characteristically dressed figures, typifies "Health" and "Wealth"; the
+figure, representing "Health" has a countenance of the deepest red, the
+other a face all golden and as resplendent as the sun. In a small frame
+is the letter from the Goethe Club of New York, making Mrs. Kendal an
+honorary member. She is the only woman member of this club. And this
+pretty little doll dressed as a Quakeress--a charming compliment to the
+recipient--was presented by the Quakeresses of Philadelphia, who never,
+never, never go the play, yea, verily! So they sent this as a tribute of
+their admiration for the talents and character of the woman who has been
+called "The Matron of the Drama."
+
+[Illustration: MRS. KENDALL'S LITTLE QUAKERESS.]
+
+We sat down on a settee in front of the fire. The cushions were of white
+lawn marked with the initial "M.," and were worked by the late Lady
+Eglinton.
+
+Mrs. Kendal's happy and homely face is familiar to all. She has a truly
+tender and sympathetic expression there at all times. Her hair was once
+that of the fair one with golden locks, now it is of a rich brown
+colour--very neatly and naturally trimmed about her head. She is very
+kind--very motherly; just the woman you would single out in time of
+trouble and ask, "What would you advise me to do?" I gathered these
+impressions whilst listening to many things she said of which I need not
+write. Her views on theatrical life are strong, nay, severe. She is not
+afraid to speak, and she hits hard and sends her shots home. But you
+cannot mistake the earnestness of her manner, the true intent of her
+motives.
+
+"I am only a common-place woman," she said to me. "I used to be ever so
+light-hearted--now, I'm a morbid creature. Here we are sitting down by
+the fireside. I may tell you happy reminiscences that may make one
+merry, and all the time I should be thinking about--what? Cancer! I
+return to my dressing-room from the stage at night. As I am passing
+along a fellow player may turn to me and say, 'How well the play has
+gone to-night!' I am only thinking of those who have trod that same
+stage before me. What are they now? Dust--earth--worms!"
+
+I stirred the fire, and the bright glow from its burning embers lit up
+the corner where we sat. And we talked together.
+
+Margaret Brunton Robertson was born at Great Grimsby on March 15th,
+1849--curiously enough these lines will be read on the anniversary of
+her birthday. Her grandfather, father, and uncle were all actors.
+
+"I lived alone with my father and mother," she said, "and the only real
+recollection I have of my father is his fine white beard, which he grew
+towards the latter days of his life, and a little advice he once gave
+me.
+
+"'Always count twenty,' he said, 'when you are walking across the quay
+at Bristol, then you won't hear the sailors swear!' Yet he would use
+very bad language to me when he was teaching me my parts; for you know I
+commenced acting at a very early age. I was only three when I made my
+first appearance--and I ruined the play. It was at the Marylebone
+Theatre in the 'Three Poor Travellers,' and I was a blind child. My
+nurse was in the front row of the pit--that is, in the very first row,
+for there were no stalls. All I thought about was my new shoes--a very
+pretty, dainty little pair, and as soon as I stepped on the stage, I
+opened my eyes, caught sight of the delighted face of my nurse, and
+cried out:--
+
+"'Oh! nursey, dear, look at my new shoes!'
+
+"I played at Chute's Theatre in Bristol in many child's parts. When my
+father went to the wall over the Lincoln Circuit, Mr. Chute engaged him
+as an actor, and I went with him. I remember in 'A Midsummer Night's
+Dream'--I was _Mustard Seed_, I think, or _Peas Blossom_; at any rate,
+some small character that required very prettily dressing, and plenty of
+flowers on my little costume. I am as fond of flowers to-day as I was
+then. Well, when once I got on the stage in my pretty dress--of which I
+was particularly proud--before I would leave it, I had to be bought off
+with apples and oranges! There they would stand at the wings, and the
+price would go up--up--up--two oranges, three oranges, three oranges
+and two apples--until I inwardly murmured a childish equivalent for
+'sold,' and toddled off.
+
+"I acted _Eva_ in 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' when I was eight. I think I was
+always a sad child--I looked forty when I was fifteen. After little
+_Eva_ I used to play anything."
+
+And they were hard times for little Madge--she worked like the brave
+little woman she was. Her childish thoughts were constantly with her
+parents--how best could she add to the weekly income. And this is what
+the same little Madge would do. Night after night, after playing in a
+serious piece, she would appear in burlesque, sing, dance, and crack her
+small jokes with the best of them. It was hard work that made her a
+woman--it was dearly-bought experience that gave birth to the
+sympathetic heart she has to-day.
+
+[Illustration: MRS. KENDAL. _From a Photo. by Bassano._]
+
+So at fourteen she was a woman grown--and at fifteen at Hull played
+_Lady Macbeth_ to Phelps's _Macbeth_!
+
+"I was dressed in my mother's clothes," Mrs. Kendal said, "and I fear I
+must have looked a fearful guy!"
+
+At rehearsal Phelps looked upon the young woman.
+
+"And who--who is this child?" asked the great actor.
+
+"Madge Robertson," the manager answered; "a rare favourite here. It was
+a choice between her and a very old woman, Mr. Phelps."
+
+"Then let the young woman play, by all means," Phelps said.
+
+What a night it was! At the end of the play they wanted her on again,
+but Phelps was obdurate. A party of men came round, and threatened to
+throw Phelps into the Humber! Phelps remained firm.
+
+"He was kindness itself through it all," Mrs. Kendal assured me, "and
+though I did not go on again, he proved his thoughtfulness a little
+later on by sending for me to play _Lady Teazle_. I played the leading
+parts during the three nights Phelps remained in Hull in 'The Man of the
+World,' 'Richelieu,' and 'Macbeth.' On July 29th, 1865, I made my
+_début_ in London, at the Haymarket, as _Ophelia_ to the _Hamlet_ of
+Walter Montgomery. Poor Montgomery! He was what you would call a
+'lady-killer'--very conceited, but, withal, very kind. He once wrote a
+letter to my father, and added a postscript, saying: 'Keep this letter.
+Should poverty fall upon you or yours, your great-grand-children may be
+able to sell it for a good sum of money!' I was only with him six
+weeks."
+
+The only play of her brother's in which Mrs. Kendal has appeared was
+"Dreams," when the Gaiety first opened. At this time the managers always
+tried to induce Mrs. Kendal to appear in a riding habit--a costume in
+which she looked strikingly handsome.
+
+"Alfred Wigan played in 'Dreams,'" continued Mrs. Kendal. "His wife was
+one of the kindest women I ever met. She gave me a gold bracelet for a
+very curious little service I used to render her husband every night. He
+had to sing a song in 'Dreams,' and one or two of the high notes were
+beyond his reach. I used to take these notes for him, and the audience
+never guessed the truth."
+
+"And have you not played _Desdemona_?" I asked.
+
+"Oh! yes--and to a real black man, and so he did not have to put his
+head up the chimney to make himself up for the part! His name was Ira
+Aldridge, and scandal said he was the dresser of some great actor whom
+he used to imitate. But he had very ingenious ideas as to the character
+of _Othello_. He thought him a brute, and played him as such. His great
+notion was to get the fairest woman possible for _Desdemona_--and I was
+selected, for at that time my hair was quite golden.
+
+"In one part of the play he would cry out, 'Give me thy hand,
+Desdemona!' and certainly the effect of my hand in his huge grasp was
+impressive. Then in the last act he would pull me from the couch by the
+hair of my head. Oh! there was something in his realism, I can tell
+you!"
+
+Miss Robertson made a great sensation when she appeared as _Blanche
+Dumont_, in Dr. Westland Marston's "Hero of Romance," when it was
+performed for the first time at the Haymarket Theatre, on March 14th,
+1868. Seventeen months after this, on August 7th, 1869, she was Madge
+Robertson no longer. On that day she was married to Mr. William Hunter
+Grimston, whose stage name is Kendal. It is a charming little story.
+
+It occurred at Manchester. Mr. Kendal and Miss Robertson were on tour
+with the elder Compton, and they were--sweethearts. A convenient time
+seemed to have arrived for their wedding day, for on the Thursday,
+Friday, and Saturday nights pieces were to be played in which neither of
+them would be required. This would mean a nice little honeymoon--and the
+two lovers would reappear on the Monday night. So the day was
+fixed--Thursday; the church chosen--St. Saviour's, Plymouth Grove; and
+the best man booked--Walter Gowing, who used to play under the name of
+Walter Gordon.
+
+Then bad news came. Compton's brother was taken ill, and he had to hurry
+away from Cottonopolis. Another play had to be put in the bill, both Mr.
+Kendal and Miss Robertson would be needed--for it was "As You Like It,"
+and the one would be wanted for _Orlando_ and the other for _Rosalind_.
+Still, the wedding was proceeded with on Thursday morning, quietly and
+happily, and in the evening husband and wife met on the stage in the
+Forest of Arden. There, with _Celia_ as the priest, amidst the leafy
+trees and grassy pathways, _Orlando_ turns to the merry _Celia_, and
+pointing to the far, far happier _Rosalind_, cries out:--
+
+"Pray thee, marry us!"
+
+"Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rosalind?"
+
+"I will."
+
+"Then," _Rosalind_ pertly remarks, "you must say, 'I take thee,
+Rosalind, for wife.'"
+
+"I take thee, Rosalind, for wife," said _Orlando_, earnestly.
+
+Then _Rosalind_ asked, "Now tell me how long you would have her after
+you have possessed her?"
+
+And _Orlando_ replied--both in the words of Shakespeare and in the
+language of his own heart--"For ever and a day!"
+
+That is the true story of the wedding of Mr. and Mrs. Kendal. It was a
+natural desire of each never to play apart from the other, and from that
+day they have never separated. For some seven years Mr. and Mrs. Kendal
+played at the Haymarket, under Buckstone's management, and the gifted
+actress merrily referred to the little jokes played on "Bucky" by some
+of the actors. He was stone deaf, and could only take his cues when to
+speak from the movements of his fellow-actors' lips, so they would annoy
+him by continuing the lip movement, and "Bucky" sometimes got "stuck."
+
+[Illustration: THE DRAWING-ROOM. _From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+Little need be said of Mrs. Kendal's subsequent work--her acting at the
+Court, the Prince of Wales's, and her labours at the St. James's, when,
+in 1881, she appeared there under the joint management of Mr. Kendal and
+Mr. Hare. Not only in this country has her name become fondly familiar
+in the homes of those who "go to the theatre" and those who "never
+would," but in America the artistic acting of herself and husband has
+been instantly and enthusiastically recognised.
+
+I left the drawing-room--pausing, before entering Mr. Kendal's study, to
+admire the aviary--a veritable home of song--and to notice one
+diminutive member of the feathered tribe in particular, who has been
+taught by Miss Grimston to perform tricks _ad lib._, in addition to
+giving forth the sweetest of notes.
+
+The study is a very delicate apartment in terra-cotta and gold--here and
+there are quaint blue china vases and many exquisite bronzes. The window
+in the recess where the table is--a typical study table, suggesting
+plenty of work--is of stained glass, the quartet of divisions
+representing the four seasons. A glance round the walls of this room at
+once reveals the substantial side of Mr. Kendal's artistic
+hobby--pictures. In this apartment there is nothing but water-colours,
+save a very clever pen-and-ink sketch by a New York artist, called "Six
+Months After Marriage," which Jefferson caught sight of at the New York
+Dramatic Bazaar, and reminded Mr. Kendal to "keep his eye on," and a
+portrait or two of Mrs. Kendal and the children. "Hetty Sorrell" at her
+butter pats, with her thoughts very far from the churning-pan, is a gem.
+"The Last of St. Bartholomew" is a magnificent bit of painting, and the
+Venetian views at once carry one back to the home of the merry gondolier
+and perfect moonlight nights. This picture of Salvini--who its possessor
+assured me was the finest tragedian he had ever seen--was painted by Mr.
+Kendal himself. The bookcase, running along opposite the window,
+contains many rare first editions, of which Mr. Kendal is a very
+persevering and successful collector, and a bound manuscript copy of
+every play produced by him, together with the original sketches for the
+scenery. You may look over the "Scrap of Paper," "The Falcon," "Queen's
+Shilling," "Ladies' Battle," "Clancarty," "The Ironmaster," "The Money
+Spinner," and "The Squire"--Pinero's play, of which somebody wrote that
+it wafted the scent of the new-mown hay across the footlights.
+
+[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF SALVANI, BY MR. KENDAL.]
+
+It is interesting to learn how Mr. Kendal first came across Pinero.
+
+"I only knew him as an actor at the Lyceum," he said, "and had never met
+him. He wrote and asked if we would let him read a play to us. As a rule
+we never do that; but, remembering that Pinero was himself a player, we
+made an exception. So it came about that one day, after a rehearsal, the
+actor playwright read his piece to us in the _foyer_ of the St. James's.
+We never expected anything at first, but the reading ended in our taking
+the play immediately, though we scarcely knew what we should do with it,
+seeing it was a two-act play. We found an opportunity, however, and you
+know the success it was. It was called 'The Money Spinner.'"
+
+Mr. Kendal is a striking-looking man--the very ideal of a picturesque
+soldier, with a constitution of steel. He talks to you frankly, easily,
+for there is not two penny-worth of presumption about him. He lives and
+labours very quietly--he enjoys his days, and a good cigar. He divides
+his talents between the stage and the brush. His pencil and palette have
+been with him in far-off places, and there is always a corner in his
+bag for them if he only travels twenty miles from Harley Street. His
+peculiarity of painting--so to speak--lies in the fact that he never
+fails to chronicle the view obtained from any hotel where he may be
+staying. He showed me a book full of these hasty impressions--all of
+which were most beautifully done--many of them he could only give ten
+minutes or a quarter of an hour to. Two of these I brought away for
+reproduction in these pages; they are both unfinished, however--the
+pencil reminders of certain little additions tell that.
+
+[Illustration: SKETCH FROM THE QUEEN's HOTEL, MANCHESTER, BY MR.
+KENDAL.]
+
+The first of these is a view of the Infirmary as seen from Mr. Kendal's
+window at the Queen's Hotel, Manchester; the second--done in a quarter
+of an hour--shows the way the Americans erect their buildings for
+exhibiting a cyclorama--popularly known here as a panorama. It was done
+from a back window in an hotel in Cleveland, U.S.A. The actor-artist
+never learnt drawing, save for a few hours' lessons he took at the Slade
+Schools under the tuition of Le Gros. He draws everything that impresses
+him--his painting memory is remarkable. He sees a man's face in the
+street, carries it home in his mind, and it will be very faithfully put
+on paper or canvas.
+
+We talked for a long time on "pictures"--he was so happy and earnest
+about it that it was some time before we made an attempt to tread the
+boards and get behind the footlights.
+
+Mr. Kendal--William Hunter Grimston--was born at Notting Hill, and just
+outside the sound of Bow Bells, on December 16th, 1843. His parents
+belonged to the Low Church, and their views of the theatre in general,
+and on adopting the stage as a profession in particular, will be readily
+understood. Mr. Kendal was intended for the Army--how he came to "go on"
+the stage is best told in his own words:
+
+"I had only been to three or four pantomimes previously," he said, "and
+one night--I was about eighteen years of age at the time--I found myself
+in the stalls of the old Soho Theatre, in Dean Street, Soho, now known
+as the Royalty Theatre. My paper and pencil were out, and I was busily
+engaged in making sketches of the various actors and actresses. The
+piece was 'Billie Taylor.' Suddenly I felt a gentle tap on the shoulder
+from behind. I turned round.
+
+"'Would you allow me to take those sketches round and show the 'parties'
+interested?' a gentleman asked.
+
+"'Certainly; with pleasure,' I replied.
+
+"'Perhaps you would like to come behind the scenes as well?'
+
+"It was just what I wanted, so I followed the person who had so kindly
+interested himself in my scribble. He proved to be Mr. Mowbray, the
+manager of the theatre. The picture behind the scenes that night was a
+perfect Elysium to me. I think Mowbray must have noticed the impression
+it made upon me, for he asked if I would like to go on the stage. I
+did--as a sort of super."
+
+[Illustration: SKETCH FROM HOTEL WINDOW, CLEVELAND, U.S.A., BY MR.
+KENDAL.]
+
+Mr. Kendal's first important engagement lasted four or five years at the
+Theatre Royal, Glasgow. Here he met and played with such people as Helen
+Faucit (Lady Martin), G. V. Brooke, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Kean, Dion
+Boucicault, Fechter, Miss Bateman (Mrs. Crowe), and the elder Sothern.
+When Sothern left, the accomplished young actor played _Dundreary_, and
+found himself straying in the footsteps of the famous originator of the
+part, even to the hop. One would have thought that people would have
+praised the actor for taking such a worthy example--but it displeased
+Tom Taylor, and he wrote very wrathfully. Then Mr. Kendal went to the
+Haymarket, met Miss Robertson, and from their wedding day their lives
+may be said to have been the same in thought, word, and deed.
+
+As an organizer and man of business his tact and judgment were tested
+and proved during his joint management of the St. James's with Mr. Hare
+in 1881. For some time previous to this Mr. Kendal had been on the
+look-out for a theatre, and his mind wandered towards the St. James's,
+but it required a large sum of money spending on it before it could be
+opened.
+
+"One night I was talking to Lord Newry at my club," said Mr. Kendal,
+"and happened to say that if £2,000 or so were spent on the St. James's
+I might feel inclined to take it.
+
+"'Suppose I spend that amount of money on the place, will you take it?'
+Lord Newry asked.
+
+"My only reply was that I would think about it. In the meantime I went
+to the Court, from there to the Prince of Wales's to play in
+'Diplomacy'--it ran a year--'Peril' and 'London Assurance.' Then I
+returned to the Court again, and during this time Lord Newry had
+practically gutted the old and unlucky St. James's, turned it inside
+out--John Hare, my wife and self entered, and we remained there nearly
+ten years."
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Kendal share the same opinion of America--it is the land of
+to-day, the land of the future. As to its theatres in comparison with
+ours, Mrs. Kendal--who had now joined us--was most enthusiastic. I had
+reached the pillars, from which hung curtains of intricate Japanese
+workmanship, leading to the hall. Victoria, the Jubilee dog, was barking
+a friendly "Good-bye," and the lusty throats of Miss Grimston's
+two-and-twenty canaries forced their sweet notes from a far-away room
+into the passage.
+
+"I will give you some idea of what an American theatre is like," said
+Mrs. Kendal. "You reach your destination by rail at some small place for
+a one-night stay. If it is raining and the ground is wet, men in long
+jack-boots catch hold of you and gallantly take you across the puddles.
+You do not see a soul about--and you are in fear and trembling as to
+where your night's audience is coming from. You get to your hotel, and
+then your next thought is--where is the theatre? You expect to find a
+little, uncomfortable, band-box of a place, and you set out to see it
+with a heavy heart. It is a palace--a marble palace--a positive poem!
+And your heart leaps happily--only to drop dull again, for you suddenly
+remember that you have seen--nobody, not even the oldest inhabitant. You
+turn to the manager.
+
+"'Yes, yes--but, what about an audience, how are you going to fill it?'
+you ask.
+
+"'Wall,' he replies, 'I don't trouble myself much about that. I reckon
+that every seat in this theatre is sold for to-night, that's all!'"
+
+    HARRY HOW.
+
+[Illustration: MR. KENDAL. _From a Photo. by Maurice Stephens,
+Harrogat._]
+
+
+
+
+"_Author! Author_!"
+
+BY E. W. HORNUNG.
+
+
+This story has to do with two men and a play, instead of a woman, and it
+is none of mine. I had it from an old gentleman I love: only he ought to
+have written it himself. This, however, he will never do; having known
+intimately in his young days one of the two men concerned. But I have
+his leave to repeat the story more or less as he told it--if I can. And
+I am going to him for my rebuke--when I dare.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"You want to hear the story of poor old Pharazyn and his play? I'm now
+going to tell it you.
+
+"Ah, well! My recollection of the matter dates from one summer's night
+at my old rooms in the Adelphi, when he spoilt my night's work by coming
+in flushed with an idea of his own. I remember banging the drawer into
+which I threw my papers to lock them away for the night; but in a few
+minutes I had forgotten my unfinished article, and was glad that
+Pharazyn had come. We were young writers, both of us; and, let me tell
+you, my good fellow, young writing wasn't in those days what it is now.
+I am thinking less of merit than of high prices, and less of high prices
+than of cheap notoriety. Neither of us had ever had our names before the
+public--not even in the advertised contents of an unread and unreadable
+magazine. No one cared about names in my day, save for the half-dozen
+great ones that were then among us; so Pharazyn's and mine never used to
+appear in the newspapers, though some of them used our stuff.
+
+"In a manner we were rivals, for we were writing the same sort of thing
+for the same sort of publications, and that was how we had come
+together; but never was rivalry friendlier, or mutually more helpful.
+Our parts were strangely complementary; if I could understand for the
+life of me the secret of collaboration, which has always been a mystery
+to me, I should say that I might have collaborated with Pharazyn almost
+ideally. I had the better of him in point of education, and would have
+turned single sentences against him for all he was worth; and I don't
+mind saying so, for there my superiority ended. When he had a story to
+tell, he told it with a swing and impetus which I coveted him, as well I
+might to this day; and if he was oftener without anything to write
+about, his ideas would pay twenty shillings in the pound, in strength
+and originality, where mine made some contemptible composition in pence.
+That is why I have been a failure at fiction--oh, yes, I have! That is
+why Pharazyn would have succeeded, if only he had stuck to plain
+ordinary narrative prose.
+
+[Illustration: "HE SKETCHED THE NEW STORY."]
+
+"The idea he was unable to keep within his own breast, on the evening of
+which I am telling you, was as new, and simple, and dramatic as any that
+ever intoxicated the soul of story-teller or made a brother author green
+with envy. I can see him now, as I watched him that night, flinging to
+and fro with his quick, nervous stride, while he sketched the new
+story--bit by bit, and often the wrong bit foremost; but all with his
+own flashing vividness, which makes me so sorry--so sorry whenever I
+think of it. At moments he would stand still before the chair on which I
+sat intent, and beat one hand upon the other, and look down at me with a
+grand, wondering smile, as though he himself could hardly believe what
+the gods had put into his head, or that the gift was real gold, it
+glittered so at first sight. On that point I could reassure him. My open
+jealousy made me admire soberly. But when he told me, quite suddenly, as
+though on an afterthought, that he meant to make a play of it and not a
+story, I had the solid satisfaction at that moment of calling him a
+fool.
+
+"The ordinary author of my day, you see, had a certain timorous respect
+for the technique of the stage. It never occurred to us to make light of
+those literary conventions which it was not our business to understand.
+We were behind you fellows in every way. But Pharazyn was a sort of
+forerunner: he said that any intelligent person could write a play, if
+he wanted to, and provided he could write at all. He said his story was
+a born play; and it was, in a way; but I told him I doubted whether he
+could train it up with his own hand to be a good-acting one. I knew I
+was right. He had neither the experience nor the innate constructive
+faculty, one or other of which is absolutely necessary for the writing
+of possible plays. I implored him to turn the thing into a good dramatic
+novel, and so make his mark at one blow. But no; the fatal fit was on
+him, and I saw that it must run its course. Already he could see and
+hear his audience laughing and crying, so he said, and I daresay he
+could also feel the crinkle of crisp weekly receipts. I only know that
+we sat up all night over it, arguing and smoking and drinking whisky
+until my windows overlooking the river caught the rising sun at an
+angle. Then I gave in. For poor old Pharazyn was more obstinate than
+ever, though he thanked me with the greatest good temper for my
+well-meant advice.
+
+"'And look here, my boy,' says he, as he puts on his hat, 'you shan't
+hear another word about this till the play's written; and you are to ask
+no questions. Is that a bargain? Very well, then. When I've finished
+it--down to the very last touches--_you_ shall come and sit up all night
+with _me_, and I'll read you every word. And by gad, old chap, if they
+give me a call the first night, and want a speech--and I see you sitting
+in your stall, like a blessed old fool as you are--by gad, sir, I'll
+hold up you and your judgment to the ridicule of the house, so help me
+never!'
+
+[Illustration: "I COULD SMELL HIS PIPE THROUGH THE KEYHOLE."]
+
+"Well, I am coming to that first night presently. Meanwhile, for the
+next six months, I saw very little of Pharazyn, and less still in the
+new year. He seldom came to my rooms now; when he did I could never get
+him to stay and sit up with me; and once when I climbed up to his garret
+(it was literally that), he would not answer me, though I could smell
+his pipe through the key-hole, in which he had turned the key. Yet he
+was perfectly friendly whenever we did meet. He said he was working very
+hard, and indeed I could imagine it; his personal appearance, which he
+had never cherished, being even untidier, and I am obliged to add
+seedier, than of old. He continued to send me odd magazines in which his
+stuff happened to appear, or occasionally a proof for one's opinion and
+suggestions; we had done this to each other all along; but either I did
+not think about it, or somehow he led me to suppose that his things were
+more or less hot from the pen, whereas many of mine had been written a
+twelvemonth before one saw them in type. One way or another, I gathered
+that he was at work in our common groove, and had shelved, for the
+present at all events, his proposed play, about which you will remember
+I had undertaken to ask no questions.
+
+"I was quite mistaken. One night in the following March he came to me
+with a haggard face, a beaming eye, and a stout, clean manuscript, which
+he brought down with a thud on my desk. It was the play he had sketched
+out to me eight or nine months before. I was horrified to hear he had
+been at work upon it alone from that night to this. He had written, so
+he said, during all this time, not another line, only each line of his
+play some ten times over.
+
+"I recollect looking curiously at his shabby clothes, and then reminding
+him that it was at his place, not mine, I was to have heard him read the
+play: and how he confessed that he had no chair for me there--that his
+room was, in fact, three parts dismantled--that he had sacrificed
+everything to the play, which was worth it. I was extremely angry. I
+could have helped him so easily, independent as I was of the calling I
+loved to follow. But there was about him always an accursed, unnecessary
+independence, which has since struck me--and I think I may say so after
+all these years--as the mark of a rather humble, very honest origin.
+
+"He read me the play, and I cried over the third act, and so did he. I
+thought then, and still think, that there was genius in that third
+act--it took you off your feet. And to me, certainly, it seemed as if
+the piece must act as well as it read, though indeed, as I took care to
+say and to repeat, my opinion was well-nigh valueless on that point. I
+only knew that I could see the thing playing itself, as I walked about
+the room (for this time I was the person who was too excited to sit
+still), and that was enough to make one sanguine. I became as
+enthusiastic about it as though the work were mine (which it never,
+never would or could have been), yet I was unable to suggest a single
+improvement, or to have so much as a finger-tip in the pie. Nor could I
+afterwards account for its invariable reception at the hands of
+managers, whose ways were then unknown to me. That night we talked only
+of one kind of reception. We were still talking when the sun came
+slanting up the river to my windows; you could hardly see them for
+tobacco-smoke, and we had emptied a bottle of whisky to the success of
+Pharazyn's immortal play.
+
+[Illustration: "HIS MANUSCRIPT RAGGED BUT UNREAD."]
+
+"Oh, those nights--those nights once in a way! God forgive me, but I'd
+sacrifice many things to be young again and feel clever, and to know the
+man who would sit up all night with me to rule the world over a bottle
+of honest grog. In the pale light of subsequent revelations I ought,
+perhaps, to recall such a night, with that particular companion,
+silently and in spiritual ashes. But it is ridiculous, in my opinion, to
+fit some sort of consequence to every little insulated act; nor will I
+ever admit that poor Pharazyn's ultimate failing was in any appreciable
+degree promoted or prepared for by those our youthful full-souled
+orgies. I know very well that afterwards, when his life was spent in
+waylaying those aforesaid managers, in cold passages, on stage
+doorsteps, or, in desperation, under the public portico on the street;
+and when a hundred snubs and subterfuges would culminate in the return
+of his manuscript, ragged but unread: I know, and I knew then, that the
+wreck who would dodge me in Fleet Street, or cut me in the Strand, had
+taken to his glass more seriously and more steadily than a man should.
+But I am not sure that it matters much--_much_, you understand me--when
+that man's heart is broken.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"The last words I was ever to exchange with my poor old friend keep
+ringing in my head to this day, whenever I think of him; and I can
+repeat them every one. It was some few years after our intimacy had
+ceased, and when I only knew that he had degenerated into a Fleet Street
+loafer of the most dilapidated type, that I caught sight of him one day
+outside a theatre. It was the theatre which was for some years a
+gold-mine to one Morton Morrison, of whom you may never have heard; but
+he was a public pet in his day, I can tell you, and his day was just
+then at its high noon. Well, there stood Pharazyn, with his hands in his
+pockets and a cutty-pipe sticking out between his ragged beard and
+moustache, and his shoulders against the pit door, so that for once he
+could not escape me. But he wouldn't take a hand out of his pocket to
+shake mine; and when I asked him how he was, without thinking, he
+laughed in my face, and it made me feel cruel. He was dreadfully
+emaciated, and almost in rags. And as I wondered what I ought to do, and
+what to say next, he gave a cough, and spat upon the pavement, and I
+could see the blood.
+
+[Illustration: "THERE STOOD PHARAZYN."]
+
+"I don't know what you would have done for him--but for all I knew what
+had brought him to this, I could think of nothing but a drink. It was
+mid-winter, and I tell you the man was in rags. I felt that if I could
+get him to a bar he might eat something, too, and that I should get a
+hold of him this time which I would never again let go. Judge of my
+surprise when he flatly refused to come with me even for a drink.
+
+"'Can't you see? he said in his hollow voice. 'There'll be a crowd here
+directly, and I want the best seat in the pit--the best in the house.
+I've been going dry for it these two days, and I'm going dry till I've
+seen the piece. No, I've been here an hour already, and there's three
+hours more, I know; but I'm not going to risk it, thanks all the same.'
+
+"By this I had remembered that Morton Morrison was to re-open that night
+with a new piece. Indeed, I ought not to have forgotten that, seeing
+that I had my order about me somewhere, and it meant a column from my
+pen between twelve and one that night. But this sudden, sorry meeting
+had put all other thoughts out of my head.
+
+"'My dear fellow,' I said, with a sort of laugh, 'are you a
+first-nighter, too?'
+
+"'Only at this theatre.'
+
+"He looked me queerly in the face.
+
+"'You admire Morrison very much?'
+
+"'I love him!'
+
+"I suppose my eyes thawed him, though God knows how hard I was trying
+not to hurt him with pitying looks. At all events he began to explain
+himself of his own accord, very impetuously; indeed I rather think the
+outburst was purely involuntary.
+
+"'Look here,' he said, with his hoarse voice lowered: 'I hoped never to
+see your face again. I hoped you'd never see mine. But now you are here,
+don't go this minute, and I'll tell you why I think so much of Morton
+Morrison. I don't know him, mind you--he doesn't know me from Adam--but
+once long ago I had something to do with him. And God bless him, but
+damn every other manager in London, for he was the only one of the lot
+that gave me a civil hearing and a kind word!'
+
+"I knew what he was talking about, and he knew that I knew, for we had
+understood one another in the old days.
+
+"'I took it to him last of all,' he went on, wiping his damp lips with
+his hand. 'When I began hawking it about he was an unknown man; when his
+turn came he was here. He let me read it to him. Then he asked me to
+leave it with him for a week; and when I went back to him, he said what
+they had all said--that it would never act! But Morton Morrison said it
+nicely. And when he saw how it cut me up, into little bits, he got me to
+tell him all about everything; and then he persuaded me to burn the
+play, instead of ruining my life for it; and I burnt it in his
+dressing-room fire, but the ruin was too far gone to mend. I wrote that
+thing with my heart's blood--old man, you know I did! And none of them
+would think of it! My God! But Morrison was good about it--he's a good
+soul--and that's why you'll see me at every first night of his until the
+drink finishes its work.'
+
+"I had not followed him quite to the end. One thing had amazed me too
+much.
+
+"'You burnt your play,' I could only murmur, 'when it would have turned
+into such a novel! Surely you have some draft of it still?'
+
+"'I burnt the lot when I got home,' Pharazyn replied; 'and by-and-by I
+shall join 'em and burn too!'
+
+"I had nothing to answer to that, and was, besides, tenacious of my
+point. 'I don't think much of the kindness that makes one man persuade
+another to burn his work and throw up the sponge,' said I, with a good
+deal of indignation, for I did feel wroth with that fellow Morrison--a
+bread-and-butter drawing-room actor, whose very vogue used to irritate
+me.
+
+[Illustration: "WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THIS?"]
+
+"'Then what do you think of this?' asked Pharazyn, as he dipped a hand
+within his shabby coat, and cautiously unclenched it under my nose.
+
+"'Why, it's a five-pound note!'
+
+"'I know; but wasn't _that_ kind, then?'
+
+"'So Morrison gave you this!' I exclaimed.
+
+"Two or three persons had stopped to join us at the pit door, and
+Pharazyn hastily put the note back in his pocket. As he did so, his
+dreadfully shabby condition gave my heart a fresh cut.
+
+"'Are you never going to spend that?' I asked in a whisper; and in a
+whisper he answered:--
+
+"'Never! It is all my play has brought me--all. It was given me as a
+charity, but I took it as my earnings--my earnings for all the work and
+waiting, and blood and tears, that one thing cost me. Spend it? Not I!
+It will bury me as decently as I deserve.'
+
+"We could converse no more. And the presence of other people prevented
+me from giving him my overcoat, though I spoke of it into his ear,
+begging and imploring him to come away and take it while there was still
+time for him to clip back and get a seat in the front row. But he would
+not hear of it, and the way he refused reminded me of his old stubborn
+independence; all I got was a promise that he would have a bite with me
+after the performance. And so I left him in the frosty dusk, ill-clad
+and unkempt, with the new-lit lamp over the pit door shining down upon
+the haggard mask that had once been the eager, memorable face of my
+cleverest friend.
+
+"I saw him next the moment I entered the theatre that evening, and I
+nodded my head to him, which he rebuked with the slightest shake of his
+own. So I looked no more at him before the play began, comprehending
+that he desired me not to do so. The temptation, however, was too strong
+to go on resisting, for while Pharazyn was in the very centre of the
+front row in the pit, I was at one end of the last row of the stalls;
+and I was very anxious about him, wanting to make sure that he was there
+and not going to escape me again, and nervous of having him out of my
+sight for five minutes together.
+
+"Thus I know more about the gradual change which came over Pharazyn's
+poor face, as scene followed scene, than of the developments and merits
+of those scenes themselves. My mind was in any case running more on my
+lost friend than on the piece; but it was not till near the end of the
+first act that the growing oddity of his look first struck me.
+
+"His eyebrows were raised; it was a look of incredulity chiefly; yet I
+could see nothing to impale for improbability in the play as far as it
+had gone. I was but lightly attending, for my own purposes, as you
+youngsters skim your betters for review; but thus far the situation
+struck me as at once feasible and promising. Also it seemed not a little
+familiar to me; I could not say why, for watching Pharazyn's face. And
+it was his face that told me at last, in the second act. By God, it was
+his own play!
+
+"It was Pharazyn's play, superficially altered all through, nowhere
+substantially; but the only play for me, when I knew that, was being
+acted in the front row of the pit, and not on the stage, to which I had
+turned the side of my head. I watched my old friend's face writhe and
+work until it stiffened in a savage calm; and watching, I thought of the
+'first night' he had pictured jovially in the old days, when the bare
+idea of the piece was bursting his soul; and thinking, I wondered
+whether it could add a drop to his bitterness to remember that too.
+
+"Yet, through all my thoughts, I was listening, intently enough, now.
+And in the third act I heard the very words my friend had written: they
+had not meddled with his lines in the great scene which had moved us
+both to tears long ago in my rooms. And this I swear to, whether you
+believe it or no--that at the crisis of that scene, which was just as
+Pharazyn made it, the calm ferocity transfiguring his face died away all
+at once, and I saw it shining with the sweetest tears our eyes can
+shed--the tears of an artist over his own work.
+
+"And when the act was over he sat with his head on his hand for some
+minutes, drinking in the applause, as I well knew; then he left his seat
+and squeezed out on my side of the house, and I made sure he was coming
+to speak to me over the barrier; and I got up to speak to him; but he
+would not see me, but stood against the barrier with a mien as white and
+set as chiselled marble.
+
+"What followed on the first fall of the curtain I shall relate as
+rapidly as it happened. Louder call for an author I never heard, and I
+turned my eyes to the stage in my intense curiosity to see who would
+come forward; for the piece had been brought out anonymously; and I
+divined that Morrison himself was about to father it. And so he did; but
+as the lie passed his lips, and in the interval before the applause--the
+tiny interval between flash and peal--the lie was given him in a roar of
+fury from my left; there fell a thud of feet at my side, and Pharazyn
+was over the barrier and bolting down the gangway towards the stage. I
+think he was near making a leap for the footlights and confronting
+Morrison on his own boards; but the orchestra came between, and the
+fiddlers rose in their places. Then he turned wildly to us pressmen, and
+I will say he had our ear, if not that of the whole house besides, for
+the few words he was allowed to utter.
+
+"'Gentlemen!' he cried at the top of his voice--'Gentlemen, I'm one of
+you! I'm a writing man like yourselves, and I wrote this play that
+you've seen. That man never wrote it at all--I wrote it myself! That man
+has only altered it. I read it to him two years ago--two years ago,
+gentlemen! He kept it for a week, and then got me to burn it as
+rubbish--when he had made a copy of it! And he gave me this,
+gentlemen--he gave me this that I give him back!'
+
+"It was a matter of only a few seconds, but not till my own last hour
+shall I forget Morrison's painted face on the stage, or that sweating
+white one beneath the boxes; or the fluttering from Pharazyn's poor
+fingers of the five-pound note he had treasured for two years; or the
+hush all over the house until the first hand was laid upon his dirty
+collar.
+
+"'What!' he screamed, 'do none of you believe me? Will none of you stand
+by me--isn't there a man--not one man among you----'
+
+"And they threw him out with my name on his lips. And I followed, and
+floored a brute who was handling him roughly. And nothing happened to
+me--because of what happened to Pharazyn!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The dear old boy sat silent, his grey head on his hand. Presently he
+went on, more to himself than to me: "What could I do? What proof had I?
+He had burnt them every one. And as long as the public would stand him,
+Morrison kept his good name at least. And that play was his great
+success!"
+
+[Illustration: "HE GAVE ME THIS."]
+
+I ventured gently to inquire what had happened to Pharazyn.
+
+"He died in my arms," my old friend cried, throwing up his head with an
+oath and a tear. "He died in a few minutes, outside the theatre. I could
+hear them clapping after he was dead--clapping his piece."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Zig Zags at the Zoo: Conkavian
+
+
+If the gentle reader, full of a general desire for knowledge and a
+particular enthusiasm for natural history, will refer to any one of the
+great standard works on birds, and, turning to the index, seek for the
+family title of the Conkaves, I have every hope and confidence that he
+will not find it; because, as a matter of fact, it is a little invention
+of my own, and, I may modestly urge, rather a neat thing in scientific
+nomenclature, on the whole. It has the advantage of including in one
+family the storks and the pelicans, which in all orthodox books on birds
+are planted far apart and out of sight of each other, with many orders,
+tribes, and families between. Under my title they are gathered amicably
+together in the common possession of very long bills, like two tailors
+on a man's doorstep. The word is derived, in the proper and regular
+manner, from ancient sources; from _conk_, a venerable Eastern word,
+signifying a nose or beak, and the Latin _avis_, a bird. And I offer
+the term freely as my humble, but I trust useful, contribution to
+science; my first contribution.
+
+The stork is regarded, in many countries, with a certain
+semi-superstitious reverence and esteem. After many prolonged and
+serious attempts to saturate myself with a similar feeling, I regret to
+confess to a certain smallness of esteem for the stork. You can't esteem
+a bird that makes ugly digs at your feet and heels with such a very big
+beak. Out in their summer quarters the storks are kept in by close wire,
+and close wire will give an air of inoffensiveness to most things. But,
+away in a by-yard, with a gate marked "private," there stands a shed
+wherein the storks are kept warm in winter, behind wooden bars; and
+between these bars stork-heads have a way of dropping at the toes of the
+favoured passer-by, like to action of a row of roadmen's picks.
+
+[Illustration: PICKS AND CHEWS.]
+
+The stork has come off well in the matter of bodily endowment. The
+pelican has a tremendous beak--achieved, it would seem, by a skimping of
+material in the legs; but the stork has the tremendous beak and legs of
+surprising growth as well. His wings, too, are something more than
+respectable. At flying, at eating, at portentous solemnity of
+demeanour--in all these and in other things the pelican and the stork
+score fairly evenly; but at walking the pelican is left behind at once.
+This makes one suspect the stork's honesty. The pelican has a good beak
+and wings, and pays for them, like an honest bird, out of its legs, just
+as the ostrich pays for its neck and legs out of its wings. But the
+stork is abnormally lucky in beak, neck, legs, and wings together, and
+even then has material left to lay out in superfluous knobs and wens to
+hang round its neck, which leads to a suspicion that many of its
+personal fittings belong properly to some other bird. I've a notion that
+the unlucky kiwi might identify some of the property.
+
+[Illustration: THE PELICAN LEFT.]
+
+[Illustration: ARMY.]
+
+Perhaps the adjutant should be acknowledged king of the conkavians.
+Billy, the Zoo adjutant, has, I believe, no doubt on the subject at all.
+Billy is an ornament to the military profession--a very fine fellow,
+with a thing on the back of his neck like a Tangerine orange, and a wen
+on the front of it, which he can blow out whenever he wants to amuse
+himself, and everything else handsome about him. He is an old soldier,
+too, is Billy, having been Adjutant of the Regent's Park Conkavian Corps
+for seventeen years; but if you knew nothing of his age, still you would
+call Billy an old soldier--upon a little acquaintance with his habits.
+
+[Illustration: LAW.]
+
+There seems no valid reason why the professional aspirations of the
+stork should be restricted to the army. If an adjutant, why not a dean?
+Why not a proctor? There is the making of a most presentable don about a
+stork; and I have caught a stork in an attitude of judicial meditation
+that might do honour to any bench. There is no reason why "sober as a
+judge" should not be made to read "sober as a stork," except that the
+stork is the more solemn creature of the two; and I think that some
+species of stork--say the marabou, for instance--might fairly claim
+brevet rank as judge, after the example of the adjutant. The elevation
+of a beak to the bench might be considered an irregular piece of legal
+procedure; but, bless you, it's nothing unusual with a stork. Put any
+bench with something to eat on it anywhere within reach of a stork's
+beak in this place, and you shall witness that same elevation, precedent
+or no precedent.
+
+[Illustration: UNIVERSITIES.]
+
+A common white stork hasn't half the solid gravity of an adjutant or a
+marabou. He has a feline habit of expressing his displeasure by blowing
+and swearing--a habit bad and immoral in a cat, but worse in a stork
+accustomed to Church. Church, by-the-bye, is the keeper of all the
+conkavians, as well as of the herons, the flamingoes, the ibises, the
+egrets, and a number of other birds with names more difficult to spell.
+It is impossible to treat disrespectfully a man with such widespread
+responsibilities as this, or there might be a temptation to mention that
+he is not an unusually high Church, although his services are not always
+simple, often involving a matter of doctorin'. But, then, some people
+will say anything, temptation or none. And after all, it is pleasant to
+know that, whatever a stork or a pelican wants, he always goes to
+Church.
+
+[Illustration: SWEARING.]
+
+[Illustration: CHURCH.]
+
+This being the case, there is a proverb about cleanliness that makes one
+wonder why the marabou stork doesn't wash himself. It isn't as though he
+never wanted it. I have a horrible suspicion about this philosophic old
+sloven. I believe his profession of philosophic contemplation is
+assumed, because it is the easiest excuse for indolence. Now, a pelican
+is not a bird of graceful outline, but he _is_ careful about his
+feathers. The pelican is a scrupulous old Dutchman, and the stork is an
+uncleanly old Hindu. And uncleanly he must be left, for it takes a deal
+to shame a stork. You can't shame a bird that wraps itself in a
+convenient philosophy. "Look here--look at me!" you can imagine a
+pelican cleanliness-missionary saying to the stork. "See how white and
+clean I keep all my feathers!" "Um," says the stork, "it only makes 'em
+a different colour." "But observe! I just comb through my pinions with
+my beak, so, and they all lie neat and straight!" "Well, and what's the
+good of that?" grunts the stork. "And then you see," says the pelican,
+ignoring the question, "with a good long beak you can reach everywhere,
+over your back and under your wings; see, I'm as clean under my wings as
+anywhere else, although it's covered up!" "Beastly vanity," growls the
+old Hindu, getting bored. "Then," continues the Dutchman, "you give
+yourself a good shake, and there you are!" "And then," says the
+philosopher sarcastically, "to-morrow, I suppose, you'll have to do it
+all over again?" "Of course!" "Oh! I hate a fool!" says the stork, and
+closes the lecture.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Thus the marabou. The ordinary white stork is comparatively respectable,
+and so is the adjutant--or comparatively almost respectable, let us say;
+you can't be too cautious in giving a personal character to a stork.
+For long, long, the stork has enjoyed a reputation for solemn wisdom,
+for philosophical dignity. Now for the first time I venture to question
+this reputation--to impeach the stork as a humbug. It is easy to achieve
+a reputation for profound and ponderous wisdom, so long as one looks
+very solemn and says nothing. This is the stork's recipe. Go up to Billy
+here, or one of the marabous, as he stands with his shoulders humped up
+about his head, and make a joke. He won't see it. He will lift his
+eyebrows with a certain look of contempt, and continue to
+cogitate--about nothing. If the joke is a very bad pun--such a frightful
+pun that even a stork will see and resent it--perhaps he will chatter
+his beak savagely, with a noise like the clatter of the lid on an empty
+cigar-box; but he will continue his sham meditations. "Ah, my friend,"
+he seems to say, "you are empty and frivolous--I cogitate the profounder
+immensities of esoteric cogibundity." The fact being that he is very
+seedy after his previous night's dissipation.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+That is the chief secret of the stork's solemnity, I am convinced. He
+has a certain reputation to maintain before visitors, but after hours,
+when the gates are shut and the keepers are not there to see, the
+marabou stork is a sad dog. I haven't quite made up my mind what he
+drinks, but if he has brandies and sodas he leaves out too much soda.
+Look at that awful nose! It is long past the crimson and pimply
+stage--it is taking a decided tinge of blue. It _looks_ worse than
+brandy and soda--almost like bad gin--but we will be as charitable as
+possible, and only call it brandy and soda.
+
+I should like to see the marabou stork on his nightly ran-tan, if only
+to gloat over his lapse of dignity, just as one would give much to see
+Benjamin Franklin with his face blacked, drunk and disorderly and being
+locked up. But, as a shocking example, the marabou is quite bad enough
+with his awful head in the morning; his awful head and his disreputable
+nose, that looks to want a good scraping. I respect Billy, the adjutant,
+for his long service and the Tangerine at the back of his neck. The
+ordinary stork (although he swears and snaps) I also respect, because
+the goody books used to tell pious lies about him. The whale-headed
+stork, which is also called the shoe-bird, I respect as a sort of
+relative of the shoo-fly that didn't bother somebody. But the marabou
+has forfeited all respect--converted it into nose-tint. I must talk to
+Church seriously about the marabou.
+
+[Illustration: THE RAN-TAN.]
+
+Now, the pelican is no humbug. There is nothing like concealment about
+his little dissipations; and he is perfectly sober. Any little
+irregularity at the pelican club just opposite the eastern aviary never
+goes beyond a quiet round or two for a little fish dinner. It is quite a
+select and a most proper club. Indeed, the first rule is, that if any
+loose fish be found on the club premises, he is got rid of at once by
+the first member who detects him. And the club spirit is such that
+disputes frequently occur among members for the honour of carrying out
+this salutary rule. The chairman of the club is an old crested pelican,
+who, by some oversight, has never been provided with a private name of
+his own. I think he should be called Peter, because he can take such a
+miraculous draught of fishes. It _is_ a draught; you know--a pelican
+doesn't eat fishes--he drinks them down in bulk. For Peter, a dozen or
+so fresh herrings is a mere swill round of the mouth.
+
+[Illustration: A QUIET ROUND OR TWO.]
+
+Peter walks about the club premises with much dignity, deferred to on
+all sides by the other members. His kingship is rarely disputed, having
+been achieved by the sort of conquest most familiar in the pelican club;
+and his divine right is as much respected as his tremendous left.
+
+A pelican never bears malice; he hasn't time, especially now, with
+competition so keen in the fish business, and Church's fish pails only
+of the ordinary size. There is never any ill-feeling after a little
+spar, and each proceeds, in the most amicable way, to steal some other
+pelican's fish. A spar at this club, by-the-bye, is a joyous and
+hilarious sight. Two big birds with stumpy legs and top-heavy beaks,
+solemnly prancing and manoeuvring before one another with an
+accompaniment of valiant gobbles and a punctuation of occasional
+pecks--a gleesome spectacle.
+
+[Illustration: PETER.]
+
+[Illustration: A SWILL ROUND.]
+
+Another sport much exhibited at the pelican club is that of
+the broadsword. The school of fence is that of Mr. Vincent
+Crummies--one--two--three--four--over; one--two--three--four--under.
+You see, when a dozen or two birds with beaks a couple of feet long or
+so get together in a small area, and now and again rush all in the same
+direction for fish, fencing is certain to develop, sooner or later. So
+here you have it, _secundum artem_--one--two--three--four--over;
+one--two--three--four--under; and although none have yet attained the
+Crummleian degree of knocking out sparks, there is a deal of hollow
+noise, as of thumping on a wooden box. But there is never any
+after-malice, and in less than five minutes either combatant will
+swallow a fish rightfully belonging to the other, with perfect
+affability.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+There is a good deal of the philosopher about the pelican, and of a more
+genuine sort than characterizes the stork. The pelican always makes the
+best of a bad job, without going into an unnecessary tantrum over it. If
+another member of the club snatches a fish first, the pelican doesn't
+bother, but devotes his attention to the next that Church throws; a fish
+in the pouch is worth a shoal in somebody else's. Now and again Peter
+loses his temper for a moment if the others catch the first snack, and
+lays about him with his bill--but then, when a fellow's chairman, and a
+lot of other fellows come snatching the lunch from under his nose--why,
+hang it all, you know.... But it is only for a moment, and Peter is soon
+in position for the next pouchful. He is artful about this position.
+When Church appears at the rails with a pailful of fish most of the
+members rush to those rails, jostle together and shove their beaks
+through them and over them--any way to get nearer the pail. But the
+chairman knows very well that Church doesn't throw the fish outside the
+rails, but into the inclosure, somewhere near the middle; and near the
+middle the sagacious Peter waits, to his early profit--unless Church is
+unusually slow about throwing the fish, in which case Peter is apt to
+let his excitement steal his sagacity, and to rush into the pell-mell,
+anxious to investigate the delay.
+
+[Illustration: A LITTLE SOLEING AND HEELING.]
+
+There is a deal of excellent wear in a pelican. One has been here about
+thirty years, and two more have been established on the same premises
+for a quarter of a century. All these three are in capital working
+repair and will probably last, with a patch or two, and a little soleing
+and heeling, for a century or two more; no respectable pelican is ever
+bowled out for less than three figures.
+
+In the winter the club takes up its quarters in the shed behind the
+inclosure; a shed sumptuously furnished with certain benches and forms,
+whereon the club stands in rows, with a general appearance of a number
+of very solemn naughty boys in a Board school. In winter, too, Church
+will often put his bucketful of fish on the ground, so that the club may
+dine in a clubbier way. But whether you watch this club feeding together
+from the pail, each member doing his best to put away the whole pailful
+at a gulp, or whether you observe them playing a sort of greedy game of
+lacrosse with fish which Church throws them, you will be equally amazed
+that the pelican was used as a symbol of charity and brotherly love in
+early and middle Christian art.
+
+[Illustration: SCHOOL.]
+
+[Illustration: CLUB DINNER.]
+
+I have seen a pelican enact a most instructive moral lesson at a
+pail-dinner. Observe the bill and pouch of a pelican. The pouch is an
+elastic fishing-net, and the lower mandible is a mere flexible frame to
+carry it. Now, I have observed a pelican to make a bounce at the
+fish-pail, with outspread wings, and scoop the whole supply. But then
+his trouble began. The whole catch hung weightily low in the end of the
+pouch, and jerk and heave as he might, he could never lift the load at
+the end of that long beak sufficiently high to bolt it. Meanwhile, his
+friends collected about him and remonstrated, with many flops and
+gobbles, betting him all his fish to nothing that he would lose it after
+all; this way they chased that bag, and that way, while the bagger, in
+much trepidation and with many desperate heaves, wildly sought remote
+corners away from his persecutors. Now, by the corner of the club
+premises stands an appliance, the emblem of authority, the instrument of
+justice, and the terror of the evilly-disposed pelican--a birch-broom.
+This, brandished in the hands of Church, caused a sudden and awful
+collapse of the drag-nets, an opening, a shower of fish and many snaps;
+wherefrom walked away many pelicans with fish, and one with none, who
+had looked to take all. The moral is plain to the verge of ugliness.
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+A pelican has no tongue--or none to speak of. It is a mere little knob
+scarcely the size of a cherry. The long, long meditations of the pelican
+(lasting between feeding times) are given up to consideration whether or
+not the disgrace of this deficiency is counter-balanced by the greater
+capacity for fish which it gives the pouch. After all, it is only
+another instance of that commercial honesty which makes the pelican pay
+for his beak out of his legs; he gives his tongue for a pouch. There
+should be a legend of the pelican applying honestly to Adam to buy a
+pouch, and the wily stork waiting and waiting on the chance of snatching
+one without paying for it, until all had been served out; afterwards
+living all its life on earth in covetous dudgeon, unconsoled by its
+wealth of beak, legs, wings, and neck, and pining hopelessly for the
+lost pouch. There are many legends of this sort which ought to exist,
+but don't, owing to the negligence of Indian solar myth merchants, or
+whoever it is has charge of that class of misrepresentation.
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+The pelican can fly, although you would never believe it, to look at the
+club members here. To a Zoo pelican a flight of two feet is an
+undertaking to be approached with much circumspection and preparation,
+and a summoning of resolution and screwing of courage proper to the
+magnitude of the feat. It takes a long time to learn to fly on to a
+bottom-up bucket. The Zoo pelican begins on a shadow--not a very dark
+one at first--and works his way up by jumping over, darker shadows to
+straws and pebbles, before he tries a bucket. The accomplished
+bucket-jumper makes a long preliminary survey and circumnavigation of
+his bucket before performing, and when he does begin it is with a number
+of wild rushes and irresolute stops. When at last he gets the proper
+length of run, and the right foot in front, and doesn't see anything to
+baulk him, he rises with a great effort, and all the lookers-on who
+don't know him stare up over the trees, and are astonished to find him,
+after all, only on the bucket. His pinions are cut, poor fellow! If they
+were not, what would become of the fishmongers' shops?
+
+
+
+
+_Shafts from an Eastern Quiver_.
+
+IX.--MAW-SAYAH: THE KEEPER OF THE GREAT BURMAN NAT.
+
+By Charles J. Mansford, B.A.
+
+
+I.
+
+"The fine points of an elephant, sahib," said our guide Hassan, "are a
+colour approaching to white, the nails perfectly black, and an intact
+tail."
+
+"I am glad to hear that an elephant has some qualities which recommend
+it," said Denviers, good-humouredly. "I should think that the one upon
+which we are riding is about as lazy as it is possible to be. I suppose
+slowness is an unusually good point, isn't it, Hassan?" The Arab, who
+was sitting before us on the elephant, gave it a stir with the
+sharply-pointed spear which he held in his hand to urge it on, and then
+glancing back at us, as we reclined lazily in the cushioned howdah, he
+said inquiringly: "Are the sahibs tired already of travelling thus? Yet
+we have fully two hours' journey before us."
+
+"Hassan," I interposed, "this is a good opportunity for you to tell us
+exactly what you heard about that Maw-Sayah when we were at Bhamo. It is
+in consequence of that, indeed, that we are going to try to get among
+these strange Kachyens; but as we are not quite sure of the details, you
+may as well repeat them."
+
+"The sahib shall be obeyed," responded our guide, and although careful
+to keep a good watch in front, he turned his body slightly towards us as
+he prepared to begin the narrative.
+
+[Illustration: "THE SAHIB SHALL BE OBEYED."]
+
+On reaching Burmah we stayed for several days in Rangoon, the Queen of
+the East as it is called nowadays, although only remarkable formerly for
+its famous monasteries of Talapoins and as a halting-place for the bands
+of pilgrims on their way to the mighty Shway Dagohn pagoda. Thence we
+journeyed up the Irawaddy, and having duly paid reverence to some of the
+nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine pagodas of Pagan--the outcast
+slaves of which city seemed a strange contrast to its otherwise absolute
+desertion--we continued our journey by steamer as far as Mandalay.
+Having endured the doubtful pleasure of a jaunt in a seatless, jolting
+bullock-carriage--the bruises from which were not easily forgotten--we
+eventually reached Bhamo, where Hassan entered into conversation with a
+hill-man. From the latter he learnt a strange story, which was later on
+told to us and the truth of which we hoped before long to fully test,
+for soon afterwards we set out on an elephant, our faithful guide in
+this new adventure again proving himself of the greatest service.
+
+"Now, Hassan," said Denviers, "we are quite ready to hear this story
+fully, but don't add any imaginary details of your own."
+
+"By the Koran, sahib," began the Arab, "these are the words which were
+those of him to whom I spoke under the shade of the log stockade."
+
+"Which are, of course, unimpeachable," responded Denviers. "Anyone could
+tell that from his shifty eyes, which failed to rest upon us fixed even
+for a minute when we spoke to him afterwards." The Arab seemed a little
+disconcerted at this, but soon continued:--
+
+"The great Spirits or Nats, who guard the prosperity of Burmah, have
+become greatly incensed with the Kachyens, not because they failed to
+resist stoutly when the monarch was deposed a few years ago----"
+
+"Then we are to have a modern story, this time, Hassan?" interrupted
+Denviers. "I quite expected that you would commence with some long
+worn-out tradition."
+
+"The sahibs shall hear," the Arab went on. "No one who offends the Nats
+of Burmah need expect anything but evil to follow. There are the Nats of
+the sky, the Nats of the earth, the Nats of the Irawaddy, the Nats of
+the five hundred little rivers, and the thousand Nats which guarded the
+sacred person of the monarch----"
+
+"Yes, Hassan," said Denviers, impatiently, "you mentioned them all
+before. We haven't time to hear the list enumerated now; go on about
+this one particular Nat which you say is causing such havoc among the
+hill-tribes."
+
+"Patience, sahib. The Nats were justly roused to anger because the
+deposed monarch was not afterwards taken to the water's edge riding upon
+an elephant instead of in a bullock-carriage."
+
+"Well, Hassan," said Denviers, "judging from our own experience the Nats
+seem to be pretty sensible, I must say--but how do they affect the peace
+of mind of the Kachyens?"
+
+"Listen, sahib. High among the hills which may be seen stretching before
+us lies a village in which many of the Kachyens dwell, their occupation
+being sometimes that of tillers of the land, but more often consisting
+in planning and carrying out raids upon other hill-men, or of descending
+at times to the plains, and there looting the towns wherein dwell more
+peaceable tribes. In all their forays they had been successful, for
+whenever their trusty dahs or swords were drawn, those who opposed them
+invariably obtained the worst of the encounter. So powerful did they
+become that at last those dwelling in the plains--Shans, Karenns, and
+Talaings, too--made no resistance against their attacks; and when they
+saw the produce of their fields carried away, thought themselves happy
+not to have been slain. The reason why the Kachyens became so successful
+in all they undertook was that a powerful forest Nat placed them under
+its protection, and hence they could not be harmed by their foes.
+
+"Now it chanced that the King was in great danger through following the
+advice of his impetuous ministers, whereupon he summoned the Kachyens to
+his assistance--for their fame as warriors had reached his ears long
+before. But they, confident of securing their own safety whatever
+happened to the monarch, refused to obey his command to march against
+the Burman foes. The consequence was that when the indignity which I
+have mentioned was offered to the deposed monarch, the Nats throughout
+Burmah were furious with that one who ruled the village in which the
+Kachyens dwelt, and they sent some of their number to destroy it. The
+latter, however, appeased them by making a grim promise, which has been
+only too faithfully kept.
+
+"A few days afterwards a hill-man, who was clearing a part of the land
+on the woody slope of the height, _saw the Nat_, which had never before
+been visible, and, terrified at the strange form which it had assumed,
+he ran hastily to the rest of the tribe, and, gathering them together,
+held a consultation as to what should be done to appease it. Some
+suggested that upon every tree trunk should be scratched appealing
+messages, which the Nat might read; others were in favour of placing a
+huge heap of spears and swords near the spot where the embodied Nat had
+been seen in order that it might be tempted to destroy all those who
+urged it to injure them. The messages and weapons, however, when placed
+for the Nat to observe did no good, for one dreadful night a rattling
+was heard of the bamboos, which lay before one of the Kachyen's huts,
+and the man, going hastily to see what caused it, was swiftly carried
+away in the darkness without apparently uttering a single cry! For many
+nights in succession a similar scene was enacted, for he at whose door
+the dire summons came dared not refuse to answer it lest the whole
+household might perish.
+
+"Nothing more was ever seen of those thus strangely carried off, and the
+Kachyens, each of whom feared that his own end might come next,
+determined to consult some famous Buddhist priests who dwelt not far
+from them, and who held charge over the famous marble slabs which the
+great War Prince of Burmah had caused to be engraved concerning their
+illustrious traditions. The man whom ye saw me conversing with by the
+stockade was the one whom the tribe intrusted with the task; but the
+priests, after much consideration among themselves of the object of his
+visit, refused to have anything to do with such a tragic affair, and
+thereupon dismissed their suppliant.
+
+[Illustration: "THE BUDDHIST PRIESTS."]
+
+"This Kachyen, when sorrowfully returning towards the hills, fearing
+that the tribe would destroy him because of his non-success, chanced to
+meet on his way a Mogul, to whom he repeated the story. The latter,
+laying his hand on his red-dyed and fierce-looking beard, advised the
+Kachyen to enter a hole in the mountain side and to consult a famous
+Maw-Sayah, or juggler, who dwelt there. This juggler promised assistance
+if the tribe would pay him a great reward in the event of his success,
+and when they agreed to this he entered the village and waited for dusk
+to arrive. Again the dreadful rattling was heard, and another Kachyen
+stepped out to meet his fate. None of the tribe dared to look at what
+transpired, except the juggler, and he too disappeared! The next
+morning, however, he came into the village and called its inhabitants
+together. When they had solemnly agreed to his conditions, he stated
+that the Nat was bent upon destroying them all, and that to attempt to
+escape by means of flight would only lead to quicker death. Then he told
+them what the result of his intercession for them had been.
+
+"The Nat had been persuaded to destroy only one victim on each seventh
+evening at dusk, and had appointed him to see that certain conditions
+were not broken. He was to have a hut at his disposal, and into this the
+men were to go by lot, and thus the Nat would obtain a victim when the
+time came round. They were forbidden to wander about after sunset, and
+whatever noises were made not to hearken to them, since the Maw-Sayah
+would see that the others were unharmed. So long had this dreadful
+destruction lasted that more than one-half of the men in the Kachyen
+village, or town, as it might well be called from the large number who
+inhabited it, had perished, and yet the Nat still demanded a victim, and
+the Maw-Sayah is there to see that the compact is fulfilled. The man who
+told this story, sahibs, declares that the keeper of the Nat has by this
+means obtained sway over the Kachyens to such an extent that they have
+become his abject slaves, for the custom of drawing lots has been
+abolished, and he selects whom he will to sacrifice to the Nat. By some
+means this Kachyen offended the Maw-Sayah, who thereupon condemned him,
+but he, in terror of the sudden and silent death in store for him, fled
+to Bhamo, where he lives in momentary fear of destruction. Such then,
+sahibs, is the story, and it is to see this Maw-Sayah and the Nat at
+their fell work to-night that even now our faces are turned to the high
+land before us, up which we must climb, for there is but one narrow
+pathway leading to the village."
+
+Hassan ceased, and then Denviers turned to me as he said:--
+
+"I think that this Maw-Sayah, as Hassan calls him, has about as much
+faith in Nats as we have. It suits his purpose to league himself with
+something mysterious; whatever it is we will try to find out," and he
+glanced at the weapons which we carried.
+
+
+II.
+
+"The sahibs must dismount here", said Hassan shortly afterwards, and
+following to the ground our guide, we began to climb the mountain path
+which stretched before us. The ascent was exceedingly steep, and several
+times we stopped to rest after pushing our way through the tangled
+masses which almost hid the path, which was itself cut here and there
+apparently through the rocky strata. When we had reached about
+three-fourths of our journey Hassan stopped and pointed out to us one of
+the thatched roofs of a hut, which seemed in the distance scarcely
+noticeable until his keen eyesight discovered it. The village, we found,
+lay a little to the left of the mountain path, for on nearing the summit
+we found ourselves passing through a peculiar avenue of trees
+interspersed with long bamboo poles. From the tops of the latter there
+were stretched across the approach strong, rough-looking cords, which
+supported various uncouth emblems, and among which were large triangles,
+circles, and stars, cut apparently out of the stems of huge bamboos.
+After traversing this avenue for nearly three hundred yards we saw the
+tree trunks which Hassan had mentioned, and which were deeply scarred
+with cabalistic messages to the fierce Nat, which we could not of course
+understand. Affixed to some of the trees farther on we saw a number of
+spears and dahs mingled with shorter weapons, the latter being made of
+some species of hard wood, and close to them we observed the skulls of
+several large animals, one of which we judged was that of an elephant.
+
+[Illustration: "THE AVENUE."]
+
+In spite of the fact that the village was a large one, the buildings
+were of a very primitive construction, being made of bamboos with
+thatched coverings, reaching almost to the piles on which the huts were
+placed. We did not observe any openings made to serve as windows, the
+only ones noticeable being those by which the Kachyens entered, placed
+above a bamboo ladder, which seemed to, serve instead of steps. Although
+the sun had scarcely set, the village was wrapped in a strange silence,
+the sound of our footsteps alone being heard. The smoke that seemed to
+be forcing its way through stray holes in the thatch amply convinced us,
+however, that the inhabitants were within doors, and, turning to our
+Arab guide, I asked him if he could distinguish among the many huts the
+one in which we expected to find the Maw-Sayah. He seemed a little
+uncertain at first, but after wandering through the village together we
+returned, and then Hassan, who had been very observant the whole time,
+pointed to one of the rudely-constructed huts and said:--
+
+"I think that is the one into which we seek to enter; it is situated
+according to the position in which the Kachyen said it was, and,
+besides, it bears a strange proof of the story which ye have listened to
+with such ill-concealed disbelief."
+
+"Why do you think that is the hut, Hassan?" I asked, for, to my eyes, no
+difference between that and the others close to it was distinguishable.
+
+"If the sahib will look at the bamboo ladder and observe it carefully,
+he will see that it is unlike the others round," said the Arab.
+
+"I suppose you refer to these deep scratches upon it, don't you,
+Hassan?" asked Denviers, as he pointed to some marks, a few of which
+were apparently fairly recent.
+
+"The sahib guesses rightly," answered our guide. "You will remember that
+the Kachyen stated to me that the Nat is accustomed to obtain its victim
+now from the abode of the Maw-Sayah; those marks, then, have been made
+by it when it dragged its human prey out of the hut." We gazed curiously
+at the marks for a few minutes, then Denviers broke the silence by
+asking the Arab why it was that the Nat made marks at all.
+
+"I should have thought that such a powerful spirit could prevent such
+evidences of its presence becoming observed," he continued. "My respect
+for it is certainly not increased by seeing those deep scars; they seem
+to be made by something which has sharp claws."
+
+"That is because of the shape which it has assumed, sahib," said the
+Arab, "for the Nats have wondrous powers----"
+
+"Very likely, Hassan," interposed Denviers; "I suppose they can do
+exactly what they like, can they not?" I was much surprised at the limit
+which was, however, placed upon their powers by our guide, for he
+responded quickly:--
+
+"Not altogether, sahib. There is one thing that a Nat cannot do,
+according to the reports of these Kachyens, and that is, they are unable
+to move in a direction which is not straight, and hence they are careful
+to avoid rough ground, where tangled masses and boulders bar their
+progress, so they usually frequent the open avenues, such as the one
+which we have just passed through. The symbols above it and the writings
+and weapons are all for the Nat's benefit."
+
+"And the elephant's skull?" asked Denviers, irreverently. "What is that
+put up for?" The Arab, however, had an explanation ready, for he
+promptly replied:--
+
+"That indicates where the supplies of food are to be found when the Nat
+requires any." Denviers turned to me for a moment as he said:--
+
+"I should have thought it a good plan, then, to have put it upon the hut
+of this Maw-Sayah whom we are about to interview. See that your weapons
+are in good order, Harold, we may soon need them." Giving a cautious
+look at my belt and the weapons thrust into it, I followed Denviers, who
+had mounted the short bamboo ladder, and was endeavouring to obtain
+admission to the hut. We heard a harsh sound within, then the cry of
+someone apparently terror-stricken, and a moment afterwards we had
+pushed past the Maw-Sayah, who by no means was willing to allow us to
+enter the rude dwelling.
+
+The single room, which seemed to constitute the hut, was extremely low
+and bare of furniture entirely. A few bamboos were spread in one part of
+it, while at the far end was a fire, the light from which was partly
+obscured by the smoke, which almost suffocated us, so thickly did it
+roll up and then spread through the hut. Near the door stood a man
+scarcely clothed, upon whose face we saw a look of the most abject
+terror, for, as we surmised, the noise of our entry was mistaken by him
+for the approach of the fell thing to which he was condemned by the
+Maw-Sayah. We moved towards the latter as he threw himself down by the
+fire, which he had only left to see who it was that came unbidden to the
+hut where to enter was the preceding event to death. He was clothed in a
+long blue strip of linen, which wound round his waist and covered his
+body, partly leaving his dark chest uncovered. His features were stamped
+with an appearance of supreme cunning, his oblique eyes reminding us of
+a Chinaman, while the fierce look in them as they glared at us from
+either side of an aquiline nose, which betrayed his Burmese descent, did
+not increase our confidence in the man as he stretched out his bony
+hands over the fire as if for warmth, although outside the hut we had
+found the heat almost insupportable.
+
+"What do ye seek?" he demanded, as he looked into our faces in turn and
+seemed astonished at our strange features.
+
+"We are travellers who wished to see a Kachyen village," responded
+Denviers, "and we further desired to see some of its inhabitants; but
+as none were visible we entered this hut, even against your will. Where
+are the people who dwell here?" The man whom my companion addressed
+pointed to the Kachyen near the doorway, as he responded:--
+
+"There is one of them, and in a short time even he will never be seen
+again."
+
+[Illustration: "WHAT DO YE SEEK?"]
+
+"Can you give us food?" hazarded Hassan, in order to get the man to
+continue his conversation, for the Arab evidently was expecting that the
+Nat would soon arrive upon the scene. The Maw-Sayah rose and pointed to
+the entrance as he cried:--
+
+"That way ye came, that way shall ye depart. Food for ye I have not, nor
+would I give it if I had." I turned to Denviers and said in a low
+tone:--
+
+"What shall we do, Frank? I don't think our opportunity of seeing what
+may transpire will be as good within the hut as without it. Whatever the
+solution is to this affair, if we are outside we shall see this Kachyen
+dragged away, and may further watch the approach of whatever caused
+those strange marks which we observed."
+
+"One thing is clear," said my companion, "we will attempt to save this
+intended victim, at all events. I expect that if we tried we could get
+him away easily enough, but that plan would not be of much service. We
+must attack this being, whatever it is, with which this Maw-Sayah is
+leagued. How I should like to hand him over as a victim instead of that
+trembling captive by the door. It shows to what extent this juggler has
+acquired power over this tribe, for I notice that his captive is
+unbound, and is certainly a much finer built man than the other."
+
+"It wants less than an hour to dusk, sahibs," said Hassan, who had
+listened carefully to our remarks; "if we were to station ourselves a
+little away from the hut we could see what took place, and if the Nat
+were mortal we might attack it."
+
+Denviers shrugged his shoulders at the Arab's supposition as he
+responded:--
+
+"There is little doubt, Hassan, that the Nat would smart if that keen
+blade of yours went a little too near it, but I think your plan is a
+good one, and we will adopt it, as it falls in with what has already
+been said." We gave a final look at the crafty face of the man who was
+still seated by the fire, and then brushing past the captive we made for
+the open village again.
+
+"I feel sorry for this Kachyen," said Denviers. "He will have a dreadful
+five minutes of it, I expect; but it is our only way of preventing, if
+possible, such an affair from occurring again." On leaving the hut we
+stationed ourselves almost opposite to it, and then began to keep watch.
+What we should see pass up the avenue we could only surmise, but our
+suppositions certainly did not lead us to imagine in the faintest degree
+the sight which before long was destined to completely startle us.
+
+
+III.
+
+The grey dusk was becoming night when among the dark stems of the trees
+we saw some black form move over the ground. We could scarcely
+distinguish it as it crawled over the bamboo logs and made a rasping
+noise as it clung to the ladder. The door of the hut yielded to it, and
+a minute after it again emerged and bore with it the terrified Kachyen.
+We crept after it as it dragged its captive down the avenue, striving
+our utmost to make out its shape. One thing we could tell, which was
+that the creature was not upright; but our movement behind it was
+apparently known, for it struggled to move quicker over the ground with
+its human burden.
+
+[Illustration: "IT AGAIN EMERGED."]
+
+"Shall I shoot it?" I whispered to Denviers, as my nerves seemed to be
+almost unstrung at the unknowableness of the creeping thing.
+
+"You would more likely kill the man," he responded. "Follow as
+noiselessly as you can--it will not let its prey escape, be sure of
+that. Once we track it to its haunt we will soon dispatch it, big and
+fierce as it seems."
+
+We drew nearer and nearer to it, until it had passed half-way down the
+avenue, then it seemed to become lost to our view, although we were, as
+we knew, close to it. I felt Denviers' hand upon my shoulder, and then
+he whispered:--
+
+"The Kachyen is being dragged up a tree just in front--look!" I could
+just distinguish something moving up the trunk, when suddenly the
+captive, who had hitherto been apparently paralyzed with terror, uttered
+a cry and then must have succeeded in disengaging himself from the
+dreadful thing that had held him, for the noise of someone falling to
+the ground was heard, and a minute after we distinguished the form of a
+man rushing headlong back to the village for safety.
+
+We did not anticipate such an event, and were contemplating a search for
+the captor of the Kachyen, when a cold sweat broke out upon me, for the
+clammy claws of the man-hunter had touched me! The sensation which
+seized me was only of short duration, for I felt myself released just as
+Denviers said:--
+
+"Harold, the Kachyen has fled, and his captor, determined to secure its
+prey, has betaken its crawling body after him. If only we had a light! I
+saw something like a black shadow moving onwards; get your pistol ready
+and follow." I just distinguished Denviers as he passed on in front of
+me, Hassan coming last. When we reached the hut of the Maw-Sayah we
+stopped at once, for, from the cry which came from it, we rightly
+surmised that the terrible seeker for human prey had made for this
+place, thinking, in its dull intelligence, that its captive had
+returned. We thrust ourselves into the hut, and saw by the red firelight
+a sanguinary contest between the Maw-Sayah and the black object which we
+had endeavoured to track. Thinking that the Kachyen was being destroyed,
+the juggler had not fastened his door, and the enraged man-eater had
+seized him as he rested on the ground, quite at its mercy!
+
+The Maw-Sayah was struggling with his bony hands to extricate himself
+from the clutches of a monstrous tree-spider! We had seen, on an island
+in the South Seas, several cocoa-nut crabs, and this reptile somewhat
+resembled them, but was even larger. Grasping the juggler with several
+of its long, furry-looking claws, it fixed its glaring red eyes in mad
+anger upon him as he grasped in each hand one of its front pair of
+legs, which were armed with strong, heavy-looking pincers. He besought
+us wildly to shoot, even if we killed him, held as he was by his
+relentless foe.
+
+"Harold," cried my companion, "keep clear, and look out for yourself
+when I fire at this reptile; most likely it will make for one of us." He
+drew right close to it, and thrusting the barrel of his pistol between
+its eyes touched the trigger. The explosion shook the hut, its effect
+upon the spider being to cause it to rush frantically about the floor,
+dragging the Maw-Sayah as if he were some slight burden scarcely
+observable.
+
+[Illustration: "A RELENTLESS FOE."]
+
+"You missed it!" I cried. "Look out, Hassan, guard the doorway!" The
+Arab stood, sword in hand, waiting for it to make for the entrance,
+while Denviers exclaimed:--
+
+"I shot it through the head!" and a minute afterwards the trueness of
+his aim was manifest, for the claws released, and the Maw-Sayah, wounded
+badly, but saved, stood free from the muscular twitchings of the dead
+spider.
+
+"You scoundrel!" said Denviers to him, "I have a good mind to serve you
+the same. You deserve to die as so many of these simple-minded,
+credulous Kachyens have done." I thought for one brief second that my
+companion was about to kill the juggler, for through all our adventures
+I had never seen him so thoroughly roused. I stood between them; then,
+when Denviers quickly recovered his self-command, I turned to the
+Maw-Sayah and asked:--
+
+"If we spare your life, will you promise to leave this village and never
+to return?" He turned his evil-looking but scared face towards us
+eagerly as he replied:--
+
+"I will do whatever you wish." Denviers motioned to him to rest upon the
+ground, which he did, then turning to me, said:--
+
+"It is pretty apparent what this juggler has done. The man who first
+reported the discovery of this Nat, as the foolish Kachyens call it,
+simply disturbed a monstrous spider which had lived in the trees which
+he felled--that accounts for his seeing it. Finding animal food scarce,
+the reptile ventured into this village and tried to get into one of the
+huts. Its exertions were rewarded by the Kachyen coming to the door,
+whom it accordingly seized. To continue its plan, which proved so
+successful, needed very little reasoning power on the part of such a
+cunning creature. No doubt this Maw-Sayah purposely left the door of his
+hut unfastened each seventh night, and the spider thus became accustomed
+to seek for its victim there, I daresay it came the other nights, but
+the juggler was then careful enough to keep his hut well fastened."
+
+"What do the sahibs propose to do?" interrupted Hassan. Denviers turned
+to him, as he responded:--
+
+"We will wait for daybreak; then, having dragged the dead spider out
+where the Kachyens may see that it is no longer able to harm them, we
+will take this Maw-Sayah down the mountain path away from the village as
+poor as he came."
+
+[Illustration: "YOU SCOUNDREL!"]
+
+"A good plan," I assented, and we followed it out, eventually leaving
+the juggler, and climbing once more into the howdah upon the elephant,
+which we found close to the spot where we had left it, secured from
+wandering far away by the rope which Hassan had used to hinder its
+movements.
+
+We entered Bhamo, and while we took a much-needed rest, our guide--as we
+afterwards learnt--searched for and found the fugitive Kachyen, who, on
+hearing that his safety was secured, hastily departed to the village to
+rejoice with the rest of his tribe that the so-called Nat would not do
+them any more injury.
+
+
+
+
+_From Behind the Speaker's Chair._
+
+III.
+
+(VIEWED BY HENRY W. LUCY.)
+
+[Illustration: "OBSTRUCTION."]
+
+It is thirteen years since a new Parliament last blithely started on its
+way with Mr. Gladstone sitting in the seat of the Premier. Since March,
+1880, a great deal has happened, not least in the change of
+circumstances under which the business of the House of Commons is
+conducted. The majority of the House of Commons may be Liberal or
+Conservative, according to a passing flood of conviction on the part of
+the constituencies. When presumptuous hands are stretched forth to touch
+the Ark of its procedure, its instincts are all Tory. For more than two
+hundred years preceding the advent of a Tory Ministry in 1886, this was
+so. Mr. Gladstone, driven to desperation in the second Session of the
+Parliament of 1880-5, endeavoured to reform procedure so that
+obstruction might be fought on even terms. He was met by such resolute
+and persistent opposition from the Conservative side that, even with an
+overwhelming majority at his back, he succeeded only in tinkering the
+pot. Oddly enough, it was left for the Conservatives when they came into
+office to revolutionize the system upon which, through the ages,
+Parliamentary business had been carried on.
+
+There was nothing in the reforms more startling to the old
+Parliamentarian than the proposal automatically to close debate at
+midnight. A dozen years ago members of the House of Commons assembled at
+four o'clock for prayers. Questions began at half-past four, and no one
+could say at what hour of the night or of the next morning the cry "Who
+goes home?" might echo through the lobby. In those days Mr. O'Donnell
+was master of the situation, and he had many imitators. A debate carried
+on through several nights might seem to be approaching a conclusion. The
+Leader of the Opposition, rising between eleven o'clock and midnight,
+spoke in a crowded House. The Premier, or his lieutenant, followed,
+assuming to wind up the debate. Members wearied of the long sitting were
+prepared to go forth to the division lobby; when from below the gangway
+on the left there uprose a familiar figure, and there was heard a
+well-known voice.
+
+[Illustration: F. H. O'DONNELL.]
+
+These usually belonged to Mr. O'Donnell bent upon vindicating the right
+of a private member to interpose when the constituted authorities of the
+House had agreed in the opinion that a debate had been continued long
+enough. A roar of execration from the fagged legislators greeted the
+intruder. He expected this, and was in no degree perturbed. In earliest
+practice he had a way of dropping his eye-glass as if startled by the
+uproar, and searched for it with puzzled, preoccupied expression,
+apparently debating with himself what this outburst might portend. He
+did not love the British House of Commons, and delighted in thwarting
+its purposes. But he knew what was due to it in the way of respect, and,
+however angry passions might rise, however turbulent the scene, he would
+never address it looking upon it with the naked eye. As his eye-glass
+was constantly tumbling out, and as search for it was preternaturally
+deliberate, it played an appreciable part in the prolongation of
+successive Sessions.
+
+[Illustration: "EYE-GLASS PLAY."]
+
+What has become of Frank Hugh now, I wonder? Vanishing from the House of
+Commons, he reappeared for a while on the scene, characteristically
+acting the part of the petrel that heralded the storm Mr. Pigott
+ineffectively tried to ride. It must be a consolation to Mr. O'Donnell,
+in his retirement, wherever it is passed, to reflect on the fact that it
+was he who directly brought about the appointment of the Parnell
+Commission, with all it effected. His action for libel brought against
+the _Times_ preluded and inevitably led up to the formal investigation
+of the famous Charges and Allegations.
+
+The member for Dungarvan was, in his day, the most thoroughly disliked
+man in the House of Commons, distaste for Mr. Parnell and for Mr. Biggar
+in his early prime being softened by contrast with his subtler
+provocation. An exceedingly clever debater, he was a phrase maker, some
+of whose epigrams Mr. Disraeli would not have disowned. He was a
+parliamentary type of ancient standing, and apparently ineradicable
+growth. In the present House of Commons fresh developments are presented
+by Mr. Seymour Keay and Mr. Morton. These are distinct varieties, but
+from the unmistakable root. Both are gifted with boundless volubility,
+unhampered by ordinary considerations of coherency and cogency. Neither
+is influenced by that sense of the dread majesty of the House of Commons
+which keeps some members dumb all through their parliamentary life, and
+to the last, as in the case of Mr. Bright, weighs upon even great
+orators. The difference between the older and the new development is
+that whilst over Mr. O'Donnell's intentional and deliberate vacuity of
+speech there gleamed frequent flashes of wit, Mr. Morton and Mr. Keay
+are only occasionally funny, and then the effect was undesigned.
+
+[Illustration: O'DONNELL'S LAST APPEARANCE.]
+
+[Illustration: MR. SEYMOUR KEAY.]
+
+Since we have these two gentlemen still with us, it would be rash to say
+that if Mr. O'Donnell could revisit the glimpses of Big Ben he would
+find his occupation gone. He would certainly discover that his
+opportunities had been limited, and would have to recommence practice
+under greatly altered conditions. One of the former member for
+Dungarvan's famous achievements took place in the infancy of the
+Parliament of 1880-5, and, apart from its dramatic interest, is valuable
+as illustrating the change effected in parliamentary procedure by the
+New Rules. On that particular June night the paper was loaded with
+questions in a fashion unfamiliar in the last Parliament, though there
+are not lacking signs of renewed activity since political parties
+changed places. Question No. 23 stood in the name of Mr. O'Donnell, and
+contained in his best literary style a serious indictment of M.
+Challemel-Lacour, just nominated by the French Government as their
+representative at the Court of St. James.
+
+[Illustration: MR. A. C. MORTON.]
+
+Sir Charles Dilke, then Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs, made
+categorical reply, directly traversing all the points in the indictment.
+When he resumed his seat Mr. O'Donnell rose in his usual deliberate
+manner, captured his eye-glass, and having fixed it to his satisfaction,
+remarked in his drawling voice that it was "perfectly impossible to
+accept the explanation of the Government." Being interrupted with cries
+of "Order! Order!" he quietly played his trump card: "If I am not
+allowed to explain," he said, "I will conclude with a motion."
+
+[Illustration: SIR CHARLES DILKE.]
+
+The House howled again, but it was a cry of despair. Mr. O'Donnell, they
+knew, had the whip hand. In those good old days he, or any other member
+desiring to obstruct ordinary procedure, might, in the middle of
+questions, start a debate on any subject under the sun. This and other
+outrages were doubtless recalled by the House of Commons when revising
+its Rules. It then ordered that no member might, during the progress of
+questions, interpose with a motion on which to found debate. If, in this
+current month of March, Mr. O'Donnell, being a member of the House of
+Commons, had wanted to attack M. Challemel-Lacour, he must needs have
+waited till the last question on the paper was disposed of, and could
+then have moved the adjournment only if his description of the
+question--as one of urgent public importance--was approved by the
+Speaker, and if, thereafter, forty members rose to support the request
+for a hearing.
+
+In June, 1880, all that was left for the crowded House to do was to roar
+with resentment. Mr. O'Donnell was used to this incentive, and had it
+been withheld would probably have shown signs of failing vigour. As it
+was, he produced a pocket-handkerchief, took down his eye-glass and
+carefully polished it, whilst members yelled and tossed about on their
+seats with impotent fury. Under the existing Rules this scene, if it had
+ever opened, would have been promptly blotted out. The closure would
+have been moved, probably a division taken, and the business of the
+evening would have gone forward. There was no closure in those days, and
+Mr. Gladstone, after hurried consultation with Sir Erskine May, hastily
+moved that Mr. O'Donnell be not heard.
+
+A shout of savage exultation rising from every bench, save those on
+which the Irish members sat, hailed a stroke that promised to deliver
+the House from the thraldom of Mr. O'Donnell at the very moment when its
+chains had taken a final twist. In ordinary circumstances this
+resolution would have played the part of the as yet unconsecrated
+closure. A division would have followed, the motion carried by an
+overwhelming majority, and Mr. O'Donnell would have been temporarily
+shut up.
+
+But those were not ordinary times. The Fourth Party was in the prime of
+its vigour. Lord Randolph Churchill's quick eye discovered an opening
+for irritating Mr. Gladstone and damaging the Government by making what
+should have been a business night one long turmoil. Mr. Parnell, whilst
+disclaiming any personal sympathy with Mr. O'Donnell, moved the
+adjournment of the debate, and poor, placid Sir Stafford Northcote,
+egged on by the young bloods below the gangway, raised various points of
+order. Finally, at eight o'clock, the House dividing on Mr. Parnell's
+amendment, Sir Stafford Northcote voted with the Irish members, leading
+a hundred men of the Party of Law and Order into the same lobby.
+
+[Illustration: STIRRING UP SIR STAFFORD.]
+
+Hour after hour the riot continued. At one time blameless Sir William
+Harcourt, then Home Secretary, appearing at the table, a Conservative
+member, amid tumultuous shouts, moved that he be not heard. When members
+grew tired of shouting at each other they divided on fresh motions for
+the adjournment, and it was not till one o'clock on the following
+morning that Mr. O'Donnell, grateful for a pleasant evening, was good
+enough to undertake that before he recurred to the question he would
+give due notice, so that the Speaker might exercise his discretion in
+revising its terms. At five minutes past one in the morning, after a
+wrangle full eight hours long, the Speaker, with a pretty assumption of
+nothing particular having happened, called on the next question on the
+paper, which was Number 24.
+
+All this might happen again on any night of this month save for the
+beneficent action of the New Rules a long-suffering Parliament was
+finally induced to adopt. On the threshold of a new Parliament it is
+useful to recall the scene as an assistance in calculating what may be
+accomplished by the Parliament elected in 1892, as compared with that
+which began its history in 1880. On the face of it, Parliament to-day
+has much less time at its disposal for the accomplishment of work than
+it had a dozen years ago. Then, the duration of a sitting was
+indefinite. The House might, as it did in February, 1881, meet at four
+o'clock on a Monday afternoon and sit continuously till Wednesday
+morning. Now, the Speaker takes the Chair at three o'clock; public
+business commences at half-past three; and at midnight, save in cases
+where the Standing Order has been formally suspended, the Speaker leaves
+the Chair, and the House adjourns, whoever may be on his feet.
+
+[Illustration: "DISGUST."]
+
+The influence of this automatic procedure is beneficially felt
+throughout the whole of debate. One wholesome influence works in the
+direction of using up the early hours of the sitting, an arrangement
+which carries comfort to countless printing offices and editorial
+sanctums. Some time before the New Rules came into operation, Mr.
+Gladstone discovered for himself the convenience and desirability of
+taking part in debate at the earliest possible hour of a sitting. His
+earlier associations drifted round a directly opposite course. In the
+good old days the champions of debate did not interpose till close upon
+midnight, when they had the advantage of audiences sustained and
+exhilarated by dinner. That was before the era of special wires to the
+provincial papers, early morning trams, and vastly increased circulation
+for the London journals. Mr. Gladstone discovered that he was more
+carefully reported and his observations more deliberately discussed if
+he spoke between five and seven o'clock in the evening than if,
+following his earlier habit, he addressed the House between eleven and
+one in the morning. He has, accordingly, for some years been accustomed,
+when he has an important speech to deliver, to interpose in debate
+immediately after questions.
+
+This habit has become general, even compulsory, with members who may,
+within certain limits, choose their own time for speaking. All the cream
+of debate is now skimmed before the dinner-hour. At the close of a
+pitched battle, the two Leaders of Party, as heretofore, wind up the
+debate. But their opportunity for orating is severely circumscribed. The
+audience in the House of Commons does not begin to reassemble after
+dinner till half-past ten. Rising at that hour, the Leader of the
+Opposition, if he fairly divides the available time with the right
+honourable gentleman opposite, must not speak more than three-quarters
+of an hour, and should not exceed forty minutes.
+
+This is a necessity desirable not less in the orator's interest than in
+that of the audience. Except for the exposition of an intricate measure,
+twenty minutes is ample time for any man to say what is useful for his
+fellow-men to hear. All Mr. Disraeli's best speeches were made within
+half an hour, and if he thought it necessary, from a sense of the
+importance of his position, to prolong them, his stock of good things
+was exhausted in twenty minutes, the rest being what Carlyle
+disrespectfully described as thrice-boiled cole-wort. Mr. Gladstone can
+go on indefinitely, and in very recent times has been known to hold his
+audience spell-bound for three hours. But even he has profited by the
+beneficent tyranny that now rules the limit of debate, and, rising with
+the knowledge that he has but forty minutes to speak in, has excelled
+himself. For less exuberant speakers not gifted with his genius, the new
+discipline is even more marked in its benefits.
+
+[Illustration: MR. KEIR HARDIE.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It is too soon to endeavour to estimate the general characteristics of
+the _personnel_ of the new Parliament. It will probably turn out to be
+very much of the same class as the innumerable army of its predecessors.
+When Mr. Keir Hardie came down on the opening day in a wagonette, with
+flags flying and accordions playing, it was cried aloud in some quarters
+that the end was at hand. This apprehension was strengthened when Mr.
+Hardie strolled about the House with a tweed travelling cap on his head,
+the Speaker at the time being in the chair. This, as Dr. Johnson
+explained, when the lady asked him why he had described the horse's
+pastern as its knee, was "ignorance, pure ignorance." Mr. Hardie is not
+a man of the quietest manners, as was testified to by the apparition in
+Palace Yard of the wagonette and its musical party; but in the
+much-talked-of incident of the cap he sinned inadvertently. Before the
+Speaker took the chair he had seen members walking about with their hats
+on. He had observed that even in his presence they remained seated with
+their heads covered. The shade of etiquette which approves this fashion
+whilst it sternly prohibits a member from keeping his hat on when in
+motion, even to the extent of leaning over to speak to a friend on the
+bench below him, was too fine to catch the eye of a new member.
+
+Mr. Keir Hardie has done much worse things than this in his public
+appearances during the recess, and since the Session opened there has
+not been lacking evidence of resolve to keep himself in the front of the
+stage where the gallery may see him. But this is no new thing, to be
+cited in proof of the deterioration of the composition and style of the
+House of Commons. It has been done repeatedly in various fashions within
+recent memory, and always with the same result. No man, not even Mr.
+Biggar--and he may be cited as the most ruthless experimenter--has
+successfully struggled against the subtle disciplinary influence of the
+House of Commons.
+
+From the first the member for Cavan set himself in deliberate fashion to
+outrage Parliamentary traditions and usages. He finished by becoming a
+punctilious practitioner of Parliamentary forms, a stickler for the
+minutest observation of order. Whilst Mr. Gladstone and other members of
+old standing were content to preface their speeches with the
+monosyllable "Sir," nothing less than "Mr. Speaker, sir," would satisfy
+Mr. Biggar. No one who has not heard the inflection of tone with which
+this was uttered, nor seen the oratorical sweep of the hand that
+launched it on its course, can realize how much of combined deference
+and authority the phrase is capable of. Mr. Biggar, having in his early
+Parliamentary days defied the Chair and affronted the sensibilities of
+the House, alike in the matter of dress and deportment, developed into a
+portly gentleman of almost smug appearance, a terror to new members. Woe
+to any who in his ignorance passed between the Chair and the member
+addressing it; who walked in from a division with his hat on; or who
+stood an inch or two within the Bar whilst debate was going forward. Mr.
+Biggar's strident cry of "Order! Order!" reverberated through the House.
+Others joined in the shout, and the abashed offender hastily withdrew
+into obscurity.
+
+[Illustration: THE LATE MR. BIGGAR.]
+
+It is the same with others of less strongly marked character. Vanity or
+garrulity may force a new member into a position of notoriety. He may,
+according to his measure of determination, try a fall again and again
+with the House, and may sometimes, as in the case of Mr. O'Donnell, seem
+to win. But in the end the House of Commons proves victorious. It is a
+sort of whetstone on which blades of various temperature operate. In
+time, they either forego the practice or wear themselves away. In either
+case the whetstone remains.
+
+This is a rule without exception, and is a reassuring reflection in view
+of the talk about the degeneracy of the House of Commons, and the
+decadence of its standard of manner. It would not be difficult to show
+that the House at present in Session will, from the point of view of
+manners, favourably compare with any that have gone before--though, to
+be just, the comparison should be sought with Parliaments elected under
+similar conditions, with the Liberals in office and the Conservatives in
+opposition. That is an arrangement always found to be more conducive to
+lively proceedings than when parties are disposed in the contrary order.
+The Parliament dissolved last year was decorously dull. Mr. Gladstone in
+opposition is not prone to show sport, and no encouragement was held out
+to enterprising groups below the gangway to bait the Government. It was
+very different in the Parliament of 1880-5, of which fact the
+Challemel-Lacour episode is an illustration, only a little more piquant
+in flavour than the average supply.
+
+There are already signs that the new Parliament will not lie under the
+charge of deplorable dulness brought against its predecessor. But these
+varying moods are due to waves of political passion, and do not affect
+the question whether the House of Commons as a body of English gentlemen
+met for the discharge of public business has or has not deteriorated. I
+have an engraving of a picture of the House of Commons in pre-Reform
+days. It was carefully drawn in the Session of 1842. A more respectable
+body of the gentlemen of England it would be difficult to gather
+together. With the possible exception of one or two political
+adventurers like the then member for Shrewsbury, there is probably not a
+man in the House who is not well born or at least rich. Mr. Keir Hardie
+would look strange indeed in these serried ranks of portly gentlemen
+with high coat collars, cravats up to their chin, short-bodied coats
+showing the waistcoat beneath, and the tightly trousered legs. Yet this
+House, and its equally prim successors, had its obstruction, its
+personal wrangles, and its occasional duel. Peel was attacked by
+Disraeli in a fashion and in language that would not be tolerated in the
+House of Commons now, even though the target were Mr. Gladstone.
+
+It is not necessary to go back as far as the days of Peel or
+Parliamentary Reform to sustain the bold assertion that, so far from
+having degenerated, the manners of the House of Commons have improved.
+In the Parliament elected in 1874 there sat on the Conservative side a
+gentleman named Smollet, who early distinguished himself by bringing
+Parliamentary debate down to the level of conversation in "Roderick
+Random." In those days Mr. Gladstone was down after the General
+Election, and Mr. Smollet, to the uproarious delight of gentlemen near
+him, savagely kicked him.
+
+[Illustration: "MOBBING HIM."]
+
+It was in the second year of this same Parliament, less than twenty
+years ago, that Mr. Gladstone, issuing from a division lobby, was
+suddenly pounced upon by some fifty or sixty Conservative members, and
+howled at for the space of several moments. It is, happily, possible for
+Mr. Gladstone to forget, or at least to forgive, personal attacks made
+upon him through his long career. In this very month of the new Session
+he may be nightly seen working in cordial fashion with ancient
+adversaries from Ireland, describing as "my honourable friends"
+gentlemen who, ten years ago and for some time subsequently, heaped on
+his head the coarsest vituperation permitted by practised manipulation
+of Parliamentary forms. But this scene in the division lobby on the 12th
+of April, 1875, is burned into his recollection. I have heard him,
+within the last few months, refer to it in those tones of profound
+indignation and with that flashing fire in his eyes only seen when he is
+deeply moved. He mentioned, what I think was not known, that Lord
+Hartington happened to be walking with him at the time. But there was no
+mistake for whom the angry cries were meant. Mr. Gladstone spoke with
+the profounder indignation because, as he said, he had on this occasion
+gone out to vote on behalf of a man whose character he detested, because
+he saw in the action taken against him an attack upon one of the
+privileges of Parliament.
+
+That scene was an outburst of political animosity; and the movements of
+political animosity, like the dicta of taste, are not to be disputed.
+But on the question of good manners, the only one here under
+consideration, it may be affirmed that the present House of Commons
+would be safe from lapse into such an exhibition. To this better state
+of things the operation of the New Rules has conspicuously contributed,
+and though, as we know, they have not operated to the absolute
+extinction of Parliamentary scenes, they have appreciably limited
+opportunity and incentive.
+
+
+
+
+_Portraits of Celebrities at Different Times of their Lives_.
+
+
+LORD BATTERSEA.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 14.
+
+_From a Daguerreotype._]
+
+BORN 1843.
+
+
+Lord Battersea, who was until recently known to the world as Mr. Cyril
+Flower, M.P., is a son of the late Mr. P. W. Flower, of Streatham, and
+was educated at Harrow and at Trinity College, Cambridge.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 21.
+
+_From a Photo, by Mayland, Cambridge._]
+
+He was called to the Bar at the age of twenty-seven, and became Liberal
+Member for Brecknock in 1880, and for the Luton Division of Bedfordshire
+in 1885 and 1886, in which later year he was one of Mr. Gladstone's
+"Whips." He married the daughter of the late Sir Anthony Rothschild, and
+both he and his wife are much interested in the welfare of the lower
+classes of London. Lord Battersea was unanimously reputed the handsomest
+man in the House of Commons, and is now, in every sense of the word, an
+ornament of the House of Lords.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 40.
+
+_From a Drawing._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photograph by Bassano, 35, Old Bond Street, W._.]
+
+
+W. Q. ORCHARDSON, R.A.
+
+BORN 1835.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 16.
+
+_From an Oil Sketch by himself._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 35.
+
+_From a Photograph by Walery, Marseilles._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 44.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+Mr. William Quiller Orchardson was born in Edinburgh, and at the age of
+fifteen entered the Trustees' Academy of that city, his first pictures
+being exhibited in the Royal Scottish Academy. At the age of
+twenty-eight he came to London, and the same year exhibited at the Royal
+Academy for the first time, his contributions being entitled, "An Old
+English Song" and "Portraits," the latter a life-size composition of
+three young ladies. In 1865 he painted "The Challenge," which won a
+prize of £100 given by Mr. Wallace, and one of the very few Medals
+awarded to English painters at the Paris Universal Exhibition. In 1866
+came "The Story of a Life"--an aged nun relating her experiences to a
+group of novices. Two years later, when he had only been four years in
+London, he was elected an A.R.A. Among his more recent pictures may be
+mentioned "Napoleon on Board the _Bellerophon_" (1880), "The Salon of
+Madame Recamier" (1885), "The Young Duke" (1889), and "St. Helena"
+(1892). Mr. Orchardson was elected an R.A. in 1877, and a D.C.L. of
+Oxford in 1890.
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+
+LADY HALLÉ.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 10.
+
+_From a Drawing._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 23.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+Lady Hallé, whose maiden name was Wilhelmine Néruda, was born at Brünn,
+where her father was organist of the cathedral. She was a pupil of
+Jansa, and made her first appearance at Vienna at the age of six, and in
+London at the age of nine. After this she returned to the Continent, and
+in 1864 she married Ludwig Norman, a Swedish musician. Since 1869 she
+has been in England every winter, playing especially at the concerts of
+Sir Charles Hallé, whom she married in 1888.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 35.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo by Burraud_.]
+
+
+SIR CHARLES HALLÉ.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 20.
+
+_From a Painting._]
+
+Sir Charles Hallé is a native of Germany, but at an early age he
+established himself in Paris, where he acquired a great reputation by
+his refined and classical rendering of the compositions of the great
+musicians; but the Revolution of 1843 drove him to England, where he has
+ever since resided. He soon established himself at Manchester, and as
+the founder of the annual series of orchestral and choral concerts there
+and in London, which have become, perhaps, the most important series in
+Europe, he has rendered the most valuable service to musical art.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 31.
+
+_From a Painting._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 45.
+
+_From a Photo, by H. Hering, Regent Street, W._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo. by Mayall & Co., 164, New Bond Street, W._]
+
+
+DR. HERMANN ADLER,
+
+CHIEF RABBI.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 24.
+
+_From a Photograph by McLean & Haes, Haymarket._]
+
+Born 1839.
+
+Dr. Adler, son of Dr. Nathan Marcus Adler, was born in Hanover, and came
+to London with his father at the age of six. He studied at University
+College, took his B. A. degree at the University of London at twenty,
+and that of Ph. D., at Leipzig, at twenty-two. In the following year he
+was ordained Rabbi by the famous Rapoport, Chief Rabbi of Prague, and
+became in succession Principal of the Jews' College in London and Chief
+Minister of the Bayswater Synagogue. In 1890 his father, the Chief
+Rabbi, died, and Dr. Adler was elected in his place. Dr. Adler is well
+known not only by his powerful and scholarly writings, but by his work
+among the poorer Jews of London.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 37.
+
+_From a Photograph by J. R. Sawyer, Norwich._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 44.
+
+_From a Photograph by Fradella, 216, Regent Street, W._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photograph by The Photographic Co._]
+
+
+SIR ARCHIBALD ALISON, BART., K.C.B.
+
+Born 1826.
+
+General Alison, son of Sir Archibald Alison, the first Baronet, who was
+the well-known author of "The History of Europe," was born at Edinburgh,
+and entered the Army at the age of twenty. He served in the Crimea, at
+the siege and fall of Sebastopol, at which date our second portrait
+represents him. During the Indian Mutiny he lost an arm at the relief of
+Lucknow. In 1882 he commanded the 1st Brigade, 2nd Division, during the
+expedition to Egypt, and at the decisive battle of Tel-el-Kebir he led
+the Highland Brigade which fought so gallantly on that memorable
+occasion, and after Arabi's surrender he was left in Egypt with the
+command of the British army of 12,000 men to restore order and protect
+the Khedive. Sir Archibald was included in the thanks of Parliament for
+his energy and gallantry, and was promoted to the rank of
+Lieutenant-General; he received his appointment as General in 1889. In
+1869 Sir Archibald Alison published an able treatise, "On Army
+Organization."
+
+[Illustration: AGE 3.
+
+_From a Miniature._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 31.
+
+_From a Daguerreotype by Werge, Glasgow._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 47.
+
+_From a Photograph by Jacklett, Aldershot._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo, by Barraud._]
+
+
+MADAME JANE HADING.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 3.
+
+_From a Photo. by Chalot et Cie., Paris._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 5.
+
+_From a Photo. by Chalot et Cie., Paris._]
+
+Madame Jane Hading, the well-known French actress, was born at
+Marseilles, in 1863, where her father was popular as a leading actor,
+with whom she appeared when only three years of age as little _Blanche
+de Caylus_ in "Le Bossu." At the age of thirteen she began work in
+earnest, having won "le prix de solfège" at the Marseille Conservatoire,
+and her talent having come to the ears of Mr. Plunkett, the director of
+the Palais Royal, he engaged her for the Palais Royal in Paris, where
+she created the part of _La Chaste Suzanne_, by Paul Ferrier. Giving up
+comic opera for comedy, Jane Hading went to the Gymnase, where she
+created the part of _Claire de Beaulieu_ in "Le Maître de Forges."
+London had the opportunity of seeing her in that and "Prince Zilah," by
+Jules Claretie, later on, and fully indorsed the Parisian verdict. These
+conspicuous successes were followed by others almost as notable, and her
+subsequent tour in America won her golden opinions, and was so
+successful that it was extended some months. Her latest Parisian success
+was "Le Prince d'Aurec," which added greatly to her laurels, putting her
+in the very front rank of great artists.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 15.
+
+_From a Photo. by Fabre, Marseilles._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo, by Reutlinger, Paris._]
+
+
+
+
+_The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_.
+
+XVI.--THE ADVENTURE OF THE STOCKBROKER'S CLERK.
+
+BY A. CONAN DOYLE.
+
+
+Shortly after my marriage I had bought a connection in the Paddington
+district. Old Mr. Farquhar, from whom I purchased it, had at one time an
+excellent general practice, but his age, and an affliction of the nature
+of St. Vitus' dance, from which he suffered, had very much thinned it.
+The public, not unnaturally, goes upon the principle that he who would
+heal others must himself be whole, and looks askance at the curative
+powers of the man whose own case is beyond the reach of his drugs. Thus,
+as my predecessor weakened, his practice declined, until when I
+purchased it from him it had sunk from twelve hundred to little more
+than three hundred a year. I had confidence, however, in my own youth
+and energy, and was convinced that in a very few years the concern would
+be as flourishing as ever.
+
+For three months after taking over the practice I was kept very closely
+at work, and saw little of my friend Sherlock Holmes, for I was too busy
+to visit Baker Street, and he seldom went anywhere himself save upon
+professional business. I was surprised, therefore, when one morning in
+June, as I sat reading the _British Medical Journal_ after breakfast, I
+heard a ring at the bell followed by the high, somewhat strident, tones
+of my old companion's voice.
+
+"Ah, my dear Watson," said he, striding into the room. "I am very
+delighted to see you. I trust that Mrs. Watson has entirely recovered
+from all the little excitements connected with our adventure of the
+'Sign of Four.'"
+
+"Thank you, we are both very well," said I, shaking him warmly by the
+hand.
+
+"And I hope also," he continued, sitting down in the rocking-chair,
+"that the cares of medical practice have not entirely obliterated the
+interest which you used to take in our little deductive problems."
+
+"On the contrary," I answered; "it was only last night that I was
+looking over my old notes and classifying some of our past results."
+
+"I trust that you don't consider your collection closed?"
+
+"Not at all. I should wish nothing better than to have some more of such
+experiences."
+
+"To-day, for example?"
+
+"Yes; to-day, if you like."
+
+"And as far off as Birmingham?"
+
+"Certainly, if you wish it."
+
+"And the practice?"
+
+"I do my neighbour's when he goes. He is always ready to work off the
+debt."
+
+[Illustration: "'NOTHING COULD BE BETTER,' SAID HOLMES."]
+
+"Ha! Nothing could be better!" said Holmes, leaning back in his chair
+and looking keenly at me from under his half-closed lids. "I perceive
+that you have been unwell lately. Summer colds are always a little
+trying."
+
+"I was confined to the house by a severe chill for three days last week.
+I thought, however, that I had cast off every trace of it."
+
+"So you have. You look remarkably robust."
+
+"How, then, did you know of it?"
+
+"My dear fellow, you know my methods."
+
+"You deduced it, then?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"And from what?"
+
+"From your slippers."
+
+I glanced down at the new patent leathers which I was wearing. "How on
+earth----?" I began, but Holmes answered my question before it was
+asked.
+
+"Your slippers are new," he said. "You could not have had them more than
+a few weeks. The soles which you are at this moment presenting to me are
+slightly scorched. For a moment I thought they might have got wet and
+been burned in the drying. But near the instep there is a small circular
+wafer of paper with the shopman's hieroglyphics upon it. Damp would of
+course have removed this. You had then been sitting with your feet
+outstretched to the fire, which a man would hardly do even in so wet a
+June as this if he were in his full health."
+
+Like all Holmes's reasoning the thing seemed simplicity itself when it
+was once explained. He read the thought upon my features, and his smile
+had a tinge of bitterness.
+
+"I am afraid that I rather give myself away when I explain," said he.
+"Results without causes are much more impressive. You are ready to come
+to Birmingham, then?"
+
+"Certainly. What is the case?"
+
+"You shall hear it all in the train. My client is outside in a
+four-wheeler. Can you come at once?"
+
+"In an instant." I scribbled a note to my neighbour, rushed upstairs to
+explain the matter to my wife, and joined Holmes upon the doorstep.
+
+"Your neighbour is a doctor?" said he, nodding at the brass plate.
+
+"Yes. He bought a practice as I did."
+
+"An old-established one?"
+
+"Just the same as mine. Both have been ever since the houses were
+built."
+
+"Ah, then you got hold of the best of the two."
+
+"I think I did. But how do you know?"
+
+"By the steps, my boy. Yours are worn three inches deeper than his. But
+this gentleman in the cab is my client, Mr. Hall Pycroft. Allow me to
+introduce you to him. Whip your horse up, cabby, for we have only just
+time to catch our train."
+
+The man whom I found myself facing was a well-built, fresh-complexioned
+young fellow with a frank, honest face and a slight, crisp, yellow
+moustache. He wore a very shiny top-hat and a neat suit of sober black,
+which made him look what he was--a smart young City man, of the class
+who have been labelled Cockneys, but who give us our crack Volunteer
+regiments, and who turn out more fine athletes and sportsmen than any
+body of men in these islands. His round, ruddy face was naturally full
+of cheeriness, but the corners of his mouth seemed to me to be pulled
+down in a half-comical distress. It was not, however, until we were all
+in a first-class carriage and well started upon our journey to
+Birmingham, that I was able to learn what the trouble was which had
+driven him to Sherlock Holmes.
+
+"We have a clear run here of seventy minutes," Holmes remarked. "I want
+you, Mr. Hall Pycroft, to tell my friend your very interesting
+experience exactly as you have told it to me, or with more detail if
+possible. It will be of use to me to hear the succession of events
+again. It is a case, Watson, which may prove to have something in it, or
+may prove to have nothing, but which at least presents those unusual and
+_outré_ features which are as dear to you as they are to me. Now, Mr.
+Pycroft, I shall not interrupt you again."
+
+Our young companion looked at me with a twinkle in his eye.
+
+"The worst of the story is," said he, "that I show myself up as such a
+confounded fool. Of course, it may work out all right, and I don't see
+that I could have done otherwise; but if I have lost my crib and get
+nothing in exchange, I shall feel what a soft Johnny I have been. I'm
+not very good at telling a story, Dr. Watson, but it is like this with
+me.
+
+"I used to have a billet at Coxon and Woodhouse, of Drapers' Gardens,
+but they were let in early in the spring through the Venezuelan loan, as
+no doubt you remember, and came a nasty cropper. I had been with them
+five years, and old Coxon gave me a ripping good testimonial when the
+smash came; but, of course, we clerks were all turned adrift, the
+twenty-seven of us. I tried here and tried there, but there were lots of
+other chaps on the same lay as myself, and it was a perfect frost for a
+long time. I had been taking three pounds a week at Coxon's, and I had
+saved about seventy of them, but I soon worked my way through that and
+out at the other end. I was fairly at the end of my tether at last, and
+could hardly find the stamps to answer the advertisements or the
+envelopes to stick them to. I had worn out my boots padding up office
+stairs, and I seemed just as far from getting a billet as ever.
+
+"At last I saw a vacancy at Mawson and Williams', the great stockbroking
+firm in Lombard Street. I daresay E. C. is not much in your line, but I
+can tell you that this is about the richest house in London. The
+advertisement was to be answered by letter only. I sent in my
+testimonial and application, but without the least hope of getting it.
+Back came an answer by return saying that if I would appear next Monday
+I might take over my new duties at once, provided that my appearance was
+satisfactory. No one knows how these things are worked. Some people say
+the manager just plunges his hand into the heap and takes the first that
+comes. Anyhow, it was my innings that time, and I don't ever wish to
+feel better pleased. The screw was a pound a week rise, and the duties
+just about the same as at Coxon's.
+
+"And now I come to the queer part of the business. I was in diggings out
+Hampstead way--17, Potter's Terrace, was the address. Well, I was
+sitting doing a smoke that very evening after I had been promised the
+appointment, when up came my landlady with a card which had 'Arthur
+Pinner, financial agent,' printed upon it. I had never heard the name
+before, and could not imagine what he wanted with me, but of course I
+asked her to show him up. In he walked--a middle-sized, dark-haired,
+dark-eyed, black-bearded man, with a touch of the sheeny about his nose.
+He had a brisk kind of way with him and spoke sharply, like a man that
+knew the value of time.
+
+[Illustration: "'MR. HALL PYCROFT, I BELIEVE?' SAID HE."]
+
+"'Mr. Hall Pycroft, I believe?' said he.
+
+"'Yes, sir,' I answered, and pushed a chair towards him.
+
+"'Lately engaged at Coxon and Woodhouse's?'
+
+"'Yes, sir.'
+
+"And now on the staff of Mawson's?'
+
+"'Quite so.'
+
+"'Well,' said he. 'The fact is that I have heard some really
+extraordinary stories about your financial ability. You remember Parker
+who used to be Coxon's manager? He can never say enough about it.'
+
+"Of course I was pleased to hear this. I had always been pretty smart in
+the office, but I had never dreamed that I was talked about in the City
+in this fashion.
+
+"'You have a good memory?' said he.
+
+"'Pretty fair,' I answered, modestly.
+
+"'Have you kept in touch with the market while you have been out of
+work?' he asked.
+
+"'Yes; I read the Stock Exchange List every morning.'
+
+"'Now, that shows real application!' he cried. 'That is the way to
+prosper! You won't mind my testing you, will you? Let me see! How are
+Ayrshires?'
+
+"'One hundred and six and a quarter to one hundred and five and
+seven-eighths,' I answered.
+
+"'And New Zealand Consolidated?'
+
+"'A hundred and four.'
+
+"'And British Broken Hills?'
+
+"'Seven to seven and six.'
+
+"'Wonderful!' he cried, with his hands up. 'This quite fits in with all
+that I had heard. My boy, my boy, you are very much too good to be a
+clerk at Mawson's!'
+
+"This outburst rather astonished me, as you can think. 'Well,' said I,
+'other people don't think quite so much of me as you seem to do, Mr.
+Pinner. I had a hard enough fight to get this berth, and I am very glad
+to have it.'
+
+"'Pooh, man, you should soar above it. You are not in your true sphere.
+Now I'll tell you how it stands with me. What I have to offer is little
+enough when measured by your ability, but when compared with Mawson's it
+is light to dark. Let me see! When do you go to Mawson's?'
+
+"'On Monday.'
+
+"'Ha! ha! I think I would risk a little sporting flutter that you don't
+go there at all.'
+
+"'Not go to Mawson's?'
+
+"'No, sir. By that day you will be the business manager of the
+Franco-Midland Hardware Company, Limited, with one hundred and
+thirty-four branches in the towns and villages of France, not counting
+one in Brussels and one in San Remo.'
+
+"This took my breath away. 'I never heard of it,' said I.
+
+"'Very likely not. It has been kept very quiet, for the capital was all
+privately subscribed, and it is too good a thing to let the public into.
+My brother, Harry Pinner, is promoter, and joins the board after
+allotment as managing director. He knew that I was in the swim down
+here, and he asked me to pick up a good man cheap--a young, pushing man
+with plenty of snap about him. Parker spoke of you, and that brought me
+here to-night. We can only offer you a beggarly five hundred to start
+with----'
+
+"'Five hundred a year!' I shouted.
+
+"'Only that at the beginning, but you are to have an over-riding
+commission of 1 per cent, on all business done by your agents, and you
+may take my word for it that this will come to more than your salary.'
+
+"'But I know nothing about hardware.'
+
+"'Tut, my boy, you know about figures.'
+
+"My head buzzed, and I could hardly sit still in the chair. But suddenly
+a little chill of doubt came over me.
+
+"'I must be frank with you,' said I. 'Mawson only gives me two hundred,
+but Mawson is safe. Now, really, I know so little about your company
+that----'
+
+"'Ah, smart, smart!' he cried, in a kind of ecstasy of delight. 'You are
+the very man for us! You are not to be talked over, and quite right too.
+Now, here's a note for a hundred pounds; and if you think that we can do
+business you may just slip it into your pocket as an advance upon your
+salary.'
+
+"'That is very handsome,' said I. 'When should I take over my new
+duties?'
+
+"'Be in Birmingham to-morrow at one,' said he. 'I have a note in my
+pocket here which you will take to my brother. You will find him at
+126B, Corporation Street, where the temporary offices of the company are
+situated. Of course he must confirm your engagement, but between
+ourselves it will be all right.'
+
+"'Really, I hardly know how to express my gratitude, Mr. Pinner,' said
+I.
+
+"'Not at all, my boy. You have only got your deserts. There are one or
+two small things--mere formalities--which I must arrange with you. You
+have a bit of paper beside you there. Kindly write upon it, "I am
+perfectly willing to act as business manager to the Franco-Midland
+Hardware Company, Limited, at a minimum salary of £500."'
+
+"I did as he asked, and he put the paper in his pocket.
+
+"'There is one other detail,' said he. 'What do you intend to do about
+Mawson's?'
+
+"I had forgotten all about Mawson's in my joy.
+
+"'I'll write and resign,' said I.
+
+"'Precisely what I don't want you to do. I had a row over you with
+Mawson's manager. I had gone up to ask him about you, and he was very
+offensive--accused me of coaxing you away from the service of the firm,
+and that sort of thing. At last I fairly lost my temper. "If you want
+good men you should pay them a good price," said I. "He would rather
+have our small price than your big one," said he. "I'll lay you a
+fiver," said I, "that when he has my offer you will never so much as
+hear from him again." "Done!" said he. "We picked him out of the gutter,
+and he won't leave us so easily." Those were his very words.'
+
+"'The impudent scoundrel!' I cried. 'I've never so much as seen him in
+my life. Why should I consider him in any way? I shall certainly not
+write if you would rather that I didn't.'
+
+"'Good! That's a promise!' said he, rising from his chair. 'Well, I am
+delighted to have got so good a man for my brother. Here is your
+advance of a hundred pounds, and here is the letter. Make a note of the
+address, 126B, Corporation Street, and remember that one o'clock
+to-morrow is your appointment. Good-night, and may you have all the
+fortune that you deserve.'
+
+"That's just about all that passed between us as near as I can remember
+it. You can imagine, Dr. Watson, how pleased I was at such an
+extraordinary bit of good fortune. I sat up half the night hugging
+myself over it, and next day I was off to Birmingham in a train that
+would take me in plenty of time for my appointment. I took my things to
+an hotel in New Street, and then I made my way to the address which had
+been given me.
+
+"It was a quarter of an hour before my time, but I thought that would
+make no difference. 126B was a passage between two large shops which led
+to a winding stone stair, from which there were many flats, let as
+offices to companies or professional men. The names of the occupants
+were painted up at the bottom on the wall, but there was no such name as
+the Franco-Midland Hardware Company, Limited. I stood for a few minutes
+with my heart in my boots, wondering whether the whole thing was an
+elaborate hoax or not, when up came a man and addressed me. He was very
+like the chap that I had seen the night before, the same figure and
+voice, but he was clean shaven and his hair was lighter.
+
+[Illustration: "UP CAME A MAN AND ADDRESSED ME."]
+
+"'Are you Mr. Hall Pycroft?' he asked.
+
+"'Yes,' said I.
+
+"'Ah! I was expecting you, but you are a trifle before your time. I had
+a note from my brother this morning, in which he sang your praises very
+loudly.'
+
+"'I was just looking for the offices when you came.'
+
+"'We have not got our name up yet, for we only secured these temporary
+premises last week. Come up with me and we will talk the matter over.'
+
+"I followed him to the top of a very lofty stair, and there right under
+the slates were a couple of empty and dusty little rooms, uncarpeted and
+uncurtained, into which he led me. I had thought of a great office with
+shining tables and rows of clerks such as I was used to, and I daresay I
+stared rather straight at the two deal chairs and one little table,
+which, with a ledger and a waste-paper basket, made up the whole
+furniture.
+
+"'Don't be disheartened, Mr. Pycroft,' said my new acquaintance, seeing
+the length of my face. 'Rome was not built in a day, and we have lots of
+money at our backs, though we don't cut much dash yet in offices. Pray
+sit down and let me have your letter.'
+
+"I gave it to him, and he read it over very carefully.
+
+"'You seem to have made a vast impression upon my brother, Arthur,' said
+he, 'and I know that he is a pretty shrewd judge. He swears by London,
+you know, and I by Birmingham, but this time I shall follow his advice.
+Pray consider yourself definitely engaged.'
+
+"'What are my duties?' I asked.
+
+"'You will eventually manage the great depôt in Paris, which will pour a
+flood of English crockery into the shops of one hundred and thirty-four
+agents in France. The purchase will be completed in a week, and
+meanwhile you will remain in Birmingham and make yourself useful.'
+
+"'How?'
+
+"For answer he took a big red book out of a drawer. 'This is a directory
+of Paris,' said he, 'with the trades after the names of the people. I
+want you to take it home with you, and to mark off all the hardware
+sellers with their addresses. It would be of the greatest use to me to
+have them.'
+
+"'Surely, there are classified lists?' I suggested.
+
+"'Not reliable ones. Their system is different to ours. Stick at it and
+let me have the lists by Monday, at twelve. Good-day, Mr. Pycroft; if
+you continue to show zeal and intelligence, you will find the company a
+good master.'
+
+"I went back to the hotel with the big book under my arm, and with very
+conflicting feelings in my breast. On the one hand I was definitely
+engaged, and had a hundred pounds in my pocket. On the other, the look
+of the offices, the absence of name on the wall, and other of the points
+which would strike a business man had left a bad impression as to the
+position of my employers. However, come what might, I had my money, so I
+settled down to my task. All Sunday I was kept hard at work, and yet by
+Monday I had only got as far as H. I went round to my employer, found
+him in the same dismantled kind of room, and was told to keep at it
+until Wednesday, and then come again. On Wednesday it was still
+unfinished, so I hammered away until Friday--that is, yesterday. Then I
+brought it round to Mr. Harry Pinner.
+
+"'Thank you very much,' said he. 'I fear that I underrated the
+difficulty of the task. This list will be of very material assistance to
+me.'
+
+"'It took some time,' said I.
+
+"'And now,' said he, 'I want you to make a list of the furniture shops,
+for they all sell crockery.'
+
+"'Very good.'
+
+"'And you can come up to-morrow evening at seven, and let me know how
+you are getting on. Don't overwork yourself. A couple of hours at Day's
+Music-Hall in the evening would do you no harm after your labours.' He
+laughed as he spoke, and I saw with a thrill that his second tooth upon
+the left-hand side had been very badly stuffed with gold."
+
+Sherlock Holmes rubbed his hands with delight, and I stared in
+astonishment at our client.
+
+"You may well look surprised, Dr. Watson, but it is this way," said he.
+"When I was speaking to the other chap in London at the time that he
+laughed at my not going to Mawson's, I happened to notice that his tooth
+was stuffed in this very identical fashion. The glint of the gold in
+each case caught my eye, you see. When I put that with the voice and
+figure being the same, and only those things altered which might be
+changed by a razor or a wig, I could not doubt that it was the same man.
+Of course, you expect two brothers to be alike, but not that they should
+have the same tooth stuffed in the same way. He bowed me out and I found
+myself in the street, hardly knowing whether I was on my head or my
+heels. Back I went to my hotel, put my head in a basin of cold water,
+and tried to think it out. Why had he sent me from London to Birmingham;
+why had he got there before me; and why had he written a letter from
+himself to himself? It was altogether too much for me, and I could make
+no sense of it. And then suddenly it struck me that what was dark to me
+might be very light to Mr. Sherlock Holmes. I had just time to get up to
+town by the night train, to see him this morning, and to bring you both
+back with me to Birmingham."
+
+There was a pause after the stockbroker's clerk had concluded his
+surprising experience. Then Sherlock Holmes cocked his eye at me,
+leaning back on the cushions with a pleased and yet critical face, like
+a connoisseur who had just taken his first sip of a comet vintage.
+
+"Rather fine, Watson, is it not?" said he. "There are points in it which
+please me. I think you will agree with me that an interview with Mr.
+Arthur Harry Pinner in the temporary offices of the Franco-Midland
+Hardware Company, Limited, would be a rather interesting experience for
+both of us."
+
+"But how can we do it?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, easily enough," said Hall Pycroft, cheerily. "You are two friends
+of mine who are in want of a billet, and what could be more natural than
+that I should bring you both round to the managing director?"
+
+"Quite so! Of course!" said Holmes. "I should like to have a look at the
+gentleman and see if I can make anything of his little game. What
+qualities have you, my friend, which would make your services so
+valuable? or is it possible that----" he began biting his nails and
+staring blankly out of the window, and we hardly drew another word from
+him until we were in New Street.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At seven o'clock that evening we were walking, the three of us, down
+Corporation Street to the company's offices.
+
+"It is of no use our being at all before our time," said our client. "He
+only comes there to see me apparently, for the place is deserted up to
+the very hour he names."
+
+"That is suggestive," remarked Holmes.
+
+"By Jove, I told you so!" cried the clerk. "That's he walking ahead of
+us there."
+
+He pointed to a smallish, blonde, well-dressed man, who was bustling
+along the other side of the road. As we watched him he looked across at
+a boy who was bawling out the latest edition of the evening paper, and,
+running over among the cabs and 'buses, he bought one from him. Then
+clutching it in his hand he vanished through a doorway.
+
+"There he goes!" cried Hall Pycroft. "Those are the company's offices
+into which he has gone. Come with me and I'll fix it up as easily as
+possible."
+
+Following his lead we ascended five stories, until we found ourselves
+outside a half-opened door, at which our client tapped. A voice within
+bade us "Come in," and we entered a bare, unfurnished room, such as Hall
+Pycroft had described. At the single table sat the man whom we had seen
+in the street, with his evening paper spread out in front of him, and as
+he looked up at us it seemed to me that I had never looked upon a face
+which bore such marks of grief, and of something beyond grief--of a
+horror such as comes to few men in a lifetime. His brow glistened with
+perspiration, his cheeks were of the dull dead white of a fish's belly,
+and his eyes were wild and staring. He looked at his clerk as though he
+failed to recognise him, and I could see, by the astonishment depicted
+upon our conductor's face, that this was by no means the usual
+appearance of his employer.
+
+[Illustration: "HE LOOKED UP AT US."]
+
+"You look ill, Mr. Pinner," he exclaimed.
+
+"Yes, I am not very well," answered the other, making obvious efforts to
+pull himself together, and licking his dry lips before he spoke. "Who
+are these gentlemen whom you have brought with you?"
+
+"One is Mr. Harris, of Bermondsey, and the other is Mr. Price, of this
+town," said our clerk, glibly. "They are friends of mine, and gentlemen
+of experience, but they have been out of a place for some little time,
+and they hoped that perhaps you might find an opening for them in the
+company's employment."
+
+"Very possibly! Very possibly!" cried Mr. Pinner, with a ghastly smile.
+"Yes, I have no doubt that we shall be able to do something for you.
+What is your particular line, Mr. Harris?"
+
+"I am an accountant," said Holmes.
+
+"Ah, yes, we shall want something of the sort. And you, Mr. Price?"
+
+"A clerk," said I.
+
+"I have every hope that the company may accommodate you. I will let you
+know about it as soon as we come to any conclusion. And now I beg that
+you will go. For God's sake, leave me to myself!"
+
+These last words were shot out of him, as though the constraint which he
+was evidently setting upon himself had suddenly and utterly burst
+asunder. Holmes and I glanced at each other, and Hall Pycroft took a
+step towards the table.
+
+"You forget, Mr. Pinner, that I am here by appointment to receive some
+directions from you," said he.
+
+"Certainly, Mr. Pycroft, certainly," the other answered in a calmer
+tone. "You may wait here a moment, and there is no reason why your
+friends should not wait with you. I will be entirely at your service in
+three minutes, if I might trespass upon your patience so far." He rose
+with a very courteous air, and bowing to us he passed out through a door
+at the further end of the room, which he closed behind him.
+
+"What now?" whispered Holmes. "Is he giving us the slip?"
+
+"Impossible," answered Pycroft.
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"That door leads into an inner room."
+
+"There is no exit?"
+
+"None."
+
+"Is it furnished?"
+
+"It was empty yesterday."
+
+"Then what on earth can he be doing? There is something which I don't
+understand in this matter. If ever a man was three parts mad with
+terror, that man's name is Pinner. What can have put the shivers on
+him?"
+
+"He suspects that we are detectives," I suggested.
+
+"That's it," said Pycroft.
+
+Holmes shook his head. "He did not turn pale. He _was_ pale when we
+entered the room," said he. "It is just possible that----"
+
+His words were interrupted by a sharp rat-tat from the direction of the
+inner door.
+
+"What the deuce is he knocking at his own door for?" cried the clerk.
+
+Again and much louder came the rat-tat-tat. We all gazed expectantly at
+the closed door. Glancing at Holmes I saw his face turn rigid, and he
+leaned forward in intense excitement. Then suddenly came a low gurgling,
+gargling sound and a brisk drumming upon woodwork. Holmes sprang
+frantically across the room and pushed at the door. It was fastened on
+the inner side. Following his example, we threw ourselves upon it with
+all our weight. One hinge snapped, then the other, and down came the
+door with a crash. Rushing over it we found ourselves in the inner room.
+
+[Illustration: "WE FOUND OURSELVES IN THE INNER ROOM."]
+
+It was empty.
+
+But it was only for a moment that we were at fault. At one corner, the
+corner nearest the room which we had left, there was a second door.
+Holmes sprang to it and pulled it open. A coat and waistcoat were lying
+on the floor, and from a hook behind the door, with his own braces round
+his neck, was hanging the managing director of the Franco-Midland
+Hardware Company. His knees were drawn up, his head hung at a dreadful
+angle to his body, and the clatter of his heels against the door made
+the noise which had broken in upon our conversation. In an instant I had
+caught him round the waist and held him up, while Holmes and Pycroft
+untied the elastic bands which had disappeared between the livid creases
+of skin. Then we carried him into the other room, where he lay with a
+clay-coloured face, puffing his purple lips in and out with every
+breath--a dreadful wreck of all that he had been but five minutes
+before.
+
+"What do you think of him, Watson?" asked Holmes.
+
+I stooped over him and examined him.
+
+His pulse was feeble and intermittent, but his breathing grew longer,
+and there was a little shivering of his eyelids which showed a thin
+white slit of ball beneath.
+
+"It has been touch and go with him," said I, "but he'll live now. Just
+open that window and hand me the water carafe." I undid his collar,
+poured the cold water over his face, and raised and sank his arms until
+he drew a long natural breath.
+
+"It's only a question of time now," said I, as I turned away from him.
+
+Holmes stood by the table with his hands deep in his trousers pockets
+and his chin upon his breast.
+
+"I suppose we ought to call the police in now," said he; "and yet I
+confess that I like to give them a complete case when they come."
+
+"It's a blessed mystery to me," cried Pycroft, scratching his head.
+"Whatever they wanted to bring me all the way up here for, and then----"
+
+"Pooh! All that is clear enough," said Holmes, impatiently. "It is this
+last sudden move."
+
+"You understand the rest, then?"
+
+"I think that it is fairly obvious. What do you say, Watson?"
+
+I shrugged my shoulders.
+
+"I must confess that I am out of my depths," said I.
+
+"Oh, surely, if you consider the events at first they can only point to
+one conclusion."
+
+"What do you make of them?"
+
+"Well, the whole thing hinges upon two points. The first is the making
+of Pycroft write a declaration by which he entered the service of this
+preposterous company. Do you not see how very suggestive that is?"
+
+"I am afraid I miss the point."
+
+"Well, why did they want him to do it? Not as a business matter, for
+these arrangements are usually verbal, and there was no earthly business
+reason why this should be an exception. Don't you see, my young friend,
+that they were very anxious to obtain a specimen of your handwriting,
+and had no other way of doing it?"
+
+"And why?"
+
+"Quite so. Why? When we answer that, we have made some progress with our
+little problem. Why? There can be only one adequate reason. Someone
+wanted to learn to imitate your writing, and had to procure a specimen
+of it first. And now if we pass on to the second point, we find that
+each throws light upon the other. That point is the request made by
+Pinner that you should not resign your place, but should leave the
+manager of this important business in the full expectation that a Mr.
+Hall Pycroft, whom he had never seen, was about to enter the office upon
+the Monday morning."
+
+"My God!" cried our client, "what a blind beetle I have been!"
+
+"Now you see the point about the handwriting. Suppose that someone
+turned up in your place who wrote a completely different hand from that
+in which you had applied for the vacancy, of course the game would have
+been up. But in the interval the rogue learnt to imitate you, and his
+position was therefore secure, as I presume that nobody in the office
+had ever set eyes upon you?"
+
+"Not a soul," groaned Hall Pycroft.
+
+"Very good. Of course, it was of the utmost importance to prevent you
+from thinking better of it, and also to keep you from coming into
+contact with anyone who might tell you that your double was at work in
+Mawson's office. Therefore they gave you a handsome advance on your
+salary, and ran you off to the Midlands, where they gave you enough work
+to do to prevent your going to London, where you might have burst their
+little game up. That is all plain enough."
+
+"But why should this man pretend to be his own brother?"
+
+"Well, that is pretty clear also. There are evidently only two of them
+in it. The other is personating you at the office. This one acted as
+your engager, and then found that he could not find you an employer
+without admitting a third person into his plot. That he was most
+unwilling to do. He changed his appearance as far as he could, and
+trusted that the likeness, which you could not fail to observe, would be
+put down to a family resemblance. But for the happy chance of the gold
+stuffing your suspicions would probably have never been aroused."
+
+Hall Pycroft shook his clenched hands in the air. "Good Lord!" he cried.
+"While I have been fooled in this way, what has this other Hall Pycroft
+been doing at Mawson's? What should we do, Mr. Holmes? Tell me what to
+do!"
+
+"We must wire to Mawson's."
+
+"They shut at twelve on Saturdays."
+
+"Never mind; there may be some doorkeeper or attendant----"
+
+"Ah, yes; they keep a permanent guard there on account of the value of
+the securities that they hold. I remember hearing it talked of in the
+City."
+
+[Illustration: "PYCROFT SHOOK HIS CLENCHED HANDS IN THE AIR."]
+
+"Very good, we shall wire to him, and see if all is well, and if a clerk
+of your name is working there. That is clear enough, but what is not so
+clear is why at sight of us one of the rogues should instantly walk out
+of the room and hang himself."
+
+"The paper!" croaked a voice behind us. The man was sitting up, blanched
+and ghastly, with returning reason in his eyes, and hands which rubbed
+nervously at the broad red band which still encircled his throat.
+
+"The paper! Of course!" yelled Holmes, in a paroxysm of excitement.
+"Idiot that I was! I thought so much of our visit that the paper never
+entered my head for an instant. To be sure the secret must lie there."
+He flattened it out upon the table, and a cry of triumph burst from his
+lips.
+
+"Look at this, Watson!" he cried. "It is a London paper, an early
+edition of the _Evening Standard_. Here is what we want. Look at the
+headlines--'Crime in the City. Murder at Mawson and Williams'. Gigantic
+Attempted Robbery; Capture of the Criminal.' Here, Watson, we are all
+equally anxious to hear it, so kindly read it aloud to us."
+
+It appeared from its position in the paper to have been the one event of
+importance in town, and the account of it ran in this way:--
+
+"A desperate attempt at robbery, culminating in the death of one man and
+the capture of the criminal, occurred this afternoon in the City. For
+some time back Mawson and Williams, the famous financial house, have
+been the guardians of securities which amount in the aggregate to a sum
+of considerably over a million sterling. So conscious was the manager of
+the responsibility which devolved upon him in consequence of the great
+interests at stake, that safes of the very latest construction have been
+employed, and an armed watchman has been left day and night in the
+building. It appears that last week a new clerk, named Hall Pycroft, was
+engaged by the firm. This person appears to have been none other than
+Beddington, the famous forger and cracksman, who, with his brother, has
+only recently emerged from a five years' spell of penal servitude. By
+some means, which are not yet clear, he succeeded in winning, under a
+false name, this official position in the office, which he utilized in
+order to obtain mouldings of various locks, and a thorough knowledge of
+the position of the strong room and the safes.
+
+"It is customary at Mawson's for the clerks to leave at midday on
+Saturday. Sergeant Tuson, of the City Police, was somewhat surprised
+therefore to see a gentleman with a carpet bag come down the steps at
+twenty minutes past one. His suspicions being aroused, the sergeant
+followed the man, and with the aid of Constable Pollock succeeded, after
+a most desperate resistance, in arresting him. It was at once clear that
+a daring and gigantic robbery had been committed. Nearly a hundred
+thousand pounds worth of American railway bonds, with a large amount of
+scrip in other mines and companies, were discovered in the bag. On
+examining the premises the body of the unfortunate watchman was found
+doubled up and thrust into the largest of the safes, where it would not
+have been discovered until Monday morning had it not been for the prompt
+action of Sergeant Tuson. The man's skull had been shattered by a blow
+from a poker, delivered from behind. There could be no doubt that
+Beddington had obtained entrance by pretending that he had left
+something behind him, and having murdered the watchman, rapidly rifled
+the large safe, and then made off with his booty. His brother, who
+usually works with him, has not appeared in this job, so far as can at
+present be ascertained, although the police are making energetic
+inquiries as to his whereabouts."
+
+[Illustration: "GLANCING AT THE HAGGARD FIGURE."]
+
+"Well, we may save the police some little trouble in that direction,"
+said Holmes, glancing at the haggard figure huddled up by the window.
+"Human nature is a strange mixture, Watson. You see that even a villain
+and a murderer can inspire such affection that his brother turns to
+suicide when he learns that his neck is forfeited. However, we have no
+choice as to our action. The doctor and I will remain on guard, Mr.
+Pycroft, if you will have the kindness to step out for the police."
+
+
+
+
+_Beauties._
+
+[Illustration: FROM PHOTOGRAPHS BY MESSRS. ELLIOTT AND FRY, BAKER
+STREET, W.]
+
+[Illustration: Miss Webster
+
+Madame Shirmer-Mapleson
+
+Madame Sigrid Arnoldson]
+
+[Illustration: Miss ALICE LETHBRIDGE
+
+Miss Flo Henderson
+
+Mdlle. Del Torre]
+
+
+
+
+_Hands._
+
+BY BECKLES WILLSON.
+
+II.
+
+
+[Illustration: CASTING A HAND FROM LIFE.
+
+(_Studio of Mr. Onslow Ford, A.R.A._)]
+
+The sculptor's practice of casting in plaster the hands of his client is
+of comparatively recent growth. The artist of the old school--and he is
+followed in this by many of the new--disdained so mechanical a means to
+fidelity. Very few, indeed, among the British painters and sculptors of
+the past will be found who took the pains to see that the hands or even
+the figures of their counterfeit presentments on canvas or in marble
+tallied with the originals. Sir Joshua Reynolds, as we know, would have
+regarded this as the essence of finical vulgarity.
+
+The principal drawback in making casts from life is to be found in the
+discomfort, not to speak of the actual torment, it often causes the
+sitter by the adhesion of the plaster to the hairy growth of the skin.
+Various methods are resorted to with a view to obviate this, and in some
+cases successfully.
+
+The hands of Thomas Carlyle--stubborn, combative, mystical--which appear
+in the present paper, will amply repay the closest scrutiny. These hands
+are unwontedly realistic, and emphasize their distinctiveness in every
+vein and wrinkle. They appear to be themselves endowed with each of
+those various qualities which caused their possessor to be regarded as
+one of the most puissant figures in the century's literature. The hand
+is not one, to use Charles Lamb's expressive phrase, to be looked at
+_standing on one leg_. It deserves a keener examination.
+
+[Illustration: THOMAS CARLYLE'S HANDS.]
+
+Mention has been made of the hand of a distinguished prelate, Cardinal
+Manning. It will not be out of place to compare it with the hands of
+the late Archbishop of Canterbury, which were cast posthumously.
+Scarcely anything could be more antagonistic. The nervous personality of
+Manning is wanting here. The hands of the Archbishop seem more to belong
+to the order of the benevolent Bishop Myriel than to that of the
+enthusiast and ascetic.
+
+[Illustration: THE LATE ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY'S HANDS.]
+
+[Illustration: LORD PALMERSTON'S HAND.]
+
+Plenty of opportunity to study the hands of statesmen is afforded in
+those of Lord Palmerston, Count Cavour, Sir Stratford Canning, and Lord
+Melbourne. The fallacy of attaching special qualities to any distinctive
+trait in the hand of an eminent person is most readily discernible here.
+One should avoid _à posteriori_ reasoning. It would be the same for a
+physiognomist to argue a man a statesman from a facial resemblance to
+Mr. Gladstone, or that he is fit to write tragedies because he owns the
+exact facial proportions of Sardou.
+
+[Illustration: COUNT CAVOUR'S HANDS.]
+
+[Illustration: SIR STRATFORD CANNING'S HANDS.]
+
+Among these the hand of Lord Palmerston will stand forth most
+prominently to the reader. Its characteristics are, on the whole,
+sufficiently obvious, in the appended cast, to be thought accentuated.
+It might not unprofitably be noted in connection with those of Stratford
+Canning, Viscount de Redcliffe (for fifty years British Ambassador in
+India), whose statue by Boehm, with Tennyson's famous epitaph:
+
+    Thou third great Canning, stand among our best
+      And noblest, now thy long day's work hath ceased,
+    Here, silent in our Minster of the West,
+      Who wert the voice of England in the East!
+
+is in a nave of the Abbey. With these should be joined the hand of
+Viscount Melbourne, the predecessor of Sir Robert Peel in the
+Premiership, and the great statesman after whom the city of Melbourne
+was named, in order to range this British galaxy against the hands of
+the Italian patriots, Count Cavour and Joseph Garibaldi, whose labours
+resulted in that master stroke of latter-day politics, the unification
+of Italy. Those of the former were cast separately in different
+positions, it being the intention of the sculptor for the right hand to
+rest lightly upon a column and the left to grasp a roll of parchment.
+Garibaldi's hand may be described as both virile and nervous.
+
+[Illustration: LORD MELBOURNE'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: HAND OF JOHN BURNS, M.P.]
+
+[Illustration: HAND OF JOSEPH ARCH, M.P.]
+
+[Illustration: GARIBALDI'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: SIR E. BOEHM'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: HAND OF JOHN JACKSON, R.A.]
+
+Another type of hand is exemplified in the hands of Messrs. Joseph Arch
+and John Burns. Both of these belong to self-made men, accustomed to
+hard manual labour from childhood. Their powerful ruggedness is
+admirably set off by the exquisite symmetry and feminine proportions of
+the hand of John Jackson a Royal Academician and great painter of his
+time. For symmetry, combined with grace, this hand is not surpassed.
+
+The hand of Sir Edgar Boehm was cast by his assistant, Professor
+Lantéri, for the former's statue of Sir Francis Drake. It will be
+observed that the fingers grasp a pair of compasses, the original of
+those which appear in the bronze at Plymouth.
+
+[Illustration: LADY BLESSINGTON'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: MRS. CARLYLE'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: MRS. THORNYCROFT'S HAND.]
+
+Reverting to the ladies again, interest will, no doubt, centre upon the
+hand of the celebrated Lady Blessington, accounted the wittiest hostess
+of her day; and not least attractive will appear Mrs. Carlyle's and
+those of Mrs. Thornycroft and the celebrated Madame Tussaud. The wife of
+the Chelsea sage was herself, as is known, an authoress of no mean
+repute.
+
+A comparison of the hand of Mr. Bancroft with that of Mr. Irving, given
+last month, will prove interesting, if not instructive.
+
+[Illustration: MME. TUSSAUD'S HAND.]
+
+It has been said that the hands of Carlyle are characteristic; that they
+possess, with those of Wilkie Collins, the merit of being precisely the
+sort of hands one would expect to see so labelled. We now present a
+third candidate for this merit of candour in casts of the hands of the
+notorious Arthur Orton, better known under the sobriquet of the
+Claimant. They are pulseless, chubby, oblique: yet they are remarkable.
+In scrutinizing them, it is difficult not to feel that one looks upon
+hands very remote indeed from the ordinary.
+
+[Illustration: MR. BANCROFT'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: HANDS OF THE TICHBORNE CLAIMANT.]
+
+Next we look upon the hand of a giant even superior to Anak, in
+Loushkin, the Russian. But physically great as was the Muscovite, it is
+to be doubted if he really attained the world-wide celebrity of the
+little American, Charles Stratton (otherwise known as "Tom Thumb"),
+whose extremity serves as a foil to his rival for exhibition honours.
+
+Another Boehm relic requires some explanation. Every visitor to the
+Metropolis has doubtless seen and admired the heroic equestrian statue
+of the Duke of Wellington, opposite Apsley House. They may even have
+noticed the right hand, which is represented as lightly holding the rein
+of the animal. The appended was cast from the original model in clay of
+the hand of the Duke, no cast direct from life ever having been
+executed.
+
+[Illustration: THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON'S HAND.]
+
+It is sufficient to say that the subjoined hand and arm of Lady
+Cardigan, wife of the noted Crimean warrior, was one greatly admired by
+Sir Edgar, in whose studio it hung for many years. In like manner will
+the hand of Lady Richard Grosvenor be found the possessor of many
+beautiful and interesting traits.
+
+[Illustration: THE HANDS OF "TOM THUMB" AND LOUSHKIN, THE RUSSIAN
+GIANT.]
+
+[Illustration: LADY CARDIGAN'S HAND.]
+
+A member not altogether dissimilar to that of the musician Liszt is the
+hand of Carl von Angeli, Court painter to Her Majesty, and like that
+also in setting at naught the conclusions too often arrived at by the
+chirognomist. For there is here breadth without symmetry, and an utter
+absence of the poise which we look for in the ideal hand of the artist.
+It is instructive to compare it to the hand of the painter, John
+Jackson.
+
+[Illustration: LADY RICHARD GROSVENOR'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: CARL ANGELI'S HAND.]
+
+Observe the massive, masculine fingers and disproportionately small
+finger-nails in the hands of Professor Weekes, the sculptor. There is
+scarcely any perceptible tapering at the third joint, and the fingers
+all exhibit very little prominence of knuckle or contour. It is anything
+but an artistic hand, and yet its owner was a man of the keenest
+artistic perceptions.
+
+In Frederick Baring's (Lord Ashburton) we find the thick-set fingers,
+and what the chirognomist calls the "lack of manual repose," of the
+great financier. But as his lordship was statesman with a talent for
+debate as well as man of commerce, it will not unlikely be found that
+the hand presented combines the both temperaments.
+
+[Illustration: PROFESSOR WEEKES' HANDS.]
+
+[Illustration: LORD ASHBURTON'S HAND.]
+
+I have been enabled, through the kindness of Mr. J. T. Tussaud, to
+embellish the present collection by an ancient cast of the hand of the
+Comte de Lorge, a famous prisoner in the Bastille. This cast was taken,
+together with a death mask, after death, by the great-grandmother of the
+sculptor, to whom both relics have descended.
+
+The Queen's hands, which appeared in the last issue of this Magazine,
+were cast by John Francis, a famous sculptor of the day. Mr. Hamo
+Thorneycroft, R.A., writes me to say that "While the moulds were being
+made Her Majesty removed all the rings from her fingers _except_ the
+wedding ring. This she was most anxious should not come off, and was in
+considerable fear lest the moulding process might remove it."
+
+[Illustration: COMTE DE LORGE'S HAND.]
+
+
+[_The original drawings of the illustrations in this Magazine are always
+on view, and on sale, in the Art Gallery at these offices, which is open
+to the public without charge._]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: ROSITA]
+
+FROM THE FRENCH OF PITRE CHEVALIER.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+It was harvest day at a house in the little village of Panola, in
+Castile, on the 25th of August, 1838. The great sheaves of corn had been
+borne, amidst universal rejoicing, to their resting-place in the
+granary. All the village inhabitants had shared in this pleasant task,
+and now, following an ancient custom, they had erected a trophy composed
+of a few last sheaves of corn, round which the young girls and men began
+to dance gaily, to the sound of guitars and castanets.
+
+Within the house, in a room which overlooked this charming scene, were
+two men.
+
+The first, seated at a table, was an old man over sixty, but enfeebled
+rather by cares than by age. His venerable head, crowned with white
+hair, drooped upon his breast with patriarchal dignity. The old man, who
+had been a soldier in the Spanish army, was Don Pedro de la Sarga, a
+Castilian as noble as he was poor. His companion was his son, Don
+Stephano, a young man of twenty, considered the most accomplished man in
+Panola. He was handsome; his warm, brown skin, his large, black eyes,
+the regular features, which wore that expression of national pride which
+distinguishes a Castilian from any other race, and his raven-black hair
+were eminently the Spanish type in all its grace and haughtiness. The
+young man wore the Spanish holiday costume, the richness of which has
+made travellers exclaim, more than once, that no European prince is
+clothed like a simple peasant of Castile. Stephano had on a short vest
+of black cloth, lined with yellow silk, ornamented with fringes and
+bunches of ribbons; an embroidered shirt with open collar revealing a
+waistcoat with gilt buttons, knee-breeches of black silk confined at the
+knees by bunches of ribbons, shoes and gaiters of fine brown leather,
+while a black felt hat with drooping plume completed his costume.
+
+Stephano's gloomy face contrasted with his gay attire. He leant against
+the open window, carelessly holding in his hand a bouquet of faded
+jasmine, whilst he gazed with melancholy eyes upon the festive scene
+before him, and only by a shake of the head and a sad smile replied to
+the light badinage of the dancers as they passed the window. But now and
+then his eyes lighted up, and he sighed deeply as a certain dancer,
+prettier than the rest, approached him.
+
+"How pretty she is!" he murmured, as he followed her retreating form.
+
+"Stephano!" called out the old man, who had been watching his son for
+some time.
+
+"How gracefully she dances," continued the handsome dreamer, wrapt in
+his thoughts.
+
+"Stephano!" repeated the old man.
+
+"Yes, father," cried Stephano, with a start, and coming forward. "Do you
+wish to speak to me?"
+
+"From your mysterious air and endless sighs these last few days,
+Stephano, I conclude that you are in love," said his father.
+
+"In love!" stammered the young man. "You think I am in love?"
+
+"I do not think, my son--I am sure of it; and I have only one reproach
+to make to you, and that is that you have not made me a confidant of
+your secret before."
+
+"You shall know all, father," said Stephano, drawing a chair close to
+Don Pedro.
+
+"For the last month," he continued, "I have had in my heart a love which
+nothing can subdue, and the object of my passion is a young girl here, a
+glance from whose eyes is worth more to me than all the world besides;
+but she shuns my love, and on every occasion strives to avoid me. She
+hardly permits me to speak to her for fear that the passion she reads in
+my eyes will break into words."
+
+"Bah!" said the old man, merrily; "it is very likely that she shuns you
+for the reason of your not opening your mouth; you scare the young girl
+with your morose airs."
+
+"Oh, if that were only true," sighed the disconsolate swain.
+
+"Now," said the old man, "there only remains for me to know the name of
+my future daughter-in-law."
+
+The young man was about to pronounce the name which already trembled on
+his lips when a sudden clamour interrupted the most interesting portion
+of this conversation. The peasants, followed by the partners, were
+rushing towards the house, and in the twinkling of an eye the room was
+filled with the animated and noisy throng. The new-comers wore rich
+costumes, more or less copies of Stephano's; some carried guitars,
+others castanets, while most of them leaned upon tall peeled rods,
+forked at the top, and ornamented with ribbons of all colours; each
+carried on the left side of his vest a bouquet similar to that of
+Stephano. The young girls in their silken bodices, short skirts, red
+stockings and mantillas, rattled their castanets as they entered with
+their partners. The joyous crowd surrounded Don Pedro, whilst cries of
+"Rosita! Rosita!" resounded from all sides.
+
+"Well, well, my children, what is it you want?" demanded the village
+Nestor of his clamorous audience.
+
+"We want Mlle. Rosita," they repeated.
+
+"What, my niece? But is she not with you? I thought it was she whom you
+were leading just now round the corn sheaves."
+
+"That is true," replied one of the foremost of the crowd; "everything
+went smoothly until we wished her to take part in our usual ceremony of
+'The Maiden's Choice.'"
+
+"Did you explain to her," asked the old man, "what is the ceremony?"
+
+"Yes, we told her all that was necessary: that it is an old custom in
+Panola on harvest day, after having escorted the daughter of the house
+round the last sheaves of corn, for all her admirers in the village to
+present her, each in his turn, with a bouquet; that she must then choose
+the one she loves amongst them by retaining his bouquet, whilst the
+others are rejected. She answered us by saying that she had only been in
+Panola a few months, and was therefore not forced to adopt our customs,
+and leaving us with these words she fled from us and escaped through the
+little granary door."
+
+"The little shrew!" Don Pedro exclaimed, who, like an amiable old man,
+was always on the side of the young folk. "But my friends," he added,
+"you are but poor Lotharios to be flouted by a young girl; you must
+follow her and bring her back."
+
+"That is just what we have done; but one cannot catch a bird without
+also having wings. She seemed to fly as we followed her, and on reaching
+the granary she entered and slammed the door in our faces; so we have
+come, as a last resource, to you, Don Pedro, to ask her to comply with
+our wishes."
+
+"You are right," replied the old man, with all the gravity of a judge,
+"you must be satisfied at once"; and he looked round for Don Stephano,
+who was standing more moody than ever behind a giggling group of young
+peasants.
+
+"My son," he said, "go and bring your cousin here. If she refuses, tell
+her that I particularly wish her to come."
+
+"I will go, father," said Stephano, after a second's hesitation; and he
+went out.
+
+There was a slight pause; then shouts and acclamations and rattling of
+castanets burst forth, as Rosita, with downcast eyes, entered the room,
+led by Stephano. Well might they welcome with fervour such a charming
+creature. Rosita was just eighteen. She wore upon her golden brown hair
+a black lace mantilla, which contrasted with her creamy complexion and
+the liquid depth of her large brown eyes. A brown velvet bodice showed
+off to perfection her slight yet rounded figure; and her silk skirts
+just revealed her pretty ankles and small feet in their silk stockings
+and neat shoes.
+
+Rosita was a native of Navarre. She had quitted Tafalla, her native
+village, on the death of her father and mother, who had been victims of
+the Civil War which at this time desolated the country, and had been
+conducted not without peril to her uncle's house at Panola, in which she
+had since taken up her abode.
+
+"Rosita," said Don Pedro to his niece, taking her hand, "I have made
+your apologies to your friends for the trick you have played them. It is
+your turn now to atone for your misdeed, by submitting to an old custom.
+Among the brave Castilians who surround you there are many suitors for
+your hand. There must be one among them whom you secretly favour. Your
+choice is entirely free, and even the favoured one after the ceremony
+will then have only the right to please you and to merit your hand."
+
+"But, uncle----" faltered the young girl.
+
+"I will take no denial, my dear," interrupted the old man.
+
+Rosita strove in vain to protest, but her imperturbable uncle would not
+listen, and gave a sign to the peasants to begin the ceremony, in which
+he seemed to take as keen an interest as they did themselves. Thereupon
+the majority of the young men, darting furious glances of jealousy at
+one another, prepared for the contest. Rosita, at her uncle's side,
+stood at one end of the room. At her right and left were grouped the
+young peasant girls, admiring without envy the queen of the _fête_, and
+forming her court. Stephano stood behind with dejected mien. Those with
+guitars touched their instruments lightly now and then, and upon this
+scene, worthy of the pencil of Leopold Roberts, the sun, now setting at
+the horizon, cast a calm and solemn light.
+
+The first peasant who came forward was a tall young man, with a ruddy
+complexion.
+
+"My name is Geronimo Caldaroz, and I am twenty-five. It has been the
+talk of the village why I did not marry, and it has been said it was
+because I had never yet seen a maiden beautiful enough to please me. But
+now I have found her; it is you, Rosita. Will you accept my bouquet?" He
+presented his bouquet to the young girl, who blushed as she received it,
+and then let it fall.
+
+"Refused! Refused!" whispered the spectators, whilst the young man
+disappeared into the crowd, and a second one took his place. But the
+same thing occurred, and with the same result. Soon the jasmine bouquets
+covered the ground round the young girl's feet. The rejected suitors
+multiplied so fast that they could no longer hide their discomfiture
+amongst the others. Restless and smiling, Don Pedro wondered why his
+niece was so severe, and the remaining suitors seemed to hesitate
+whether to advance into the lists or not. Then the last three timidly
+advanced one by one toward Rosita. The two first were not even heard to
+the end of their speech, and then all eyes were fixed with interest upon
+the last. Rosita let him finish his discourse, took his bouquet, which
+she scrutinized demurely, and then uttering a deep sigh let it fall upon
+the amorous trophy piled at her feet.
+
+A murmur rose amongst the stupefied villagers. Don Pedro approached his
+niece.
+
+"Well, my child," he said, "have you thought of what you have done?"
+
+"Yes, uncle," Rosita replied. "Did you not tell me yourself that I was
+perfectly free?"
+
+"Free to choose, without doubt; but not to send all your suitors away."
+
+Rosita cast down her eyes and made no reply.
+
+"Pardon me, father, but there still remains one," said Stephano,
+breaking the silence.
+
+"Where is he?" everyone asked at once.
+
+"Here he is."
+
+Rosita trembled so violently that she was compelled to lean for support
+upon her uncle's arm, and Don Pedro, more astonished than anyone, rushed
+towards his son.
+
+"What, Stephano?" he said joyfully. "It is your cousin whom----"
+
+"Yes, father," replied the young man. "It is she whom I love."
+
+In the midst of such general interest Stephano, pale with emotion,
+advanced towards his cousin.
+
+"Rosita, I love you," he said, simply. "Will you keep this bouquet which
+I offer to you?"
+
+The young man pronounced these words with a voice so sweet and
+expressive, and the gesture with which he offered the symbolic flower
+was so imploring and passionate, that a sympathetic thrill ran through
+the spectators, and tears bedimmed Don Pedro's eyes.
+
+[Illustration: "'ROSITA, I LOVE YOU,' HE SAID."]
+
+Rosita, not less pale than her cousin, took the bouquet with a trembling
+hand, gazed upon it tenderly, then made a movement as if to throw it
+down, paused, and then at last, with head turned aside, let it fall.
+
+"Santa Maria! He also!" cried the crowd, mournfully.
+
+"Do not condemn me without hearing my justification," cried Rosita,
+turning to Don Pedro.
+
+"Your justification?" repeated Stephano, with relief.
+
+"Uncle," she said, after a pause, "there is a secret which I may have
+been wrong in concealing from you hitherto, but I must confide it to you
+alone."
+
+"To me!" cried the astonished old man.
+
+"I will come with you at once," and, seizing Rosita's hand, he led her
+away, making signs to the peasants as he did so to disperse.
+
+Stephano strolled out to breathe the air upon the hills, whose shadows
+were beginning to slope down into the valley. The sky was lighted only
+by the afterglow of the red, sunken sun; the evening breeze carried
+along in the warm air the perfume of the jasmine flowers and orange
+groves in bloom, and no sound was heard but the music of guitars and
+castanets, mingled sometimes with the faint tinkle of sheep bells.
+
+When Stephano re-entered he found his father and cousin in the lower
+hall. Rosita, on perceiving him, made a pretext for rising, and
+hurriedly left the room. Don Pedro and his son were left alone.
+
+"One word, father," said Stephano. "Does Rosita love me, and will she
+also become my wife?"
+
+"You must forget Rosita," replied the old man. "You must tear from your
+heart even the remembrance of your love."
+
+The young man abandoned himself to despair.
+
+"I shall never forget her," he said, passionately. "My love for Rosita
+will only cease with my life."
+
+And he rushed from the room, leaving the old man wondering.
+
+
+II.
+
+For some weeks the inmates of Don Pedro's house were forced to remain
+prisoners, for rebel soldiers filled the neighbouring villages, and
+troops of guerillas were being mustered to put them to flight. It was a
+morning, early in September, just after the sun had peered above the
+horizon. A fine rain had fallen during the night, and the drops which
+rested on the foliage sparkled like myriads of diamonds. The streets
+were as yet deserted; some muleteers alone passed along them at
+intervals. Don Pedro's house was the only one astir.
+
+Don Stephano, according to his custom, had risen with the dawn, and was
+now alone in the lower hall, standing opposite the window which
+overlooked the high road. He was occupied in fixing an iron lance upon a
+wooden rod, at which he gazed abstractedly.
+
+The sound of a voice filling the air with song attracted his attention;
+it was singing the Moorish romance of "Adlemar and Adalifa," and to the
+quick perception of a Spanish ear was marked with a slight Ultramontaine
+accent, which Stephano discerned like a true Castilian. Without moving
+he listened to the song which awoke the echoes of the valley. The
+amorous words recalled to Stephano's mind the thought of Rosita, and he
+sighed deeply. Then he listened anew to the voice, which grew nearer and
+nearer, and in which, in spite of its strange accent, he seemed to hear
+an understrain of singular emotion. His conjectures were not long,
+however. A man enveloped in a large mantle peered in at the open window,
+and after throwing a rapid glance behind him leapt into the room.
+Stephano recoiled at the sight of such a strange visitor, and felt
+tempted to seize the man, whom he took at first for a robber. Then a
+troop of horsemen dashed past the house. The stranger gave a sigh of
+relief. Then for the first time he caught sight of Stephano.
+
+"I must be careful," the soldier muttered, as he drew his cloak more
+carefully round him. "This Spaniard does not look over benevolent."
+
+"Who can this man be?" thought Stephano, as he instinctively put his
+hand on his pistols; but on seeing the stranger advance towards him with
+a pleasant smile, he paused.
+
+"Noble Castilian," said the stranger, "are you a man to oblige an enemy
+in peril, and who for a quarter of an hour wishes you no more harm than
+if you were his brother?"
+
+Before replying, Stephano scrutinized his questioner. He saw before him
+a man of about twenty-eight, with a frank face and light hair and
+moustache. His accent, and the blue pantaloons which appeared under the
+brown mantle, proclaimed him a Frenchman.
+
+[Illustration: "THE STRANGER."]
+
+"No unarmed man is my enemy," replied Stephano, "and from the moment my
+roof was over your head you became my guest."
+
+"Shake hands on it! You are a fine fellow," cried the soldier, holding
+out his hand. At the same time he drew aside his mantle, and Stephano
+recognised the uniform worn by the French volunteers of Don Carlos's
+army. "Now, if you have a drop of anything to drink handy, I will tell
+you in a few words what has brought me here."
+
+Stephano opened the sideboard, and brought out a bottle and glasses. The
+soldier wiped his moustache as he began.
+
+"You see before you," he said, with frank abruptness, "Charles
+Dulaurier, a soldier by birth and profession, lieutenant in the
+Grenadiers of His Majesty Charles V.--pardon me, Don Carlos. Being
+stationed some few miles from here, I asked for leave of absence this
+morning to join some troops which (pardon me) are going to make a raid
+upon this very village this morning. But, thanks to my foolhardiness in
+starting off alone, I soon found myself in the hands of guerillas. I
+escaped. They pursued me. But I, though alone in a strange country and
+unarmed, led them a nice dance for half an hour. I was just about to
+fall again into their hands when I came in sight of this house. I duped
+them by my ruse of pitching my voice in such a manner as to lead them to
+think I was beyond the village, whilst I at the same time took refuge
+here. To conclude, my worthy fellow, no doubt the guerillas are not
+blind, and not finding any trace of me upon the route, will return to
+Panola. Consequently, if you are a host to my liking you will----"
+
+"Conceal you," said Stephano, quickly. "You are right!" and he glanced
+round with uneasiness. The lieutenant struck him on the shoulder. "One
+minute," he said; "the guerillas cannot reappear for half an hour. This
+little expedition, as you may imagine, was not my only motive for coming
+to Panola, and I must again abuse your patience in asking you some
+questions upon a certain subject which is the motive of my expedition."
+
+"Go on," replied Stephano, with resignation.
+
+"I came here to look for a young girl," said the Frenchman, twisting his
+moustache, "and as, perhaps, you will be so good as to give me some
+information on this point, it would be better for you to know the story.
+Last year my regiment, after a vigorous resistance, entered a village in
+Navarre."
+
+"A village in Navarre?" repeated Stephano, and his brow darkened.
+
+"One house had been so well defended, indeed, that it was found
+necessary to surround it, and our infuriated soldiers, drunk with
+carnage, determined to massacre everyone within. I luckily surprised
+them as they drew their sabres upon two poor old creatures and their
+young daughter. I threw myself between the victims and their butchers;
+the wretches turned upon me and I fell wounded by a bayonet thrust, but
+they were saved. The kind people who owed me their lives bore me to
+their house, and gave me every care. The young girl watched at my
+bedside for more than a fortnight. Briefly the beauty, the tenderness of
+the little girl, won my heart. Losing no time, I declared my passion.
+She whispered, blushing, that I might speak to her parents. As soon as I
+was well enough to walk, I hastened to the worthy old man, who, after
+the shock he had received, became mortally ill, and felt his end
+approach. I had no sooner asked him for his daughter's hand than he
+exclaimed, 'God be praised! I shall not now die without having
+recompensed our deliverer.' At the same time he took the young girl's
+hand and mine, and, after making us exchange rings, clasped them
+together. Then he stretched forth his trembling hands above our heads to
+bless us, whilst on our knees by the bedside we swore eternal fidelity
+to each other. Three days after the good man died, and the same day my
+regiment left for Castile. Seven months passed without my hearing any
+news from my betrothed, and it was only by chance I learned that on her
+mother's death she had quitted Navarre to take up her abode in her
+uncle's house at Panola.
+
+"But what is the matter?" said the lieutenant, as Stephano rose
+hurriedly.
+
+"I know enough," replied the young man in a hollow voice. "The village
+was Tafalla, and the young girl's name is Rosita."
+
+"But what is there in that?" cried the lieutenant, who understood
+nothing of Stephano's emotion. "You know Rosita? She is here? You are
+silent. Heavens! Is she dead--or married?"
+
+"No, no," replied Stephano, with an effort. "Rosita is here. No doubt
+she loves you and watches for your return with impatience."
+
+"Where, then, shall I find my betrothed?"
+
+Stephano was about to reply to this question when the tramp of horses
+was heard. It was the troop returning.
+
+"Softly!" whispered Dulaurier as he crept towards the window. "Yes,
+these are my friends. Where will you hide me?"
+
+Stephano regarded him with a savage gleam in his eyes and muttered to
+himself, "This man comes here to blast my happiness, and I must protect
+his life at the peril of my own."
+
+"What am I to do?" repeated Dulaurier.
+
+"Take this dagger," said Stephano, "put on your mantle and follow me."
+He unfastened a little door which opened upon a staircase which led into
+the garden, and descended, followed by Dulaurier. They stole along
+behind a thick hedge of hawthorn until they came to the trees of a
+little orchard, from which rose the roof of a ruined summer-house. On
+reaching this spot Stephano installed the lieutenant so that he could
+watch both the road and the garden; then having arranged upon the course
+they should take, Stephano hastened back to the house.
+
+[Illustration: "THEY STOLE ALONG."]
+
+Don Pedro was in the lower hall, alone, when his son entered.
+
+"I have a request to make to you," said the young man, clasping his
+father's hand convulsively. "I want you to let me start at once to join
+my brothers and to fight for Spain."
+
+"Can you then leave your cousin?" said Don Pedro, sadly. "And you do not
+know----"
+
+"I know more than you, father, more than Rosita herself about this
+affair," interrupted Stephano. "Is not Rosita betrothed to a French
+volunteer in Don Carlos's army, and is this not the secret she confided
+to you on harvest day?"
+
+"It is true. But how have you discovered it?"
+
+"From a man flying from the pursuit of guerillas; no other than the man
+himself, Lieutenant Charles Dulaurier!"
+
+"Is it possible?" exclaimed the stupefied old man.
+
+"You see, father, that it is absolutely necessary for me to go," cried
+Stephano. "I cannot wait until Rosita and Dulaurier are united. Their
+happiness would be more than I could bear, and I have thought of a plan
+by which the lieutenant can be saved without putting off my departure. I
+shall join the troop of guerillas who are seeking Dulaurier in the
+village. Seeing me become one of themselves their suspicions will be
+lulled, and I shall save my rival by departing with his enemies."
+
+"You are right," replied his father, after a painful pause, but he could
+not utter a word more.
+
+The young man proceeded to take down from the wall his pistols and his
+gun; he placed the former in his belt and the latter on his shoulder,
+took his hat and stepped forward to bid his father farewell. But as he
+threw himself into the arms of the weeping old man, the door opened and
+Rosita entered.
+
+The young girl glanced quickly from one to the other, and then her eyes
+remained fixed on Stephano.
+
+"What are you going to do?" she asked, examining his equipment.
+
+"I am going away," replied Stephano. "Farewell, Rosita, be happy.
+Farewell, father," he added, embracing Don Pedro.
+
+"He is going," said Rosita, her eyes dim with tears, "without one
+friendly smile, without one clasp of his hand. Oh! Stephano," she
+exclaimed, springing forward. "You cannot part from me thus!"
+
+"You are keeping me!" said the bewildered young man.
+
+"Yes," she replied, seizing his hand. "Stay, Stephano, do not go. I
+implore you!"
+
+"Remain!" cried the young man, passionately. "Remain to see you in the
+arms of another? Never!"
+
+As he moved towards the door, Rosita sprang towards him with
+outstretched arms. "And what if it is you whom I love, Stephano? What if
+I have never loved anyone but you?" A thunderbolt would hardly have
+produced more effect than did these words.
+
+"You love me?" he repeated, approaching his cousin. "Rosita, for mercy's
+sake, repeat those words once more, so that I may be sure of having
+heard aright."
+
+"Yes, I love you," repeated the young girl, tenderly; "no one but you!
+Will you stay now?"
+
+"For ever, if you wish it!" cried the enraptured youth, throwing down
+his gun and pistols. "Look at me, Rosita, that I may read in your eyes
+that word which gives me life, and which I have waited for so long. How
+blind and foolish I have been! But that will be all right now, will it
+not, my beloved?" As he spoke he embraced her passionately. By both of
+them the world was forgotten.
+
+Through the open window came the clink of spurs and rattling of sabres.
+This sound, to which Stephano and Rosita were deaf, struck on the ear of
+Don Pedro and paralyzed him with terror.
+
+"Stephano!" he cried at last. "Remember Lieutenant Dulaurier!"
+
+[Illustration: "REMEMBER LIEUTENANT DULAURIER!"]
+
+"Ah!" groaned Stephano, rudely torn from his ecstasy of happiness; and
+he fixed his gaze upon his cousin.
+
+The girl had not even heard Don Pedro.
+
+"Rosita," said her lover, "you say you love me, but you have a
+_fiancé!_"
+
+"Dulaurier!" cried the startled girl. "Great Heaven! pardon me, I had
+forgotten."
+
+"If this man," continued Stephano, "came here to claim your promise, you
+would reply, would you not, that friendship alone, not love, had drawn
+you towards him, and that your hand, promised when you hardly knew what
+you did, would now be given without your heart?"
+
+"Yes, that is what I should answer; but he is not likely to come here,
+Stephano."
+
+"And what if he were here already?" asked an impressive voice.
+
+Don Pedro at the same time stepped forward between the young people, and
+before the severe face of the Spaniard their eyes drooped.
+
+"Father!" faltered the young man.
+
+"Silence!" cried the old man. "Your duty is clear. What if Dulaurier
+were in the house, Rosita--what if, more faithful than you, he had come
+to claim his promise, made at the death-bed of your father? I ask you
+what you would answer."
+
+Trembling and submissive as a criminal before his judge, the young girl
+turned her eyes from Stephano to Don Pedro.
+
+"I should reply to Lieutenant Dulaurier that, before God and man, I am
+his betrothed bride, and that while he lives no other can be my
+husband."
+
+"Come then, my child, prepare to receive your _fiancé_," and Don Pedro
+held out his hand to his niece to lead her away.
+
+"You are destroying my happiness!" cried Stephano.
+
+"But in return I give you back your honour," replied Don Pedro. "Look
+after the lieutenant, for here come the guerillas!" and he went out.
+
+"What a dream, and what an awakening!" murmured Stephano as he was left
+alone. "Rosita vows she loves me, and at the same time declares she will
+never be mine while Dulaurier lives. _While he lives!_ And I must take
+upon myself the peril of saving him, when I have only to let him----Oh,
+how despair tempts us to horrible deeds! Is there time to fly, to quit
+this spot where each thought is torture: to hasten and join the
+guerillas before they enter the house? For, alas! if they enter now and
+demand where their enemy is--by Heaven! I shall not have the strength to
+resist--I must fly!"
+
+Picking up his gun and pistols he rushed towards the door, but recoiled
+at the sight of a man in the uniform of a captain of guerillas, who by a
+gesture forced him to pause.
+
+[Illustration: "IT IS TOO LATE!"]
+
+"Malediction--it is too late!" murmured the young man, as he dropped
+upon a chair, and let his unheeded weapons fall to the ground.
+
+"Two sentinels before each door and window," called out the captain to
+the soldiers who followed him. "This is the last house in which our
+prisoner could take refuge," he continued, striking impatiently the butt
+end of his rifle upon the ground. "Search well, comrades; you know he
+who takes the Frenchman prisoner is to have the honour of firing the
+first shot upon him, and is also to receive twenty douros for reward."
+Thereupon he advanced into the room. "Well, my good fellow," he said to
+Stephano; "what are you going to do with these weapons? Are they to
+defend yourself or to protect the officer whom you have hidden here?"
+
+"No one is hidden in this house," replied the young man, with the
+courage which peril bestows. "The La Sargas are known throughout the
+country to be devoted to Spain and the Queen. I have three brothers in
+the national army, and I have just picked up these weapons with the
+intention of joining your troops."
+
+The captain looked at him with a sneering smile. Then he turned to his
+companions, who had just returned from searching the house.
+
+"Well, have you found anything?"
+
+"Only a young girl and an old man," was the reply.
+
+"Bring the old man here," said the captain; then he turned to Stephano.
+"And you, sir, go with my lieutenant and these three men, and show them
+every room there is"; then he murmured in the lieutenant's ear,
+slipping at the same time a purse of gold into his hand: "Spare neither
+threats nor persuasion to gain this young man over to our side. Whatever
+it costs, I must recapture our prisoner."
+
+Stephano felt tempted to resist these orders, but he reflected that this
+would only draw suspicion upon him, and he led the way up the stairs,
+which were placed in a corner of the room.
+
+At the same time Don Pedro entered, guarded by two soldiers and leaning
+on his staff. Then an interval ensued, and the minutes flew past.
+Suddenly a pistol shot was heard. Everyone gave a start of alarm. Then
+one of the guards who had gone out with Stephano came rushing down the
+stairs and into the room.
+
+"The bird is snared, or will be in a few minutes," he cried. "Our
+prisoner," he continued, pointing through the window, "is in that
+building which you see at the bottom of the garden."
+
+"How do you know this?" asked the captain.
+
+"From the young man who is upstairs with the lieutenant."
+
+"From Stephano!" cried the old man, growing pale with horror.
+
+"Ah, ah!" laughed the captain, "your son does not seem very hard to
+persuade."
+
+"The lieutenant having discovered nothing," the man went on, "told three
+of us to go and search the granary, and took advantage of the occasion
+to take the young man aside. I watched them. A purse of gold and the
+barrel of a pistol have been the principal inducements. The sly fellow
+at first was very obstinate, and it was then that the lieutenant fired
+the pistol at him to frighten him. The young man seemed to be moved in a
+singular manner by the shot. He gave way with good grace, and pointed
+the pavilion out to us."
+
+Whilst the captain lent a joyful ear to this narrative, Don Pedro, on
+the contrary, listened with terror mingled with incredulity. At these
+last words he could contain himself no longer, and broke in violently:--
+
+"Enough, wretch; enough!" he cried. "What you say is impossible! It is
+an infamous calumny! My son is quite incapable of such villainy!"
+
+"Look, senor," replied the man, pointing to the stairs.
+
+Stephano in truth was descending with the lieutenant, holding the purse
+in his hand. His pale and agitated face seemed to proclaim his guilt,
+and Don Pedro sank back fainting on a seat. Stephano crossed the room
+with a faltering step without observing his father, and, reaching the
+window, gazed out upon the road.
+
+In recalling to mind his son's jealousy of Dulaurier, Don Pedro
+understood the facts of the matter--that he had sold his guest to get
+rid of a detested rival. Maddened by passion, he had without doubt lost
+all control over himself. After having exchanged some words in a low
+voice with his lieutenant, the captain made a sign to two of his men.
+
+"Remain with this fellow," he said, in a tone of contempt, pointing to
+Stephano, "until we reach the pavilion; if he makes one movement shoot
+him, and when a volley announces to you that we are not deceived, join
+us to start upon our route."
+
+"Very good, captain," answered the two soldiers, taking up their
+position on each side of Stephano, whilst the others went out softly.
+
+A mournful silence reigned in the chamber.
+
+Stephano stood erect before the window, with haggard eyes fixed upon the
+road; Don Pedro, mute and motionless in his chair, seemed like a man
+bereft of all at a single blow. Then, his misery overwhelming him, he
+covered his face with his hands and wept. Stephano turned round quickly,
+and for the first time saw his father.
+
+"Great Heavens! He was there, and heard all!" he murmured. "Father!" he
+cried imploringly.
+
+"Call me your father no more," cried the old man, with flaming eyes,
+"unless you can tell me that I am blind and deaf, or that I have dreamed
+that my son was a coward, a traitor, an assassin! Tell me so, Stephano,
+for pity's sake!"
+
+The young man made an effort as if he were about to speak, but paused at
+the sight of his two guards; the strain was so painful that he was
+forced to lean for support on one of the guerilla's arms. Then he turned
+away; Don Pedro rose from his seat and came towards his son.
+
+"His eye never quits this fatal window," he murmured to himself. "It
+looks as if he watched to see the success of his perfidy, that he wishes
+to assure himself that his rival does not escape. Wretch!" he burst
+forth, "if this is so, may you be----"
+
+Suddenly a hand was laid softly upon the old man's arm. It was Rosita.
+
+"Ah! it is you, Rosita!" said Don Pedro with a bewildered stare.
+"Wretched man that I am, what was I about to do?" he added, passing his
+hand over his forehead.
+
+Rosita came farther forward into the room.
+
+"Stephano guarded by two soldiers!" she cried. "Holy Virgin! what does
+this mean, and what has happened?"
+
+And she made an instinctive movement towards her cousin. Her uncle
+stopped her.
+
+"Keep away from this wretched man!" he cried, "for he is a coward and a
+traitor; he has betrayed your betrothed!"
+
+"Betrayed my betrothed!" cried the girl, with horror. "It is
+impossible!"
+
+"Not only has he betrayed him," continued the old man, taking his
+niece's hand, "but he is watching for the success of his treason. Do you
+recognise my son, Rosita?" he added, with heartrending despair, "or the
+man whom you loved?"
+
+Here the poor old man broke down completely, and sank back into his
+chair. The girl gazed at him with consternation. Even the rough soldiers
+were touched by the scene, and turned their heads aside.
+
+[Illustration: "THE POOR OLD MAN BROKE DOWN COMPLETELY."]
+
+At that instant a loud report shook the walls. It was the captain's
+volley. The two soldiers exchanged a meaning glance and disappeared. As
+soon as they went out Rosita threw herself in Don Pedro's arms.
+
+"Dulaurier is dead!" said the old man, gloomily.
+
+"He is saved!" cried Stephano, coming forward, and throwing from him as
+he did so the purse of gold. "Yes, father, yes, Rosita, the lieutenant
+is safe and sound, and will be with us in a few seconds."
+
+"How can that be?" cried Don Pedro, passing from despair to joy.
+
+"Before leaving Dulaurier in the pavilion we had arranged that he was to
+be informed by a pistol shot when he must leave his hiding-place for the
+granary whilst his enemies were searching the pavilion. You understand
+now how the guerilla's shot agitated me. For, of course, Dulaurier,
+taking the report for the signal agreed upon, would leave the pavilion
+for the granary, and would then fall into the hands of his pursuers. The
+only plan to save him was to get the soldiers away from the granary,
+which I did by feigning to betray Dulaurier, by accepting the purse, and
+pointing out the pavilion as his hiding-place. For a quarter of an hour
+I have endured the tortures of hell, but I have saved the man who
+confided in me, and I am still worthy of you both!"
+
+The young man had hardly finished his narrative when his father and
+Rosita were at his feet begging for forgiveness. Then Stephano hastened
+to the granary, and called the lieutenant's name, but there was no
+response, and soon Stephano's surprise was changed to uneasiness. He
+rushed into the granary. It was empty. Stephano reappeared, pale,
+tottering and breathless.
+
+"Dulaurier is not in the granary," he cried. "He cannot have taken the
+pistol shot for my signal. He must have remained, and that report we
+heard was his death-shot."
+
+He paused abruptly. Don Pedro and Rosita understood, and burst forth
+into an exclamation of horror.
+
+"Victory! Victory!" cried a hundred voices.
+
+Their despair and consternation were changed to the most lively
+astonishment, when a detachment of Don Carlos's volunteers entered the
+house, led by Dulaurier himself.
+
+"Dulaurier!" exclaimed Stephano, Don Pedro, and Rosita at the same time.
+
+"Our enemies!" said the old Castilian, whilst his niece shrank behind
+him.
+
+"Say rather friends," replied Dulaurier, pressing Stephano's hand
+warmly.
+
+"But how has all this happened?" began the bewildered Stephano.
+
+"One minute's attention. For half an hour I waited patiently after your
+departure in the little pavilion, when I heard the signal we arranged on
+of the pistol shot. I quitted my hiding-place at once, and was preparing
+to creep towards the granary, when, casting a glance upon the road, I
+recognised the uniforms of the volunteers of my regiment. Briefly,"
+continued Dulaurier, showing the soldiers who surrounded him, "here are
+the gentlemen, whom I have the honour of presenting to you. Like good
+comrades, they determined to avenge me, and we caught the guerillas in
+an ambush as they were searching the pavilion. Bang! a general
+discharge, and thirty men were lying on the ground, and the rest running
+away for their lives."
+
+"The volley of which we believed you the victim!" interrupted Stephano.
+
+"You understand the rest. Not wishing to quit Panola without thanking
+you, and also wishing to see about that little matter which I mentioned
+to you this morning, we came on here. And now," he added to Stephano,
+with the air of a man who has no time to lose, "I must thank you most
+warmly for all you have done for me."
+
+There was such a tone of kindness in these words that Stephano could do
+nothing but grasp his hand cordially in return.
+
+"Anyone else?" cried the effusive officer, looking quickly round. "You
+have a father, a mother, a wife, perhaps? Where are they? This noble old
+man must be your father," and upon Stephano's making an affirmative sign
+he grasped the old man's hand, and wrung it with force.
+
+"Are there no ladies in your family?" asked Dulaurier with a gallant
+air.
+
+It was then that in spite of Rosita's efforts to avoid his attention he
+caught sight of her as she hid behind Don Pedro's high-backed chair.
+
+"Ah! here is one!" he said, without recognising his betrothed. He
+stepped forward towards her.
+
+"Most amiable senora," he began politely, "permit me----" He paused,
+gazing with stupefied eyes upon the young girl, and then made a sign to
+his soldiers to leave them.
+
+"Good Heavens!" he exclaimed, "if I am not deceived it is Rosita, my
+pretty _fiancée_!"
+
+"You are right; it is I, Monsieur Dulaurier," faltered the young girl.
+
+The light of happiness vanished from all the faces in the room except
+the lieutenant's.
+
+"You can easily understand, my pretty one, what has led me to Panola,"
+said Dulaurier.
+
+"I presume you have come to remind Rosita," answered Don Pedro, "of the
+promise that she gave you at her dying father's bedside. She has not
+forgotten it, senor. She recognises her duty, and you have only one word
+to say----"
+
+"Will you answer me yourself, Rosita?" interrupted Dulaurier, marking
+her extreme pallor and agitation. "You know what I have the right of
+claiming; are you still able to give it me freely?"
+
+"Without doubt," she murmured; "if I give you my hand, my heart will go
+with it."
+
+"Words, nothing but words!" thought the lieutenant, who grew pale in his
+turn. "All women are weathercocks. It is clear I am superseded," and he
+bit his lip until it bled. "But I should like to know who is my
+substitute," and he turned mechanically to Stephano. He found him as
+mute and as troubled as Rosita. The truth flashed across him. "I cannot
+blame the brave young man," he murmured to himself, "for falling in love
+with his cousin. It has not prevented him from saving my life at the
+expense of his love and honour, and as I have no wish for a heart not
+wholly mine, I have now to render sacrifice for sacrifice, and to keep
+the reputation of France equal to that of Spain." He turned to Rosita
+with a smile.
+
+"Mademoiselle," he began, "when we plighted our troth, and I told you
+that I loved you devotedly, I was as sincere as I am to-day, only I took
+upon myself too much, and have contracted several other engagements,
+more or less similar to yours." He gave a forced laugh as he pronounced
+these words.
+
+"That is enough, senor," said Don Pedro. "But why have you then come to
+Panola to claim her promise?"
+
+"Who said that I was here for that purpose?" asked Dulaurier, abruptly.
+Stephano, indeed, recollected that the Frenchman had not said a single
+word which implied that he came to claim Rosita's hand. "I implore
+Mademoiselle Rosita to pardon me," pursued Dulaurier, "and I propose
+that we exchange rings again."
+
+[Illustration: "I PROPOSE THAT WE EXCHANGE RINGS AGAIN."]
+
+It was no sooner said than done. Dulaurier turned and clasped Stephano's
+hand again, and now the young man saw with apprehension that Dulaurier's
+eyes were dim with tears. Dulaurier could keep up the farce no longer,
+and his heart was breaking behind the smile upon his lips.
+
+"Dulaurier!" said the young man, "you weep: you are unhappy! What you
+have said has been only a sublime falsehood! You love Rosita--you wish
+to marry her--and if you have the generosity to renounce all for me, it
+must not be at the expense of your happiness."
+
+"Hush!" said Dulaurier, as he took him aside. "Do not undo my work. But
+since you have found it out, you are right. I did come back to claim
+Rosita. I have always loved her, and have loved none but her. But do not
+breathe a word of this. Let no thought of my unhappiness cast a shadow
+on her life. Sacrifice for sacrifice, young man. France is equal to
+Spain, and we are quits.
+
+"Farewell, brave Castilians," he cried aloud, "celebrate the marriage
+merrily: and let us hope that we shall never meet upon the battlefield
+of this unhappy country."
+
+"Farewell!" replied Stephano, huskily.
+
+Dulaurier pressed Don Pedro's and Stephano's hands, kissed that of
+Rosita, and joined his comrades outside.
+
+"Wheel to the right--forward!" he shouted, at the head of his battalion.
+
+Then came the roll of the drum, and they all marched past the window.
+
+"Rosita," said Stephano to his cousin, "you are free, and we are going
+to be happy; but never let us forget Lieutenant Dulaurier!"
+
+
+
+
+_The Queer Side of Things._
+
+
+The N. P. M. C
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Let us return for a space to the two spirits William and James, whose
+conversations we described in past numbers. Some readers may possibly
+recall how the spirit James, while wandering through the darkness of
+unoccupied Space (about five-and-twenty billions of eons before the
+commencement of Eternity), conceived a wild idea of the possibility of
+the existence of worlds--worlds occupied by an impracticability called
+"man." It will be recollected how the wiser spirit William cast
+well-merited ridicule upon this insanely impossible phantasy of a
+disordered mind; nay, even condescended to crush, by perspicuous and
+irrefutable logic, the grotesque and preposterous idea.
+
+Very well; it is now William's turn.
+
+"James," he said one day as they chanced to sight each other in the
+awful solitude of Space, "I have been thinking over that world of yours,
+and your crowning absurdity, 'man.' Pray do not become too inflated with
+weak conceit at my condescending to think about such trivialities; for
+the fact is, any subject of thought--however hopelessly foolish--is a
+relief amid the tediousness of Space. Well, I have been reflecting upon
+that characteristic which you conceive as distinguishing your puppet
+'man'--I allude to _intelligence_. I think you suggested that he would
+possess intelligence?"
+
+James only fidgeted uneasily, and made a feeble sign of affirmation.
+
+"Very well," continued William. "Now, I have been putting two and two
+together, and have found out the nature of that quality which you
+mistake for intelligence; its true name is 'low cunning.' Every fresh
+piece of absurdity which you have told me touching the tricks of your
+queer creatures has supplied new evidence of this. Your creatures were
+to feed upon the substance of the 'world' on which they lived, and, ever
+increasing in numbers, would logically in course of time find there was
+not a mouthful apiece. I think we agreed about that? Well, let us
+consider that period, some time before the creatures should actually
+become exterminated by the natural evolution of events--the time when
+all the eatable products of their world would be growing scarce. You
+went so far as to imagine a great many products----"
+
+"Yes!" said James, gazing afar off in the absorption of his imagination.
+"Yes--there were eggs, and oysters, and poultry, and mushrooms, and----"
+
+"Ah!--the very things I've been reflecting about. Well, I've been
+dreaming that, at the period of which I speak, when all the commodities
+were becoming scarce, your human beings would agree to make poisonous
+artificial articles of consumption with which to poison themselves by
+degrees, and thus reduce the population to convenient limits."
+
+"No!" cried James, pondering deeply. "Their idea would be to poison not
+_themselves_, but _each other_!"
+
+[Illustration: "POISON."]
+
+"Ah! I see. Then they would make some sort of effort to prevent
+themselves being poisoned?"
+
+"Oh, yes; they would pass Adulteration Acts for the purpose."
+
+"I see; and any creature who did not wish to be poisoned could take
+advantage of these Acts to protect himself?"
+
+"Certainly. The Acts would be very stringent. Let us suppose, for
+example, that a certain man suspected that the butter supplied to him
+was not butter at all, but a deleterious compound--well, all he would
+have to do would be to go to the shop, accompanied by a guardian of the
+peace, and, standing on one leg, with both hands on the counter and one
+eye shut, order a pound of the butter in certain words prescribed by the
+Act. He would then say to the tradesman, 'I am about to divide this
+pound of butter into three equal portions for the purposes of analysis';
+and, taking the butter-man's knife in his left hand, and passing it to
+his right, would cut the butter into three portions exactly equal.
+
+"After this, hermetically sealing the three portions in three jars
+provided for the purpose, he would hand one jar to the tradesman, the
+second to the guardian of the peace, and retain the third. Then he would
+bring an action; and (provided that all the conditions had been
+accurately fulfilled, without the slightest flaw) the erring tradesman
+would be told by the Court not to do it again; while the complainant
+would have to pay all costs, and possibly a fine; and would be sneered
+at by the magistrate as a fussy idiot and a common informer.
+
+"If, on the other hand, the complainant should omit to secure the
+company of a custodian of the peace, or fail to stand on one leg with
+both hands on the counter, or take the knife in his right hand first, or
+should leave out the prescribed words, or blink his eye, or stammer, or
+sneeze, or in any other way fail to observe the regulations of the Act;
+he would, of course, have no case or remedy. The Adulteration Acts would
+be extremely stringent----"
+
+"Against the victim of adulteration?"
+
+"Ye--es," murmured James, a little nonplussed.
+
+[Illustration: "THE SHOP."]
+
+"Ah--well, then, I think we can afford to ignore these Adulteration
+Acts--like the adulterators and the public authorities would--and
+proceed with the question of the adulteration. I had a most vivid vision
+or dream of the details of this adulteration as they would be carried
+out on your world at the period we are now considering. I imagined that
+I was actually in a part of your world called 'America,' and that one of
+your human beings politely invited me to walk through his factory and
+see how things were made. I think you mentioned 'oysters'----"
+
+[Illustration: "NO CASE."]
+
+"Yes," said James, "that's one name the article of food would possess;
+newspaper writers, however, would not recognise them by that name--they
+would only know them as 'the succulent bivalve.'"
+
+"The very idea!" exclaimed William. "That's exactly what I seemed to
+have become--a newspaper writer. I fancied I went to see the factory,
+and then sent in the following account:--
+
+"One of the most interesting factories in America is the stately
+building of the Ephraim Q. Knickerbocker Natural Products Manufacturing
+Corporation, of Spread Eagle Springs, N.J. That the structure is itself
+an imposing one may well be imagined in view of the vast productive
+energy expended within its walls; and the feebleness and inefficiency of
+the productive operations of Nature are never so fully realized as after
+a visit to this marvellous factory, and a comparison of the two systems.
+
+"It was, therefore, with no little satisfaction that we lately received
+a courteous invitation from the able and energetic managing director
+General Sardanapalus J. Van Biene to inspect the operations of the
+Corporation at its factory. Accordingly, we proceeded to the New York
+terminus of the Natural Products Manufacturing Corporation's New York,
+Sumner Ferry, Thanksgiving Flats, and Spread Eagle Springs Railroad,
+along which a special train speedily whirled us to the front door of the
+works. On the steps stood the genial managing director, supported by the
+principal manager Colonel Exodus V. Rooster, the head chemist Major
+Madison B. Jefferson, and the assistant chemists Judge Vansittart J.
+Sumner and Admiral Hudson W. Killigrew.
+
+"They received us with open arms, and, after entertaining us at a
+_recherché_ lunch, conducted us to the chemistry and analysis section
+occupying a little over seventeen acres and employing a permanent staff
+of thirteen thousand four hundred and thirty-two, assistants, among whom
+are chemists, microscopists, sub-inventors, etc., etc. There it is that
+the productive operations of Nature are studied and improved upon.
+
+"'You must not imagine that we have any kind of sympathy or admiration
+for Nature's system,' explained General S. J. Van Biene, hastening to
+sweep away any false impression which we might have formed.
+
+[Illustration: "THEY RECEIVED US WITH OPEN ARMS."]
+
+"'On the contrary, we just entirely despise her and her ways, and should
+have discarded her way back but for the prejudices of the consuming
+public. It's just like this--the consumers still believe in natural
+products, and so we have to go on reproducing them instead of starting
+right away on our own lines and bringing out new and original
+commodities far in advance of anything Nature can do. How we're
+stultified you'll see as we work through. We just have to copy, anyway,
+in place of originating. We make oysters, for example. Now quite a while
+ago, our head chemist Major Madison B. Jefferson invented a new edible
+way, finer in every essential than the oyster; but the consumers
+wouldn't have it: they shied at it, and declared it wasn't wholesome;
+and we had the whole stock on our hands, and had to vat it down again,
+and recolour it, and make tomatoes of it. Then they took it down and
+just chaired it round. Of course, we have to say we _grow_ the
+products--that's another effect of popular prejudice; if we had said we
+made those tomatoes, the public would have started right off again, and
+talked of "adulteration," although our tomatoes whip Nature's by 50 per
+cent, in all the elements of nutrition and flavour. Just taste this
+one.'
+
+"We hesitated, and the director, perceiving it, promptly consumed
+another from the same case. Thus reassured, we ventured to nibble at the
+artificial vegetable, and found it excellent in every respect--decidedly
+superior to the natural product, as he had stated.
+
+"'But,' we asked, 'do you not suffer considerable losses when these
+products--necessarily perishable in the natural course of things--begin
+to decay?'
+
+[Illustration: "JUST TASTE THIS ONE."]
+
+"'That's just another point where we show our superiority to Nature.
+_Our_ products _don't_ decay; on the contrary, they improve by keeping.
+Here is a tomato seven years old,' he continued, taking down another
+case. 'Try it.'
+
+"We did. The other was not to be compared with it. The older tomato had
+matured and mellowed, the skin having a finer colour and lovelier gloss,
+the flesh possessing a firmer body and more delicate flavour; it was far
+in advance of any tomato we had ever conceived.
+
+"'Wonderful!' we exclaimed.
+
+"'A very simple matter,' said the director. 'All that is required is a
+thorough mastery of chemistry. In all our goods we employ a special
+patent preservative of our own, which is naturally a secret. We
+calculate it to be worth one hundred and fifty quadrillions of dollars.
+
+"'But let us show you how we make oysters! See, these are the tanks
+which contain the mixture--the compound which forms the body of the
+bivalve. This tank contains the beard-mixture; and this one the
+gristle.'
+
+"'And what are the principal ingredients?'
+
+"'Glue, made from horses' heels. This is a very important factor in our
+products. This glue, after undergoing a peculiar treatment which
+prevents its hardening and losing its elasticity in the course of years,
+is flavoured and coloured in various ways. This great tank contains the
+composition for the internal parts of the oyster--nearly black, you
+perceive; that tank over there contains the compound for the flesh that
+covers the internal parts; that tank farther along holds the beard
+mixture; and the one beyond that the gristle which attaches the oyster
+to the shell. First, the flesh of the oyster is run into moulds, each
+oyster being in two parts; then the inside of the animal is run into
+another mould, and the two halves of the body are automatically placed
+around it and cemented together.
+
+"'Meanwhile the beards have been rolled, stamped, frilled, and coloured
+along the edge by special automatic machinery. The body of the oyster
+then passes to the fixing-up room, where the beard is cemented to it by
+hand, and finishing touches of colour added; and then it passes along
+and has the gristle attached: and the oyster itself is complete.'
+
+[Illustration: The Oyster Factory Affixing the Beards.]
+
+"'But it wants a shell!'
+
+"'Just so. As far as the supply will go, we buy up old shells from
+dustyards and use them; but most of them are damaged by previous
+opening, so we make the bulk of our shells, and they're a good deal more
+natural than the real ones. They're made of lime.'
+
+"'All alike?'
+
+"'Not in the least. You see, we have some thousands of moulds, every one
+differing slightly from the rest. There's a special department for
+hingeing the two shells together. We had some trouble to find a
+substance for the hinge; but at last one of our chemists hit on a way of
+subjecting old hide-scraps to a peculiar process, and that did the
+thing. The mother-of-pearl is made of a sort of soft glass, somewhat
+after the appearance of Venetian glass, and put on the shell hot.
+Lastly, the oyster is attached to the shells by its cartilage; a little
+liquor is put in, and the shells are closed up.'
+
+"'But surely people must observe that they are not alive?' we said. 'For
+instance, they can't open their shells!'
+
+"'That's just where you're astray,' replied the General. 'Owing to the
+mechanical action of salt upon the composition of the cartilage, the
+oyster opens when placed in salt water. Iron, however, exercises an
+electro-magnetic influence upon the composition forming the body of the
+bivalve, causing a sudden contraction--so that, on a knife being
+introduced into the shell, the latter closes in the most natural way. We
+manufacture pearls on the premises, and advertise that one oyster in
+every gross taken from our beds contains a pearl of more or less value;
+and there's a greater demand for our oysters than for any others in the
+world. Our oyster beds are way down along the coast, about ten miles
+off; and are inspected by thousands yearly. Taste this egg.'
+
+[Illustration: The Pearl.]
+
+"He took up a fine specimen of a new-laid egg, and proceeded to break it
+into a glass. It was a delightful egg. 'That's our latest pattern of
+egg,' explained the General, 'You perceive that it has three lines
+around it, where the substance of the shell is weaker than elsewhere;
+the lines near each end enable a person about to consume the egg in a
+boiled state to easily cut off the top or bottom with a knife, or run
+his nail around it; while the line about the middle greatly assists
+cooks in breaking it into a basin. There is also a thin spot at either
+end, to facilitate sucking. These eggs are always new-laid; we send tons
+to Europe, particularly to Great Britain, where ours are the only fresh
+eggs they ever get.'
+
+[Illustration: The London Egg]
+
+"'But you must find some difficulty in making an egg?'
+
+"'Just as easy as smiling. The white is simply jelly-fish subjected to a
+chemical process--jelly-fish aren't costly. This tank is full of the
+liquor. The main ingredient of the yolk is the horse-heel glue mentioned
+before; we also boil down vast quantities of rats--they come cheap, too;
+it's only the cost of catching them; and then there's a vegetable
+colouring, and the preservative, and a few other trifles. First, the two
+halves of the white are made in two moulds, and frozen; then the two
+frozen halves are frozen together, and the yolk-mixture poured in
+through a small hole, which is then closed. Then comes the skin; and
+that is the most expensive part, for it contains a certain quantity of
+rubber. We have tried in vain to find a substitute for rubber, but
+failed hitherto. The rubber is mixed with a gum from a South American
+tree, and the mixture is applied with a brush over the frozen egg; and
+then the egg, still frozen, is dipped in a lime composition very nearly
+identical with the oyster-shell mixture; and, lastly, the whole thing is
+passed through the finishing machine, which turns the three thin lines
+and the two thin spots, imitates the pores of the shell, and delivers
+the finished egg to the warehouse.'
+
+"'Marvellous!' we involuntarily exclaimed.
+
+"'Oh, that's nothing at all,' said the director. 'We're meditating
+turning out eggs that will hatch and become fowls. At present we have to
+manufacture fowls; but we calculate to make a great saving by producing
+them from the eggs we make. That building over yonder is the terrapin
+factory; we turn out eleven tons of terrapin weekly. We make clams, of
+course--in the oyster department. In this next house we make kidneys and
+sweetbreads. Fruit? Oh, yes, we turn out masses of fruit; peaches pay
+best, but we do very well with nuts.'
+
+"We were then conducted to the show-room, where we tasted a number of
+other products of the wonderful factory; and we had just said a grateful
+farewell to our courteous guide, when we were seized with pains of the
+most acute description.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: The Pain.]
+
+"The arrangements of the hospital were admirable. The kindliness and
+attention we received made our five years' sojourn there a time to look
+back upon with feelings of gratitude. We are assured that, with strict
+diet and unremitting care, we may last some time yet--possibly even
+three months."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"It was a marvellous vision," said James, fervently, as the voice of
+William ceased. "Surely after that you must think better of those beings
+of mine?"
+
+But William merely sniffed.
+
+                              J. F. SULLIVAN.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A TURNIP RESEMBLING A HUMAN HAND.]
+
+The above photographs represent two views of an extraordinary turnip
+grown by Alderman David Evans, Llangennech Park, Carmarthenshire. We are
+indebted for the photographs to Mr. Morgan W. James, of Llanelly.
+
+
+[Illustration: A ROOM PAPERED WITH STAMPS.]
+
+The above photograph represents the study of Mr. C. Whitfield King, of
+Morpeth House, Ipswich, which he has papered with 44,068 _unused_
+foreign postage stamps, bearing the value of £699 16s. 9d., and
+containing 48 varieties of different sizes and colours, presenting an
+example of mosaic work which is altogether unique of its kind.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: Drinking]
+
+[Illustration: VESSELS OF ALL]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A CROCODILE STORY.]
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue
+27, March 1893, by Various
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30222 ***
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue 27,
+March 1893, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue 27, March 1893
+       An Illustrated Monthly
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: George Newnes
+
+Release Date: October 9, 2009 [EBook #30222]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STRAND MAGAZINE, MARCH 1893 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Victorian/Edwardian Pictorial Magazines,
+Jonathan Ingram, Josephine Paolucci and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+STRAND MAGAZINE
+
+_An Illustrated Monthly_
+
+Vol. 5, Issue. 27.
+
+March 1893
+
+
+[Illustration: "BY HEAVEN," CRIED RUY LOPEZ, "THE DUKE SHALL FINISH HIS
+GAME!"
+
+(_A Game of Chess_.)]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+A GAME of CHESS.
+
+FROM THE FRENCH.
+
+
+I.
+
+King Phillip II. was playing at chess in the Escurial Palace. His
+opponent was Ruy Lopez, a humble priest, but a chess player of great
+skill. Being the King's particular favourite, the great player was
+permitted to kneel upon a brocaded cushion, whilst the courtiers grouped
+about the King were forced to remain standing in constrained and painful
+attitudes.
+
+It was a magnificent morning. The air was perfumed with the orange
+groves, and the violet curtains of the splendid hall hardly softened the
+burning rays which streamed in through the windows. The blaze of living
+light seemed scarcely in harmony with the King's gloomy countenance. His
+brow was black as night, and from time to time he bent his eyes
+impatiently upon the door. The nobles stood in silence, darting meaning
+glances at each other. It was easily to be discerned that some event of
+great importance weighed upon the spirits of the assembly. No one paid
+any attention to the chess-board except Ruy Lopez, who, as he moved the
+pieces, hesitated between the temptation of checkmating his opponent and
+the deference due to his King. The silence was unbroken except by the
+sound made by the players moving their pieces.
+
+Suddenly the door opened, and a man of rude and savage aspect advanced
+into the hall, and, presenting himself before the King, stood waiting
+his commands to speak. This man's appearance was anything but
+prepossessing, and on his entrance the nobles, as if animated with one
+thought, shrank back with contempt and loathing, as if some unclean
+animal had entered into their midst. His massive, herculean figure was
+clad in a doublet of black leather, and his face, in which could be seen
+no trace of intelligence, expressed, on the contrary, nothing but
+vileness and villainy; a great scar, running right across his face and
+losing itself in a bushy beard, added still further to the natural
+brutality of his countenance.
+
+An electric thrill ran through the assembly. The new comer was Fernando
+Calavar, high executioner of Spain.
+
+"Is he dead?" asked the King, in an imperious tone.
+
+"No, sire," replied Calavar, bowing low.
+
+The King frowned.
+
+"Great Sovereign of Spain," Calavar continued, "the prisoner has claimed
+his privileges, and I cannot take proceedings against a man whose blood
+belongs to the noblest in Spain, without having a more imperative order
+from your Majesty," and he bowed again.
+
+The nobles, who had listened with great attention to these words, broke
+into a murmur of approbation as the man finished speaking. The proud
+Castilian blood rushed like a stream of lava through their veins, and
+dyed their faces crimson. The manifestation became general. Young Alonza
+D'Ossuna openly asserted his opinion by putting on his plumed cap. His
+bold example was followed by the majority of the nobles, and their lofty
+nodding crests seemed to proclaim with defiance that their masters
+protested in favour of the privilege, which the hidalgos of Spain have
+always enjoyed, of covering their heads before their Sovereign.
+
+The King gave a furious start, and striking his fist violently upon the
+chess-board, scattered the chessmen in all directions.
+
+"He has been judged by our Royal Court of Justice," he cried, "and
+condemned to death. What does the traitor demand?"
+
+"Sire!" replied the executioner, "he asks permission to die upon the
+block, and also to pass the three last hours of his life with a priest."
+
+"Ah, that is granted!" replied Philip, in a tone of relief. "Is not our
+confessor in the prison according to our orders?"
+
+"Yes, sire!" said Calavar, "the holy man is there; but the Duke refuses
+to see St. Diaz de Silva. He says he cannot receive absolution from
+anyone below the dignity of a Bishop. Such is the privilege of a noble
+condemned to death for high treason."
+
+"Yes, these are our rights!" boldly interrupted the fiery D'Ossuna; "and
+we claim from the King our cousin's privileges."
+
+This demand acted as a signal.
+
+"Our rights and the King's justice are inseparable," cried Don Diego de
+Tarraxas, Count of Valence, an old man of gigantic stature, clothed in
+armour, holding in his hands the bâton of Great Constable of Spain, and
+leaning upon his long Toledo blade.
+
+"Our rights and our privileges!" cried the nobles, repeating the words
+like an echo. Their audacity made the King start with fury from his
+ebony throne.
+
+"By the bones of Campeador!" he cried. "By the soul of St. Jago! I have
+sworn neither to eat nor sleep until the bleeding head of Don Gusman
+lies before me. As I have sworn, so shall it be. But Don Tarraxas has
+said well, 'The King's justice confirms his subjects' rights.' My Lord
+Constable, where does the nearest Bishop reside?"
+
+"Sire, I have more to do with camp than with the Church," the Constable
+replied, somewhat abruptly. "Your Majesty's chaplain, Don Silvas, is
+present: he can tell you better than I."
+
+Don Silvas began to speak in trepidation.
+
+[Illustration: "WHAT DOES THE TRAITOR DEMAND?"]
+
+"Sire," he said, humbly, "the Bishop of Segovia is an official of the
+King, but he who filled the duty died last week, and the parchment which
+names his successor is still upon the Council table, and is yet to be
+submitted to the Pope's seal."
+
+At these words a joyous smile hovered about D'Ossuna's lips. This joy
+was but natural, for the young man was of the blood of the Gusmans, and
+his cousin, the condemned prisoner, was his dearest friend. The King
+perceived the smile, and his eye shot forth lightning.
+
+"We are the King!" he said, gravely, with the calm which presages a
+storm; "our Royal person must be no butt for raillery. This sceptre
+appears light, my lords, but he who ridicules it shall be crushed
+thereby as with a block of iron. I believe that our holy father the Pope
+is somewhat indebted to us, so that we do not fear his displeasure at
+the step which we are about to take. Since the King of Spain can make a
+Prince, he can also make a Bishop. Rise, then, Don Ruy Lopez. I create
+you Bishop of Segovia. Rise, I command you, and take your rank in the
+Church."
+
+The courtiers stood dumfounded.
+
+Don Ruy Lopez rose mechanically. His head was whirling, and he stammered
+as he strove to speak.
+
+"If your Majesty pleases----" he began.
+
+"Silence, my Lord Bishop!" replied the King. "Obey your Sovereign. The
+formalities of your installation shall be performed another day; our
+subjects will not fail to acknowledge our wishes in this affair. Bishop
+of Segovia, go with Calavar to the condemned man's cell. Give absolution
+to his soul, and in three hours leave his body to the executioner's axe.
+As for you, Calavar, I will await you here; you will bring us the
+traitor's head. Let justice be accomplished."
+
+Then Philip turned to Ruy Lopez.
+
+"I give you my signet ring," he said, "to show the Duke as a token of
+the truth of your story."
+
+The executioner left the chamber, followed by Ruy Lopez.
+
+"Well, gentlemen," said the King, turning to the others, "do you still
+doubt the King's justice?"
+
+But the nobles answered not a word.
+
+The King, having taken his seat, made a sign to one of his favourites to
+place himself before the chess-board, and Don Ramirez, Count of Biscay,
+accordingly knelt down upon the velvet cushion.
+
+"With a game of chess, gentlemen," said the King, smiling, "and your
+company, I cannot fail to make the time pass agreeably. Let no one leave
+the chamber until Calavar's return. We cannot spare a single one of
+you."
+
+With these ironical words, Philip commenced a game with Don Ramirez,
+whilst the nobles, almost dropping with fatigue, resumed the positions
+about their august master which they had occupied at the beginning of
+this story.
+
+
+II.
+
+Calavar, leading the way, conducted the new Bishop to the condemned
+man's cell. Ruy Lopez walked like one in a dream. Was he awake, or not?
+He hardly knew. At the bottom of his heart he cursed the King and his
+Court. He understood perfectly that he had become Bishop of Segovia, but
+he felt deeply at what a price he had bought his dignity. What had Don
+Gusman done that he should be thus sacrificed? Don Gusman, the best
+chess player in Spain! He thought of all this as he proceeded over the
+marble flags which led to the State prison, and as he thought he prayed
+that the ground would open and swallow him up.
+
+Don Gusman was pacing impatiently up and down his narrow cell with a
+hurried step that betrayed the feverish anxiety of his mind. The cell
+was furnished with a massive table and two heavy wooden stools, the
+floor being covered with coarse, thick mats. Shut out from all the
+noises of the outer world, here silence reigned supreme. A crucifix,
+roughly carved, was fixed to the wall in the niche of a high window,
+which was carefully barred with iron. Except for this image of
+resignation and mercy, the walls were bare. Well might this dungeon
+serve as antechamber to the tomb.
+
+As Ruy Lopez entered the cell a sudden burst of sunshine flooded the
+walls as if in bitter mockery of him who was soon to see it no more.
+
+The Duke saluted the new Bishop with great courtesy. They regarded each
+other, and exchanged in that look a thousand words which they alone
+could understand. Ruy Lopez felt the painfulness of his position deeply,
+and the Duke understood his embarrassment. Their thoughts were both the
+same, that in the condemnation of one of the principal favourites of the
+King an innocent life was threatened! The proofs of the crime imputed to
+the Duke were grave; the most important being a despatch written in Don
+Gusman's hand to the French Court, in which he unfolded a scheme for
+assassinating Philip II. This had sufficed to condemn him.
+
+Don Gusman, strong in his innocence, had kept a rigorous silence when
+brought before his judges, and the accusation not being denied,
+sentence of death was passed upon him. Don Gusman since his
+incarceration had not altered. He had braved the storm, and looked upon
+death with an unmoved countenance. His last hours had no terrors for
+him. If his forehead was overshadowed, if his steps were agitated and
+his breathing hurried, it was because there rose before his eye the
+image of his betrothed, Dona Estella, who, ignorant of her lover's fate,
+was waiting for him in her battlemented castle on the banks of the
+Guadalquiver. If he felt weak at this fatal moment, and if a pang shot
+through his heart, it was because his thoughts were of her who was to
+him the dearest thing in all the world.
+
+[Illustration: "RUY LOPEZ ENTERED THE CELL."]
+
+Ruy Lopez had not entered alone. Calavar was at his side; and it was he
+who announced to the Duke the King's decision and reply. Ruy Lopez
+confirmed the executioner's words, and the Duke, falling on his knees
+before the new Bishop, asked his blessing, then turning to Calavar with
+a gesture of authority, he dismissed him, saying:--
+
+"In three hours I shall be at your disposal."
+
+Calavar obeyed him and went out, and the Duke and Bishop were left
+alone.
+
+Ruy Lopez was trembling with nervousness, whilst Don Gusman's face wore
+a calm and serene expression. He took the Bishop's hand, and wrung it
+warmly. There was a pause. The Duke was the first to break the silence.
+
+"We have met before in happier circumstances," he said, smiling.
+
+"It is true," stammered Ruy Lopez, who, pale and agitated, resembled
+rather the penitent than the confessor.
+
+"Much happier," repeated the Duke, absently. "Do you remember, when you
+played your celebrated game of chess with Paoli Boy, the Sicilian, in
+the presence of the King and Court, that it was upon my right arm that
+the King leant?" Then after a pause he continued: "Do you remember also,
+father, those words of Cervantes, 'Life is a game of chess?' I have
+forgotten the exact place in which the passage occurs, but its meaning
+is, that upon earth men play different rôles. There are, as in chess,
+kings, knights, soldiers, bishops, according to their birth, fate and
+fortune; and when the game is over death lays them all as equals in the
+tomb, even as we gather together the chessmen into a box."
+
+"Yes, I remember those words of Don Quixote," replied Don Lopez,
+astonished at this singular conversation, "and I remember also Sancho's
+reply: 'That however good the comparison was, it was not so new that he
+had not heard it before.'"
+
+"I was your favourite pupil, even your rival," said the Duke, without
+appearing to hear Don Lopez.
+
+"It is true," cried the Bishop. "You are a great master of the game, and
+I have been often proud of having such a pupil. But now, on your knees,
+my son."
+
+They knelt down together, and there before the crucifix Don Gusman made
+confession to Ruy Lopez, who as he listened could hardly restrain his
+tears.
+
+When the Duke had finished, two hours after--for the confession under
+the Church seal was long and touching--the Bishop blessed the prisoner,
+and gave him absolution. The face of Don Gusman, as he rose, was calm
+and resigned.
+
+[Illustration: "THEY KNELT DOWN TOGETHER."]
+
+But there remained still an hour to wait.
+
+"This delay is torture," cried the Duke. "Why do they not cut off the
+prisoners at once, instead of stretching their souls upon such a rack of
+agony? An eternity of suffering is in each of these minutes." And the
+prisoner began to walk impatiently to and fro, with his eyes constantly
+bent upon the door. The Duke's firmness was shaken by the thought of
+that weary hour of waiting. Ruy Lopez had fulfilled his duty. The
+prisoner's soul was purified, and now the priest could become the
+friend.
+
+As Don Lopez heard Don Gusman utter this exclamation, and saw his face
+grow white, he understood what agony he was undergoing, and felt at once
+that something must be done to divert his thoughts. But in vain he
+racked his brain for an idea. He could think of nothing. What could he
+propose to a man about to die? For such as he, the flower has no longer
+perfume, woman has no longer beauty. Then suddenly a thought flashed
+across his brain.
+
+"How would a game of chess--" he began, timidly.
+
+"An excellent idea!" cried Don Gusman, recalled to himself by this
+singular proposal. "A farewell game of chess."
+
+"You consent?"
+
+"Most readily; but where are the chessmen, my friend?"
+
+"Am I not always provided with the instruments of war?" said Ruy Lopez,
+smiling. Then he pulled forward the two stools and set out upon the
+table a microscopic set of chessmen. "Our Lady pardon me!" he continued.
+"I often pass my spare time in the confessional in working out some
+problem."
+
+The chessmen being set out, the players took their seats, and were soon
+absorbed in the excitement of the game.
+
+This strange contest, between a priest and a condemned prisoner, made a
+picture worthy of the brush of Rembrandt or Salvator Rosa. The light
+which streamed from the arched windows fell upon the pale, noble
+features of Don Gusman, and upon the venerable head of Ruy Lopez.
+
+The emotions of the two players were very different. Ruy Lopez played
+with a preoccupation which was not usual to him, and which rendered him
+much inferior to his ordinary strength. Don Gusman, on the contrary,
+stimulated by excitement, played with more than his ordinary skill. At
+this moment his noble Castilian blood did not fail him, for never had
+the Duke given better proof of the clearness of his mind. Such a flash
+of intellect must be compared to the last flickers of the failing lamp,
+or to the last song of the dying swan.
+
+Don Gusman suddenly attacked his adversary with an impetuosity which
+nearly gained him a certain victory; but Ruy Lopez, recalled to himself
+by this vigorous effort, defended himself bravely. The game became more
+and more complicated. The Bishop strove to gain a mate which he saw, or
+believed he saw, at hand, whilst Don Gusman played with the eagerness of
+certain victory. Everything was forgotten, and time passed unnoticed.
+The chess-board was their universe, and a life of anxiety was in each
+move.
+
+The minutes, the quarters, the half-hours flew by, and the fatal hour
+arrived at last.
+
+A distant sound struck on their ears; it grew nearer, it increased, and
+the door swinging open gave admittance to Calavar and his assistants,
+who advanced into the cell with torches in their hands. They were armed
+with swords, and two of them bore the block, covered with a black cloth,
+on which lay an axe.
+
+[Illustration: "THE GAME BECAME MORE AND MORE COMPLICATED."]
+
+The torches were placed in the receptacle prepared for them, whilst one
+of the men scattered cedar sawdust on the floor. All this was the work
+of a moment, while the executioner stood waiting for the prisoner.
+
+As Calavar entered, Ruy Lopez started to his feet, in a tremor of alarm,
+but the Duke did not move. His eyes were fixed upon the chess-board. It
+was his turn to play. Calavar, seeing his abstracted gaze, advanced to
+the Duke's side and placed his hand upon his shoulder.
+
+"Come," he said.
+
+The prisoner shuddered as if he had trodden upon a serpent.
+
+"I must finish this game," he said, imperiously.
+
+"It is impossible," Calavar replied.
+
+"But, fellow, the game is mine! I can force mate in a few moves. Let me
+play it out."
+
+"I cannot. It is impossible," repeated the executioner.
+
+"Are the three hours gone already?"
+
+"The last stroke has just struck. We must obey the King."
+
+The assistants, who had until then stood leaning on their swords, came
+forward at these words.
+
+The Duke was sitting against the wall, under the high window, with the
+table between him and Calavar. He started to his feet.
+
+"I shall not move until the game is over. In half an hour my head shall
+be at your disposal."
+
+"My lord," replied Calavar, "I respect you deeply, but I cannot grant
+you this request. I answer for your life with mine."
+
+Don Gusman made a gesture of impatience, and pulling off his diamond
+rings, he threw them at the executioner's feet. "I mean to finish the
+game," he said, carelessly.
+
+The jewels sparkled as they rolled and settled in the dust.
+
+"My orders are imperative," cried Calavar, "and you must pardon us,
+noble Duke, if we have to use force; but the King's orders and the law
+of Spain must be carried out. Obey, then, and do not waste your last
+moments in a useless struggle. Speak to the Duke, my lord Bishop. Tell
+him to submit to his fate."
+
+Ruy Lopez's reply was as prompt as it was decisive. He seized the axe
+which lay upon the block and swung it with both hands above his head.
+
+"By Heaven!" he cried, "the Duke _shall_ finish his game!"
+
+Scared by the gesture which accompanied these words, Calavar drew back
+in such a fright that he stumbled and fell back on his companions. The
+swords flashed from their scabbards, and the band prepared for attack.
+But Ruy Lopez, who appeared to have put forth the strength of a
+Hercules, cast upon the ground his heavy wooden stool.
+
+"The first of you who passes this limit dies!" he cried in a loud voice.
+"Courage, Duke!--to the attack! There are only four of these miscreants.
+The last desire of your Grace shall be gratified, were I to lose my life
+in the attempt. And you, wretched man, beware how you lay a finger upon
+a Bishop of the Church. Down with your swords and respect the Lord's
+anointed!" And Ruy Lopez continued to hurl forth, in a jargon of
+Spanish and Latin, one of those formulas of excommunication and
+malediction which at that period acted so strongly upon the masses of
+the people.
+
+The effect was prompt. The men stood rooted to the spot with terror,
+whilst Calavar, thinking that to kill a Bishop without a sealed order
+from the King was to run the risk of putting his life in jeopardy in
+this world and his soul in the next, avowed himself vanquished. He knew
+not what to do next. To rush with the news to the King, who was waiting
+impatiently for Don Gusman's head, was only to expose himself. To attack
+the prisoner and the priest would be too hazardous, for Ruy Lopez was a
+man of no mean strength. The position of affairs was critical. At last
+he decided to take the easiest way out of the difficulty--to wait.
+
+"Will you promise me faithfully to give yourself up in half an hour?" he
+demanded of Don Gusman.
+
+"I promise," replied the Duke.
+
+"Play on, then," said the executioner.
+
+The truce being thus concluded, the players returned to their seats and
+their game, whilst Calavar and his companions, forming themselves into a
+circle, stationed themselves round the two players. Calavar, who was
+himself a chess player, looked on with interest, and could not prevent
+himself from involuntarily considering each move the players made.
+
+Don Gusman looked up for an instant upon the circle of faces which
+surrounded him, but his _sang froid_ did not abandon him.
+
+"Never have I played in the presence of such a noble company!" he cried.
+"Bear witness, rascals, that at least once in my life I have beaten Don
+Lopez." Then he returned to the game with a smile upon his lips. The
+Bishop gripped the handle of the axe which he still held in his hand.
+
+"If I were only sure of escaping from this tigers' den," he thought, "I
+would break every head of the four of them."
+
+
+III.
+
+If three hours had dragged in the prisoner's cell, they had not passed
+more quickly in the Royal chamber of King Philip.
+
+The King had finished his game with Don Ramirez de Biscay, and the
+nobles, still compelled from etiquette to remain standing, appeared
+almost ready to drop with fatigue, rendered still more painful from the
+weight of their armour.
+
+Don Tarraxas stood motionless, with closed eyes like one of those iron
+figures which ornamented the castles of the savage Goths. Young
+D'Ossuna, with drooping head, stood propped against a marble pillar,
+whilst King Philip strode impatiently about the apartment, only stopping
+at intervals to listen to some imaginary noise. According to the
+superstitious custom of the age, the King knelt for a few moments at the
+foot of a figure of the Virgin placed upon a porphyry pedestal to pray
+the Madonna to pardon him the deed of blood which was about to take
+place. Silence reigned, for no one, whatever his rank might be, dared to
+speak before his Sovereign without his commands.
+
+As the King's eyes saw the last grain of sand fall in the hour-glass he
+uttered an exclamation of joy.
+
+"The traitor dies!" he cried.
+
+An almost inaudible murmur ran through the assembly.
+
+"The hour is passed, Count of Biscay," said Philip, turning to Don
+Ramirez, "and with it your enemy."
+
+"My enemy, sire?" asked Ramirez, affecting surprise.
+
+"Why do you repeat my words, Count?" replied the King. "Were you not a
+rival to Don Gusman in the affections of Dona Estella, and can rivals be
+friends? Dona Estella shall be yours. This young girl will bring you her
+beauty and her fortune. I have not spoken of this to our Council, but my
+Royal word is pledged. If the ingratitude of Sovereigns is ever spoken
+of before you, Count, you will be able to reply that we did not forget
+the true friend of the King and of Spain who discovered the plot and the
+correspondence of Don Gusman with France."
+
+Don Ramirez de Biscay seemed to listen to the King with uneasiness. He
+kept his eyes fixed upon the ground, as if he disliked to be thus
+praised in public. Then he made an effort to reply.
+
+"Sire!" he said, "it was with great repugnance that I fulfilled such a
+painful duty"--he hesitated, and then was silent.
+
+Tarraxas gave a slight start, whilst D'Ossuna struck sharply the pommel
+of his sword with his iron glove.
+
+"Before Dona Estella shall belong to this man," thought D'Ossuna, "I
+will have vengeance or perish in the attempt. Tomorrow shall be the day
+of my revenge."
+
+The King continued:--
+
+"Your zeal, Don Ramirez, and your devotion must be rewarded. The saviour
+of our throne, and perhaps of our dynasty, merits a particular gift.
+This morning I ordered you to make out some _lettres-patentes_, which
+confer upon you the rank of Duke and Governor of Valence. Are these
+ready to be signed?"
+
+Don Ramirez grew pale with pleasure. He shook like an aspen and his eyes
+grew dim. But the King made an impatient movement, and the Count,
+drawing a roll of parchment hastily from his breast, presented it on his
+knees to the King.
+
+"My first public duty to-day shall be to sign these papers," said the
+King. "The executioner has already punished treason; it is now time for
+the King to recompense fidelity."
+
+The King unrolled the parchment and began to read. As he read, his face
+became convulsed with fury, and his eyes shot forth flames of wrath.
+
+"By my father's soul!" he shouted; "what do I behold?"
+
+
+IV.
+
+The game of chess was finished. Don Gusman had beaten Ruy Lopez, and his
+triumph was complete. He rose to his feet.
+
+"I am now, as ever, ready to obey the wishes of my King," he said to
+Calavar.
+
+The executioner understood him, and began to prepare the block. Whilst
+this was being done Don Gusman advanced towards the crucifix, and said
+in a firm voice:--
+
+"Oh, Heaven! may this unjust and rash act which is about to take place
+fall upon the head of him who is the instigator of this treachery; but
+let not my blood recoil upon the head of my King."
+
+[Illustration: "WHAT DO I BEHOLD?"]
+
+Ruy Lopez, crouching in a corner of the cell, and burying his face in
+his mantle, began to recite the prayers for the dying.
+
+Calavar approached Don Gusman, and putting his hand upon the Duke's
+shoulder began to loosen his ruff. Don Gusman shrank back from the
+contact.
+
+"Nothing that belongs to you, except this axe, shall touch a Gusman," he
+said, taking off his ruff himself and placing his head upon the block.
+"Strike!" he added, "I am ready!"
+
+The executioner raised the axe--the King's justice was at last to be
+satisfied, when shouts, rapid footsteps and confused voices arrested the
+sweep of the executioner's arm.
+
+The door gave way under the united efforts of a troop of armed men, and
+D'Ossuna, rushing into the cell, threw himself between the executioner
+and his victim. He was just in time.
+
+"He lives!" cried Tarraxas.
+
+"He is saved!" repeated D'Ossuna. "My beloved cousin, I never hoped to
+have seen you alive again. God in His mercy has not let the innocent
+perish for the guilty. God be praised!"
+
+"God be praised!" echoed all the spectators, and louder than the rest
+rang out the voice of Ruy Lopez.
+
+"You have arrived in time, my friend," said Don Gusman to his cousin;
+"but now I shall have no longer strength to die," and he sank back
+fainting on the block. The shock had been too much for him.
+
+Ruy Lopez seized the Duke in his arms, and, followed by all the nobles,
+bore him along the passages to the King's apartment. When Don Gusman
+opened his eyes he found himself in the midst of a circle of his
+friends, amongst which stood the King, looking down upon him with an
+expression of joy.
+
+Don Gusman could hardly believe his senses. From the axe and the block
+he had passed to the King's apartment. He did not understand why this
+change had taken place. He did not know that Don Ramirez, in giving his
+_lettres-patentes_ to the King to sign, had, in his agitation, given him
+instead a paper containing a plot in which he schemed to get rid for
+ever of Don Gusman, a detested rival, and one of the firmest supporters
+of the throne. He was ignorant of all that had passed, and did not know
+how he had escaped from the clutches of the executioner. It was some
+time before everything could be made clear to him.
+
+Three days afterwards, at the same hour as Gusman's miraculous delivery,
+Calavar beheaded Don Ramirez, Count of Biscay, traitor and false
+witness. Don Gusman was overwhelmed with congratulations on all sides.
+King Philip grasped him cordially by his hand.
+
+"Gusman," he said, "I have been very unjust. I can never forgive my
+folly."
+
+"Sire," replied the Duke, "let us speak of it no more. Such words spoken
+by my King are worth a thousand lives."
+
+But the King continued.
+
+"I desire," he said, "that henceforth, in commemoration of your almost
+miraculous deliverance, you carry upon your escutcheon a silver axe
+emblazoned on an azure chess-board. This month we shall celebrate your
+marriage with Dona Estella. The marriage shall take place in our
+Escurial Palace."
+
+Then he added, turning to Ruy Lopez:--
+
+"I believe that the Church will possess a good servant in its new
+Bishop. You shall be consecrated Lord Prelate, with a scarlet robe,
+enriched with diamonds; that will be the recompense of your game of
+chess with Don Gusman."
+
+"Sire," replied Don Lopez, "never before this day have I been satisfied
+to be checkmated."
+
+The King smiled, and the courtiers followed his example.
+
+"Now, my lords," continued Philip, "we invite you all to our Royal
+banquet. Let Don Gusman's seat be placed upon our right, and the Bishop
+of Segovia's on our left. Give me your arm, Don Gusman."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Illustrated Interviews
+
+XXL--MR. AND MRS. KENDAL.
+
+
+If one had waited for a few months, "The Kendals" would have been
+getting settled in their new home in Portland Place. But, then, the
+happiest associations are always centred around the old, and the
+pleasantest and frequently the dearest recollections are gathered about
+the familiar. That is why I went to them once more to their home of many
+years at 145, Harley Street.
+
+It would be difficult to realize a woman of more striking
+characteristics than she who was for so many years known as "Madge"
+Robertson, and notwithstanding a very important visit one morning in
+August twenty-three years ago to St. Saviour's, Plymouth Grove,
+Manchester, when she became the wife of Mr. William Hunter Grimston,
+there are many who still know and speak of her by her happily-remembered
+maiden name. From that day husband and wife have never played
+apart--they have remained sweethearts on the stage and lovers in their
+own home. At night--the footlights; by day--home and children. Mrs.
+Kendal assured me that neither her eldest daughter, Margaret, nor Ethel,
+nor Dorothy--the youngest--nor "Dorrie," who is now at Cambridge, nor
+Harold, a "Marlborough" boy, would ever go on the stage. Home, husband,
+and children--home, wife, and children, are the embodiment of the life
+led by the Kendals.
+
+[Illustration: THE DRAWING-ROOM
+
+_From a Photo by Elliott & Fry_.]
+
+Together with Mr. Kendal we sat down in the drawing-room, and were
+joined for a moment by Miss Grimston, a quiet, unaffected young girl,
+who looked as though she could never rid herself of a smile, either in
+her eyes or about her mouth--a young maiden who suggested "sunshine."
+She was carrying Victoria, a pet dog. The mother's whole thoughts seemed
+to go out to her daughter.
+
+"Our Jubilee dog," she cried. "I bought her on Jubilee Day, and,
+curiously enough, Mr. Kendal bought one too, neither of us telling the
+other we were going to make such canine purchases."
+
+Then, when Miss Grimston had left the room, her mother turned to me
+quietly, and said:--
+
+"The image of my brother Tom. The same hair, the same expression of
+eyes, the same kind and loving ways. I think he lives in my girl. Come
+with me and you shall see his portrait."
+
+It hung in Miss Grimston's boudoir--an apartment the walls of which were
+decorated with pictures of the Comédie-Française Company, the original
+designs for the dresses in "A Wife's Secret"; while over the
+mantel-board are Mr. and Mrs. Kendal in "The Ironmaster," and many
+family portraits are about.
+
+[Illustration: MISS GRIMSTON'S BOUDOIR.
+
+_From a Photo by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+"It is so amusing to hear people talk and write about my eldest brother
+Tom and me playing together as children," she said. "My mother was
+married when she was eighteen, and my brother was born when she was
+nineteen; I was born when she was forty-eight, and was her twenty-second
+child! So my brother was a grown man with a moustache when I knew him. I
+was brought up with his two children--little Tom and Maude, my own
+nephew and niece."
+
+What a delightful story it was! Little Madge Robertson used to dress up
+as a policeman and take Maude into custody before Tom, the younger, as
+the judge. And this was the trial:--
+
+"What is the prisoner charged with, constable?" asked the judge.
+
+"Murder, my lord," replied the representative of law and order.
+
+"Prisoner, are you guilty?"
+
+"Yes, my lord," answered the poor prisoner.
+
+"Prisoner, have you anything to say why sentence should not be passed
+upon you according to law?"
+
+"Yes, my lord. _I'm the daughter of the author of 'Caste'._"
+
+The prisoner always got off, and dear old William Robertson would watch
+this little scene and roar with laughter.
+
+"Yes," Mrs. Kendal said quietly, as we again looked at "Tom's" picture,
+"my brother was kindness itself, even from his infancy. I remember
+hearing how, when he was a very small boy and living with his aunt, he
+went out one summer's day with a new velvet jacket on. He caught sight
+of a poor little beggar child his own size, who was in tatters, and,
+beckoning him across, at once divested himself of his new coat, put it
+on the wondering youngster, and ran away home as fast as he could. His
+aunt questioned him, and upon finding out the true circumstances of the
+case, and not wishing to damp the kind spirit in the little fellow's
+heart, said:--
+
+"'Well, we'll go and try to find the boy you gave it to, and buy your
+jacket back.'
+
+"Fortunately the search was successful, and the coat was bought back for
+no less a sum than half-a-sovereign.
+
+"And in later years it was just the same with Tom. He could never pass
+by a common cookshop, in front of the windows of which was often a crowd
+of men, women, and children, looking on with longing eyes, without
+getting them inside and giving them a fill to their hearts' content.
+When out driving it was no different. He would stop the horse, and have
+all the watching hungry ones inside, and the next moment they would be
+revelling in the satisfying properties of thick slices of plum-pudding
+and roast beef."
+
+The house throughout is most artistic. Mr. Kendal is a painter of great
+merit, and he "knows" a picture as soon as he sees it. Pictures are his
+hobby; hence there is not a room in the house--even to the
+kitchen--which does not find a place for some canvas, etching, or
+engraving. The entrance-hall is at once striking, with its quaint
+thirteenth century furniture, bronzes, and Venetian ware. There are some
+fine engravings of Miss Brunton--who became Countess of Craven--Kemble,
+Garrick, Phelps, and Mrs. Siddons. A picture of Mrs. Kendal in "The
+Falcon" was done at the express wish of, and paid for by, the late Poet
+Laureate. Tennyson said it reminded him of a woman he liked and admired.
+In the shadow is a fine bust of Macready, given by the great actor to
+the father of Mrs. Kendal; resting against the fireplace on either side
+are the two lances used in "The Queen's Shilling," and close by are two
+huge masks representing a couple of very hirsute individuals. They came
+from California, and represent "The King of the Devils" and "The King of
+the Winds."
+
+[Illustration: THE HALL. (_From a Photo, by Elliott & Fry._)]
+
+[Illustration: THE DINING ROOM. (_From a Photo, by Elliott & Fry._)]
+
+The entrance to the dining-room is typical of all the other door
+decoration in the house--a carving of cream enamel of beautiful design
+and workmanship. The walls of this apartment are terra-cotta, with a
+finely carved oak-panelling. It is a little treasure room of canvases,
+the gem of which is probably C. Van Hannen's "Mask Shop in Venice"--a
+painter of a school which Luke Fildes, R.A., has done so much to
+popularize. Macbeth is represented by a couple of delightful efforts,
+and there are samples of the skill of Eugene Du Blas, Crofts, John Reid,
+Andriotti, Sadler, De Haas, Rivers; a grand landscape by Webb--nearly
+all of which are Academy works. The decorative articles are as artistic
+as in some cases they are peculiar. Running about above the oaken
+fireplace, amongst choice bronzes and blue ware, and a black boy who is
+trudging along with a very useful clock on his back, are many quaint
+animals of polished brass--even mice are not missing, with wonderfully
+long tails--that sparkle and glisten in the firelight. Ascending the
+staircase you find etchings after Alma Tadema, Briton Riviere, and
+others; the walls are covered with them.
+
+[Illustration: SCENE FROM "THE SQUIRE." _From the Picture by Mr.
+Kendal._]
+
+Here are a series of delightful pictures showing Mr. and Mrs. Kendal in
+Gilbert's "Sweethearts," and I am reminded that the gifted actor and
+actress were the first to appear before the Queen after a period of
+five-and-twenty years, during which Her Majesty had never seen a play,
+the performance that night consisting of "Sweethearts" and Theyre
+Smith's "Uncle's Will." And as one takes note of many rare works--the
+bedroom is almost entirely given up to Doré's marvellous creations,
+though near the window is a splendid specimen of the photographer's art:
+a head of Miss Mary Anderson--one cannot fail to observe the family
+spirit everywhere--sometimes portraits of children, sometimes small and
+dainty pencil studies made of them by their father. Occasionally
+theatrical sketches by Mr. Kendal appear. Here are some of the principal
+members of the old St. James's Company, who used to give Mr. Kendal
+sittings between the acts--here a capital bit of artistic work depicting
+a scene from "The Squire," made from stray memorandums and with the aid
+of a looking-glass for securing the actor-artist's face.
+
+Leaving Mr. Kendal for a time, Mrs. Kendal and I returned to the
+drawing-room. It overlooks Harley Street and is a handsome two-roomed
+apartment, the prevailing tone of blue, cream, and gold harmonizing to
+perfection. It is positively one huge collection of curios.
+
+The screen at the far end is rather shuddery, not to say creepy, to
+those of nervous temperament. It is decorated with tomahawks of fearful
+and wonderful shapes and sizes, and other Indian implements of warfare.
+
+"These came from California," Mrs. Kendal explained. "No sooner are you
+out of the train than the Indians tomahawk you! Look at this bow and
+arrow."
+
+The pots of palms and ferns all hold American flags. These colours--the
+stars and stripes--once surmounted baskets of flowers and floral
+emblems--five, six, and even seven feet high--handed to Mrs. Kendal
+during her recent tour in the States; and amongst the sweetly-perfumed
+blossoms diamonds, pearls, and other precious gems have glistened in the
+shape of ornaments. A table near the window tells you of the generosity
+of the Americans. It is crowded with silver ornaments and mementos. You
+may handle the diminutive silver candlesticks to light "The Kendals"
+away--silver jugs, souvenir spoons, frying-pans, coffee-pots--all in
+miniature. This silver dollar is only one of a hundred. You touch a
+spring, when, lo and behold! the portrait of the donor appears. All
+American women have dainty feet. These little ebony and silver lasts for
+your boots remind you of this. On this table is a letter from the
+Princess of Wales, thanking Mrs. Kendal for "the lovely silver wedding
+bells and flowers which you so kindly sent me on the tenth." You may
+examine George IV.'s cigar-case--a silver tube in which the King was
+wont to carry a single cigar. It is impossible to number all the
+treasured odds and ends, but still more difficult to total up the
+miniature articles set out in a pair of cabinets.
+
+[Illustration: NAPOLEON'S WRITING-TABLE _From a Photo by Elliott &
+Fry._]
+
+[Illustration: "SHAKESPEARE AND BACON" _From the Picture by A. E.
+Emslie._]
+
+Mrs. Kendal has a hobby--it lies in the collecting of the tiniest of
+tiny things. If her intimate friends come across any curiosity
+particularly choice and small, it is at once snapped up and dispatched
+to Harley Street. I had some little leaden mice in my hand the size of
+half-a-dozen pins' heads. Handkerchiefs an inch square, babies' woollen
+shoes, pinafores, shirts, all of the tiniest, but perfectly made, with
+buttons and button-holes complete, and even buns with currants no bigger
+than a pin's point. Sheep, dogs, cats, monkeys, pigs, giraffes--in
+short, convert the entire Zoo into miniature china knick-knacks, and you
+have a considerable portion of Mrs. Kendal's collection realized. One
+must needs stand for a moment at Napoleon's writing-table, near which
+rests a characteristic clay by Van Beers. The pictures here are many.
+Millais' work is well represented by several etchings, and a remarkably
+clever thing by Emslie, entitled "Shakespeare and Bacon," suggests the
+two extremes of taste to a nicety. Whilst a young enthusiast is
+declaiming Shakespeare, one of his listeners--doubtless, equally
+enthusiastic, but with an eye for victuals--is interrupting a soliloquy
+with the remark: "Now! who says bacon?" Every portrait has a
+history--Prince and Princess Henry of Battenberg in their wedding
+garments, the late Duke of Albany, Professor Huxley, Mrs. Beecher
+Stowe, Mr. and Mrs. Pinero, Mr. and Mrs. Bancroft, and many others.
+Three suggestive pictures, however, cannot be passed by. This dear
+little fellow is the son of Mr. B. J. Farjeon. Mr. Farjeon married "Rip
+Van Winkle" Jefferson's daughter, and the youngster is pictured dressed
+in the tattered garments of merry, rollicking _Rip_. You know how _Rip_
+always drinks your health? He holds the glass of hollands high up and
+cries, "Here's your health and your family's good health, and may they
+all live long and prosper!" but Mr. Farjeon's little boy cries out,
+"Here's your health, and your family's good health, and may you all live
+long and _proper_!"
+
+[Illustration: GROUP IN CLAY BY JAN VAN BEERS.]
+
+[Illustration: MRS. KENDAL AS "GALATEA"]
+
+A photo, of Dr. Pancoast stands near a bust of Mrs. Kendal as _Galatea_,
+done when she was seventeen. Dr. Pancoast--a celebrated American
+physician--saved Mrs. Kendal's life when her maid accidentally
+administered a poisonous drug to her mistress. The poor girl herself
+nearly died of fright.
+
+But perhaps the portrait of the late Duchess of Cambridge, which Mrs.
+Kendal now holds in her hand, is more interesting than them all. "Her
+late Royal Highness," Mrs. Kendal said, "always addressed me and wrote
+to me as Mrs. Grimston. She was paralyzed in her right hand and wrote
+with her left; perhaps that is why this letter, written in pencil and
+with great effort, is treasured more than it otherwise would have been."
+
+It was one of the last letters written by Her Royal Highness. The
+letters and words were wonderfully legible; it read:--
+
+     "DEAR MRS. GRIMSTON,--One line only to thank you for sending me
+     the stalls for my dressers, who enjoyed your and Mr. Grimston's
+     charming acting immensely. My first deaf one was able to follow
+     perfectly, thanks to your having kindly let her have the book
+     previously. Again thanking you,
+
+    "I remain,
+
+        "Yours very sincerely,
+            AUGUSTA."
+
+
+
+And in a little cabinet in the far corner is a beautiful Sèvres bowl. In
+the bowl is a telegram from "Princess Mary," asking Mrs. Kendal to come
+to St. James's Palace at once. Written on a black-edged envelope were
+these words: "To dearest Mrs. Grimston Kendal. A little souvenir. Found
+amongst the last wishes of her late Royal Highness the Duchess of
+Cambridge."
+
+It is only just possible to hasten through the collection of substantial
+reminiscences which add to the charm of this corner of the house. The
+quaint white china hare was given to Mrs. Kendal many years ago by Mr.
+John Hare, when playing together at the Court. A curious but vividly
+suggestive idea of Japanese wit, in the shape of a couple of
+characteristically dressed figures, typifies "Health" and "Wealth"; the
+figure, representing "Health" has a countenance of the deepest red, the
+other a face all golden and as resplendent as the sun. In a small frame
+is the letter from the Goethe Club of New York, making Mrs. Kendal an
+honorary member. She is the only woman member of this club. And this
+pretty little doll dressed as a Quakeress--a charming compliment to the
+recipient--was presented by the Quakeresses of Philadelphia, who never,
+never, never go the play, yea, verily! So they sent this as a tribute of
+their admiration for the talents and character of the woman who has been
+called "The Matron of the Drama."
+
+[Illustration: MRS. KENDALL'S LITTLE QUAKERESS.]
+
+We sat down on a settee in front of the fire. The cushions were of white
+lawn marked with the initial "M.," and were worked by the late Lady
+Eglinton.
+
+Mrs. Kendal's happy and homely face is familiar to all. She has a truly
+tender and sympathetic expression there at all times. Her hair was once
+that of the fair one with golden locks, now it is of a rich brown
+colour--very neatly and naturally trimmed about her head. She is very
+kind--very motherly; just the woman you would single out in time of
+trouble and ask, "What would you advise me to do?" I gathered these
+impressions whilst listening to many things she said of which I need not
+write. Her views on theatrical life are strong, nay, severe. She is not
+afraid to speak, and she hits hard and sends her shots home. But you
+cannot mistake the earnestness of her manner, the true intent of her
+motives.
+
+"I am only a common-place woman," she said to me. "I used to be ever so
+light-hearted--now, I'm a morbid creature. Here we are sitting down by
+the fireside. I may tell you happy reminiscences that may make one
+merry, and all the time I should be thinking about--what? Cancer! I
+return to my dressing-room from the stage at night. As I am passing
+along a fellow player may turn to me and say, 'How well the play has
+gone to-night!' I am only thinking of those who have trod that same
+stage before me. What are they now? Dust--earth--worms!"
+
+I stirred the fire, and the bright glow from its burning embers lit up
+the corner where we sat. And we talked together.
+
+Margaret Brunton Robertson was born at Great Grimsby on March 15th,
+1849--curiously enough these lines will be read on the anniversary of
+her birthday. Her grandfather, father, and uncle were all actors.
+
+"I lived alone with my father and mother," she said, "and the only real
+recollection I have of my father is his fine white beard, which he grew
+towards the latter days of his life, and a little advice he once gave
+me.
+
+"'Always count twenty,' he said, 'when you are walking across the quay
+at Bristol, then you won't hear the sailors swear!' Yet he would use
+very bad language to me when he was teaching me my parts; for you know I
+commenced acting at a very early age. I was only three when I made my
+first appearance--and I ruined the play. It was at the Marylebone
+Theatre in the 'Three Poor Travellers,' and I was a blind child. My
+nurse was in the front row of the pit--that is, in the very first row,
+for there were no stalls. All I thought about was my new shoes--a very
+pretty, dainty little pair, and as soon as I stepped on the stage, I
+opened my eyes, caught sight of the delighted face of my nurse, and
+cried out:--
+
+"'Oh! nursey, dear, look at my new shoes!'
+
+"I played at Chute's Theatre in Bristol in many child's parts. When my
+father went to the wall over the Lincoln Circuit, Mr. Chute engaged him
+as an actor, and I went with him. I remember in 'A Midsummer Night's
+Dream'--I was _Mustard Seed_, I think, or _Peas Blossom_; at any rate,
+some small character that required very prettily dressing, and plenty of
+flowers on my little costume. I am as fond of flowers to-day as I was
+then. Well, when once I got on the stage in my pretty dress--of which I
+was particularly proud--before I would leave it, I had to be bought off
+with apples and oranges! There they would stand at the wings, and the
+price would go up--up--up--two oranges, three oranges, three oranges
+and two apples--until I inwardly murmured a childish equivalent for
+'sold,' and toddled off.
+
+"I acted _Eva_ in 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' when I was eight. I think I was
+always a sad child--I looked forty when I was fifteen. After little
+_Eva_ I used to play anything."
+
+And they were hard times for little Madge--she worked like the brave
+little woman she was. Her childish thoughts were constantly with her
+parents--how best could she add to the weekly income. And this is what
+the same little Madge would do. Night after night, after playing in a
+serious piece, she would appear in burlesque, sing, dance, and crack her
+small jokes with the best of them. It was hard work that made her a
+woman--it was dearly-bought experience that gave birth to the
+sympathetic heart she has to-day.
+
+[Illustration: MRS. KENDAL. _From a Photo. by Bassano._]
+
+So at fourteen she was a woman grown--and at fifteen at Hull played
+_Lady Macbeth_ to Phelps's _Macbeth_!
+
+"I was dressed in my mother's clothes," Mrs. Kendal said, "and I fear I
+must have looked a fearful guy!"
+
+At rehearsal Phelps looked upon the young woman.
+
+"And who--who is this child?" asked the great actor.
+
+"Madge Robertson," the manager answered; "a rare favourite here. It was
+a choice between her and a very old woman, Mr. Phelps."
+
+"Then let the young woman play, by all means," Phelps said.
+
+What a night it was! At the end of the play they wanted her on again,
+but Phelps was obdurate. A party of men came round, and threatened to
+throw Phelps into the Humber! Phelps remained firm.
+
+"He was kindness itself through it all," Mrs. Kendal assured me, "and
+though I did not go on again, he proved his thoughtfulness a little
+later on by sending for me to play _Lady Teazle_. I played the leading
+parts during the three nights Phelps remained in Hull in 'The Man of the
+World,' 'Richelieu,' and 'Macbeth.' On July 29th, 1865, I made my
+_début_ in London, at the Haymarket, as _Ophelia_ to the _Hamlet_ of
+Walter Montgomery. Poor Montgomery! He was what you would call a
+'lady-killer'--very conceited, but, withal, very kind. He once wrote a
+letter to my father, and added a postscript, saying: 'Keep this letter.
+Should poverty fall upon you or yours, your great-grand-children may be
+able to sell it for a good sum of money!' I was only with him six
+weeks."
+
+The only play of her brother's in which Mrs. Kendal has appeared was
+"Dreams," when the Gaiety first opened. At this time the managers always
+tried to induce Mrs. Kendal to appear in a riding habit--a costume in
+which she looked strikingly handsome.
+
+"Alfred Wigan played in 'Dreams,'" continued Mrs. Kendal. "His wife was
+one of the kindest women I ever met. She gave me a gold bracelet for a
+very curious little service I used to render her husband every night. He
+had to sing a song in 'Dreams,' and one or two of the high notes were
+beyond his reach. I used to take these notes for him, and the audience
+never guessed the truth."
+
+"And have you not played _Desdemona_?" I asked.
+
+"Oh! yes--and to a real black man, and so he did not have to put his
+head up the chimney to make himself up for the part! His name was Ira
+Aldridge, and scandal said he was the dresser of some great actor whom
+he used to imitate. But he had very ingenious ideas as to the character
+of _Othello_. He thought him a brute, and played him as such. His great
+notion was to get the fairest woman possible for _Desdemona_--and I was
+selected, for at that time my hair was quite golden.
+
+"In one part of the play he would cry out, 'Give me thy hand,
+Desdemona!' and certainly the effect of my hand in his huge grasp was
+impressive. Then in the last act he would pull me from the couch by the
+hair of my head. Oh! there was something in his realism, I can tell
+you!"
+
+Miss Robertson made a great sensation when she appeared as _Blanche
+Dumont_, in Dr. Westland Marston's "Hero of Romance," when it was
+performed for the first time at the Haymarket Theatre, on March 14th,
+1868. Seventeen months after this, on August 7th, 1869, she was Madge
+Robertson no longer. On that day she was married to Mr. William Hunter
+Grimston, whose stage name is Kendal. It is a charming little story.
+
+It occurred at Manchester. Mr. Kendal and Miss Robertson were on tour
+with the elder Compton, and they were--sweethearts. A convenient time
+seemed to have arrived for their wedding day, for on the Thursday,
+Friday, and Saturday nights pieces were to be played in which neither of
+them would be required. This would mean a nice little honeymoon--and the
+two lovers would reappear on the Monday night. So the day was
+fixed--Thursday; the church chosen--St. Saviour's, Plymouth Grove; and
+the best man booked--Walter Gowing, who used to play under the name of
+Walter Gordon.
+
+Then bad news came. Compton's brother was taken ill, and he had to hurry
+away from Cottonopolis. Another play had to be put in the bill, both Mr.
+Kendal and Miss Robertson would be needed--for it was "As You Like It,"
+and the one would be wanted for _Orlando_ and the other for _Rosalind_.
+Still, the wedding was proceeded with on Thursday morning, quietly and
+happily, and in the evening husband and wife met on the stage in the
+Forest of Arden. There, with _Celia_ as the priest, amidst the leafy
+trees and grassy pathways, _Orlando_ turns to the merry _Celia_, and
+pointing to the far, far happier _Rosalind_, cries out:--
+
+"Pray thee, marry us!"
+
+"Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rosalind?"
+
+"I will."
+
+"Then," _Rosalind_ pertly remarks, "you must say, 'I take thee,
+Rosalind, for wife.'"
+
+"I take thee, Rosalind, for wife," said _Orlando_, earnestly.
+
+Then _Rosalind_ asked, "Now tell me how long you would have her after
+you have possessed her?"
+
+And _Orlando_ replied--both in the words of Shakespeare and in the
+language of his own heart--"For ever and a day!"
+
+That is the true story of the wedding of Mr. and Mrs. Kendal. It was a
+natural desire of each never to play apart from the other, and from that
+day they have never separated. For some seven years Mr. and Mrs. Kendal
+played at the Haymarket, under Buckstone's management, and the gifted
+actress merrily referred to the little jokes played on "Bucky" by some
+of the actors. He was stone deaf, and could only take his cues when to
+speak from the movements of his fellow-actors' lips, so they would annoy
+him by continuing the lip movement, and "Bucky" sometimes got "stuck."
+
+[Illustration: THE DRAWING-ROOM. _From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+Little need be said of Mrs. Kendal's subsequent work--her acting at the
+Court, the Prince of Wales's, and her labours at the St. James's, when,
+in 1881, she appeared there under the joint management of Mr. Kendal and
+Mr. Hare. Not only in this country has her name become fondly familiar
+in the homes of those who "go to the theatre" and those who "never
+would," but in America the artistic acting of herself and husband has
+been instantly and enthusiastically recognised.
+
+I left the drawing-room--pausing, before entering Mr. Kendal's study, to
+admire the aviary--a veritable home of song--and to notice one
+diminutive member of the feathered tribe in particular, who has been
+taught by Miss Grimston to perform tricks _ad lib._, in addition to
+giving forth the sweetest of notes.
+
+The study is a very delicate apartment in terra-cotta and gold--here and
+there are quaint blue china vases and many exquisite bronzes. The window
+in the recess where the table is--a typical study table, suggesting
+plenty of work--is of stained glass, the quartet of divisions
+representing the four seasons. A glance round the walls of this room at
+once reveals the substantial side of Mr. Kendal's artistic
+hobby--pictures. In this apartment there is nothing but water-colours,
+save a very clever pen-and-ink sketch by a New York artist, called "Six
+Months After Marriage," which Jefferson caught sight of at the New York
+Dramatic Bazaar, and reminded Mr. Kendal to "keep his eye on," and a
+portrait or two of Mrs. Kendal and the children. "Hetty Sorrell" at her
+butter pats, with her thoughts very far from the churning-pan, is a gem.
+"The Last of St. Bartholomew" is a magnificent bit of painting, and the
+Venetian views at once carry one back to the home of the merry gondolier
+and perfect moonlight nights. This picture of Salvini--who its possessor
+assured me was the finest tragedian he had ever seen--was painted by Mr.
+Kendal himself. The bookcase, running along opposite the window,
+contains many rare first editions, of which Mr. Kendal is a very
+persevering and successful collector, and a bound manuscript copy of
+every play produced by him, together with the original sketches for the
+scenery. You may look over the "Scrap of Paper," "The Falcon," "Queen's
+Shilling," "Ladies' Battle," "Clancarty," "The Ironmaster," "The Money
+Spinner," and "The Squire"--Pinero's play, of which somebody wrote that
+it wafted the scent of the new-mown hay across the footlights.
+
+[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF SALVANI, BY MR. KENDAL.]
+
+It is interesting to learn how Mr. Kendal first came across Pinero.
+
+"I only knew him as an actor at the Lyceum," he said, "and had never met
+him. He wrote and asked if we would let him read a play to us. As a rule
+we never do that; but, remembering that Pinero was himself a player, we
+made an exception. So it came about that one day, after a rehearsal, the
+actor playwright read his piece to us in the _foyer_ of the St. James's.
+We never expected anything at first, but the reading ended in our taking
+the play immediately, though we scarcely knew what we should do with it,
+seeing it was a two-act play. We found an opportunity, however, and you
+know the success it was. It was called 'The Money Spinner.'"
+
+Mr. Kendal is a striking-looking man--the very ideal of a picturesque
+soldier, with a constitution of steel. He talks to you frankly, easily,
+for there is not two penny-worth of presumption about him. He lives and
+labours very quietly--he enjoys his days, and a good cigar. He divides
+his talents between the stage and the brush. His pencil and palette have
+been with him in far-off places, and there is always a corner in his
+bag for them if he only travels twenty miles from Harley Street. His
+peculiarity of painting--so to speak--lies in the fact that he never
+fails to chronicle the view obtained from any hotel where he may be
+staying. He showed me a book full of these hasty impressions--all of
+which were most beautifully done--many of them he could only give ten
+minutes or a quarter of an hour to. Two of these I brought away for
+reproduction in these pages; they are both unfinished, however--the
+pencil reminders of certain little additions tell that.
+
+[Illustration: SKETCH FROM THE QUEEN's HOTEL, MANCHESTER, BY MR.
+KENDAL.]
+
+The first of these is a view of the Infirmary as seen from Mr. Kendal's
+window at the Queen's Hotel, Manchester; the second--done in a quarter
+of an hour--shows the way the Americans erect their buildings for
+exhibiting a cyclorama--popularly known here as a panorama. It was done
+from a back window in an hotel in Cleveland, U.S.A. The actor-artist
+never learnt drawing, save for a few hours' lessons he took at the Slade
+Schools under the tuition of Le Gros. He draws everything that impresses
+him--his painting memory is remarkable. He sees a man's face in the
+street, carries it home in his mind, and it will be very faithfully put
+on paper or canvas.
+
+We talked for a long time on "pictures"--he was so happy and earnest
+about it that it was some time before we made an attempt to tread the
+boards and get behind the footlights.
+
+Mr. Kendal--William Hunter Grimston--was born at Notting Hill, and just
+outside the sound of Bow Bells, on December 16th, 1843. His parents
+belonged to the Low Church, and their views of the theatre in general,
+and on adopting the stage as a profession in particular, will be readily
+understood. Mr. Kendal was intended for the Army--how he came to "go on"
+the stage is best told in his own words:
+
+"I had only been to three or four pantomimes previously," he said, "and
+one night--I was about eighteen years of age at the time--I found myself
+in the stalls of the old Soho Theatre, in Dean Street, Soho, now known
+as the Royalty Theatre. My paper and pencil were out, and I was busily
+engaged in making sketches of the various actors and actresses. The
+piece was 'Billie Taylor.' Suddenly I felt a gentle tap on the shoulder
+from behind. I turned round.
+
+"'Would you allow me to take those sketches round and show the 'parties'
+interested?' a gentleman asked.
+
+"'Certainly; with pleasure,' I replied.
+
+"'Perhaps you would like to come behind the scenes as well?'
+
+"It was just what I wanted, so I followed the person who had so kindly
+interested himself in my scribble. He proved to be Mr. Mowbray, the
+manager of the theatre. The picture behind the scenes that night was a
+perfect Elysium to me. I think Mowbray must have noticed the impression
+it made upon me, for he asked if I would like to go on the stage. I
+did--as a sort of super."
+
+[Illustration: SKETCH FROM HOTEL WINDOW, CLEVELAND, U.S.A., BY MR.
+KENDAL.]
+
+Mr. Kendal's first important engagement lasted four or five years at the
+Theatre Royal, Glasgow. Here he met and played with such people as Helen
+Faucit (Lady Martin), G. V. Brooke, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Kean, Dion
+Boucicault, Fechter, Miss Bateman (Mrs. Crowe), and the elder Sothern.
+When Sothern left, the accomplished young actor played _Dundreary_, and
+found himself straying in the footsteps of the famous originator of the
+part, even to the hop. One would have thought that people would have
+praised the actor for taking such a worthy example--but it displeased
+Tom Taylor, and he wrote very wrathfully. Then Mr. Kendal went to the
+Haymarket, met Miss Robertson, and from their wedding day their lives
+may be said to have been the same in thought, word, and deed.
+
+As an organizer and man of business his tact and judgment were tested
+and proved during his joint management of the St. James's with Mr. Hare
+in 1881. For some time previous to this Mr. Kendal had been on the
+look-out for a theatre, and his mind wandered towards the St. James's,
+but it required a large sum of money spending on it before it could be
+opened.
+
+"One night I was talking to Lord Newry at my club," said Mr. Kendal,
+"and happened to say that if £2,000 or so were spent on the St. James's
+I might feel inclined to take it.
+
+"'Suppose I spend that amount of money on the place, will you take it?'
+Lord Newry asked.
+
+"My only reply was that I would think about it. In the meantime I went
+to the Court, from there to the Prince of Wales's to play in
+'Diplomacy'--it ran a year--'Peril' and 'London Assurance.' Then I
+returned to the Court again, and during this time Lord Newry had
+practically gutted the old and unlucky St. James's, turned it inside
+out--John Hare, my wife and self entered, and we remained there nearly
+ten years."
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Kendal share the same opinion of America--it is the land of
+to-day, the land of the future. As to its theatres in comparison with
+ours, Mrs. Kendal--who had now joined us--was most enthusiastic. I had
+reached the pillars, from which hung curtains of intricate Japanese
+workmanship, leading to the hall. Victoria, the Jubilee dog, was barking
+a friendly "Good-bye," and the lusty throats of Miss Grimston's
+two-and-twenty canaries forced their sweet notes from a far-away room
+into the passage.
+
+"I will give you some idea of what an American theatre is like," said
+Mrs. Kendal. "You reach your destination by rail at some small place for
+a one-night stay. If it is raining and the ground is wet, men in long
+jack-boots catch hold of you and gallantly take you across the puddles.
+You do not see a soul about--and you are in fear and trembling as to
+where your night's audience is coming from. You get to your hotel, and
+then your next thought is--where is the theatre? You expect to find a
+little, uncomfortable, band-box of a place, and you set out to see it
+with a heavy heart. It is a palace--a marble palace--a positive poem!
+And your heart leaps happily--only to drop dull again, for you suddenly
+remember that you have seen--nobody, not even the oldest inhabitant. You
+turn to the manager.
+
+"'Yes, yes--but, what about an audience, how are you going to fill it?'
+you ask.
+
+"'Wall,' he replies, 'I don't trouble myself much about that. I reckon
+that every seat in this theatre is sold for to-night, that's all!'"
+
+    HARRY HOW.
+
+[Illustration: MR. KENDAL. _From a Photo. by Maurice Stephens,
+Harrogat._]
+
+
+
+
+"_Author! Author_!"
+
+BY E. W. HORNUNG.
+
+
+This story has to do with two men and a play, instead of a woman, and it
+is none of mine. I had it from an old gentleman I love: only he ought to
+have written it himself. This, however, he will never do; having known
+intimately in his young days one of the two men concerned. But I have
+his leave to repeat the story more or less as he told it--if I can. And
+I am going to him for my rebuke--when I dare.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"You want to hear the story of poor old Pharazyn and his play? I'm now
+going to tell it you.
+
+"Ah, well! My recollection of the matter dates from one summer's night
+at my old rooms in the Adelphi, when he spoilt my night's work by coming
+in flushed with an idea of his own. I remember banging the drawer into
+which I threw my papers to lock them away for the night; but in a few
+minutes I had forgotten my unfinished article, and was glad that
+Pharazyn had come. We were young writers, both of us; and, let me tell
+you, my good fellow, young writing wasn't in those days what it is now.
+I am thinking less of merit than of high prices, and less of high prices
+than of cheap notoriety. Neither of us had ever had our names before the
+public--not even in the advertised contents of an unread and unreadable
+magazine. No one cared about names in my day, save for the half-dozen
+great ones that were then among us; so Pharazyn's and mine never used to
+appear in the newspapers, though some of them used our stuff.
+
+"In a manner we were rivals, for we were writing the same sort of thing
+for the same sort of publications, and that was how we had come
+together; but never was rivalry friendlier, or mutually more helpful.
+Our parts were strangely complementary; if I could understand for the
+life of me the secret of collaboration, which has always been a mystery
+to me, I should say that I might have collaborated with Pharazyn almost
+ideally. I had the better of him in point of education, and would have
+turned single sentences against him for all he was worth; and I don't
+mind saying so, for there my superiority ended. When he had a story to
+tell, he told it with a swing and impetus which I coveted him, as well I
+might to this day; and if he was oftener without anything to write
+about, his ideas would pay twenty shillings in the pound, in strength
+and originality, where mine made some contemptible composition in pence.
+That is why I have been a failure at fiction--oh, yes, I have! That is
+why Pharazyn would have succeeded, if only he had stuck to plain
+ordinary narrative prose.
+
+[Illustration: "HE SKETCHED THE NEW STORY."]
+
+"The idea he was unable to keep within his own breast, on the evening of
+which I am telling you, was as new, and simple, and dramatic as any that
+ever intoxicated the soul of story-teller or made a brother author green
+with envy. I can see him now, as I watched him that night, flinging to
+and fro with his quick, nervous stride, while he sketched the new
+story--bit by bit, and often the wrong bit foremost; but all with his
+own flashing vividness, which makes me so sorry--so sorry whenever I
+think of it. At moments he would stand still before the chair on which I
+sat intent, and beat one hand upon the other, and look down at me with a
+grand, wondering smile, as though he himself could hardly believe what
+the gods had put into his head, or that the gift was real gold, it
+glittered so at first sight. On that point I could reassure him. My open
+jealousy made me admire soberly. But when he told me, quite suddenly, as
+though on an afterthought, that he meant to make a play of it and not a
+story, I had the solid satisfaction at that moment of calling him a
+fool.
+
+"The ordinary author of my day, you see, had a certain timorous respect
+for the technique of the stage. It never occurred to us to make light of
+those literary conventions which it was not our business to understand.
+We were behind you fellows in every way. But Pharazyn was a sort of
+forerunner: he said that any intelligent person could write a play, if
+he wanted to, and provided he could write at all. He said his story was
+a born play; and it was, in a way; but I told him I doubted whether he
+could train it up with his own hand to be a good-acting one. I knew I
+was right. He had neither the experience nor the innate constructive
+faculty, one or other of which is absolutely necessary for the writing
+of possible plays. I implored him to turn the thing into a good dramatic
+novel, and so make his mark at one blow. But no; the fatal fit was on
+him, and I saw that it must run its course. Already he could see and
+hear his audience laughing and crying, so he said, and I daresay he
+could also feel the crinkle of crisp weekly receipts. I only know that
+we sat up all night over it, arguing and smoking and drinking whisky
+until my windows overlooking the river caught the rising sun at an
+angle. Then I gave in. For poor old Pharazyn was more obstinate than
+ever, though he thanked me with the greatest good temper for my
+well-meant advice.
+
+"'And look here, my boy,' says he, as he puts on his hat, 'you shan't
+hear another word about this till the play's written; and you are to ask
+no questions. Is that a bargain? Very well, then. When I've finished
+it--down to the very last touches--_you_ shall come and sit up all night
+with _me_, and I'll read you every word. And by gad, old chap, if they
+give me a call the first night, and want a speech--and I see you sitting
+in your stall, like a blessed old fool as you are--by gad, sir, I'll
+hold up you and your judgment to the ridicule of the house, so help me
+never!'
+
+[Illustration: "I COULD SMELL HIS PIPE THROUGH THE KEYHOLE."]
+
+"Well, I am coming to that first night presently. Meanwhile, for the
+next six months, I saw very little of Pharazyn, and less still in the
+new year. He seldom came to my rooms now; when he did I could never get
+him to stay and sit up with me; and once when I climbed up to his garret
+(it was literally that), he would not answer me, though I could smell
+his pipe through the key-hole, in which he had turned the key. Yet he
+was perfectly friendly whenever we did meet. He said he was working very
+hard, and indeed I could imagine it; his personal appearance, which he
+had never cherished, being even untidier, and I am obliged to add
+seedier, than of old. He continued to send me odd magazines in which his
+stuff happened to appear, or occasionally a proof for one's opinion and
+suggestions; we had done this to each other all along; but either I did
+not think about it, or somehow he led me to suppose that his things were
+more or less hot from the pen, whereas many of mine had been written a
+twelvemonth before one saw them in type. One way or another, I gathered
+that he was at work in our common groove, and had shelved, for the
+present at all events, his proposed play, about which you will remember
+I had undertaken to ask no questions.
+
+"I was quite mistaken. One night in the following March he came to me
+with a haggard face, a beaming eye, and a stout, clean manuscript, which
+he brought down with a thud on my desk. It was the play he had sketched
+out to me eight or nine months before. I was horrified to hear he had
+been at work upon it alone from that night to this. He had written, so
+he said, during all this time, not another line, only each line of his
+play some ten times over.
+
+"I recollect looking curiously at his shabby clothes, and then reminding
+him that it was at his place, not mine, I was to have heard him read the
+play: and how he confessed that he had no chair for me there--that his
+room was, in fact, three parts dismantled--that he had sacrificed
+everything to the play, which was worth it. I was extremely angry. I
+could have helped him so easily, independent as I was of the calling I
+loved to follow. But there was about him always an accursed, unnecessary
+independence, which has since struck me--and I think I may say so after
+all these years--as the mark of a rather humble, very honest origin.
+
+"He read me the play, and I cried over the third act, and so did he. I
+thought then, and still think, that there was genius in that third
+act--it took you off your feet. And to me, certainly, it seemed as if
+the piece must act as well as it read, though indeed, as I took care to
+say and to repeat, my opinion was well-nigh valueless on that point. I
+only knew that I could see the thing playing itself, as I walked about
+the room (for this time I was the person who was too excited to sit
+still), and that was enough to make one sanguine. I became as
+enthusiastic about it as though the work were mine (which it never,
+never would or could have been), yet I was unable to suggest a single
+improvement, or to have so much as a finger-tip in the pie. Nor could I
+afterwards account for its invariable reception at the hands of
+managers, whose ways were then unknown to me. That night we talked only
+of one kind of reception. We were still talking when the sun came
+slanting up the river to my windows; you could hardly see them for
+tobacco-smoke, and we had emptied a bottle of whisky to the success of
+Pharazyn's immortal play.
+
+[Illustration: "HIS MANUSCRIPT RAGGED BUT UNREAD."]
+
+"Oh, those nights--those nights once in a way! God forgive me, but I'd
+sacrifice many things to be young again and feel clever, and to know the
+man who would sit up all night with me to rule the world over a bottle
+of honest grog. In the pale light of subsequent revelations I ought,
+perhaps, to recall such a night, with that particular companion,
+silently and in spiritual ashes. But it is ridiculous, in my opinion, to
+fit some sort of consequence to every little insulated act; nor will I
+ever admit that poor Pharazyn's ultimate failing was in any appreciable
+degree promoted or prepared for by those our youthful full-souled
+orgies. I know very well that afterwards, when his life was spent in
+waylaying those aforesaid managers, in cold passages, on stage
+doorsteps, or, in desperation, under the public portico on the street;
+and when a hundred snubs and subterfuges would culminate in the return
+of his manuscript, ragged but unread: I know, and I knew then, that the
+wreck who would dodge me in Fleet Street, or cut me in the Strand, had
+taken to his glass more seriously and more steadily than a man should.
+But I am not sure that it matters much--_much_, you understand me--when
+that man's heart is broken.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"The last words I was ever to exchange with my poor old friend keep
+ringing in my head to this day, whenever I think of him; and I can
+repeat them every one. It was some few years after our intimacy had
+ceased, and when I only knew that he had degenerated into a Fleet Street
+loafer of the most dilapidated type, that I caught sight of him one day
+outside a theatre. It was the theatre which was for some years a
+gold-mine to one Morton Morrison, of whom you may never have heard; but
+he was a public pet in his day, I can tell you, and his day was just
+then at its high noon. Well, there stood Pharazyn, with his hands in his
+pockets and a cutty-pipe sticking out between his ragged beard and
+moustache, and his shoulders against the pit door, so that for once he
+could not escape me. But he wouldn't take a hand out of his pocket to
+shake mine; and when I asked him how he was, without thinking, he
+laughed in my face, and it made me feel cruel. He was dreadfully
+emaciated, and almost in rags. And as I wondered what I ought to do, and
+what to say next, he gave a cough, and spat upon the pavement, and I
+could see the blood.
+
+[Illustration: "THERE STOOD PHARAZYN."]
+
+"I don't know what you would have done for him--but for all I knew what
+had brought him to this, I could think of nothing but a drink. It was
+mid-winter, and I tell you the man was in rags. I felt that if I could
+get him to a bar he might eat something, too, and that I should get a
+hold of him this time which I would never again let go. Judge of my
+surprise when he flatly refused to come with me even for a drink.
+
+"'Can't you see? he said in his hollow voice. 'There'll be a crowd here
+directly, and I want the best seat in the pit--the best in the house.
+I've been going dry for it these two days, and I'm going dry till I've
+seen the piece. No, I've been here an hour already, and there's three
+hours more, I know; but I'm not going to risk it, thanks all the same.'
+
+"By this I had remembered that Morton Morrison was to re-open that night
+with a new piece. Indeed, I ought not to have forgotten that, seeing
+that I had my order about me somewhere, and it meant a column from my
+pen between twelve and one that night. But this sudden, sorry meeting
+had put all other thoughts out of my head.
+
+"'My dear fellow,' I said, with a sort of laugh, 'are you a
+first-nighter, too?'
+
+"'Only at this theatre.'
+
+"He looked me queerly in the face.
+
+"'You admire Morrison very much?'
+
+"'I love him!'
+
+"I suppose my eyes thawed him, though God knows how hard I was trying
+not to hurt him with pitying looks. At all events he began to explain
+himself of his own accord, very impetuously; indeed I rather think the
+outburst was purely involuntary.
+
+"'Look here,' he said, with his hoarse voice lowered: 'I hoped never to
+see your face again. I hoped you'd never see mine. But now you are here,
+don't go this minute, and I'll tell you why I think so much of Morton
+Morrison. I don't know him, mind you--he doesn't know me from Adam--but
+once long ago I had something to do with him. And God bless him, but
+damn every other manager in London, for he was the only one of the lot
+that gave me a civil hearing and a kind word!'
+
+"I knew what he was talking about, and he knew that I knew, for we had
+understood one another in the old days.
+
+"'I took it to him last of all,' he went on, wiping his damp lips with
+his hand. 'When I began hawking it about he was an unknown man; when his
+turn came he was here. He let me read it to him. Then he asked me to
+leave it with him for a week; and when I went back to him, he said what
+they had all said--that it would never act! But Morton Morrison said it
+nicely. And when he saw how it cut me up, into little bits, he got me to
+tell him all about everything; and then he persuaded me to burn the
+play, instead of ruining my life for it; and I burnt it in his
+dressing-room fire, but the ruin was too far gone to mend. I wrote that
+thing with my heart's blood--old man, you know I did! And none of them
+would think of it! My God! But Morrison was good about it--he's a good
+soul--and that's why you'll see me at every first night of his until the
+drink finishes its work.'
+
+"I had not followed him quite to the end. One thing had amazed me too
+much.
+
+"'You burnt your play,' I could only murmur, 'when it would have turned
+into such a novel! Surely you have some draft of it still?'
+
+"'I burnt the lot when I got home,' Pharazyn replied; 'and by-and-by I
+shall join 'em and burn too!'
+
+"I had nothing to answer to that, and was, besides, tenacious of my
+point. 'I don't think much of the kindness that makes one man persuade
+another to burn his work and throw up the sponge,' said I, with a good
+deal of indignation, for I did feel wroth with that fellow Morrison--a
+bread-and-butter drawing-room actor, whose very vogue used to irritate
+me.
+
+[Illustration: "WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THIS?"]
+
+"'Then what do you think of this?' asked Pharazyn, as he dipped a hand
+within his shabby coat, and cautiously unclenched it under my nose.
+
+"'Why, it's a five-pound note!'
+
+"'I know; but wasn't _that_ kind, then?'
+
+"'So Morrison gave you this!' I exclaimed.
+
+"Two or three persons had stopped to join us at the pit door, and
+Pharazyn hastily put the note back in his pocket. As he did so, his
+dreadfully shabby condition gave my heart a fresh cut.
+
+"'Are you never going to spend that?' I asked in a whisper; and in a
+whisper he answered:--
+
+"'Never! It is all my play has brought me--all. It was given me as a
+charity, but I took it as my earnings--my earnings for all the work and
+waiting, and blood and tears, that one thing cost me. Spend it? Not I!
+It will bury me as decently as I deserve.'
+
+"We could converse no more. And the presence of other people prevented
+me from giving him my overcoat, though I spoke of it into his ear,
+begging and imploring him to come away and take it while there was still
+time for him to clip back and get a seat in the front row. But he would
+not hear of it, and the way he refused reminded me of his old stubborn
+independence; all I got was a promise that he would have a bite with me
+after the performance. And so I left him in the frosty dusk, ill-clad
+and unkempt, with the new-lit lamp over the pit door shining down upon
+the haggard mask that had once been the eager, memorable face of my
+cleverest friend.
+
+"I saw him next the moment I entered the theatre that evening, and I
+nodded my head to him, which he rebuked with the slightest shake of his
+own. So I looked no more at him before the play began, comprehending
+that he desired me not to do so. The temptation, however, was too strong
+to go on resisting, for while Pharazyn was in the very centre of the
+front row in the pit, I was at one end of the last row of the stalls;
+and I was very anxious about him, wanting to make sure that he was there
+and not going to escape me again, and nervous of having him out of my
+sight for five minutes together.
+
+"Thus I know more about the gradual change which came over Pharazyn's
+poor face, as scene followed scene, than of the developments and merits
+of those scenes themselves. My mind was in any case running more on my
+lost friend than on the piece; but it was not till near the end of the
+first act that the growing oddity of his look first struck me.
+
+"His eyebrows were raised; it was a look of incredulity chiefly; yet I
+could see nothing to impale for improbability in the play as far as it
+had gone. I was but lightly attending, for my own purposes, as you
+youngsters skim your betters for review; but thus far the situation
+struck me as at once feasible and promising. Also it seemed not a little
+familiar to me; I could not say why, for watching Pharazyn's face. And
+it was his face that told me at last, in the second act. By God, it was
+his own play!
+
+"It was Pharazyn's play, superficially altered all through, nowhere
+substantially; but the only play for me, when I knew that, was being
+acted in the front row of the pit, and not on the stage, to which I had
+turned the side of my head. I watched my old friend's face writhe and
+work until it stiffened in a savage calm; and watching, I thought of the
+'first night' he had pictured jovially in the old days, when the bare
+idea of the piece was bursting his soul; and thinking, I wondered
+whether it could add a drop to his bitterness to remember that too.
+
+"Yet, through all my thoughts, I was listening, intently enough, now.
+And in the third act I heard the very words my friend had written: they
+had not meddled with his lines in the great scene which had moved us
+both to tears long ago in my rooms. And this I swear to, whether you
+believe it or no--that at the crisis of that scene, which was just as
+Pharazyn made it, the calm ferocity transfiguring his face died away all
+at once, and I saw it shining with the sweetest tears our eyes can
+shed--the tears of an artist over his own work.
+
+"And when the act was over he sat with his head on his hand for some
+minutes, drinking in the applause, as I well knew; then he left his seat
+and squeezed out on my side of the house, and I made sure he was coming
+to speak to me over the barrier; and I got up to speak to him; but he
+would not see me, but stood against the barrier with a mien as white and
+set as chiselled marble.
+
+"What followed on the first fall of the curtain I shall relate as
+rapidly as it happened. Louder call for an author I never heard, and I
+turned my eyes to the stage in my intense curiosity to see who would
+come forward; for the piece had been brought out anonymously; and I
+divined that Morrison himself was about to father it. And so he did; but
+as the lie passed his lips, and in the interval before the applause--the
+tiny interval between flash and peal--the lie was given him in a roar of
+fury from my left; there fell a thud of feet at my side, and Pharazyn
+was over the barrier and bolting down the gangway towards the stage. I
+think he was near making a leap for the footlights and confronting
+Morrison on his own boards; but the orchestra came between, and the
+fiddlers rose in their places. Then he turned wildly to us pressmen, and
+I will say he had our ear, if not that of the whole house besides, for
+the few words he was allowed to utter.
+
+"'Gentlemen!' he cried at the top of his voice--'Gentlemen, I'm one of
+you! I'm a writing man like yourselves, and I wrote this play that
+you've seen. That man never wrote it at all--I wrote it myself! That man
+has only altered it. I read it to him two years ago--two years ago,
+gentlemen! He kept it for a week, and then got me to burn it as
+rubbish--when he had made a copy of it! And he gave me this,
+gentlemen--he gave me this that I give him back!'
+
+"It was a matter of only a few seconds, but not till my own last hour
+shall I forget Morrison's painted face on the stage, or that sweating
+white one beneath the boxes; or the fluttering from Pharazyn's poor
+fingers of the five-pound note he had treasured for two years; or the
+hush all over the house until the first hand was laid upon his dirty
+collar.
+
+"'What!' he screamed, 'do none of you believe me? Will none of you stand
+by me--isn't there a man--not one man among you----'
+
+"And they threw him out with my name on his lips. And I followed, and
+floored a brute who was handling him roughly. And nothing happened to
+me--because of what happened to Pharazyn!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The dear old boy sat silent, his grey head on his hand. Presently he
+went on, more to himself than to me: "What could I do? What proof had I?
+He had burnt them every one. And as long as the public would stand him,
+Morrison kept his good name at least. And that play was his great
+success!"
+
+[Illustration: "HE GAVE ME THIS."]
+
+I ventured gently to inquire what had happened to Pharazyn.
+
+"He died in my arms," my old friend cried, throwing up his head with an
+oath and a tear. "He died in a few minutes, outside the theatre. I could
+hear them clapping after he was dead--clapping his piece."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Zig Zags at the Zoo: Conkavian
+
+
+If the gentle reader, full of a general desire for knowledge and a
+particular enthusiasm for natural history, will refer to any one of the
+great standard works on birds, and, turning to the index, seek for the
+family title of the Conkaves, I have every hope and confidence that he
+will not find it; because, as a matter of fact, it is a little invention
+of my own, and, I may modestly urge, rather a neat thing in scientific
+nomenclature, on the whole. It has the advantage of including in one
+family the storks and the pelicans, which in all orthodox books on birds
+are planted far apart and out of sight of each other, with many orders,
+tribes, and families between. Under my title they are gathered amicably
+together in the common possession of very long bills, like two tailors
+on a man's doorstep. The word is derived, in the proper and regular
+manner, from ancient sources; from _conk_, a venerable Eastern word,
+signifying a nose or beak, and the Latin _avis_, a bird. And I offer
+the term freely as my humble, but I trust useful, contribution to
+science; my first contribution.
+
+The stork is regarded, in many countries, with a certain
+semi-superstitious reverence and esteem. After many prolonged and
+serious attempts to saturate myself with a similar feeling, I regret to
+confess to a certain smallness of esteem for the stork. You can't esteem
+a bird that makes ugly digs at your feet and heels with such a very big
+beak. Out in their summer quarters the storks are kept in by close wire,
+and close wire will give an air of inoffensiveness to most things. But,
+away in a by-yard, with a gate marked "private," there stands a shed
+wherein the storks are kept warm in winter, behind wooden bars; and
+between these bars stork-heads have a way of dropping at the toes of the
+favoured passer-by, like to action of a row of roadmen's picks.
+
+[Illustration: PICKS AND CHEWS.]
+
+The stork has come off well in the matter of bodily endowment. The
+pelican has a tremendous beak--achieved, it would seem, by a skimping of
+material in the legs; but the stork has the tremendous beak and legs of
+surprising growth as well. His wings, too, are something more than
+respectable. At flying, at eating, at portentous solemnity of
+demeanour--in all these and in other things the pelican and the stork
+score fairly evenly; but at walking the pelican is left behind at once.
+This makes one suspect the stork's honesty. The pelican has a good beak
+and wings, and pays for them, like an honest bird, out of its legs, just
+as the ostrich pays for its neck and legs out of its wings. But the
+stork is abnormally lucky in beak, neck, legs, and wings together, and
+even then has material left to lay out in superfluous knobs and wens to
+hang round its neck, which leads to a suspicion that many of its
+personal fittings belong properly to some other bird. I've a notion that
+the unlucky kiwi might identify some of the property.
+
+[Illustration: THE PELICAN LEFT.]
+
+[Illustration: ARMY.]
+
+Perhaps the adjutant should be acknowledged king of the conkavians.
+Billy, the Zoo adjutant, has, I believe, no doubt on the subject at all.
+Billy is an ornament to the military profession--a very fine fellow,
+with a thing on the back of his neck like a Tangerine orange, and a wen
+on the front of it, which he can blow out whenever he wants to amuse
+himself, and everything else handsome about him. He is an old soldier,
+too, is Billy, having been Adjutant of the Regent's Park Conkavian Corps
+for seventeen years; but if you knew nothing of his age, still you would
+call Billy an old soldier--upon a little acquaintance with his habits.
+
+[Illustration: LAW.]
+
+There seems no valid reason why the professional aspirations of the
+stork should be restricted to the army. If an adjutant, why not a dean?
+Why not a proctor? There is the making of a most presentable don about a
+stork; and I have caught a stork in an attitude of judicial meditation
+that might do honour to any bench. There is no reason why "sober as a
+judge" should not be made to read "sober as a stork," except that the
+stork is the more solemn creature of the two; and I think that some
+species of stork--say the marabou, for instance--might fairly claim
+brevet rank as judge, after the example of the adjutant. The elevation
+of a beak to the bench might be considered an irregular piece of legal
+procedure; but, bless you, it's nothing unusual with a stork. Put any
+bench with something to eat on it anywhere within reach of a stork's
+beak in this place, and you shall witness that same elevation, precedent
+or no precedent.
+
+[Illustration: UNIVERSITIES.]
+
+A common white stork hasn't half the solid gravity of an adjutant or a
+marabou. He has a feline habit of expressing his displeasure by blowing
+and swearing--a habit bad and immoral in a cat, but worse in a stork
+accustomed to Church. Church, by-the-bye, is the keeper of all the
+conkavians, as well as of the herons, the flamingoes, the ibises, the
+egrets, and a number of other birds with names more difficult to spell.
+It is impossible to treat disrespectfully a man with such widespread
+responsibilities as this, or there might be a temptation to mention that
+he is not an unusually high Church, although his services are not always
+simple, often involving a matter of doctorin'. But, then, some people
+will say anything, temptation or none. And after all, it is pleasant to
+know that, whatever a stork or a pelican wants, he always goes to
+Church.
+
+[Illustration: SWEARING.]
+
+[Illustration: CHURCH.]
+
+This being the case, there is a proverb about cleanliness that makes one
+wonder why the marabou stork doesn't wash himself. It isn't as though he
+never wanted it. I have a horrible suspicion about this philosophic old
+sloven. I believe his profession of philosophic contemplation is
+assumed, because it is the easiest excuse for indolence. Now, a pelican
+is not a bird of graceful outline, but he _is_ careful about his
+feathers. The pelican is a scrupulous old Dutchman, and the stork is an
+uncleanly old Hindu. And uncleanly he must be left, for it takes a deal
+to shame a stork. You can't shame a bird that wraps itself in a
+convenient philosophy. "Look here--look at me!" you can imagine a
+pelican cleanliness-missionary saying to the stork. "See how white and
+clean I keep all my feathers!" "Um," says the stork, "it only makes 'em
+a different colour." "But observe! I just comb through my pinions with
+my beak, so, and they all lie neat and straight!" "Well, and what's the
+good of that?" grunts the stork. "And then you see," says the pelican,
+ignoring the question, "with a good long beak you can reach everywhere,
+over your back and under your wings; see, I'm as clean under my wings as
+anywhere else, although it's covered up!" "Beastly vanity," growls the
+old Hindu, getting bored. "Then," continues the Dutchman, "you give
+yourself a good shake, and there you are!" "And then," says the
+philosopher sarcastically, "to-morrow, I suppose, you'll have to do it
+all over again?" "Of course!" "Oh! I hate a fool!" says the stork, and
+closes the lecture.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Thus the marabou. The ordinary white stork is comparatively respectable,
+and so is the adjutant--or comparatively almost respectable, let us say;
+you can't be too cautious in giving a personal character to a stork.
+For long, long, the stork has enjoyed a reputation for solemn wisdom,
+for philosophical dignity. Now for the first time I venture to question
+this reputation--to impeach the stork as a humbug. It is easy to achieve
+a reputation for profound and ponderous wisdom, so long as one looks
+very solemn and says nothing. This is the stork's recipe. Go up to Billy
+here, or one of the marabous, as he stands with his shoulders humped up
+about his head, and make a joke. He won't see it. He will lift his
+eyebrows with a certain look of contempt, and continue to
+cogitate--about nothing. If the joke is a very bad pun--such a frightful
+pun that even a stork will see and resent it--perhaps he will chatter
+his beak savagely, with a noise like the clatter of the lid on an empty
+cigar-box; but he will continue his sham meditations. "Ah, my friend,"
+he seems to say, "you are empty and frivolous--I cogitate the profounder
+immensities of esoteric cogibundity." The fact being that he is very
+seedy after his previous night's dissipation.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+That is the chief secret of the stork's solemnity, I am convinced. He
+has a certain reputation to maintain before visitors, but after hours,
+when the gates are shut and the keepers are not there to see, the
+marabou stork is a sad dog. I haven't quite made up my mind what he
+drinks, but if he has brandies and sodas he leaves out too much soda.
+Look at that awful nose! It is long past the crimson and pimply
+stage--it is taking a decided tinge of blue. It _looks_ worse than
+brandy and soda--almost like bad gin--but we will be as charitable as
+possible, and only call it brandy and soda.
+
+I should like to see the marabou stork on his nightly ran-tan, if only
+to gloat over his lapse of dignity, just as one would give much to see
+Benjamin Franklin with his face blacked, drunk and disorderly and being
+locked up. But, as a shocking example, the marabou is quite bad enough
+with his awful head in the morning; his awful head and his disreputable
+nose, that looks to want a good scraping. I respect Billy, the adjutant,
+for his long service and the Tangerine at the back of his neck. The
+ordinary stork (although he swears and snaps) I also respect, because
+the goody books used to tell pious lies about him. The whale-headed
+stork, which is also called the shoe-bird, I respect as a sort of
+relative of the shoo-fly that didn't bother somebody. But the marabou
+has forfeited all respect--converted it into nose-tint. I must talk to
+Church seriously about the marabou.
+
+[Illustration: THE RAN-TAN.]
+
+Now, the pelican is no humbug. There is nothing like concealment about
+his little dissipations; and he is perfectly sober. Any little
+irregularity at the pelican club just opposite the eastern aviary never
+goes beyond a quiet round or two for a little fish dinner. It is quite a
+select and a most proper club. Indeed, the first rule is, that if any
+loose fish be found on the club premises, he is got rid of at once by
+the first member who detects him. And the club spirit is such that
+disputes frequently occur among members for the honour of carrying out
+this salutary rule. The chairman of the club is an old crested pelican,
+who, by some oversight, has never been provided with a private name of
+his own. I think he should be called Peter, because he can take such a
+miraculous draught of fishes. It _is_ a draught; you know--a pelican
+doesn't eat fishes--he drinks them down in bulk. For Peter, a dozen or
+so fresh herrings is a mere swill round of the mouth.
+
+[Illustration: A QUIET ROUND OR TWO.]
+
+Peter walks about the club premises with much dignity, deferred to on
+all sides by the other members. His kingship is rarely disputed, having
+been achieved by the sort of conquest most familiar in the pelican club;
+and his divine right is as much respected as his tremendous left.
+
+A pelican never bears malice; he hasn't time, especially now, with
+competition so keen in the fish business, and Church's fish pails only
+of the ordinary size. There is never any ill-feeling after a little
+spar, and each proceeds, in the most amicable way, to steal some other
+pelican's fish. A spar at this club, by-the-bye, is a joyous and
+hilarious sight. Two big birds with stumpy legs and top-heavy beaks,
+solemnly prancing and manoeuvring before one another with an
+accompaniment of valiant gobbles and a punctuation of occasional
+pecks--a gleesome spectacle.
+
+[Illustration: PETER.]
+
+[Illustration: A SWILL ROUND.]
+
+Another sport much exhibited at the pelican club is that of
+the broadsword. The school of fence is that of Mr. Vincent
+Crummies--one--two--three--four--over; one--two--three--four--under.
+You see, when a dozen or two birds with beaks a couple of feet long or
+so get together in a small area, and now and again rush all in the same
+direction for fish, fencing is certain to develop, sooner or later. So
+here you have it, _secundum artem_--one--two--three--four--over;
+one--two--three--four--under; and although none have yet attained the
+Crummleian degree of knocking out sparks, there is a deal of hollow
+noise, as of thumping on a wooden box. But there is never any
+after-malice, and in less than five minutes either combatant will
+swallow a fish rightfully belonging to the other, with perfect
+affability.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+There is a good deal of the philosopher about the pelican, and of a more
+genuine sort than characterizes the stork. The pelican always makes the
+best of a bad job, without going into an unnecessary tantrum over it. If
+another member of the club snatches a fish first, the pelican doesn't
+bother, but devotes his attention to the next that Church throws; a fish
+in the pouch is worth a shoal in somebody else's. Now and again Peter
+loses his temper for a moment if the others catch the first snack, and
+lays about him with his bill--but then, when a fellow's chairman, and a
+lot of other fellows come snatching the lunch from under his nose--why,
+hang it all, you know.... But it is only for a moment, and Peter is soon
+in position for the next pouchful. He is artful about this position.
+When Church appears at the rails with a pailful of fish most of the
+members rush to those rails, jostle together and shove their beaks
+through them and over them--any way to get nearer the pail. But the
+chairman knows very well that Church doesn't throw the fish outside the
+rails, but into the inclosure, somewhere near the middle; and near the
+middle the sagacious Peter waits, to his early profit--unless Church is
+unusually slow about throwing the fish, in which case Peter is apt to
+let his excitement steal his sagacity, and to rush into the pell-mell,
+anxious to investigate the delay.
+
+[Illustration: A LITTLE SOLEING AND HEELING.]
+
+There is a deal of excellent wear in a pelican. One has been here about
+thirty years, and two more have been established on the same premises
+for a quarter of a century. All these three are in capital working
+repair and will probably last, with a patch or two, and a little soleing
+and heeling, for a century or two more; no respectable pelican is ever
+bowled out for less than three figures.
+
+In the winter the club takes up its quarters in the shed behind the
+inclosure; a shed sumptuously furnished with certain benches and forms,
+whereon the club stands in rows, with a general appearance of a number
+of very solemn naughty boys in a Board school. In winter, too, Church
+will often put his bucketful of fish on the ground, so that the club may
+dine in a clubbier way. But whether you watch this club feeding together
+from the pail, each member doing his best to put away the whole pailful
+at a gulp, or whether you observe them playing a sort of greedy game of
+lacrosse with fish which Church throws them, you will be equally amazed
+that the pelican was used as a symbol of charity and brotherly love in
+early and middle Christian art.
+
+[Illustration: SCHOOL.]
+
+[Illustration: CLUB DINNER.]
+
+I have seen a pelican enact a most instructive moral lesson at a
+pail-dinner. Observe the bill and pouch of a pelican. The pouch is an
+elastic fishing-net, and the lower mandible is a mere flexible frame to
+carry it. Now, I have observed a pelican to make a bounce at the
+fish-pail, with outspread wings, and scoop the whole supply. But then
+his trouble began. The whole catch hung weightily low in the end of the
+pouch, and jerk and heave as he might, he could never lift the load at
+the end of that long beak sufficiently high to bolt it. Meanwhile, his
+friends collected about him and remonstrated, with many flops and
+gobbles, betting him all his fish to nothing that he would lose it after
+all; this way they chased that bag, and that way, while the bagger, in
+much trepidation and with many desperate heaves, wildly sought remote
+corners away from his persecutors. Now, by the corner of the club
+premises stands an appliance, the emblem of authority, the instrument of
+justice, and the terror of the evilly-disposed pelican--a birch-broom.
+This, brandished in the hands of Church, caused a sudden and awful
+collapse of the drag-nets, an opening, a shower of fish and many snaps;
+wherefrom walked away many pelicans with fish, and one with none, who
+had looked to take all. The moral is plain to the verge of ugliness.
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+A pelican has no tongue--or none to speak of. It is a mere little knob
+scarcely the size of a cherry. The long, long meditations of the pelican
+(lasting between feeding times) are given up to consideration whether or
+not the disgrace of this deficiency is counter-balanced by the greater
+capacity for fish which it gives the pouch. After all, it is only
+another instance of that commercial honesty which makes the pelican pay
+for his beak out of his legs; he gives his tongue for a pouch. There
+should be a legend of the pelican applying honestly to Adam to buy a
+pouch, and the wily stork waiting and waiting on the chance of snatching
+one without paying for it, until all had been served out; afterwards
+living all its life on earth in covetous dudgeon, unconsoled by its
+wealth of beak, legs, wings, and neck, and pining hopelessly for the
+lost pouch. There are many legends of this sort which ought to exist,
+but don't, owing to the negligence of Indian solar myth merchants, or
+whoever it is has charge of that class of misrepresentation.
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+The pelican can fly, although you would never believe it, to look at the
+club members here. To a Zoo pelican a flight of two feet is an
+undertaking to be approached with much circumspection and preparation,
+and a summoning of resolution and screwing of courage proper to the
+magnitude of the feat. It takes a long time to learn to fly on to a
+bottom-up bucket. The Zoo pelican begins on a shadow--not a very dark
+one at first--and works his way up by jumping over, darker shadows to
+straws and pebbles, before he tries a bucket. The accomplished
+bucket-jumper makes a long preliminary survey and circumnavigation of
+his bucket before performing, and when he does begin it is with a number
+of wild rushes and irresolute stops. When at last he gets the proper
+length of run, and the right foot in front, and doesn't see anything to
+baulk him, he rises with a great effort, and all the lookers-on who
+don't know him stare up over the trees, and are astonished to find him,
+after all, only on the bucket. His pinions are cut, poor fellow! If they
+were not, what would become of the fishmongers' shops?
+
+
+
+
+_Shafts from an Eastern Quiver_.
+
+IX.--MAW-SAYAH: THE KEEPER OF THE GREAT BURMAN NAT.
+
+By Charles J. Mansford, B.A.
+
+
+I.
+
+"The fine points of an elephant, sahib," said our guide Hassan, "are a
+colour approaching to white, the nails perfectly black, and an intact
+tail."
+
+"I am glad to hear that an elephant has some qualities which recommend
+it," said Denviers, good-humouredly. "I should think that the one upon
+which we are riding is about as lazy as it is possible to be. I suppose
+slowness is an unusually good point, isn't it, Hassan?" The Arab, who
+was sitting before us on the elephant, gave it a stir with the
+sharply-pointed spear which he held in his hand to urge it on, and then
+glancing back at us, as we reclined lazily in the cushioned howdah, he
+said inquiringly: "Are the sahibs tired already of travelling thus? Yet
+we have fully two hours' journey before us."
+
+"Hassan," I interposed, "this is a good opportunity for you to tell us
+exactly what you heard about that Maw-Sayah when we were at Bhamo. It is
+in consequence of that, indeed, that we are going to try to get among
+these strange Kachyens; but as we are not quite sure of the details, you
+may as well repeat them."
+
+"The sahib shall be obeyed," responded our guide, and although careful
+to keep a good watch in front, he turned his body slightly towards us as
+he prepared to begin the narrative.
+
+[Illustration: "THE SAHIB SHALL BE OBEYED."]
+
+On reaching Burmah we stayed for several days in Rangoon, the Queen of
+the East as it is called nowadays, although only remarkable formerly for
+its famous monasteries of Talapoins and as a halting-place for the bands
+of pilgrims on their way to the mighty Shway Dagohn pagoda. Thence we
+journeyed up the Irawaddy, and having duly paid reverence to some of the
+nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine pagodas of Pagan--the outcast
+slaves of which city seemed a strange contrast to its otherwise absolute
+desertion--we continued our journey by steamer as far as Mandalay.
+Having endured the doubtful pleasure of a jaunt in a seatless, jolting
+bullock-carriage--the bruises from which were not easily forgotten--we
+eventually reached Bhamo, where Hassan entered into conversation with a
+hill-man. From the latter he learnt a strange story, which was later on
+told to us and the truth of which we hoped before long to fully test,
+for soon afterwards we set out on an elephant, our faithful guide in
+this new adventure again proving himself of the greatest service.
+
+"Now, Hassan," said Denviers, "we are quite ready to hear this story
+fully, but don't add any imaginary details of your own."
+
+"By the Koran, sahib," began the Arab, "these are the words which were
+those of him to whom I spoke under the shade of the log stockade."
+
+"Which are, of course, unimpeachable," responded Denviers. "Anyone could
+tell that from his shifty eyes, which failed to rest upon us fixed even
+for a minute when we spoke to him afterwards." The Arab seemed a little
+disconcerted at this, but soon continued:--
+
+"The great Spirits or Nats, who guard the prosperity of Burmah, have
+become greatly incensed with the Kachyens, not because they failed to
+resist stoutly when the monarch was deposed a few years ago----"
+
+"Then we are to have a modern story, this time, Hassan?" interrupted
+Denviers. "I quite expected that you would commence with some long
+worn-out tradition."
+
+"The sahibs shall hear," the Arab went on. "No one who offends the Nats
+of Burmah need expect anything but evil to follow. There are the Nats of
+the sky, the Nats of the earth, the Nats of the Irawaddy, the Nats of
+the five hundred little rivers, and the thousand Nats which guarded the
+sacred person of the monarch----"
+
+"Yes, Hassan," said Denviers, impatiently, "you mentioned them all
+before. We haven't time to hear the list enumerated now; go on about
+this one particular Nat which you say is causing such havoc among the
+hill-tribes."
+
+"Patience, sahib. The Nats were justly roused to anger because the
+deposed monarch was not afterwards taken to the water's edge riding upon
+an elephant instead of in a bullock-carriage."
+
+"Well, Hassan," said Denviers, "judging from our own experience the Nats
+seem to be pretty sensible, I must say--but how do they affect the peace
+of mind of the Kachyens?"
+
+"Listen, sahib. High among the hills which may be seen stretching before
+us lies a village in which many of the Kachyens dwell, their occupation
+being sometimes that of tillers of the land, but more often consisting
+in planning and carrying out raids upon other hill-men, or of descending
+at times to the plains, and there looting the towns wherein dwell more
+peaceable tribes. In all their forays they had been successful, for
+whenever their trusty dahs or swords were drawn, those who opposed them
+invariably obtained the worst of the encounter. So powerful did they
+become that at last those dwelling in the plains--Shans, Karenns, and
+Talaings, too--made no resistance against their attacks; and when they
+saw the produce of their fields carried away, thought themselves happy
+not to have been slain. The reason why the Kachyens became so successful
+in all they undertook was that a powerful forest Nat placed them under
+its protection, and hence they could not be harmed by their foes.
+
+"Now it chanced that the King was in great danger through following the
+advice of his impetuous ministers, whereupon he summoned the Kachyens to
+his assistance--for their fame as warriors had reached his ears long
+before. But they, confident of securing their own safety whatever
+happened to the monarch, refused to obey his command to march against
+the Burman foes. The consequence was that when the indignity which I
+have mentioned was offered to the deposed monarch, the Nats throughout
+Burmah were furious with that one who ruled the village in which the
+Kachyens dwelt, and they sent some of their number to destroy it. The
+latter, however, appeased them by making a grim promise, which has been
+only too faithfully kept.
+
+"A few days afterwards a hill-man, who was clearing a part of the land
+on the woody slope of the height, _saw the Nat_, which had never before
+been visible, and, terrified at the strange form which it had assumed,
+he ran hastily to the rest of the tribe, and, gathering them together,
+held a consultation as to what should be done to appease it. Some
+suggested that upon every tree trunk should be scratched appealing
+messages, which the Nat might read; others were in favour of placing a
+huge heap of spears and swords near the spot where the embodied Nat had
+been seen in order that it might be tempted to destroy all those who
+urged it to injure them. The messages and weapons, however, when placed
+for the Nat to observe did no good, for one dreadful night a rattling
+was heard of the bamboos, which lay before one of the Kachyen's huts,
+and the man, going hastily to see what caused it, was swiftly carried
+away in the darkness without apparently uttering a single cry! For many
+nights in succession a similar scene was enacted, for he at whose door
+the dire summons came dared not refuse to answer it lest the whole
+household might perish.
+
+"Nothing more was ever seen of those thus strangely carried off, and the
+Kachyens, each of whom feared that his own end might come next,
+determined to consult some famous Buddhist priests who dwelt not far
+from them, and who held charge over the famous marble slabs which the
+great War Prince of Burmah had caused to be engraved concerning their
+illustrious traditions. The man whom ye saw me conversing with by the
+stockade was the one whom the tribe intrusted with the task; but the
+priests, after much consideration among themselves of the object of his
+visit, refused to have anything to do with such a tragic affair, and
+thereupon dismissed their suppliant.
+
+[Illustration: "THE BUDDHIST PRIESTS."]
+
+"This Kachyen, when sorrowfully returning towards the hills, fearing
+that the tribe would destroy him because of his non-success, chanced to
+meet on his way a Mogul, to whom he repeated the story. The latter,
+laying his hand on his red-dyed and fierce-looking beard, advised the
+Kachyen to enter a hole in the mountain side and to consult a famous
+Maw-Sayah, or juggler, who dwelt there. This juggler promised assistance
+if the tribe would pay him a great reward in the event of his success,
+and when they agreed to this he entered the village and waited for dusk
+to arrive. Again the dreadful rattling was heard, and another Kachyen
+stepped out to meet his fate. None of the tribe dared to look at what
+transpired, except the juggler, and he too disappeared! The next
+morning, however, he came into the village and called its inhabitants
+together. When they had solemnly agreed to his conditions, he stated
+that the Nat was bent upon destroying them all, and that to attempt to
+escape by means of flight would only lead to quicker death. Then he told
+them what the result of his intercession for them had been.
+
+"The Nat had been persuaded to destroy only one victim on each seventh
+evening at dusk, and had appointed him to see that certain conditions
+were not broken. He was to have a hut at his disposal, and into this the
+men were to go by lot, and thus the Nat would obtain a victim when the
+time came round. They were forbidden to wander about after sunset, and
+whatever noises were made not to hearken to them, since the Maw-Sayah
+would see that the others were unharmed. So long had this dreadful
+destruction lasted that more than one-half of the men in the Kachyen
+village, or town, as it might well be called from the large number who
+inhabited it, had perished, and yet the Nat still demanded a victim, and
+the Maw-Sayah is there to see that the compact is fulfilled. The man who
+told this story, sahibs, declares that the keeper of the Nat has by this
+means obtained sway over the Kachyens to such an extent that they have
+become his abject slaves, for the custom of drawing lots has been
+abolished, and he selects whom he will to sacrifice to the Nat. By some
+means this Kachyen offended the Maw-Sayah, who thereupon condemned him,
+but he, in terror of the sudden and silent death in store for him, fled
+to Bhamo, where he lives in momentary fear of destruction. Such then,
+sahibs, is the story, and it is to see this Maw-Sayah and the Nat at
+their fell work to-night that even now our faces are turned to the high
+land before us, up which we must climb, for there is but one narrow
+pathway leading to the village."
+
+Hassan ceased, and then Denviers turned to me as he said:--
+
+"I think that this Maw-Sayah, as Hassan calls him, has about as much
+faith in Nats as we have. It suits his purpose to league himself with
+something mysterious; whatever it is we will try to find out," and he
+glanced at the weapons which we carried.
+
+
+II.
+
+"The sahibs must dismount here", said Hassan shortly afterwards, and
+following to the ground our guide, we began to climb the mountain path
+which stretched before us. The ascent was exceedingly steep, and several
+times we stopped to rest after pushing our way through the tangled
+masses which almost hid the path, which was itself cut here and there
+apparently through the rocky strata. When we had reached about
+three-fourths of our journey Hassan stopped and pointed out to us one of
+the thatched roofs of a hut, which seemed in the distance scarcely
+noticeable until his keen eyesight discovered it. The village, we found,
+lay a little to the left of the mountain path, for on nearing the summit
+we found ourselves passing through a peculiar avenue of trees
+interspersed with long bamboo poles. From the tops of the latter there
+were stretched across the approach strong, rough-looking cords, which
+supported various uncouth emblems, and among which were large triangles,
+circles, and stars, cut apparently out of the stems of huge bamboos.
+After traversing this avenue for nearly three hundred yards we saw the
+tree trunks which Hassan had mentioned, and which were deeply scarred
+with cabalistic messages to the fierce Nat, which we could not of course
+understand. Affixed to some of the trees farther on we saw a number of
+spears and dahs mingled with shorter weapons, the latter being made of
+some species of hard wood, and close to them we observed the skulls of
+several large animals, one of which we judged was that of an elephant.
+
+[Illustration: "THE AVENUE."]
+
+In spite of the fact that the village was a large one, the buildings
+were of a very primitive construction, being made of bamboos with
+thatched coverings, reaching almost to the piles on which the huts were
+placed. We did not observe any openings made to serve as windows, the
+only ones noticeable being those by which the Kachyens entered, placed
+above a bamboo ladder, which seemed to, serve instead of steps. Although
+the sun had scarcely set, the village was wrapped in a strange silence,
+the sound of our footsteps alone being heard. The smoke that seemed to
+be forcing its way through stray holes in the thatch amply convinced us,
+however, that the inhabitants were within doors, and, turning to our
+Arab guide, I asked him if he could distinguish among the many huts the
+one in which we expected to find the Maw-Sayah. He seemed a little
+uncertain at first, but after wandering through the village together we
+returned, and then Hassan, who had been very observant the whole time,
+pointed to one of the rudely-constructed huts and said:--
+
+"I think that is the one into which we seek to enter; it is situated
+according to the position in which the Kachyen said it was, and,
+besides, it bears a strange proof of the story which ye have listened to
+with such ill-concealed disbelief."
+
+"Why do you think that is the hut, Hassan?" I asked, for, to my eyes, no
+difference between that and the others close to it was distinguishable.
+
+"If the sahib will look at the bamboo ladder and observe it carefully,
+he will see that it is unlike the others round," said the Arab.
+
+"I suppose you refer to these deep scratches upon it, don't you,
+Hassan?" asked Denviers, as he pointed to some marks, a few of which
+were apparently fairly recent.
+
+"The sahib guesses rightly," answered our guide. "You will remember that
+the Kachyen stated to me that the Nat is accustomed to obtain its victim
+now from the abode of the Maw-Sayah; those marks, then, have been made
+by it when it dragged its human prey out of the hut." We gazed curiously
+at the marks for a few minutes, then Denviers broke the silence by
+asking the Arab why it was that the Nat made marks at all.
+
+"I should have thought that such a powerful spirit could prevent such
+evidences of its presence becoming observed," he continued. "My respect
+for it is certainly not increased by seeing those deep scars; they seem
+to be made by something which has sharp claws."
+
+"That is because of the shape which it has assumed, sahib," said the
+Arab, "for the Nats have wondrous powers----"
+
+"Very likely, Hassan," interposed Denviers; "I suppose they can do
+exactly what they like, can they not?" I was much surprised at the limit
+which was, however, placed upon their powers by our guide, for he
+responded quickly:--
+
+"Not altogether, sahib. There is one thing that a Nat cannot do,
+according to the reports of these Kachyens, and that is, they are unable
+to move in a direction which is not straight, and hence they are careful
+to avoid rough ground, where tangled masses and boulders bar their
+progress, so they usually frequent the open avenues, such as the one
+which we have just passed through. The symbols above it and the writings
+and weapons are all for the Nat's benefit."
+
+"And the elephant's skull?" asked Denviers, irreverently. "What is that
+put up for?" The Arab, however, had an explanation ready, for he
+promptly replied:--
+
+"That indicates where the supplies of food are to be found when the Nat
+requires any." Denviers turned to me for a moment as he said:--
+
+"I should have thought it a good plan, then, to have put it upon the hut
+of this Maw-Sayah whom we are about to interview. See that your weapons
+are in good order, Harold, we may soon need them." Giving a cautious
+look at my belt and the weapons thrust into it, I followed Denviers, who
+had mounted the short bamboo ladder, and was endeavouring to obtain
+admission to the hut. We heard a harsh sound within, then the cry of
+someone apparently terror-stricken, and a moment afterwards we had
+pushed past the Maw-Sayah, who by no means was willing to allow us to
+enter the rude dwelling.
+
+The single room, which seemed to constitute the hut, was extremely low
+and bare of furniture entirely. A few bamboos were spread in one part of
+it, while at the far end was a fire, the light from which was partly
+obscured by the smoke, which almost suffocated us, so thickly did it
+roll up and then spread through the hut. Near the door stood a man
+scarcely clothed, upon whose face we saw a look of the most abject
+terror, for, as we surmised, the noise of our entry was mistaken by him
+for the approach of the fell thing to which he was condemned by the
+Maw-Sayah. We moved towards the latter as he threw himself down by the
+fire, which he had only left to see who it was that came unbidden to the
+hut where to enter was the preceding event to death. He was clothed in a
+long blue strip of linen, which wound round his waist and covered his
+body, partly leaving his dark chest uncovered. His features were stamped
+with an appearance of supreme cunning, his oblique eyes reminding us of
+a Chinaman, while the fierce look in them as they glared at us from
+either side of an aquiline nose, which betrayed his Burmese descent, did
+not increase our confidence in the man as he stretched out his bony
+hands over the fire as if for warmth, although outside the hut we had
+found the heat almost insupportable.
+
+"What do ye seek?" he demanded, as he looked into our faces in turn and
+seemed astonished at our strange features.
+
+"We are travellers who wished to see a Kachyen village," responded
+Denviers, "and we further desired to see some of its inhabitants; but
+as none were visible we entered this hut, even against your will. Where
+are the people who dwell here?" The man whom my companion addressed
+pointed to the Kachyen near the doorway, as he responded:--
+
+"There is one of them, and in a short time even he will never be seen
+again."
+
+[Illustration: "WHAT DO YE SEEK?"]
+
+"Can you give us food?" hazarded Hassan, in order to get the man to
+continue his conversation, for the Arab evidently was expecting that the
+Nat would soon arrive upon the scene. The Maw-Sayah rose and pointed to
+the entrance as he cried:--
+
+"That way ye came, that way shall ye depart. Food for ye I have not, nor
+would I give it if I had." I turned to Denviers and said in a low
+tone:--
+
+"What shall we do, Frank? I don't think our opportunity of seeing what
+may transpire will be as good within the hut as without it. Whatever the
+solution is to this affair, if we are outside we shall see this Kachyen
+dragged away, and may further watch the approach of whatever caused
+those strange marks which we observed."
+
+"One thing is clear," said my companion, "we will attempt to save this
+intended victim, at all events. I expect that if we tried we could get
+him away easily enough, but that plan would not be of much service. We
+must attack this being, whatever it is, with which this Maw-Sayah is
+leagued. How I should like to hand him over as a victim instead of that
+trembling captive by the door. It shows to what extent this juggler has
+acquired power over this tribe, for I notice that his captive is
+unbound, and is certainly a much finer built man than the other."
+
+"It wants less than an hour to dusk, sahibs," said Hassan, who had
+listened carefully to our remarks; "if we were to station ourselves a
+little away from the hut we could see what took place, and if the Nat
+were mortal we might attack it."
+
+Denviers shrugged his shoulders at the Arab's supposition as he
+responded:--
+
+"There is little doubt, Hassan, that the Nat would smart if that keen
+blade of yours went a little too near it, but I think your plan is a
+good one, and we will adopt it, as it falls in with what has already
+been said." We gave a final look at the crafty face of the man who was
+still seated by the fire, and then brushing past the captive we made for
+the open village again.
+
+"I feel sorry for this Kachyen," said Denviers. "He will have a dreadful
+five minutes of it, I expect; but it is our only way of preventing, if
+possible, such an affair from occurring again." On leaving the hut we
+stationed ourselves almost opposite to it, and then began to keep watch.
+What we should see pass up the avenue we could only surmise, but our
+suppositions certainly did not lead us to imagine in the faintest degree
+the sight which before long was destined to completely startle us.
+
+
+III.
+
+The grey dusk was becoming night when among the dark stems of the trees
+we saw some black form move over the ground. We could scarcely
+distinguish it as it crawled over the bamboo logs and made a rasping
+noise as it clung to the ladder. The door of the hut yielded to it, and
+a minute after it again emerged and bore with it the terrified Kachyen.
+We crept after it as it dragged its captive down the avenue, striving
+our utmost to make out its shape. One thing we could tell, which was
+that the creature was not upright; but our movement behind it was
+apparently known, for it struggled to move quicker over the ground with
+its human burden.
+
+[Illustration: "IT AGAIN EMERGED."]
+
+"Shall I shoot it?" I whispered to Denviers, as my nerves seemed to be
+almost unstrung at the unknowableness of the creeping thing.
+
+"You would more likely kill the man," he responded. "Follow as
+noiselessly as you can--it will not let its prey escape, be sure of
+that. Once we track it to its haunt we will soon dispatch it, big and
+fierce as it seems."
+
+We drew nearer and nearer to it, until it had passed half-way down the
+avenue, then it seemed to become lost to our view, although we were, as
+we knew, close to it. I felt Denviers' hand upon my shoulder, and then
+he whispered:--
+
+"The Kachyen is being dragged up a tree just in front--look!" I could
+just distinguish something moving up the trunk, when suddenly the
+captive, who had hitherto been apparently paralyzed with terror, uttered
+a cry and then must have succeeded in disengaging himself from the
+dreadful thing that had held him, for the noise of someone falling to
+the ground was heard, and a minute after we distinguished the form of a
+man rushing headlong back to the village for safety.
+
+We did not anticipate such an event, and were contemplating a search for
+the captor of the Kachyen, when a cold sweat broke out upon me, for the
+clammy claws of the man-hunter had touched me! The sensation which
+seized me was only of short duration, for I felt myself released just as
+Denviers said:--
+
+"Harold, the Kachyen has fled, and his captor, determined to secure its
+prey, has betaken its crawling body after him. If only we had a light! I
+saw something like a black shadow moving onwards; get your pistol ready
+and follow." I just distinguished Denviers as he passed on in front of
+me, Hassan coming last. When we reached the hut of the Maw-Sayah we
+stopped at once, for, from the cry which came from it, we rightly
+surmised that the terrible seeker for human prey had made for this
+place, thinking, in its dull intelligence, that its captive had
+returned. We thrust ourselves into the hut, and saw by the red firelight
+a sanguinary contest between the Maw-Sayah and the black object which we
+had endeavoured to track. Thinking that the Kachyen was being destroyed,
+the juggler had not fastened his door, and the enraged man-eater had
+seized him as he rested on the ground, quite at its mercy!
+
+The Maw-Sayah was struggling with his bony hands to extricate himself
+from the clutches of a monstrous tree-spider! We had seen, on an island
+in the South Seas, several cocoa-nut crabs, and this reptile somewhat
+resembled them, but was even larger. Grasping the juggler with several
+of its long, furry-looking claws, it fixed its glaring red eyes in mad
+anger upon him as he grasped in each hand one of its front pair of
+legs, which were armed with strong, heavy-looking pincers. He besought
+us wildly to shoot, even if we killed him, held as he was by his
+relentless foe.
+
+"Harold," cried my companion, "keep clear, and look out for yourself
+when I fire at this reptile; most likely it will make for one of us." He
+drew right close to it, and thrusting the barrel of his pistol between
+its eyes touched the trigger. The explosion shook the hut, its effect
+upon the spider being to cause it to rush frantically about the floor,
+dragging the Maw-Sayah as if he were some slight burden scarcely
+observable.
+
+[Illustration: "A RELENTLESS FOE."]
+
+"You missed it!" I cried. "Look out, Hassan, guard the doorway!" The
+Arab stood, sword in hand, waiting for it to make for the entrance,
+while Denviers exclaimed:--
+
+"I shot it through the head!" and a minute afterwards the trueness of
+his aim was manifest, for the claws released, and the Maw-Sayah, wounded
+badly, but saved, stood free from the muscular twitchings of the dead
+spider.
+
+"You scoundrel!" said Denviers to him, "I have a good mind to serve you
+the same. You deserve to die as so many of these simple-minded,
+credulous Kachyens have done." I thought for one brief second that my
+companion was about to kill the juggler, for through all our adventures
+I had never seen him so thoroughly roused. I stood between them; then,
+when Denviers quickly recovered his self-command, I turned to the
+Maw-Sayah and asked:--
+
+"If we spare your life, will you promise to leave this village and never
+to return?" He turned his evil-looking but scared face towards us
+eagerly as he replied:--
+
+"I will do whatever you wish." Denviers motioned to him to rest upon the
+ground, which he did, then turning to me, said:--
+
+"It is pretty apparent what this juggler has done. The man who first
+reported the discovery of this Nat, as the foolish Kachyens call it,
+simply disturbed a monstrous spider which had lived in the trees which
+he felled--that accounts for his seeing it. Finding animal food scarce,
+the reptile ventured into this village and tried to get into one of the
+huts. Its exertions were rewarded by the Kachyen coming to the door,
+whom it accordingly seized. To continue its plan, which proved so
+successful, needed very little reasoning power on the part of such a
+cunning creature. No doubt this Maw-Sayah purposely left the door of his
+hut unfastened each seventh night, and the spider thus became accustomed
+to seek for its victim there, I daresay it came the other nights, but
+the juggler was then careful enough to keep his hut well fastened."
+
+"What do the sahibs propose to do?" interrupted Hassan. Denviers turned
+to him, as he responded:--
+
+"We will wait for daybreak; then, having dragged the dead spider out
+where the Kachyens may see that it is no longer able to harm them, we
+will take this Maw-Sayah down the mountain path away from the village as
+poor as he came."
+
+[Illustration: "YOU SCOUNDREL!"]
+
+"A good plan," I assented, and we followed it out, eventually leaving
+the juggler, and climbing once more into the howdah upon the elephant,
+which we found close to the spot where we had left it, secured from
+wandering far away by the rope which Hassan had used to hinder its
+movements.
+
+We entered Bhamo, and while we took a much-needed rest, our guide--as we
+afterwards learnt--searched for and found the fugitive Kachyen, who, on
+hearing that his safety was secured, hastily departed to the village to
+rejoice with the rest of his tribe that the so-called Nat would not do
+them any more injury.
+
+
+
+
+_From Behind the Speaker's Chair._
+
+III.
+
+(VIEWED BY HENRY W. LUCY.)
+
+[Illustration: "OBSTRUCTION."]
+
+It is thirteen years since a new Parliament last blithely started on its
+way with Mr. Gladstone sitting in the seat of the Premier. Since March,
+1880, a great deal has happened, not least in the change of
+circumstances under which the business of the House of Commons is
+conducted. The majority of the House of Commons may be Liberal or
+Conservative, according to a passing flood of conviction on the part of
+the constituencies. When presumptuous hands are stretched forth to touch
+the Ark of its procedure, its instincts are all Tory. For more than two
+hundred years preceding the advent of a Tory Ministry in 1886, this was
+so. Mr. Gladstone, driven to desperation in the second Session of the
+Parliament of 1880-5, endeavoured to reform procedure so that
+obstruction might be fought on even terms. He was met by such resolute
+and persistent opposition from the Conservative side that, even with an
+overwhelming majority at his back, he succeeded only in tinkering the
+pot. Oddly enough, it was left for the Conservatives when they came into
+office to revolutionize the system upon which, through the ages,
+Parliamentary business had been carried on.
+
+There was nothing in the reforms more startling to the old
+Parliamentarian than the proposal automatically to close debate at
+midnight. A dozen years ago members of the House of Commons assembled at
+four o'clock for prayers. Questions began at half-past four, and no one
+could say at what hour of the night or of the next morning the cry "Who
+goes home?" might echo through the lobby. In those days Mr. O'Donnell
+was master of the situation, and he had many imitators. A debate carried
+on through several nights might seem to be approaching a conclusion. The
+Leader of the Opposition, rising between eleven o'clock and midnight,
+spoke in a crowded House. The Premier, or his lieutenant, followed,
+assuming to wind up the debate. Members wearied of the long sitting were
+prepared to go forth to the division lobby; when from below the gangway
+on the left there uprose a familiar figure, and there was heard a
+well-known voice.
+
+[Illustration: F. H. O'DONNELL.]
+
+These usually belonged to Mr. O'Donnell bent upon vindicating the right
+of a private member to interpose when the constituted authorities of the
+House had agreed in the opinion that a debate had been continued long
+enough. A roar of execration from the fagged legislators greeted the
+intruder. He expected this, and was in no degree perturbed. In earliest
+practice he had a way of dropping his eye-glass as if startled by the
+uproar, and searched for it with puzzled, preoccupied expression,
+apparently debating with himself what this outburst might portend. He
+did not love the British House of Commons, and delighted in thwarting
+its purposes. But he knew what was due to it in the way of respect, and,
+however angry passions might rise, however turbulent the scene, he would
+never address it looking upon it with the naked eye. As his eye-glass
+was constantly tumbling out, and as search for it was preternaturally
+deliberate, it played an appreciable part in the prolongation of
+successive Sessions.
+
+[Illustration: "EYE-GLASS PLAY."]
+
+What has become of Frank Hugh now, I wonder? Vanishing from the House of
+Commons, he reappeared for a while on the scene, characteristically
+acting the part of the petrel that heralded the storm Mr. Pigott
+ineffectively tried to ride. It must be a consolation to Mr. O'Donnell,
+in his retirement, wherever it is passed, to reflect on the fact that it
+was he who directly brought about the appointment of the Parnell
+Commission, with all it effected. His action for libel brought against
+the _Times_ preluded and inevitably led up to the formal investigation
+of the famous Charges and Allegations.
+
+The member for Dungarvan was, in his day, the most thoroughly disliked
+man in the House of Commons, distaste for Mr. Parnell and for Mr. Biggar
+in his early prime being softened by contrast with his subtler
+provocation. An exceedingly clever debater, he was a phrase maker, some
+of whose epigrams Mr. Disraeli would not have disowned. He was a
+parliamentary type of ancient standing, and apparently ineradicable
+growth. In the present House of Commons fresh developments are presented
+by Mr. Seymour Keay and Mr. Morton. These are distinct varieties, but
+from the unmistakable root. Both are gifted with boundless volubility,
+unhampered by ordinary considerations of coherency and cogency. Neither
+is influenced by that sense of the dread majesty of the House of Commons
+which keeps some members dumb all through their parliamentary life, and
+to the last, as in the case of Mr. Bright, weighs upon even great
+orators. The difference between the older and the new development is
+that whilst over Mr. O'Donnell's intentional and deliberate vacuity of
+speech there gleamed frequent flashes of wit, Mr. Morton and Mr. Keay
+are only occasionally funny, and then the effect was undesigned.
+
+[Illustration: O'DONNELL'S LAST APPEARANCE.]
+
+[Illustration: MR. SEYMOUR KEAY.]
+
+Since we have these two gentlemen still with us, it would be rash to say
+that if Mr. O'Donnell could revisit the glimpses of Big Ben he would
+find his occupation gone. He would certainly discover that his
+opportunities had been limited, and would have to recommence practice
+under greatly altered conditions. One of the former member for
+Dungarvan's famous achievements took place in the infancy of the
+Parliament of 1880-5, and, apart from its dramatic interest, is valuable
+as illustrating the change effected in parliamentary procedure by the
+New Rules. On that particular June night the paper was loaded with
+questions in a fashion unfamiliar in the last Parliament, though there
+are not lacking signs of renewed activity since political parties
+changed places. Question No. 23 stood in the name of Mr. O'Donnell, and
+contained in his best literary style a serious indictment of M.
+Challemel-Lacour, just nominated by the French Government as their
+representative at the Court of St. James.
+
+[Illustration: MR. A. C. MORTON.]
+
+Sir Charles Dilke, then Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs, made
+categorical reply, directly traversing all the points in the indictment.
+When he resumed his seat Mr. O'Donnell rose in his usual deliberate
+manner, captured his eye-glass, and having fixed it to his satisfaction,
+remarked in his drawling voice that it was "perfectly impossible to
+accept the explanation of the Government." Being interrupted with cries
+of "Order! Order!" he quietly played his trump card: "If I am not
+allowed to explain," he said, "I will conclude with a motion."
+
+[Illustration: SIR CHARLES DILKE.]
+
+The House howled again, but it was a cry of despair. Mr. O'Donnell, they
+knew, had the whip hand. In those good old days he, or any other member
+desiring to obstruct ordinary procedure, might, in the middle of
+questions, start a debate on any subject under the sun. This and other
+outrages were doubtless recalled by the House of Commons when revising
+its Rules. It then ordered that no member might, during the progress of
+questions, interpose with a motion on which to found debate. If, in this
+current month of March, Mr. O'Donnell, being a member of the House of
+Commons, had wanted to attack M. Challemel-Lacour, he must needs have
+waited till the last question on the paper was disposed of, and could
+then have moved the adjournment only if his description of the
+question--as one of urgent public importance--was approved by the
+Speaker, and if, thereafter, forty members rose to support the request
+for a hearing.
+
+In June, 1880, all that was left for the crowded House to do was to roar
+with resentment. Mr. O'Donnell was used to this incentive, and had it
+been withheld would probably have shown signs of failing vigour. As it
+was, he produced a pocket-handkerchief, took down his eye-glass and
+carefully polished it, whilst members yelled and tossed about on their
+seats with impotent fury. Under the existing Rules this scene, if it had
+ever opened, would have been promptly blotted out. The closure would
+have been moved, probably a division taken, and the business of the
+evening would have gone forward. There was no closure in those days, and
+Mr. Gladstone, after hurried consultation with Sir Erskine May, hastily
+moved that Mr. O'Donnell be not heard.
+
+A shout of savage exultation rising from every bench, save those on
+which the Irish members sat, hailed a stroke that promised to deliver
+the House from the thraldom of Mr. O'Donnell at the very moment when its
+chains had taken a final twist. In ordinary circumstances this
+resolution would have played the part of the as yet unconsecrated
+closure. A division would have followed, the motion carried by an
+overwhelming majority, and Mr. O'Donnell would have been temporarily
+shut up.
+
+But those were not ordinary times. The Fourth Party was in the prime of
+its vigour. Lord Randolph Churchill's quick eye discovered an opening
+for irritating Mr. Gladstone and damaging the Government by making what
+should have been a business night one long turmoil. Mr. Parnell, whilst
+disclaiming any personal sympathy with Mr. O'Donnell, moved the
+adjournment of the debate, and poor, placid Sir Stafford Northcote,
+egged on by the young bloods below the gangway, raised various points of
+order. Finally, at eight o'clock, the House dividing on Mr. Parnell's
+amendment, Sir Stafford Northcote voted with the Irish members, leading
+a hundred men of the Party of Law and Order into the same lobby.
+
+[Illustration: STIRRING UP SIR STAFFORD.]
+
+Hour after hour the riot continued. At one time blameless Sir William
+Harcourt, then Home Secretary, appearing at the table, a Conservative
+member, amid tumultuous shouts, moved that he be not heard. When members
+grew tired of shouting at each other they divided on fresh motions for
+the adjournment, and it was not till one o'clock on the following
+morning that Mr. O'Donnell, grateful for a pleasant evening, was good
+enough to undertake that before he recurred to the question he would
+give due notice, so that the Speaker might exercise his discretion in
+revising its terms. At five minutes past one in the morning, after a
+wrangle full eight hours long, the Speaker, with a pretty assumption of
+nothing particular having happened, called on the next question on the
+paper, which was Number 24.
+
+All this might happen again on any night of this month save for the
+beneficent action of the New Rules a long-suffering Parliament was
+finally induced to adopt. On the threshold of a new Parliament it is
+useful to recall the scene as an assistance in calculating what may be
+accomplished by the Parliament elected in 1892, as compared with that
+which began its history in 1880. On the face of it, Parliament to-day
+has much less time at its disposal for the accomplishment of work than
+it had a dozen years ago. Then, the duration of a sitting was
+indefinite. The House might, as it did in February, 1881, meet at four
+o'clock on a Monday afternoon and sit continuously till Wednesday
+morning. Now, the Speaker takes the Chair at three o'clock; public
+business commences at half-past three; and at midnight, save in cases
+where the Standing Order has been formally suspended, the Speaker leaves
+the Chair, and the House adjourns, whoever may be on his feet.
+
+[Illustration: "DISGUST."]
+
+The influence of this automatic procedure is beneficially felt
+throughout the whole of debate. One wholesome influence works in the
+direction of using up the early hours of the sitting, an arrangement
+which carries comfort to countless printing offices and editorial
+sanctums. Some time before the New Rules came into operation, Mr.
+Gladstone discovered for himself the convenience and desirability of
+taking part in debate at the earliest possible hour of a sitting. His
+earlier associations drifted round a directly opposite course. In the
+good old days the champions of debate did not interpose till close upon
+midnight, when they had the advantage of audiences sustained and
+exhilarated by dinner. That was before the era of special wires to the
+provincial papers, early morning trams, and vastly increased circulation
+for the London journals. Mr. Gladstone discovered that he was more
+carefully reported and his observations more deliberately discussed if
+he spoke between five and seven o'clock in the evening than if,
+following his earlier habit, he addressed the House between eleven and
+one in the morning. He has, accordingly, for some years been accustomed,
+when he has an important speech to deliver, to interpose in debate
+immediately after questions.
+
+This habit has become general, even compulsory, with members who may,
+within certain limits, choose their own time for speaking. All the cream
+of debate is now skimmed before the dinner-hour. At the close of a
+pitched battle, the two Leaders of Party, as heretofore, wind up the
+debate. But their opportunity for orating is severely circumscribed. The
+audience in the House of Commons does not begin to reassemble after
+dinner till half-past ten. Rising at that hour, the Leader of the
+Opposition, if he fairly divides the available time with the right
+honourable gentleman opposite, must not speak more than three-quarters
+of an hour, and should not exceed forty minutes.
+
+This is a necessity desirable not less in the orator's interest than in
+that of the audience. Except for the exposition of an intricate measure,
+twenty minutes is ample time for any man to say what is useful for his
+fellow-men to hear. All Mr. Disraeli's best speeches were made within
+half an hour, and if he thought it necessary, from a sense of the
+importance of his position, to prolong them, his stock of good things
+was exhausted in twenty minutes, the rest being what Carlyle
+disrespectfully described as thrice-boiled cole-wort. Mr. Gladstone can
+go on indefinitely, and in very recent times has been known to hold his
+audience spell-bound for three hours. But even he has profited by the
+beneficent tyranny that now rules the limit of debate, and, rising with
+the knowledge that he has but forty minutes to speak in, has excelled
+himself. For less exuberant speakers not gifted with his genius, the new
+discipline is even more marked in its benefits.
+
+[Illustration: MR. KEIR HARDIE.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It is too soon to endeavour to estimate the general characteristics of
+the _personnel_ of the new Parliament. It will probably turn out to be
+very much of the same class as the innumerable army of its predecessors.
+When Mr. Keir Hardie came down on the opening day in a wagonette, with
+flags flying and accordions playing, it was cried aloud in some quarters
+that the end was at hand. This apprehension was strengthened when Mr.
+Hardie strolled about the House with a tweed travelling cap on his head,
+the Speaker at the time being in the chair. This, as Dr. Johnson
+explained, when the lady asked him why he had described the horse's
+pastern as its knee, was "ignorance, pure ignorance." Mr. Hardie is not
+a man of the quietest manners, as was testified to by the apparition in
+Palace Yard of the wagonette and its musical party; but in the
+much-talked-of incident of the cap he sinned inadvertently. Before the
+Speaker took the chair he had seen members walking about with their hats
+on. He had observed that even in his presence they remained seated with
+their heads covered. The shade of etiquette which approves this fashion
+whilst it sternly prohibits a member from keeping his hat on when in
+motion, even to the extent of leaning over to speak to a friend on the
+bench below him, was too fine to catch the eye of a new member.
+
+Mr. Keir Hardie has done much worse things than this in his public
+appearances during the recess, and since the Session opened there has
+not been lacking evidence of resolve to keep himself in the front of the
+stage where the gallery may see him. But this is no new thing, to be
+cited in proof of the deterioration of the composition and style of the
+House of Commons. It has been done repeatedly in various fashions within
+recent memory, and always with the same result. No man, not even Mr.
+Biggar--and he may be cited as the most ruthless experimenter--has
+successfully struggled against the subtle disciplinary influence of the
+House of Commons.
+
+From the first the member for Cavan set himself in deliberate fashion to
+outrage Parliamentary traditions and usages. He finished by becoming a
+punctilious practitioner of Parliamentary forms, a stickler for the
+minutest observation of order. Whilst Mr. Gladstone and other members of
+old standing were content to preface their speeches with the
+monosyllable "Sir," nothing less than "Mr. Speaker, sir," would satisfy
+Mr. Biggar. No one who has not heard the inflection of tone with which
+this was uttered, nor seen the oratorical sweep of the hand that
+launched it on its course, can realize how much of combined deference
+and authority the phrase is capable of. Mr. Biggar, having in his early
+Parliamentary days defied the Chair and affronted the sensibilities of
+the House, alike in the matter of dress and deportment, developed into a
+portly gentleman of almost smug appearance, a terror to new members. Woe
+to any who in his ignorance passed between the Chair and the member
+addressing it; who walked in from a division with his hat on; or who
+stood an inch or two within the Bar whilst debate was going forward. Mr.
+Biggar's strident cry of "Order! Order!" reverberated through the House.
+Others joined in the shout, and the abashed offender hastily withdrew
+into obscurity.
+
+[Illustration: THE LATE MR. BIGGAR.]
+
+It is the same with others of less strongly marked character. Vanity or
+garrulity may force a new member into a position of notoriety. He may,
+according to his measure of determination, try a fall again and again
+with the House, and may sometimes, as in the case of Mr. O'Donnell, seem
+to win. But in the end the House of Commons proves victorious. It is a
+sort of whetstone on which blades of various temperature operate. In
+time, they either forego the practice or wear themselves away. In either
+case the whetstone remains.
+
+This is a rule without exception, and is a reassuring reflection in view
+of the talk about the degeneracy of the House of Commons, and the
+decadence of its standard of manner. It would not be difficult to show
+that the House at present in Session will, from the point of view of
+manners, favourably compare with any that have gone before--though, to
+be just, the comparison should be sought with Parliaments elected under
+similar conditions, with the Liberals in office and the Conservatives in
+opposition. That is an arrangement always found to be more conducive to
+lively proceedings than when parties are disposed in the contrary order.
+The Parliament dissolved last year was decorously dull. Mr. Gladstone in
+opposition is not prone to show sport, and no encouragement was held out
+to enterprising groups below the gangway to bait the Government. It was
+very different in the Parliament of 1880-5, of which fact the
+Challemel-Lacour episode is an illustration, only a little more piquant
+in flavour than the average supply.
+
+There are already signs that the new Parliament will not lie under the
+charge of deplorable dulness brought against its predecessor. But these
+varying moods are due to waves of political passion, and do not affect
+the question whether the House of Commons as a body of English gentlemen
+met for the discharge of public business has or has not deteriorated. I
+have an engraving of a picture of the House of Commons in pre-Reform
+days. It was carefully drawn in the Session of 1842. A more respectable
+body of the gentlemen of England it would be difficult to gather
+together. With the possible exception of one or two political
+adventurers like the then member for Shrewsbury, there is probably not a
+man in the House who is not well born or at least rich. Mr. Keir Hardie
+would look strange indeed in these serried ranks of portly gentlemen
+with high coat collars, cravats up to their chin, short-bodied coats
+showing the waistcoat beneath, and the tightly trousered legs. Yet this
+House, and its equally prim successors, had its obstruction, its
+personal wrangles, and its occasional duel. Peel was attacked by
+Disraeli in a fashion and in language that would not be tolerated in the
+House of Commons now, even though the target were Mr. Gladstone.
+
+It is not necessary to go back as far as the days of Peel or
+Parliamentary Reform to sustain the bold assertion that, so far from
+having degenerated, the manners of the House of Commons have improved.
+In the Parliament elected in 1874 there sat on the Conservative side a
+gentleman named Smollet, who early distinguished himself by bringing
+Parliamentary debate down to the level of conversation in "Roderick
+Random." In those days Mr. Gladstone was down after the General
+Election, and Mr. Smollet, to the uproarious delight of gentlemen near
+him, savagely kicked him.
+
+[Illustration: "MOBBING HIM."]
+
+It was in the second year of this same Parliament, less than twenty
+years ago, that Mr. Gladstone, issuing from a division lobby, was
+suddenly pounced upon by some fifty or sixty Conservative members, and
+howled at for the space of several moments. It is, happily, possible for
+Mr. Gladstone to forget, or at least to forgive, personal attacks made
+upon him through his long career. In this very month of the new Session
+he may be nightly seen working in cordial fashion with ancient
+adversaries from Ireland, describing as "my honourable friends"
+gentlemen who, ten years ago and for some time subsequently, heaped on
+his head the coarsest vituperation permitted by practised manipulation
+of Parliamentary forms. But this scene in the division lobby on the 12th
+of April, 1875, is burned into his recollection. I have heard him,
+within the last few months, refer to it in those tones of profound
+indignation and with that flashing fire in his eyes only seen when he is
+deeply moved. He mentioned, what I think was not known, that Lord
+Hartington happened to be walking with him at the time. But there was no
+mistake for whom the angry cries were meant. Mr. Gladstone spoke with
+the profounder indignation because, as he said, he had on this occasion
+gone out to vote on behalf of a man whose character he detested, because
+he saw in the action taken against him an attack upon one of the
+privileges of Parliament.
+
+That scene was an outburst of political animosity; and the movements of
+political animosity, like the dicta of taste, are not to be disputed.
+But on the question of good manners, the only one here under
+consideration, it may be affirmed that the present House of Commons
+would be safe from lapse into such an exhibition. To this better state
+of things the operation of the New Rules has conspicuously contributed,
+and though, as we know, they have not operated to the absolute
+extinction of Parliamentary scenes, they have appreciably limited
+opportunity and incentive.
+
+
+
+
+_Portraits of Celebrities at Different Times of their Lives_.
+
+
+LORD BATTERSEA.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 14.
+
+_From a Daguerreotype._]
+
+BORN 1843.
+
+
+Lord Battersea, who was until recently known to the world as Mr. Cyril
+Flower, M.P., is a son of the late Mr. P. W. Flower, of Streatham, and
+was educated at Harrow and at Trinity College, Cambridge.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 21.
+
+_From a Photo, by Mayland, Cambridge._]
+
+He was called to the Bar at the age of twenty-seven, and became Liberal
+Member for Brecknock in 1880, and for the Luton Division of Bedfordshire
+in 1885 and 1886, in which later year he was one of Mr. Gladstone's
+"Whips." He married the daughter of the late Sir Anthony Rothschild, and
+both he and his wife are much interested in the welfare of the lower
+classes of London. Lord Battersea was unanimously reputed the handsomest
+man in the House of Commons, and is now, in every sense of the word, an
+ornament of the House of Lords.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 40.
+
+_From a Drawing._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photograph by Bassano, 35, Old Bond Street, W._.]
+
+
+W. Q. ORCHARDSON, R.A.
+
+BORN 1835.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 16.
+
+_From an Oil Sketch by himself._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 35.
+
+_From a Photograph by Walery, Marseilles._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 44.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+Mr. William Quiller Orchardson was born in Edinburgh, and at the age of
+fifteen entered the Trustees' Academy of that city, his first pictures
+being exhibited in the Royal Scottish Academy. At the age of
+twenty-eight he came to London, and the same year exhibited at the Royal
+Academy for the first time, his contributions being entitled, "An Old
+English Song" and "Portraits," the latter a life-size composition of
+three young ladies. In 1865 he painted "The Challenge," which won a
+prize of £100 given by Mr. Wallace, and one of the very few Medals
+awarded to English painters at the Paris Universal Exhibition. In 1866
+came "The Story of a Life"--an aged nun relating her experiences to a
+group of novices. Two years later, when he had only been four years in
+London, he was elected an A.R.A. Among his more recent pictures may be
+mentioned "Napoleon on Board the _Bellerophon_" (1880), "The Salon of
+Madame Recamier" (1885), "The Young Duke" (1889), and "St. Helena"
+(1892). Mr. Orchardson was elected an R.A. in 1877, and a D.C.L. of
+Oxford in 1890.
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+
+LADY HALLÉ.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 10.
+
+_From a Drawing._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 23.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+Lady Hallé, whose maiden name was Wilhelmine Néruda, was born at Brünn,
+where her father was organist of the cathedral. She was a pupil of
+Jansa, and made her first appearance at Vienna at the age of six, and in
+London at the age of nine. After this she returned to the Continent, and
+in 1864 she married Ludwig Norman, a Swedish musician. Since 1869 she
+has been in England every winter, playing especially at the concerts of
+Sir Charles Hallé, whom she married in 1888.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 35.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo by Burraud_.]
+
+
+SIR CHARLES HALLÉ.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 20.
+
+_From a Painting._]
+
+Sir Charles Hallé is a native of Germany, but at an early age he
+established himself in Paris, where he acquired a great reputation by
+his refined and classical rendering of the compositions of the great
+musicians; but the Revolution of 1843 drove him to England, where he has
+ever since resided. He soon established himself at Manchester, and as
+the founder of the annual series of orchestral and choral concerts there
+and in London, which have become, perhaps, the most important series in
+Europe, he has rendered the most valuable service to musical art.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 31.
+
+_From a Painting._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 45.
+
+_From a Photo, by H. Hering, Regent Street, W._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo. by Mayall & Co., 164, New Bond Street, W._]
+
+
+DR. HERMANN ADLER,
+
+CHIEF RABBI.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 24.
+
+_From a Photograph by McLean & Haes, Haymarket._]
+
+Born 1839.
+
+Dr. Adler, son of Dr. Nathan Marcus Adler, was born in Hanover, and came
+to London with his father at the age of six. He studied at University
+College, took his B. A. degree at the University of London at twenty,
+and that of Ph. D., at Leipzig, at twenty-two. In the following year he
+was ordained Rabbi by the famous Rapoport, Chief Rabbi of Prague, and
+became in succession Principal of the Jews' College in London and Chief
+Minister of the Bayswater Synagogue. In 1890 his father, the Chief
+Rabbi, died, and Dr. Adler was elected in his place. Dr. Adler is well
+known not only by his powerful and scholarly writings, but by his work
+among the poorer Jews of London.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 37.
+
+_From a Photograph by J. R. Sawyer, Norwich._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 44.
+
+_From a Photograph by Fradella, 216, Regent Street, W._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photograph by The Photographic Co._]
+
+
+SIR ARCHIBALD ALISON, BART., K.C.B.
+
+Born 1826.
+
+General Alison, son of Sir Archibald Alison, the first Baronet, who was
+the well-known author of "The History of Europe," was born at Edinburgh,
+and entered the Army at the age of twenty. He served in the Crimea, at
+the siege and fall of Sebastopol, at which date our second portrait
+represents him. During the Indian Mutiny he lost an arm at the relief of
+Lucknow. In 1882 he commanded the 1st Brigade, 2nd Division, during the
+expedition to Egypt, and at the decisive battle of Tel-el-Kebir he led
+the Highland Brigade which fought so gallantly on that memorable
+occasion, and after Arabi's surrender he was left in Egypt with the
+command of the British army of 12,000 men to restore order and protect
+the Khedive. Sir Archibald was included in the thanks of Parliament for
+his energy and gallantry, and was promoted to the rank of
+Lieutenant-General; he received his appointment as General in 1889. In
+1869 Sir Archibald Alison published an able treatise, "On Army
+Organization."
+
+[Illustration: AGE 3.
+
+_From a Miniature._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 31.
+
+_From a Daguerreotype by Werge, Glasgow._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 47.
+
+_From a Photograph by Jacklett, Aldershot._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo, by Barraud._]
+
+
+MADAME JANE HADING.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 3.
+
+_From a Photo. by Chalot et Cie., Paris._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 5.
+
+_From a Photo. by Chalot et Cie., Paris._]
+
+Madame Jane Hading, the well-known French actress, was born at
+Marseilles, in 1863, where her father was popular as a leading actor,
+with whom she appeared when only three years of age as little _Blanche
+de Caylus_ in "Le Bossu." At the age of thirteen she began work in
+earnest, having won "le prix de solfège" at the Marseille Conservatoire,
+and her talent having come to the ears of Mr. Plunkett, the director of
+the Palais Royal, he engaged her for the Palais Royal in Paris, where
+she created the part of _La Chaste Suzanne_, by Paul Ferrier. Giving up
+comic opera for comedy, Jane Hading went to the Gymnase, where she
+created the part of _Claire de Beaulieu_ in "Le Maître de Forges."
+London had the opportunity of seeing her in that and "Prince Zilah," by
+Jules Claretie, later on, and fully indorsed the Parisian verdict. These
+conspicuous successes were followed by others almost as notable, and her
+subsequent tour in America won her golden opinions, and was so
+successful that it was extended some months. Her latest Parisian success
+was "Le Prince d'Aurec," which added greatly to her laurels, putting her
+in the very front rank of great artists.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 15.
+
+_From a Photo. by Fabre, Marseilles._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo, by Reutlinger, Paris._]
+
+
+
+
+_The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_.
+
+XVI.--THE ADVENTURE OF THE STOCKBROKER'S CLERK.
+
+BY A. CONAN DOYLE.
+
+
+Shortly after my marriage I had bought a connection in the Paddington
+district. Old Mr. Farquhar, from whom I purchased it, had at one time an
+excellent general practice, but his age, and an affliction of the nature
+of St. Vitus' dance, from which he suffered, had very much thinned it.
+The public, not unnaturally, goes upon the principle that he who would
+heal others must himself be whole, and looks askance at the curative
+powers of the man whose own case is beyond the reach of his drugs. Thus,
+as my predecessor weakened, his practice declined, until when I
+purchased it from him it had sunk from twelve hundred to little more
+than three hundred a year. I had confidence, however, in my own youth
+and energy, and was convinced that in a very few years the concern would
+be as flourishing as ever.
+
+For three months after taking over the practice I was kept very closely
+at work, and saw little of my friend Sherlock Holmes, for I was too busy
+to visit Baker Street, and he seldom went anywhere himself save upon
+professional business. I was surprised, therefore, when one morning in
+June, as I sat reading the _British Medical Journal_ after breakfast, I
+heard a ring at the bell followed by the high, somewhat strident, tones
+of my old companion's voice.
+
+"Ah, my dear Watson," said he, striding into the room. "I am very
+delighted to see you. I trust that Mrs. Watson has entirely recovered
+from all the little excitements connected with our adventure of the
+'Sign of Four.'"
+
+"Thank you, we are both very well," said I, shaking him warmly by the
+hand.
+
+"And I hope also," he continued, sitting down in the rocking-chair,
+"that the cares of medical practice have not entirely obliterated the
+interest which you used to take in our little deductive problems."
+
+"On the contrary," I answered; "it was only last night that I was
+looking over my old notes and classifying some of our past results."
+
+"I trust that you don't consider your collection closed?"
+
+"Not at all. I should wish nothing better than to have some more of such
+experiences."
+
+"To-day, for example?"
+
+"Yes; to-day, if you like."
+
+"And as far off as Birmingham?"
+
+"Certainly, if you wish it."
+
+"And the practice?"
+
+"I do my neighbour's when he goes. He is always ready to work off the
+debt."
+
+[Illustration: "'NOTHING COULD BE BETTER,' SAID HOLMES."]
+
+"Ha! Nothing could be better!" said Holmes, leaning back in his chair
+and looking keenly at me from under his half-closed lids. "I perceive
+that you have been unwell lately. Summer colds are always a little
+trying."
+
+"I was confined to the house by a severe chill for three days last week.
+I thought, however, that I had cast off every trace of it."
+
+"So you have. You look remarkably robust."
+
+"How, then, did you know of it?"
+
+"My dear fellow, you know my methods."
+
+"You deduced it, then?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"And from what?"
+
+"From your slippers."
+
+I glanced down at the new patent leathers which I was wearing. "How on
+earth----?" I began, but Holmes answered my question before it was
+asked.
+
+"Your slippers are new," he said. "You could not have had them more than
+a few weeks. The soles which you are at this moment presenting to me are
+slightly scorched. For a moment I thought they might have got wet and
+been burned in the drying. But near the instep there is a small circular
+wafer of paper with the shopman's hieroglyphics upon it. Damp would of
+course have removed this. You had then been sitting with your feet
+outstretched to the fire, which a man would hardly do even in so wet a
+June as this if he were in his full health."
+
+Like all Holmes's reasoning the thing seemed simplicity itself when it
+was once explained. He read the thought upon my features, and his smile
+had a tinge of bitterness.
+
+"I am afraid that I rather give myself away when I explain," said he.
+"Results without causes are much more impressive. You are ready to come
+to Birmingham, then?"
+
+"Certainly. What is the case?"
+
+"You shall hear it all in the train. My client is outside in a
+four-wheeler. Can you come at once?"
+
+"In an instant." I scribbled a note to my neighbour, rushed upstairs to
+explain the matter to my wife, and joined Holmes upon the doorstep.
+
+"Your neighbour is a doctor?" said he, nodding at the brass plate.
+
+"Yes. He bought a practice as I did."
+
+"An old-established one?"
+
+"Just the same as mine. Both have been ever since the houses were
+built."
+
+"Ah, then you got hold of the best of the two."
+
+"I think I did. But how do you know?"
+
+"By the steps, my boy. Yours are worn three inches deeper than his. But
+this gentleman in the cab is my client, Mr. Hall Pycroft. Allow me to
+introduce you to him. Whip your horse up, cabby, for we have only just
+time to catch our train."
+
+The man whom I found myself facing was a well-built, fresh-complexioned
+young fellow with a frank, honest face and a slight, crisp, yellow
+moustache. He wore a very shiny top-hat and a neat suit of sober black,
+which made him look what he was--a smart young City man, of the class
+who have been labelled Cockneys, but who give us our crack Volunteer
+regiments, and who turn out more fine athletes and sportsmen than any
+body of men in these islands. His round, ruddy face was naturally full
+of cheeriness, but the corners of his mouth seemed to me to be pulled
+down in a half-comical distress. It was not, however, until we were all
+in a first-class carriage and well started upon our journey to
+Birmingham, that I was able to learn what the trouble was which had
+driven him to Sherlock Holmes.
+
+"We have a clear run here of seventy minutes," Holmes remarked. "I want
+you, Mr. Hall Pycroft, to tell my friend your very interesting
+experience exactly as you have told it to me, or with more detail if
+possible. It will be of use to me to hear the succession of events
+again. It is a case, Watson, which may prove to have something in it, or
+may prove to have nothing, but which at least presents those unusual and
+_outré_ features which are as dear to you as they are to me. Now, Mr.
+Pycroft, I shall not interrupt you again."
+
+Our young companion looked at me with a twinkle in his eye.
+
+"The worst of the story is," said he, "that I show myself up as such a
+confounded fool. Of course, it may work out all right, and I don't see
+that I could have done otherwise; but if I have lost my crib and get
+nothing in exchange, I shall feel what a soft Johnny I have been. I'm
+not very good at telling a story, Dr. Watson, but it is like this with
+me.
+
+"I used to have a billet at Coxon and Woodhouse, of Drapers' Gardens,
+but they were let in early in the spring through the Venezuelan loan, as
+no doubt you remember, and came a nasty cropper. I had been with them
+five years, and old Coxon gave me a ripping good testimonial when the
+smash came; but, of course, we clerks were all turned adrift, the
+twenty-seven of us. I tried here and tried there, but there were lots of
+other chaps on the same lay as myself, and it was a perfect frost for a
+long time. I had been taking three pounds a week at Coxon's, and I had
+saved about seventy of them, but I soon worked my way through that and
+out at the other end. I was fairly at the end of my tether at last, and
+could hardly find the stamps to answer the advertisements or the
+envelopes to stick them to. I had worn out my boots padding up office
+stairs, and I seemed just as far from getting a billet as ever.
+
+"At last I saw a vacancy at Mawson and Williams', the great stockbroking
+firm in Lombard Street. I daresay E. C. is not much in your line, but I
+can tell you that this is about the richest house in London. The
+advertisement was to be answered by letter only. I sent in my
+testimonial and application, but without the least hope of getting it.
+Back came an answer by return saying that if I would appear next Monday
+I might take over my new duties at once, provided that my appearance was
+satisfactory. No one knows how these things are worked. Some people say
+the manager just plunges his hand into the heap and takes the first that
+comes. Anyhow, it was my innings that time, and I don't ever wish to
+feel better pleased. The screw was a pound a week rise, and the duties
+just about the same as at Coxon's.
+
+"And now I come to the queer part of the business. I was in diggings out
+Hampstead way--17, Potter's Terrace, was the address. Well, I was
+sitting doing a smoke that very evening after I had been promised the
+appointment, when up came my landlady with a card which had 'Arthur
+Pinner, financial agent,' printed upon it. I had never heard the name
+before, and could not imagine what he wanted with me, but of course I
+asked her to show him up. In he walked--a middle-sized, dark-haired,
+dark-eyed, black-bearded man, with a touch of the sheeny about his nose.
+He had a brisk kind of way with him and spoke sharply, like a man that
+knew the value of time.
+
+[Illustration: "'MR. HALL PYCROFT, I BELIEVE?' SAID HE."]
+
+"'Mr. Hall Pycroft, I believe?' said he.
+
+"'Yes, sir,' I answered, and pushed a chair towards him.
+
+"'Lately engaged at Coxon and Woodhouse's?'
+
+"'Yes, sir.'
+
+"And now on the staff of Mawson's?'
+
+"'Quite so.'
+
+"'Well,' said he. 'The fact is that I have heard some really
+extraordinary stories about your financial ability. You remember Parker
+who used to be Coxon's manager? He can never say enough about it.'
+
+"Of course I was pleased to hear this. I had always been pretty smart in
+the office, but I had never dreamed that I was talked about in the City
+in this fashion.
+
+"'You have a good memory?' said he.
+
+"'Pretty fair,' I answered, modestly.
+
+"'Have you kept in touch with the market while you have been out of
+work?' he asked.
+
+"'Yes; I read the Stock Exchange List every morning.'
+
+"'Now, that shows real application!' he cried. 'That is the way to
+prosper! You won't mind my testing you, will you? Let me see! How are
+Ayrshires?'
+
+"'One hundred and six and a quarter to one hundred and five and
+seven-eighths,' I answered.
+
+"'And New Zealand Consolidated?'
+
+"'A hundred and four.'
+
+"'And British Broken Hills?'
+
+"'Seven to seven and six.'
+
+"'Wonderful!' he cried, with his hands up. 'This quite fits in with all
+that I had heard. My boy, my boy, you are very much too good to be a
+clerk at Mawson's!'
+
+"This outburst rather astonished me, as you can think. 'Well,' said I,
+'other people don't think quite so much of me as you seem to do, Mr.
+Pinner. I had a hard enough fight to get this berth, and I am very glad
+to have it.'
+
+"'Pooh, man, you should soar above it. You are not in your true sphere.
+Now I'll tell you how it stands with me. What I have to offer is little
+enough when measured by your ability, but when compared with Mawson's it
+is light to dark. Let me see! When do you go to Mawson's?'
+
+"'On Monday.'
+
+"'Ha! ha! I think I would risk a little sporting flutter that you don't
+go there at all.'
+
+"'Not go to Mawson's?'
+
+"'No, sir. By that day you will be the business manager of the
+Franco-Midland Hardware Company, Limited, with one hundred and
+thirty-four branches in the towns and villages of France, not counting
+one in Brussels and one in San Remo.'
+
+"This took my breath away. 'I never heard of it,' said I.
+
+"'Very likely not. It has been kept very quiet, for the capital was all
+privately subscribed, and it is too good a thing to let the public into.
+My brother, Harry Pinner, is promoter, and joins the board after
+allotment as managing director. He knew that I was in the swim down
+here, and he asked me to pick up a good man cheap--a young, pushing man
+with plenty of snap about him. Parker spoke of you, and that brought me
+here to-night. We can only offer you a beggarly five hundred to start
+with----'
+
+"'Five hundred a year!' I shouted.
+
+"'Only that at the beginning, but you are to have an over-riding
+commission of 1 per cent, on all business done by your agents, and you
+may take my word for it that this will come to more than your salary.'
+
+"'But I know nothing about hardware.'
+
+"'Tut, my boy, you know about figures.'
+
+"My head buzzed, and I could hardly sit still in the chair. But suddenly
+a little chill of doubt came over me.
+
+"'I must be frank with you,' said I. 'Mawson only gives me two hundred,
+but Mawson is safe. Now, really, I know so little about your company
+that----'
+
+"'Ah, smart, smart!' he cried, in a kind of ecstasy of delight. 'You are
+the very man for us! You are not to be talked over, and quite right too.
+Now, here's a note for a hundred pounds; and if you think that we can do
+business you may just slip it into your pocket as an advance upon your
+salary.'
+
+"'That is very handsome,' said I. 'When should I take over my new
+duties?'
+
+"'Be in Birmingham to-morrow at one,' said he. 'I have a note in my
+pocket here which you will take to my brother. You will find him at
+126B, Corporation Street, where the temporary offices of the company are
+situated. Of course he must confirm your engagement, but between
+ourselves it will be all right.'
+
+"'Really, I hardly know how to express my gratitude, Mr. Pinner,' said
+I.
+
+"'Not at all, my boy. You have only got your deserts. There are one or
+two small things--mere formalities--which I must arrange with you. You
+have a bit of paper beside you there. Kindly write upon it, "I am
+perfectly willing to act as business manager to the Franco-Midland
+Hardware Company, Limited, at a minimum salary of £500."'
+
+"I did as he asked, and he put the paper in his pocket.
+
+"'There is one other detail,' said he. 'What do you intend to do about
+Mawson's?'
+
+"I had forgotten all about Mawson's in my joy.
+
+"'I'll write and resign,' said I.
+
+"'Precisely what I don't want you to do. I had a row over you with
+Mawson's manager. I had gone up to ask him about you, and he was very
+offensive--accused me of coaxing you away from the service of the firm,
+and that sort of thing. At last I fairly lost my temper. "If you want
+good men you should pay them a good price," said I. "He would rather
+have our small price than your big one," said he. "I'll lay you a
+fiver," said I, "that when he has my offer you will never so much as
+hear from him again." "Done!" said he. "We picked him out of the gutter,
+and he won't leave us so easily." Those were his very words.'
+
+"'The impudent scoundrel!' I cried. 'I've never so much as seen him in
+my life. Why should I consider him in any way? I shall certainly not
+write if you would rather that I didn't.'
+
+"'Good! That's a promise!' said he, rising from his chair. 'Well, I am
+delighted to have got so good a man for my brother. Here is your
+advance of a hundred pounds, and here is the letter. Make a note of the
+address, 126B, Corporation Street, and remember that one o'clock
+to-morrow is your appointment. Good-night, and may you have all the
+fortune that you deserve.'
+
+"That's just about all that passed between us as near as I can remember
+it. You can imagine, Dr. Watson, how pleased I was at such an
+extraordinary bit of good fortune. I sat up half the night hugging
+myself over it, and next day I was off to Birmingham in a train that
+would take me in plenty of time for my appointment. I took my things to
+an hotel in New Street, and then I made my way to the address which had
+been given me.
+
+"It was a quarter of an hour before my time, but I thought that would
+make no difference. 126B was a passage between two large shops which led
+to a winding stone stair, from which there were many flats, let as
+offices to companies or professional men. The names of the occupants
+were painted up at the bottom on the wall, but there was no such name as
+the Franco-Midland Hardware Company, Limited. I stood for a few minutes
+with my heart in my boots, wondering whether the whole thing was an
+elaborate hoax or not, when up came a man and addressed me. He was very
+like the chap that I had seen the night before, the same figure and
+voice, but he was clean shaven and his hair was lighter.
+
+[Illustration: "UP CAME A MAN AND ADDRESSED ME."]
+
+"'Are you Mr. Hall Pycroft?' he asked.
+
+"'Yes,' said I.
+
+"'Ah! I was expecting you, but you are a trifle before your time. I had
+a note from my brother this morning, in which he sang your praises very
+loudly.'
+
+"'I was just looking for the offices when you came.'
+
+"'We have not got our name up yet, for we only secured these temporary
+premises last week. Come up with me and we will talk the matter over.'
+
+"I followed him to the top of a very lofty stair, and there right under
+the slates were a couple of empty and dusty little rooms, uncarpeted and
+uncurtained, into which he led me. I had thought of a great office with
+shining tables and rows of clerks such as I was used to, and I daresay I
+stared rather straight at the two deal chairs and one little table,
+which, with a ledger and a waste-paper basket, made up the whole
+furniture.
+
+"'Don't be disheartened, Mr. Pycroft,' said my new acquaintance, seeing
+the length of my face. 'Rome was not built in a day, and we have lots of
+money at our backs, though we don't cut much dash yet in offices. Pray
+sit down and let me have your letter.'
+
+"I gave it to him, and he read it over very carefully.
+
+"'You seem to have made a vast impression upon my brother, Arthur,' said
+he, 'and I know that he is a pretty shrewd judge. He swears by London,
+you know, and I by Birmingham, but this time I shall follow his advice.
+Pray consider yourself definitely engaged.'
+
+"'What are my duties?' I asked.
+
+"'You will eventually manage the great depôt in Paris, which will pour a
+flood of English crockery into the shops of one hundred and thirty-four
+agents in France. The purchase will be completed in a week, and
+meanwhile you will remain in Birmingham and make yourself useful.'
+
+"'How?'
+
+"For answer he took a big red book out of a drawer. 'This is a directory
+of Paris,' said he, 'with the trades after the names of the people. I
+want you to take it home with you, and to mark off all the hardware
+sellers with their addresses. It would be of the greatest use to me to
+have them.'
+
+"'Surely, there are classified lists?' I suggested.
+
+"'Not reliable ones. Their system is different to ours. Stick at it and
+let me have the lists by Monday, at twelve. Good-day, Mr. Pycroft; if
+you continue to show zeal and intelligence, you will find the company a
+good master.'
+
+"I went back to the hotel with the big book under my arm, and with very
+conflicting feelings in my breast. On the one hand I was definitely
+engaged, and had a hundred pounds in my pocket. On the other, the look
+of the offices, the absence of name on the wall, and other of the points
+which would strike a business man had left a bad impression as to the
+position of my employers. However, come what might, I had my money, so I
+settled down to my task. All Sunday I was kept hard at work, and yet by
+Monday I had only got as far as H. I went round to my employer, found
+him in the same dismantled kind of room, and was told to keep at it
+until Wednesday, and then come again. On Wednesday it was still
+unfinished, so I hammered away until Friday--that is, yesterday. Then I
+brought it round to Mr. Harry Pinner.
+
+"'Thank you very much,' said he. 'I fear that I underrated the
+difficulty of the task. This list will be of very material assistance to
+me.'
+
+"'It took some time,' said I.
+
+"'And now,' said he, 'I want you to make a list of the furniture shops,
+for they all sell crockery.'
+
+"'Very good.'
+
+"'And you can come up to-morrow evening at seven, and let me know how
+you are getting on. Don't overwork yourself. A couple of hours at Day's
+Music-Hall in the evening would do you no harm after your labours.' He
+laughed as he spoke, and I saw with a thrill that his second tooth upon
+the left-hand side had been very badly stuffed with gold."
+
+Sherlock Holmes rubbed his hands with delight, and I stared in
+astonishment at our client.
+
+"You may well look surprised, Dr. Watson, but it is this way," said he.
+"When I was speaking to the other chap in London at the time that he
+laughed at my not going to Mawson's, I happened to notice that his tooth
+was stuffed in this very identical fashion. The glint of the gold in
+each case caught my eye, you see. When I put that with the voice and
+figure being the same, and only those things altered which might be
+changed by a razor or a wig, I could not doubt that it was the same man.
+Of course, you expect two brothers to be alike, but not that they should
+have the same tooth stuffed in the same way. He bowed me out and I found
+myself in the street, hardly knowing whether I was on my head or my
+heels. Back I went to my hotel, put my head in a basin of cold water,
+and tried to think it out. Why had he sent me from London to Birmingham;
+why had he got there before me; and why had he written a letter from
+himself to himself? It was altogether too much for me, and I could make
+no sense of it. And then suddenly it struck me that what was dark to me
+might be very light to Mr. Sherlock Holmes. I had just time to get up to
+town by the night train, to see him this morning, and to bring you both
+back with me to Birmingham."
+
+There was a pause after the stockbroker's clerk had concluded his
+surprising experience. Then Sherlock Holmes cocked his eye at me,
+leaning back on the cushions with a pleased and yet critical face, like
+a connoisseur who had just taken his first sip of a comet vintage.
+
+"Rather fine, Watson, is it not?" said he. "There are points in it which
+please me. I think you will agree with me that an interview with Mr.
+Arthur Harry Pinner in the temporary offices of the Franco-Midland
+Hardware Company, Limited, would be a rather interesting experience for
+both of us."
+
+"But how can we do it?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, easily enough," said Hall Pycroft, cheerily. "You are two friends
+of mine who are in want of a billet, and what could be more natural than
+that I should bring you both round to the managing director?"
+
+"Quite so! Of course!" said Holmes. "I should like to have a look at the
+gentleman and see if I can make anything of his little game. What
+qualities have you, my friend, which would make your services so
+valuable? or is it possible that----" he began biting his nails and
+staring blankly out of the window, and we hardly drew another word from
+him until we were in New Street.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At seven o'clock that evening we were walking, the three of us, down
+Corporation Street to the company's offices.
+
+"It is of no use our being at all before our time," said our client. "He
+only comes there to see me apparently, for the place is deserted up to
+the very hour he names."
+
+"That is suggestive," remarked Holmes.
+
+"By Jove, I told you so!" cried the clerk. "That's he walking ahead of
+us there."
+
+He pointed to a smallish, blonde, well-dressed man, who was bustling
+along the other side of the road. As we watched him he looked across at
+a boy who was bawling out the latest edition of the evening paper, and,
+running over among the cabs and 'buses, he bought one from him. Then
+clutching it in his hand he vanished through a doorway.
+
+"There he goes!" cried Hall Pycroft. "Those are the company's offices
+into which he has gone. Come with me and I'll fix it up as easily as
+possible."
+
+Following his lead we ascended five stories, until we found ourselves
+outside a half-opened door, at which our client tapped. A voice within
+bade us "Come in," and we entered a bare, unfurnished room, such as Hall
+Pycroft had described. At the single table sat the man whom we had seen
+in the street, with his evening paper spread out in front of him, and as
+he looked up at us it seemed to me that I had never looked upon a face
+which bore such marks of grief, and of something beyond grief--of a
+horror such as comes to few men in a lifetime. His brow glistened with
+perspiration, his cheeks were of the dull dead white of a fish's belly,
+and his eyes were wild and staring. He looked at his clerk as though he
+failed to recognise him, and I could see, by the astonishment depicted
+upon our conductor's face, that this was by no means the usual
+appearance of his employer.
+
+[Illustration: "HE LOOKED UP AT US."]
+
+"You look ill, Mr. Pinner," he exclaimed.
+
+"Yes, I am not very well," answered the other, making obvious efforts to
+pull himself together, and licking his dry lips before he spoke. "Who
+are these gentlemen whom you have brought with you?"
+
+"One is Mr. Harris, of Bermondsey, and the other is Mr. Price, of this
+town," said our clerk, glibly. "They are friends of mine, and gentlemen
+of experience, but they have been out of a place for some little time,
+and they hoped that perhaps you might find an opening for them in the
+company's employment."
+
+"Very possibly! Very possibly!" cried Mr. Pinner, with a ghastly smile.
+"Yes, I have no doubt that we shall be able to do something for you.
+What is your particular line, Mr. Harris?"
+
+"I am an accountant," said Holmes.
+
+"Ah, yes, we shall want something of the sort. And you, Mr. Price?"
+
+"A clerk," said I.
+
+"I have every hope that the company may accommodate you. I will let you
+know about it as soon as we come to any conclusion. And now I beg that
+you will go. For God's sake, leave me to myself!"
+
+These last words were shot out of him, as though the constraint which he
+was evidently setting upon himself had suddenly and utterly burst
+asunder. Holmes and I glanced at each other, and Hall Pycroft took a
+step towards the table.
+
+"You forget, Mr. Pinner, that I am here by appointment to receive some
+directions from you," said he.
+
+"Certainly, Mr. Pycroft, certainly," the other answered in a calmer
+tone. "You may wait here a moment, and there is no reason why your
+friends should not wait with you. I will be entirely at your service in
+three minutes, if I might trespass upon your patience so far." He rose
+with a very courteous air, and bowing to us he passed out through a door
+at the further end of the room, which he closed behind him.
+
+"What now?" whispered Holmes. "Is he giving us the slip?"
+
+"Impossible," answered Pycroft.
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"That door leads into an inner room."
+
+"There is no exit?"
+
+"None."
+
+"Is it furnished?"
+
+"It was empty yesterday."
+
+"Then what on earth can he be doing? There is something which I don't
+understand in this matter. If ever a man was three parts mad with
+terror, that man's name is Pinner. What can have put the shivers on
+him?"
+
+"He suspects that we are detectives," I suggested.
+
+"That's it," said Pycroft.
+
+Holmes shook his head. "He did not turn pale. He _was_ pale when we
+entered the room," said he. "It is just possible that----"
+
+His words were interrupted by a sharp rat-tat from the direction of the
+inner door.
+
+"What the deuce is he knocking at his own door for?" cried the clerk.
+
+Again and much louder came the rat-tat-tat. We all gazed expectantly at
+the closed door. Glancing at Holmes I saw his face turn rigid, and he
+leaned forward in intense excitement. Then suddenly came a low gurgling,
+gargling sound and a brisk drumming upon woodwork. Holmes sprang
+frantically across the room and pushed at the door. It was fastened on
+the inner side. Following his example, we threw ourselves upon it with
+all our weight. One hinge snapped, then the other, and down came the
+door with a crash. Rushing over it we found ourselves in the inner room.
+
+[Illustration: "WE FOUND OURSELVES IN THE INNER ROOM."]
+
+It was empty.
+
+But it was only for a moment that we were at fault. At one corner, the
+corner nearest the room which we had left, there was a second door.
+Holmes sprang to it and pulled it open. A coat and waistcoat were lying
+on the floor, and from a hook behind the door, with his own braces round
+his neck, was hanging the managing director of the Franco-Midland
+Hardware Company. His knees were drawn up, his head hung at a dreadful
+angle to his body, and the clatter of his heels against the door made
+the noise which had broken in upon our conversation. In an instant I had
+caught him round the waist and held him up, while Holmes and Pycroft
+untied the elastic bands which had disappeared between the livid creases
+of skin. Then we carried him into the other room, where he lay with a
+clay-coloured face, puffing his purple lips in and out with every
+breath--a dreadful wreck of all that he had been but five minutes
+before.
+
+"What do you think of him, Watson?" asked Holmes.
+
+I stooped over him and examined him.
+
+His pulse was feeble and intermittent, but his breathing grew longer,
+and there was a little shivering of his eyelids which showed a thin
+white slit of ball beneath.
+
+"It has been touch and go with him," said I, "but he'll live now. Just
+open that window and hand me the water carafe." I undid his collar,
+poured the cold water over his face, and raised and sank his arms until
+he drew a long natural breath.
+
+"It's only a question of time now," said I, as I turned away from him.
+
+Holmes stood by the table with his hands deep in his trousers pockets
+and his chin upon his breast.
+
+"I suppose we ought to call the police in now," said he; "and yet I
+confess that I like to give them a complete case when they come."
+
+"It's a blessed mystery to me," cried Pycroft, scratching his head.
+"Whatever they wanted to bring me all the way up here for, and then----"
+
+"Pooh! All that is clear enough," said Holmes, impatiently. "It is this
+last sudden move."
+
+"You understand the rest, then?"
+
+"I think that it is fairly obvious. What do you say, Watson?"
+
+I shrugged my shoulders.
+
+"I must confess that I am out of my depths," said I.
+
+"Oh, surely, if you consider the events at first they can only point to
+one conclusion."
+
+"What do you make of them?"
+
+"Well, the whole thing hinges upon two points. The first is the making
+of Pycroft write a declaration by which he entered the service of this
+preposterous company. Do you not see how very suggestive that is?"
+
+"I am afraid I miss the point."
+
+"Well, why did they want him to do it? Not as a business matter, for
+these arrangements are usually verbal, and there was no earthly business
+reason why this should be an exception. Don't you see, my young friend,
+that they were very anxious to obtain a specimen of your handwriting,
+and had no other way of doing it?"
+
+"And why?"
+
+"Quite so. Why? When we answer that, we have made some progress with our
+little problem. Why? There can be only one adequate reason. Someone
+wanted to learn to imitate your writing, and had to procure a specimen
+of it first. And now if we pass on to the second point, we find that
+each throws light upon the other. That point is the request made by
+Pinner that you should not resign your place, but should leave the
+manager of this important business in the full expectation that a Mr.
+Hall Pycroft, whom he had never seen, was about to enter the office upon
+the Monday morning."
+
+"My God!" cried our client, "what a blind beetle I have been!"
+
+"Now you see the point about the handwriting. Suppose that someone
+turned up in your place who wrote a completely different hand from that
+in which you had applied for the vacancy, of course the game would have
+been up. But in the interval the rogue learnt to imitate you, and his
+position was therefore secure, as I presume that nobody in the office
+had ever set eyes upon you?"
+
+"Not a soul," groaned Hall Pycroft.
+
+"Very good. Of course, it was of the utmost importance to prevent you
+from thinking better of it, and also to keep you from coming into
+contact with anyone who might tell you that your double was at work in
+Mawson's office. Therefore they gave you a handsome advance on your
+salary, and ran you off to the Midlands, where they gave you enough work
+to do to prevent your going to London, where you might have burst their
+little game up. That is all plain enough."
+
+"But why should this man pretend to be his own brother?"
+
+"Well, that is pretty clear also. There are evidently only two of them
+in it. The other is personating you at the office. This one acted as
+your engager, and then found that he could not find you an employer
+without admitting a third person into his plot. That he was most
+unwilling to do. He changed his appearance as far as he could, and
+trusted that the likeness, which you could not fail to observe, would be
+put down to a family resemblance. But for the happy chance of the gold
+stuffing your suspicions would probably have never been aroused."
+
+Hall Pycroft shook his clenched hands in the air. "Good Lord!" he cried.
+"While I have been fooled in this way, what has this other Hall Pycroft
+been doing at Mawson's? What should we do, Mr. Holmes? Tell me what to
+do!"
+
+"We must wire to Mawson's."
+
+"They shut at twelve on Saturdays."
+
+"Never mind; there may be some doorkeeper or attendant----"
+
+"Ah, yes; they keep a permanent guard there on account of the value of
+the securities that they hold. I remember hearing it talked of in the
+City."
+
+[Illustration: "PYCROFT SHOOK HIS CLENCHED HANDS IN THE AIR."]
+
+"Very good, we shall wire to him, and see if all is well, and if a clerk
+of your name is working there. That is clear enough, but what is not so
+clear is why at sight of us one of the rogues should instantly walk out
+of the room and hang himself."
+
+"The paper!" croaked a voice behind us. The man was sitting up, blanched
+and ghastly, with returning reason in his eyes, and hands which rubbed
+nervously at the broad red band which still encircled his throat.
+
+"The paper! Of course!" yelled Holmes, in a paroxysm of excitement.
+"Idiot that I was! I thought so much of our visit that the paper never
+entered my head for an instant. To be sure the secret must lie there."
+He flattened it out upon the table, and a cry of triumph burst from his
+lips.
+
+"Look at this, Watson!" he cried. "It is a London paper, an early
+edition of the _Evening Standard_. Here is what we want. Look at the
+headlines--'Crime in the City. Murder at Mawson and Williams'. Gigantic
+Attempted Robbery; Capture of the Criminal.' Here, Watson, we are all
+equally anxious to hear it, so kindly read it aloud to us."
+
+It appeared from its position in the paper to have been the one event of
+importance in town, and the account of it ran in this way:--
+
+"A desperate attempt at robbery, culminating in the death of one man and
+the capture of the criminal, occurred this afternoon in the City. For
+some time back Mawson and Williams, the famous financial house, have
+been the guardians of securities which amount in the aggregate to a sum
+of considerably over a million sterling. So conscious was the manager of
+the responsibility which devolved upon him in consequence of the great
+interests at stake, that safes of the very latest construction have been
+employed, and an armed watchman has been left day and night in the
+building. It appears that last week a new clerk, named Hall Pycroft, was
+engaged by the firm. This person appears to have been none other than
+Beddington, the famous forger and cracksman, who, with his brother, has
+only recently emerged from a five years' spell of penal servitude. By
+some means, which are not yet clear, he succeeded in winning, under a
+false name, this official position in the office, which he utilized in
+order to obtain mouldings of various locks, and a thorough knowledge of
+the position of the strong room and the safes.
+
+"It is customary at Mawson's for the clerks to leave at midday on
+Saturday. Sergeant Tuson, of the City Police, was somewhat surprised
+therefore to see a gentleman with a carpet bag come down the steps at
+twenty minutes past one. His suspicions being aroused, the sergeant
+followed the man, and with the aid of Constable Pollock succeeded, after
+a most desperate resistance, in arresting him. It was at once clear that
+a daring and gigantic robbery had been committed. Nearly a hundred
+thousand pounds worth of American railway bonds, with a large amount of
+scrip in other mines and companies, were discovered in the bag. On
+examining the premises the body of the unfortunate watchman was found
+doubled up and thrust into the largest of the safes, where it would not
+have been discovered until Monday morning had it not been for the prompt
+action of Sergeant Tuson. The man's skull had been shattered by a blow
+from a poker, delivered from behind. There could be no doubt that
+Beddington had obtained entrance by pretending that he had left
+something behind him, and having murdered the watchman, rapidly rifled
+the large safe, and then made off with his booty. His brother, who
+usually works with him, has not appeared in this job, so far as can at
+present be ascertained, although the police are making energetic
+inquiries as to his whereabouts."
+
+[Illustration: "GLANCING AT THE HAGGARD FIGURE."]
+
+"Well, we may save the police some little trouble in that direction,"
+said Holmes, glancing at the haggard figure huddled up by the window.
+"Human nature is a strange mixture, Watson. You see that even a villain
+and a murderer can inspire such affection that his brother turns to
+suicide when he learns that his neck is forfeited. However, we have no
+choice as to our action. The doctor and I will remain on guard, Mr.
+Pycroft, if you will have the kindness to step out for the police."
+
+
+
+
+_Beauties._
+
+[Illustration: FROM PHOTOGRAPHS BY MESSRS. ELLIOTT AND FRY, BAKER
+STREET, W.]
+
+[Illustration: Miss Webster
+
+Madame Shirmer-Mapleson
+
+Madame Sigrid Arnoldson]
+
+[Illustration: Miss ALICE LETHBRIDGE
+
+Miss Flo Henderson
+
+Mdlle. Del Torre]
+
+
+
+
+_Hands._
+
+BY BECKLES WILLSON.
+
+II.
+
+
+[Illustration: CASTING A HAND FROM LIFE.
+
+(_Studio of Mr. Onslow Ford, A.R.A._)]
+
+The sculptor's practice of casting in plaster the hands of his client is
+of comparatively recent growth. The artist of the old school--and he is
+followed in this by many of the new--disdained so mechanical a means to
+fidelity. Very few, indeed, among the British painters and sculptors of
+the past will be found who took the pains to see that the hands or even
+the figures of their counterfeit presentments on canvas or in marble
+tallied with the originals. Sir Joshua Reynolds, as we know, would have
+regarded this as the essence of finical vulgarity.
+
+The principal drawback in making casts from life is to be found in the
+discomfort, not to speak of the actual torment, it often causes the
+sitter by the adhesion of the plaster to the hairy growth of the skin.
+Various methods are resorted to with a view to obviate this, and in some
+cases successfully.
+
+The hands of Thomas Carlyle--stubborn, combative, mystical--which appear
+in the present paper, will amply repay the closest scrutiny. These hands
+are unwontedly realistic, and emphasize their distinctiveness in every
+vein and wrinkle. They appear to be themselves endowed with each of
+those various qualities which caused their possessor to be regarded as
+one of the most puissant figures in the century's literature. The hand
+is not one, to use Charles Lamb's expressive phrase, to be looked at
+_standing on one leg_. It deserves a keener examination.
+
+[Illustration: THOMAS CARLYLE'S HANDS.]
+
+Mention has been made of the hand of a distinguished prelate, Cardinal
+Manning. It will not be out of place to compare it with the hands of
+the late Archbishop of Canterbury, which were cast posthumously.
+Scarcely anything could be more antagonistic. The nervous personality of
+Manning is wanting here. The hands of the Archbishop seem more to belong
+to the order of the benevolent Bishop Myriel than to that of the
+enthusiast and ascetic.
+
+[Illustration: THE LATE ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY'S HANDS.]
+
+[Illustration: LORD PALMERSTON'S HAND.]
+
+Plenty of opportunity to study the hands of statesmen is afforded in
+those of Lord Palmerston, Count Cavour, Sir Stratford Canning, and Lord
+Melbourne. The fallacy of attaching special qualities to any distinctive
+trait in the hand of an eminent person is most readily discernible here.
+One should avoid _à posteriori_ reasoning. It would be the same for a
+physiognomist to argue a man a statesman from a facial resemblance to
+Mr. Gladstone, or that he is fit to write tragedies because he owns the
+exact facial proportions of Sardou.
+
+[Illustration: COUNT CAVOUR'S HANDS.]
+
+[Illustration: SIR STRATFORD CANNING'S HANDS.]
+
+Among these the hand of Lord Palmerston will stand forth most
+prominently to the reader. Its characteristics are, on the whole,
+sufficiently obvious, in the appended cast, to be thought accentuated.
+It might not unprofitably be noted in connection with those of Stratford
+Canning, Viscount de Redcliffe (for fifty years British Ambassador in
+India), whose statue by Boehm, with Tennyson's famous epitaph:
+
+    Thou third great Canning, stand among our best
+      And noblest, now thy long day's work hath ceased,
+    Here, silent in our Minster of the West,
+      Who wert the voice of England in the East!
+
+is in a nave of the Abbey. With these should be joined the hand of
+Viscount Melbourne, the predecessor of Sir Robert Peel in the
+Premiership, and the great statesman after whom the city of Melbourne
+was named, in order to range this British galaxy against the hands of
+the Italian patriots, Count Cavour and Joseph Garibaldi, whose labours
+resulted in that master stroke of latter-day politics, the unification
+of Italy. Those of the former were cast separately in different
+positions, it being the intention of the sculptor for the right hand to
+rest lightly upon a column and the left to grasp a roll of parchment.
+Garibaldi's hand may be described as both virile and nervous.
+
+[Illustration: LORD MELBOURNE'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: HAND OF JOHN BURNS, M.P.]
+
+[Illustration: HAND OF JOSEPH ARCH, M.P.]
+
+[Illustration: GARIBALDI'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: SIR E. BOEHM'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: HAND OF JOHN JACKSON, R.A.]
+
+Another type of hand is exemplified in the hands of Messrs. Joseph Arch
+and John Burns. Both of these belong to self-made men, accustomed to
+hard manual labour from childhood. Their powerful ruggedness is
+admirably set off by the exquisite symmetry and feminine proportions of
+the hand of John Jackson a Royal Academician and great painter of his
+time. For symmetry, combined with grace, this hand is not surpassed.
+
+The hand of Sir Edgar Boehm was cast by his assistant, Professor
+Lantéri, for the former's statue of Sir Francis Drake. It will be
+observed that the fingers grasp a pair of compasses, the original of
+those which appear in the bronze at Plymouth.
+
+[Illustration: LADY BLESSINGTON'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: MRS. CARLYLE'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: MRS. THORNYCROFT'S HAND.]
+
+Reverting to the ladies again, interest will, no doubt, centre upon the
+hand of the celebrated Lady Blessington, accounted the wittiest hostess
+of her day; and not least attractive will appear Mrs. Carlyle's and
+those of Mrs. Thornycroft and the celebrated Madame Tussaud. The wife of
+the Chelsea sage was herself, as is known, an authoress of no mean
+repute.
+
+A comparison of the hand of Mr. Bancroft with that of Mr. Irving, given
+last month, will prove interesting, if not instructive.
+
+[Illustration: MME. TUSSAUD'S HAND.]
+
+It has been said that the hands of Carlyle are characteristic; that they
+possess, with those of Wilkie Collins, the merit of being precisely the
+sort of hands one would expect to see so labelled. We now present a
+third candidate for this merit of candour in casts of the hands of the
+notorious Arthur Orton, better known under the sobriquet of the
+Claimant. They are pulseless, chubby, oblique: yet they are remarkable.
+In scrutinizing them, it is difficult not to feel that one looks upon
+hands very remote indeed from the ordinary.
+
+[Illustration: MR. BANCROFT'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: HANDS OF THE TICHBORNE CLAIMANT.]
+
+Next we look upon the hand of a giant even superior to Anak, in
+Loushkin, the Russian. But physically great as was the Muscovite, it is
+to be doubted if he really attained the world-wide celebrity of the
+little American, Charles Stratton (otherwise known as "Tom Thumb"),
+whose extremity serves as a foil to his rival for exhibition honours.
+
+Another Boehm relic requires some explanation. Every visitor to the
+Metropolis has doubtless seen and admired the heroic equestrian statue
+of the Duke of Wellington, opposite Apsley House. They may even have
+noticed the right hand, which is represented as lightly holding the rein
+of the animal. The appended was cast from the original model in clay of
+the hand of the Duke, no cast direct from life ever having been
+executed.
+
+[Illustration: THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON'S HAND.]
+
+It is sufficient to say that the subjoined hand and arm of Lady
+Cardigan, wife of the noted Crimean warrior, was one greatly admired by
+Sir Edgar, in whose studio it hung for many years. In like manner will
+the hand of Lady Richard Grosvenor be found the possessor of many
+beautiful and interesting traits.
+
+[Illustration: THE HANDS OF "TOM THUMB" AND LOUSHKIN, THE RUSSIAN
+GIANT.]
+
+[Illustration: LADY CARDIGAN'S HAND.]
+
+A member not altogether dissimilar to that of the musician Liszt is the
+hand of Carl von Angeli, Court painter to Her Majesty, and like that
+also in setting at naught the conclusions too often arrived at by the
+chirognomist. For there is here breadth without symmetry, and an utter
+absence of the poise which we look for in the ideal hand of the artist.
+It is instructive to compare it to the hand of the painter, John
+Jackson.
+
+[Illustration: LADY RICHARD GROSVENOR'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: CARL ANGELI'S HAND.]
+
+Observe the massive, masculine fingers and disproportionately small
+finger-nails in the hands of Professor Weekes, the sculptor. There is
+scarcely any perceptible tapering at the third joint, and the fingers
+all exhibit very little prominence of knuckle or contour. It is anything
+but an artistic hand, and yet its owner was a man of the keenest
+artistic perceptions.
+
+In Frederick Baring's (Lord Ashburton) we find the thick-set fingers,
+and what the chirognomist calls the "lack of manual repose," of the
+great financier. But as his lordship was statesman with a talent for
+debate as well as man of commerce, it will not unlikely be found that
+the hand presented combines the both temperaments.
+
+[Illustration: PROFESSOR WEEKES' HANDS.]
+
+[Illustration: LORD ASHBURTON'S HAND.]
+
+I have been enabled, through the kindness of Mr. J. T. Tussaud, to
+embellish the present collection by an ancient cast of the hand of the
+Comte de Lorge, a famous prisoner in the Bastille. This cast was taken,
+together with a death mask, after death, by the great-grandmother of the
+sculptor, to whom both relics have descended.
+
+The Queen's hands, which appeared in the last issue of this Magazine,
+were cast by John Francis, a famous sculptor of the day. Mr. Hamo
+Thorneycroft, R.A., writes me to say that "While the moulds were being
+made Her Majesty removed all the rings from her fingers _except_ the
+wedding ring. This she was most anxious should not come off, and was in
+considerable fear lest the moulding process might remove it."
+
+[Illustration: COMTE DE LORGE'S HAND.]
+
+
+[_The original drawings of the illustrations in this Magazine are always
+on view, and on sale, in the Art Gallery at these offices, which is open
+to the public without charge._]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: ROSITA]
+
+FROM THE FRENCH OF PITRE CHEVALIER.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+It was harvest day at a house in the little village of Panola, in
+Castile, on the 25th of August, 1838. The great sheaves of corn had been
+borne, amidst universal rejoicing, to their resting-place in the
+granary. All the village inhabitants had shared in this pleasant task,
+and now, following an ancient custom, they had erected a trophy composed
+of a few last sheaves of corn, round which the young girls and men began
+to dance gaily, to the sound of guitars and castanets.
+
+Within the house, in a room which overlooked this charming scene, were
+two men.
+
+The first, seated at a table, was an old man over sixty, but enfeebled
+rather by cares than by age. His venerable head, crowned with white
+hair, drooped upon his breast with patriarchal dignity. The old man, who
+had been a soldier in the Spanish army, was Don Pedro de la Sarga, a
+Castilian as noble as he was poor. His companion was his son, Don
+Stephano, a young man of twenty, considered the most accomplished man in
+Panola. He was handsome; his warm, brown skin, his large, black eyes,
+the regular features, which wore that expression of national pride which
+distinguishes a Castilian from any other race, and his raven-black hair
+were eminently the Spanish type in all its grace and haughtiness. The
+young man wore the Spanish holiday costume, the richness of which has
+made travellers exclaim, more than once, that no European prince is
+clothed like a simple peasant of Castile. Stephano had on a short vest
+of black cloth, lined with yellow silk, ornamented with fringes and
+bunches of ribbons; an embroidered shirt with open collar revealing a
+waistcoat with gilt buttons, knee-breeches of black silk confined at the
+knees by bunches of ribbons, shoes and gaiters of fine brown leather,
+while a black felt hat with drooping plume completed his costume.
+
+Stephano's gloomy face contrasted with his gay attire. He leant against
+the open window, carelessly holding in his hand a bouquet of faded
+jasmine, whilst he gazed with melancholy eyes upon the festive scene
+before him, and only by a shake of the head and a sad smile replied to
+the light badinage of the dancers as they passed the window. But now and
+then his eyes lighted up, and he sighed deeply as a certain dancer,
+prettier than the rest, approached him.
+
+"How pretty she is!" he murmured, as he followed her retreating form.
+
+"Stephano!" called out the old man, who had been watching his son for
+some time.
+
+"How gracefully she dances," continued the handsome dreamer, wrapt in
+his thoughts.
+
+"Stephano!" repeated the old man.
+
+"Yes, father," cried Stephano, with a start, and coming forward. "Do you
+wish to speak to me?"
+
+"From your mysterious air and endless sighs these last few days,
+Stephano, I conclude that you are in love," said his father.
+
+"In love!" stammered the young man. "You think I am in love?"
+
+"I do not think, my son--I am sure of it; and I have only one reproach
+to make to you, and that is that you have not made me a confidant of
+your secret before."
+
+"You shall know all, father," said Stephano, drawing a chair close to
+Don Pedro.
+
+"For the last month," he continued, "I have had in my heart a love which
+nothing can subdue, and the object of my passion is a young girl here, a
+glance from whose eyes is worth more to me than all the world besides;
+but she shuns my love, and on every occasion strives to avoid me. She
+hardly permits me to speak to her for fear that the passion she reads in
+my eyes will break into words."
+
+"Bah!" said the old man, merrily; "it is very likely that she shuns you
+for the reason of your not opening your mouth; you scare the young girl
+with your morose airs."
+
+"Oh, if that were only true," sighed the disconsolate swain.
+
+"Now," said the old man, "there only remains for me to know the name of
+my future daughter-in-law."
+
+The young man was about to pronounce the name which already trembled on
+his lips when a sudden clamour interrupted the most interesting portion
+of this conversation. The peasants, followed by the partners, were
+rushing towards the house, and in the twinkling of an eye the room was
+filled with the animated and noisy throng. The new-comers wore rich
+costumes, more or less copies of Stephano's; some carried guitars,
+others castanets, while most of them leaned upon tall peeled rods,
+forked at the top, and ornamented with ribbons of all colours; each
+carried on the left side of his vest a bouquet similar to that of
+Stephano. The young girls in their silken bodices, short skirts, red
+stockings and mantillas, rattled their castanets as they entered with
+their partners. The joyous crowd surrounded Don Pedro, whilst cries of
+"Rosita! Rosita!" resounded from all sides.
+
+"Well, well, my children, what is it you want?" demanded the village
+Nestor of his clamorous audience.
+
+"We want Mlle. Rosita," they repeated.
+
+"What, my niece? But is she not with you? I thought it was she whom you
+were leading just now round the corn sheaves."
+
+"That is true," replied one of the foremost of the crowd; "everything
+went smoothly until we wished her to take part in our usual ceremony of
+'The Maiden's Choice.'"
+
+"Did you explain to her," asked the old man, "what is the ceremony?"
+
+"Yes, we told her all that was necessary: that it is an old custom in
+Panola on harvest day, after having escorted the daughter of the house
+round the last sheaves of corn, for all her admirers in the village to
+present her, each in his turn, with a bouquet; that she must then choose
+the one she loves amongst them by retaining his bouquet, whilst the
+others are rejected. She answered us by saying that she had only been in
+Panola a few months, and was therefore not forced to adopt our customs,
+and leaving us with these words she fled from us and escaped through the
+little granary door."
+
+"The little shrew!" Don Pedro exclaimed, who, like an amiable old man,
+was always on the side of the young folk. "But my friends," he added,
+"you are but poor Lotharios to be flouted by a young girl; you must
+follow her and bring her back."
+
+"That is just what we have done; but one cannot catch a bird without
+also having wings. She seemed to fly as we followed her, and on reaching
+the granary she entered and slammed the door in our faces; so we have
+come, as a last resource, to you, Don Pedro, to ask her to comply with
+our wishes."
+
+"You are right," replied the old man, with all the gravity of a judge,
+"you must be satisfied at once"; and he looked round for Don Stephano,
+who was standing more moody than ever behind a giggling group of young
+peasants.
+
+"My son," he said, "go and bring your cousin here. If she refuses, tell
+her that I particularly wish her to come."
+
+"I will go, father," said Stephano, after a second's hesitation; and he
+went out.
+
+There was a slight pause; then shouts and acclamations and rattling of
+castanets burst forth, as Rosita, with downcast eyes, entered the room,
+led by Stephano. Well might they welcome with fervour such a charming
+creature. Rosita was just eighteen. She wore upon her golden brown hair
+a black lace mantilla, which contrasted with her creamy complexion and
+the liquid depth of her large brown eyes. A brown velvet bodice showed
+off to perfection her slight yet rounded figure; and her silk skirts
+just revealed her pretty ankles and small feet in their silk stockings
+and neat shoes.
+
+Rosita was a native of Navarre. She had quitted Tafalla, her native
+village, on the death of her father and mother, who had been victims of
+the Civil War which at this time desolated the country, and had been
+conducted not without peril to her uncle's house at Panola, in which she
+had since taken up her abode.
+
+"Rosita," said Don Pedro to his niece, taking her hand, "I have made
+your apologies to your friends for the trick you have played them. It is
+your turn now to atone for your misdeed, by submitting to an old custom.
+Among the brave Castilians who surround you there are many suitors for
+your hand. There must be one among them whom you secretly favour. Your
+choice is entirely free, and even the favoured one after the ceremony
+will then have only the right to please you and to merit your hand."
+
+"But, uncle----" faltered the young girl.
+
+"I will take no denial, my dear," interrupted the old man.
+
+Rosita strove in vain to protest, but her imperturbable uncle would not
+listen, and gave a sign to the peasants to begin the ceremony, in which
+he seemed to take as keen an interest as they did themselves. Thereupon
+the majority of the young men, darting furious glances of jealousy at
+one another, prepared for the contest. Rosita, at her uncle's side,
+stood at one end of the room. At her right and left were grouped the
+young peasant girls, admiring without envy the queen of the _fête_, and
+forming her court. Stephano stood behind with dejected mien. Those with
+guitars touched their instruments lightly now and then, and upon this
+scene, worthy of the pencil of Leopold Roberts, the sun, now setting at
+the horizon, cast a calm and solemn light.
+
+The first peasant who came forward was a tall young man, with a ruddy
+complexion.
+
+"My name is Geronimo Caldaroz, and I am twenty-five. It has been the
+talk of the village why I did not marry, and it has been said it was
+because I had never yet seen a maiden beautiful enough to please me. But
+now I have found her; it is you, Rosita. Will you accept my bouquet?" He
+presented his bouquet to the young girl, who blushed as she received it,
+and then let it fall.
+
+"Refused! Refused!" whispered the spectators, whilst the young man
+disappeared into the crowd, and a second one took his place. But the
+same thing occurred, and with the same result. Soon the jasmine bouquets
+covered the ground round the young girl's feet. The rejected suitors
+multiplied so fast that they could no longer hide their discomfiture
+amongst the others. Restless and smiling, Don Pedro wondered why his
+niece was so severe, and the remaining suitors seemed to hesitate
+whether to advance into the lists or not. Then the last three timidly
+advanced one by one toward Rosita. The two first were not even heard to
+the end of their speech, and then all eyes were fixed with interest upon
+the last. Rosita let him finish his discourse, took his bouquet, which
+she scrutinized demurely, and then uttering a deep sigh let it fall upon
+the amorous trophy piled at her feet.
+
+A murmur rose amongst the stupefied villagers. Don Pedro approached his
+niece.
+
+"Well, my child," he said, "have you thought of what you have done?"
+
+"Yes, uncle," Rosita replied. "Did you not tell me yourself that I was
+perfectly free?"
+
+"Free to choose, without doubt; but not to send all your suitors away."
+
+Rosita cast down her eyes and made no reply.
+
+"Pardon me, father, but there still remains one," said Stephano,
+breaking the silence.
+
+"Where is he?" everyone asked at once.
+
+"Here he is."
+
+Rosita trembled so violently that she was compelled to lean for support
+upon her uncle's arm, and Don Pedro, more astonished than anyone, rushed
+towards his son.
+
+"What, Stephano?" he said joyfully. "It is your cousin whom----"
+
+"Yes, father," replied the young man. "It is she whom I love."
+
+In the midst of such general interest Stephano, pale with emotion,
+advanced towards his cousin.
+
+"Rosita, I love you," he said, simply. "Will you keep this bouquet which
+I offer to you?"
+
+The young man pronounced these words with a voice so sweet and
+expressive, and the gesture with which he offered the symbolic flower
+was so imploring and passionate, that a sympathetic thrill ran through
+the spectators, and tears bedimmed Don Pedro's eyes.
+
+[Illustration: "'ROSITA, I LOVE YOU,' HE SAID."]
+
+Rosita, not less pale than her cousin, took the bouquet with a trembling
+hand, gazed upon it tenderly, then made a movement as if to throw it
+down, paused, and then at last, with head turned aside, let it fall.
+
+"Santa Maria! He also!" cried the crowd, mournfully.
+
+"Do not condemn me without hearing my justification," cried Rosita,
+turning to Don Pedro.
+
+"Your justification?" repeated Stephano, with relief.
+
+"Uncle," she said, after a pause, "there is a secret which I may have
+been wrong in concealing from you hitherto, but I must confide it to you
+alone."
+
+"To me!" cried the astonished old man.
+
+"I will come with you at once," and, seizing Rosita's hand, he led her
+away, making signs to the peasants as he did so to disperse.
+
+Stephano strolled out to breathe the air upon the hills, whose shadows
+were beginning to slope down into the valley. The sky was lighted only
+by the afterglow of the red, sunken sun; the evening breeze carried
+along in the warm air the perfume of the jasmine flowers and orange
+groves in bloom, and no sound was heard but the music of guitars and
+castanets, mingled sometimes with the faint tinkle of sheep bells.
+
+When Stephano re-entered he found his father and cousin in the lower
+hall. Rosita, on perceiving him, made a pretext for rising, and
+hurriedly left the room. Don Pedro and his son were left alone.
+
+"One word, father," said Stephano. "Does Rosita love me, and will she
+also become my wife?"
+
+"You must forget Rosita," replied the old man. "You must tear from your
+heart even the remembrance of your love."
+
+The young man abandoned himself to despair.
+
+"I shall never forget her," he said, passionately. "My love for Rosita
+will only cease with my life."
+
+And he rushed from the room, leaving the old man wondering.
+
+
+II.
+
+For some weeks the inmates of Don Pedro's house were forced to remain
+prisoners, for rebel soldiers filled the neighbouring villages, and
+troops of guerillas were being mustered to put them to flight. It was a
+morning, early in September, just after the sun had peered above the
+horizon. A fine rain had fallen during the night, and the drops which
+rested on the foliage sparkled like myriads of diamonds. The streets
+were as yet deserted; some muleteers alone passed along them at
+intervals. Don Pedro's house was the only one astir.
+
+Don Stephano, according to his custom, had risen with the dawn, and was
+now alone in the lower hall, standing opposite the window which
+overlooked the high road. He was occupied in fixing an iron lance upon a
+wooden rod, at which he gazed abstractedly.
+
+The sound of a voice filling the air with song attracted his attention;
+it was singing the Moorish romance of "Adlemar and Adalifa," and to the
+quick perception of a Spanish ear was marked with a slight Ultramontaine
+accent, which Stephano discerned like a true Castilian. Without moving
+he listened to the song which awoke the echoes of the valley. The
+amorous words recalled to Stephano's mind the thought of Rosita, and he
+sighed deeply. Then he listened anew to the voice, which grew nearer and
+nearer, and in which, in spite of its strange accent, he seemed to hear
+an understrain of singular emotion. His conjectures were not long,
+however. A man enveloped in a large mantle peered in at the open window,
+and after throwing a rapid glance behind him leapt into the room.
+Stephano recoiled at the sight of such a strange visitor, and felt
+tempted to seize the man, whom he took at first for a robber. Then a
+troop of horsemen dashed past the house. The stranger gave a sigh of
+relief. Then for the first time he caught sight of Stephano.
+
+"I must be careful," the soldier muttered, as he drew his cloak more
+carefully round him. "This Spaniard does not look over benevolent."
+
+"Who can this man be?" thought Stephano, as he instinctively put his
+hand on his pistols; but on seeing the stranger advance towards him with
+a pleasant smile, he paused.
+
+"Noble Castilian," said the stranger, "are you a man to oblige an enemy
+in peril, and who for a quarter of an hour wishes you no more harm than
+if you were his brother?"
+
+Before replying, Stephano scrutinized his questioner. He saw before him
+a man of about twenty-eight, with a frank face and light hair and
+moustache. His accent, and the blue pantaloons which appeared under the
+brown mantle, proclaimed him a Frenchman.
+
+[Illustration: "THE STRANGER."]
+
+"No unarmed man is my enemy," replied Stephano, "and from the moment my
+roof was over your head you became my guest."
+
+"Shake hands on it! You are a fine fellow," cried the soldier, holding
+out his hand. At the same time he drew aside his mantle, and Stephano
+recognised the uniform worn by the French volunteers of Don Carlos's
+army. "Now, if you have a drop of anything to drink handy, I will tell
+you in a few words what has brought me here."
+
+Stephano opened the sideboard, and brought out a bottle and glasses. The
+soldier wiped his moustache as he began.
+
+"You see before you," he said, with frank abruptness, "Charles
+Dulaurier, a soldier by birth and profession, lieutenant in the
+Grenadiers of His Majesty Charles V.--pardon me, Don Carlos. Being
+stationed some few miles from here, I asked for leave of absence this
+morning to join some troops which (pardon me) are going to make a raid
+upon this very village this morning. But, thanks to my foolhardiness in
+starting off alone, I soon found myself in the hands of guerillas. I
+escaped. They pursued me. But I, though alone in a strange country and
+unarmed, led them a nice dance for half an hour. I was just about to
+fall again into their hands when I came in sight of this house. I duped
+them by my ruse of pitching my voice in such a manner as to lead them to
+think I was beyond the village, whilst I at the same time took refuge
+here. To conclude, my worthy fellow, no doubt the guerillas are not
+blind, and not finding any trace of me upon the route, will return to
+Panola. Consequently, if you are a host to my liking you will----"
+
+"Conceal you," said Stephano, quickly. "You are right!" and he glanced
+round with uneasiness. The lieutenant struck him on the shoulder. "One
+minute," he said; "the guerillas cannot reappear for half an hour. This
+little expedition, as you may imagine, was not my only motive for coming
+to Panola, and I must again abuse your patience in asking you some
+questions upon a certain subject which is the motive of my expedition."
+
+"Go on," replied Stephano, with resignation.
+
+"I came here to look for a young girl," said the Frenchman, twisting his
+moustache, "and as, perhaps, you will be so good as to give me some
+information on this point, it would be better for you to know the story.
+Last year my regiment, after a vigorous resistance, entered a village in
+Navarre."
+
+"A village in Navarre?" repeated Stephano, and his brow darkened.
+
+"One house had been so well defended, indeed, that it was found
+necessary to surround it, and our infuriated soldiers, drunk with
+carnage, determined to massacre everyone within. I luckily surprised
+them as they drew their sabres upon two poor old creatures and their
+young daughter. I threw myself between the victims and their butchers;
+the wretches turned upon me and I fell wounded by a bayonet thrust, but
+they were saved. The kind people who owed me their lives bore me to
+their house, and gave me every care. The young girl watched at my
+bedside for more than a fortnight. Briefly the beauty, the tenderness of
+the little girl, won my heart. Losing no time, I declared my passion.
+She whispered, blushing, that I might speak to her parents. As soon as I
+was well enough to walk, I hastened to the worthy old man, who, after
+the shock he had received, became mortally ill, and felt his end
+approach. I had no sooner asked him for his daughter's hand than he
+exclaimed, 'God be praised! I shall not now die without having
+recompensed our deliverer.' At the same time he took the young girl's
+hand and mine, and, after making us exchange rings, clasped them
+together. Then he stretched forth his trembling hands above our heads to
+bless us, whilst on our knees by the bedside we swore eternal fidelity
+to each other. Three days after the good man died, and the same day my
+regiment left for Castile. Seven months passed without my hearing any
+news from my betrothed, and it was only by chance I learned that on her
+mother's death she had quitted Navarre to take up her abode in her
+uncle's house at Panola.
+
+"But what is the matter?" said the lieutenant, as Stephano rose
+hurriedly.
+
+"I know enough," replied the young man in a hollow voice. "The village
+was Tafalla, and the young girl's name is Rosita."
+
+"But what is there in that?" cried the lieutenant, who understood
+nothing of Stephano's emotion. "You know Rosita? She is here? You are
+silent. Heavens! Is she dead--or married?"
+
+"No, no," replied Stephano, with an effort. "Rosita is here. No doubt
+she loves you and watches for your return with impatience."
+
+"Where, then, shall I find my betrothed?"
+
+Stephano was about to reply to this question when the tramp of horses
+was heard. It was the troop returning.
+
+"Softly!" whispered Dulaurier as he crept towards the window. "Yes,
+these are my friends. Where will you hide me?"
+
+Stephano regarded him with a savage gleam in his eyes and muttered to
+himself, "This man comes here to blast my happiness, and I must protect
+his life at the peril of my own."
+
+"What am I to do?" repeated Dulaurier.
+
+"Take this dagger," said Stephano, "put on your mantle and follow me."
+He unfastened a little door which opened upon a staircase which led into
+the garden, and descended, followed by Dulaurier. They stole along
+behind a thick hedge of hawthorn until they came to the trees of a
+little orchard, from which rose the roof of a ruined summer-house. On
+reaching this spot Stephano installed the lieutenant so that he could
+watch both the road and the garden; then having arranged upon the course
+they should take, Stephano hastened back to the house.
+
+[Illustration: "THEY STOLE ALONG."]
+
+Don Pedro was in the lower hall, alone, when his son entered.
+
+"I have a request to make to you," said the young man, clasping his
+father's hand convulsively. "I want you to let me start at once to join
+my brothers and to fight for Spain."
+
+"Can you then leave your cousin?" said Don Pedro, sadly. "And you do not
+know----"
+
+"I know more than you, father, more than Rosita herself about this
+affair," interrupted Stephano. "Is not Rosita betrothed to a French
+volunteer in Don Carlos's army, and is this not the secret she confided
+to you on harvest day?"
+
+"It is true. But how have you discovered it?"
+
+"From a man flying from the pursuit of guerillas; no other than the man
+himself, Lieutenant Charles Dulaurier!"
+
+"Is it possible?" exclaimed the stupefied old man.
+
+"You see, father, that it is absolutely necessary for me to go," cried
+Stephano. "I cannot wait until Rosita and Dulaurier are united. Their
+happiness would be more than I could bear, and I have thought of a plan
+by which the lieutenant can be saved without putting off my departure. I
+shall join the troop of guerillas who are seeking Dulaurier in the
+village. Seeing me become one of themselves their suspicions will be
+lulled, and I shall save my rival by departing with his enemies."
+
+"You are right," replied his father, after a painful pause, but he could
+not utter a word more.
+
+The young man proceeded to take down from the wall his pistols and his
+gun; he placed the former in his belt and the latter on his shoulder,
+took his hat and stepped forward to bid his father farewell. But as he
+threw himself into the arms of the weeping old man, the door opened and
+Rosita entered.
+
+The young girl glanced quickly from one to the other, and then her eyes
+remained fixed on Stephano.
+
+"What are you going to do?" she asked, examining his equipment.
+
+"I am going away," replied Stephano. "Farewell, Rosita, be happy.
+Farewell, father," he added, embracing Don Pedro.
+
+"He is going," said Rosita, her eyes dim with tears, "without one
+friendly smile, without one clasp of his hand. Oh! Stephano," she
+exclaimed, springing forward. "You cannot part from me thus!"
+
+"You are keeping me!" said the bewildered young man.
+
+"Yes," she replied, seizing his hand. "Stay, Stephano, do not go. I
+implore you!"
+
+"Remain!" cried the young man, passionately. "Remain to see you in the
+arms of another? Never!"
+
+As he moved towards the door, Rosita sprang towards him with
+outstretched arms. "And what if it is you whom I love, Stephano? What if
+I have never loved anyone but you?" A thunderbolt would hardly have
+produced more effect than did these words.
+
+"You love me?" he repeated, approaching his cousin. "Rosita, for mercy's
+sake, repeat those words once more, so that I may be sure of having
+heard aright."
+
+"Yes, I love you," repeated the young girl, tenderly; "no one but you!
+Will you stay now?"
+
+"For ever, if you wish it!" cried the enraptured youth, throwing down
+his gun and pistols. "Look at me, Rosita, that I may read in your eyes
+that word which gives me life, and which I have waited for so long. How
+blind and foolish I have been! But that will be all right now, will it
+not, my beloved?" As he spoke he embraced her passionately. By both of
+them the world was forgotten.
+
+Through the open window came the clink of spurs and rattling of sabres.
+This sound, to which Stephano and Rosita were deaf, struck on the ear of
+Don Pedro and paralyzed him with terror.
+
+"Stephano!" he cried at last. "Remember Lieutenant Dulaurier!"
+
+[Illustration: "REMEMBER LIEUTENANT DULAURIER!"]
+
+"Ah!" groaned Stephano, rudely torn from his ecstasy of happiness; and
+he fixed his gaze upon his cousin.
+
+The girl had not even heard Don Pedro.
+
+"Rosita," said her lover, "you say you love me, but you have a
+_fiancé!_"
+
+"Dulaurier!" cried the startled girl. "Great Heaven! pardon me, I had
+forgotten."
+
+"If this man," continued Stephano, "came here to claim your promise, you
+would reply, would you not, that friendship alone, not love, had drawn
+you towards him, and that your hand, promised when you hardly knew what
+you did, would now be given without your heart?"
+
+"Yes, that is what I should answer; but he is not likely to come here,
+Stephano."
+
+"And what if he were here already?" asked an impressive voice.
+
+Don Pedro at the same time stepped forward between the young people, and
+before the severe face of the Spaniard their eyes drooped.
+
+"Father!" faltered the young man.
+
+"Silence!" cried the old man. "Your duty is clear. What if Dulaurier
+were in the house, Rosita--what if, more faithful than you, he had come
+to claim his promise, made at the death-bed of your father? I ask you
+what you would answer."
+
+Trembling and submissive as a criminal before his judge, the young girl
+turned her eyes from Stephano to Don Pedro.
+
+"I should reply to Lieutenant Dulaurier that, before God and man, I am
+his betrothed bride, and that while he lives no other can be my
+husband."
+
+"Come then, my child, prepare to receive your _fiancé_," and Don Pedro
+held out his hand to his niece to lead her away.
+
+"You are destroying my happiness!" cried Stephano.
+
+"But in return I give you back your honour," replied Don Pedro. "Look
+after the lieutenant, for here come the guerillas!" and he went out.
+
+"What a dream, and what an awakening!" murmured Stephano as he was left
+alone. "Rosita vows she loves me, and at the same time declares she will
+never be mine while Dulaurier lives. _While he lives!_ And I must take
+upon myself the peril of saving him, when I have only to let him----Oh,
+how despair tempts us to horrible deeds! Is there time to fly, to quit
+this spot where each thought is torture: to hasten and join the
+guerillas before they enter the house? For, alas! if they enter now and
+demand where their enemy is--by Heaven! I shall not have the strength to
+resist--I must fly!"
+
+Picking up his gun and pistols he rushed towards the door, but recoiled
+at the sight of a man in the uniform of a captain of guerillas, who by a
+gesture forced him to pause.
+
+[Illustration: "IT IS TOO LATE!"]
+
+"Malediction--it is too late!" murmured the young man, as he dropped
+upon a chair, and let his unheeded weapons fall to the ground.
+
+"Two sentinels before each door and window," called out the captain to
+the soldiers who followed him. "This is the last house in which our
+prisoner could take refuge," he continued, striking impatiently the butt
+end of his rifle upon the ground. "Search well, comrades; you know he
+who takes the Frenchman prisoner is to have the honour of firing the
+first shot upon him, and is also to receive twenty douros for reward."
+Thereupon he advanced into the room. "Well, my good fellow," he said to
+Stephano; "what are you going to do with these weapons? Are they to
+defend yourself or to protect the officer whom you have hidden here?"
+
+"No one is hidden in this house," replied the young man, with the
+courage which peril bestows. "The La Sargas are known throughout the
+country to be devoted to Spain and the Queen. I have three brothers in
+the national army, and I have just picked up these weapons with the
+intention of joining your troops."
+
+The captain looked at him with a sneering smile. Then he turned to his
+companions, who had just returned from searching the house.
+
+"Well, have you found anything?"
+
+"Only a young girl and an old man," was the reply.
+
+"Bring the old man here," said the captain; then he turned to Stephano.
+"And you, sir, go with my lieutenant and these three men, and show them
+every room there is"; then he murmured in the lieutenant's ear,
+slipping at the same time a purse of gold into his hand: "Spare neither
+threats nor persuasion to gain this young man over to our side. Whatever
+it costs, I must recapture our prisoner."
+
+Stephano felt tempted to resist these orders, but he reflected that this
+would only draw suspicion upon him, and he led the way up the stairs,
+which were placed in a corner of the room.
+
+At the same time Don Pedro entered, guarded by two soldiers and leaning
+on his staff. Then an interval ensued, and the minutes flew past.
+Suddenly a pistol shot was heard. Everyone gave a start of alarm. Then
+one of the guards who had gone out with Stephano came rushing down the
+stairs and into the room.
+
+"The bird is snared, or will be in a few minutes," he cried. "Our
+prisoner," he continued, pointing through the window, "is in that
+building which you see at the bottom of the garden."
+
+"How do you know this?" asked the captain.
+
+"From the young man who is upstairs with the lieutenant."
+
+"From Stephano!" cried the old man, growing pale with horror.
+
+"Ah, ah!" laughed the captain, "your son does not seem very hard to
+persuade."
+
+"The lieutenant having discovered nothing," the man went on, "told three
+of us to go and search the granary, and took advantage of the occasion
+to take the young man aside. I watched them. A purse of gold and the
+barrel of a pistol have been the principal inducements. The sly fellow
+at first was very obstinate, and it was then that the lieutenant fired
+the pistol at him to frighten him. The young man seemed to be moved in a
+singular manner by the shot. He gave way with good grace, and pointed
+the pavilion out to us."
+
+Whilst the captain lent a joyful ear to this narrative, Don Pedro, on
+the contrary, listened with terror mingled with incredulity. At these
+last words he could contain himself no longer, and broke in violently:--
+
+"Enough, wretch; enough!" he cried. "What you say is impossible! It is
+an infamous calumny! My son is quite incapable of such villainy!"
+
+"Look, senor," replied the man, pointing to the stairs.
+
+Stephano in truth was descending with the lieutenant, holding the purse
+in his hand. His pale and agitated face seemed to proclaim his guilt,
+and Don Pedro sank back fainting on a seat. Stephano crossed the room
+with a faltering step without observing his father, and, reaching the
+window, gazed out upon the road.
+
+In recalling to mind his son's jealousy of Dulaurier, Don Pedro
+understood the facts of the matter--that he had sold his guest to get
+rid of a detested rival. Maddened by passion, he had without doubt lost
+all control over himself. After having exchanged some words in a low
+voice with his lieutenant, the captain made a sign to two of his men.
+
+"Remain with this fellow," he said, in a tone of contempt, pointing to
+Stephano, "until we reach the pavilion; if he makes one movement shoot
+him, and when a volley announces to you that we are not deceived, join
+us to start upon our route."
+
+"Very good, captain," answered the two soldiers, taking up their
+position on each side of Stephano, whilst the others went out softly.
+
+A mournful silence reigned in the chamber.
+
+Stephano stood erect before the window, with haggard eyes fixed upon the
+road; Don Pedro, mute and motionless in his chair, seemed like a man
+bereft of all at a single blow. Then, his misery overwhelming him, he
+covered his face with his hands and wept. Stephano turned round quickly,
+and for the first time saw his father.
+
+"Great Heavens! He was there, and heard all!" he murmured. "Father!" he
+cried imploringly.
+
+"Call me your father no more," cried the old man, with flaming eyes,
+"unless you can tell me that I am blind and deaf, or that I have dreamed
+that my son was a coward, a traitor, an assassin! Tell me so, Stephano,
+for pity's sake!"
+
+The young man made an effort as if he were about to speak, but paused at
+the sight of his two guards; the strain was so painful that he was
+forced to lean for support on one of the guerilla's arms. Then he turned
+away; Don Pedro rose from his seat and came towards his son.
+
+"His eye never quits this fatal window," he murmured to himself. "It
+looks as if he watched to see the success of his perfidy, that he wishes
+to assure himself that his rival does not escape. Wretch!" he burst
+forth, "if this is so, may you be----"
+
+Suddenly a hand was laid softly upon the old man's arm. It was Rosita.
+
+"Ah! it is you, Rosita!" said Don Pedro with a bewildered stare.
+"Wretched man that I am, what was I about to do?" he added, passing his
+hand over his forehead.
+
+Rosita came farther forward into the room.
+
+"Stephano guarded by two soldiers!" she cried. "Holy Virgin! what does
+this mean, and what has happened?"
+
+And she made an instinctive movement towards her cousin. Her uncle
+stopped her.
+
+"Keep away from this wretched man!" he cried, "for he is a coward and a
+traitor; he has betrayed your betrothed!"
+
+"Betrayed my betrothed!" cried the girl, with horror. "It is
+impossible!"
+
+"Not only has he betrayed him," continued the old man, taking his
+niece's hand, "but he is watching for the success of his treason. Do you
+recognise my son, Rosita?" he added, with heartrending despair, "or the
+man whom you loved?"
+
+Here the poor old man broke down completely, and sank back into his
+chair. The girl gazed at him with consternation. Even the rough soldiers
+were touched by the scene, and turned their heads aside.
+
+[Illustration: "THE POOR OLD MAN BROKE DOWN COMPLETELY."]
+
+At that instant a loud report shook the walls. It was the captain's
+volley. The two soldiers exchanged a meaning glance and disappeared. As
+soon as they went out Rosita threw herself in Don Pedro's arms.
+
+"Dulaurier is dead!" said the old man, gloomily.
+
+"He is saved!" cried Stephano, coming forward, and throwing from him as
+he did so the purse of gold. "Yes, father, yes, Rosita, the lieutenant
+is safe and sound, and will be with us in a few seconds."
+
+"How can that be?" cried Don Pedro, passing from despair to joy.
+
+"Before leaving Dulaurier in the pavilion we had arranged that he was to
+be informed by a pistol shot when he must leave his hiding-place for the
+granary whilst his enemies were searching the pavilion. You understand
+now how the guerilla's shot agitated me. For, of course, Dulaurier,
+taking the report for the signal agreed upon, would leave the pavilion
+for the granary, and would then fall into the hands of his pursuers. The
+only plan to save him was to get the soldiers away from the granary,
+which I did by feigning to betray Dulaurier, by accepting the purse, and
+pointing out the pavilion as his hiding-place. For a quarter of an hour
+I have endured the tortures of hell, but I have saved the man who
+confided in me, and I am still worthy of you both!"
+
+The young man had hardly finished his narrative when his father and
+Rosita were at his feet begging for forgiveness. Then Stephano hastened
+to the granary, and called the lieutenant's name, but there was no
+response, and soon Stephano's surprise was changed to uneasiness. He
+rushed into the granary. It was empty. Stephano reappeared, pale,
+tottering and breathless.
+
+"Dulaurier is not in the granary," he cried. "He cannot have taken the
+pistol shot for my signal. He must have remained, and that report we
+heard was his death-shot."
+
+He paused abruptly. Don Pedro and Rosita understood, and burst forth
+into an exclamation of horror.
+
+"Victory! Victory!" cried a hundred voices.
+
+Their despair and consternation were changed to the most lively
+astonishment, when a detachment of Don Carlos's volunteers entered the
+house, led by Dulaurier himself.
+
+"Dulaurier!" exclaimed Stephano, Don Pedro, and Rosita at the same time.
+
+"Our enemies!" said the old Castilian, whilst his niece shrank behind
+him.
+
+"Say rather friends," replied Dulaurier, pressing Stephano's hand
+warmly.
+
+"But how has all this happened?" began the bewildered Stephano.
+
+"One minute's attention. For half an hour I waited patiently after your
+departure in the little pavilion, when I heard the signal we arranged on
+of the pistol shot. I quitted my hiding-place at once, and was preparing
+to creep towards the granary, when, casting a glance upon the road, I
+recognised the uniforms of the volunteers of my regiment. Briefly,"
+continued Dulaurier, showing the soldiers who surrounded him, "here are
+the gentlemen, whom I have the honour of presenting to you. Like good
+comrades, they determined to avenge me, and we caught the guerillas in
+an ambush as they were searching the pavilion. Bang! a general
+discharge, and thirty men were lying on the ground, and the rest running
+away for their lives."
+
+"The volley of which we believed you the victim!" interrupted Stephano.
+
+"You understand the rest. Not wishing to quit Panola without thanking
+you, and also wishing to see about that little matter which I mentioned
+to you this morning, we came on here. And now," he added to Stephano,
+with the air of a man who has no time to lose, "I must thank you most
+warmly for all you have done for me."
+
+There was such a tone of kindness in these words that Stephano could do
+nothing but grasp his hand cordially in return.
+
+"Anyone else?" cried the effusive officer, looking quickly round. "You
+have a father, a mother, a wife, perhaps? Where are they? This noble old
+man must be your father," and upon Stephano's making an affirmative sign
+he grasped the old man's hand, and wrung it with force.
+
+"Are there no ladies in your family?" asked Dulaurier with a gallant
+air.
+
+It was then that in spite of Rosita's efforts to avoid his attention he
+caught sight of her as she hid behind Don Pedro's high-backed chair.
+
+"Ah! here is one!" he said, without recognising his betrothed. He
+stepped forward towards her.
+
+"Most amiable senora," he began politely, "permit me----" He paused,
+gazing with stupefied eyes upon the young girl, and then made a sign to
+his soldiers to leave them.
+
+"Good Heavens!" he exclaimed, "if I am not deceived it is Rosita, my
+pretty _fiancée_!"
+
+"You are right; it is I, Monsieur Dulaurier," faltered the young girl.
+
+The light of happiness vanished from all the faces in the room except
+the lieutenant's.
+
+"You can easily understand, my pretty one, what has led me to Panola,"
+said Dulaurier.
+
+"I presume you have come to remind Rosita," answered Don Pedro, "of the
+promise that she gave you at her dying father's bedside. She has not
+forgotten it, senor. She recognises her duty, and you have only one word
+to say----"
+
+"Will you answer me yourself, Rosita?" interrupted Dulaurier, marking
+her extreme pallor and agitation. "You know what I have the right of
+claiming; are you still able to give it me freely?"
+
+"Without doubt," she murmured; "if I give you my hand, my heart will go
+with it."
+
+"Words, nothing but words!" thought the lieutenant, who grew pale in his
+turn. "All women are weathercocks. It is clear I am superseded," and he
+bit his lip until it bled. "But I should like to know who is my
+substitute," and he turned mechanically to Stephano. He found him as
+mute and as troubled as Rosita. The truth flashed across him. "I cannot
+blame the brave young man," he murmured to himself, "for falling in love
+with his cousin. It has not prevented him from saving my life at the
+expense of his love and honour, and as I have no wish for a heart not
+wholly mine, I have now to render sacrifice for sacrifice, and to keep
+the reputation of France equal to that of Spain." He turned to Rosita
+with a smile.
+
+"Mademoiselle," he began, "when we plighted our troth, and I told you
+that I loved you devotedly, I was as sincere as I am to-day, only I took
+upon myself too much, and have contracted several other engagements,
+more or less similar to yours." He gave a forced laugh as he pronounced
+these words.
+
+"That is enough, senor," said Don Pedro. "But why have you then come to
+Panola to claim her promise?"
+
+"Who said that I was here for that purpose?" asked Dulaurier, abruptly.
+Stephano, indeed, recollected that the Frenchman had not said a single
+word which implied that he came to claim Rosita's hand. "I implore
+Mademoiselle Rosita to pardon me," pursued Dulaurier, "and I propose
+that we exchange rings again."
+
+[Illustration: "I PROPOSE THAT WE EXCHANGE RINGS AGAIN."]
+
+It was no sooner said than done. Dulaurier turned and clasped Stephano's
+hand again, and now the young man saw with apprehension that Dulaurier's
+eyes were dim with tears. Dulaurier could keep up the farce no longer,
+and his heart was breaking behind the smile upon his lips.
+
+"Dulaurier!" said the young man, "you weep: you are unhappy! What you
+have said has been only a sublime falsehood! You love Rosita--you wish
+to marry her--and if you have the generosity to renounce all for me, it
+must not be at the expense of your happiness."
+
+"Hush!" said Dulaurier, as he took him aside. "Do not undo my work. But
+since you have found it out, you are right. I did come back to claim
+Rosita. I have always loved her, and have loved none but her. But do not
+breathe a word of this. Let no thought of my unhappiness cast a shadow
+on her life. Sacrifice for sacrifice, young man. France is equal to
+Spain, and we are quits.
+
+"Farewell, brave Castilians," he cried aloud, "celebrate the marriage
+merrily: and let us hope that we shall never meet upon the battlefield
+of this unhappy country."
+
+"Farewell!" replied Stephano, huskily.
+
+Dulaurier pressed Don Pedro's and Stephano's hands, kissed that of
+Rosita, and joined his comrades outside.
+
+"Wheel to the right--forward!" he shouted, at the head of his battalion.
+
+Then came the roll of the drum, and they all marched past the window.
+
+"Rosita," said Stephano to his cousin, "you are free, and we are going
+to be happy; but never let us forget Lieutenant Dulaurier!"
+
+
+
+
+_The Queer Side of Things._
+
+
+The N. P. M. C
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Let us return for a space to the two spirits William and James, whose
+conversations we described in past numbers. Some readers may possibly
+recall how the spirit James, while wandering through the darkness of
+unoccupied Space (about five-and-twenty billions of eons before the
+commencement of Eternity), conceived a wild idea of the possibility of
+the existence of worlds--worlds occupied by an impracticability called
+"man." It will be recollected how the wiser spirit William cast
+well-merited ridicule upon this insanely impossible phantasy of a
+disordered mind; nay, even condescended to crush, by perspicuous and
+irrefutable logic, the grotesque and preposterous idea.
+
+Very well; it is now William's turn.
+
+"James," he said one day as they chanced to sight each other in the
+awful solitude of Space, "I have been thinking over that world of yours,
+and your crowning absurdity, 'man.' Pray do not become too inflated with
+weak conceit at my condescending to think about such trivialities; for
+the fact is, any subject of thought--however hopelessly foolish--is a
+relief amid the tediousness of Space. Well, I have been reflecting upon
+that characteristic which you conceive as distinguishing your puppet
+'man'--I allude to _intelligence_. I think you suggested that he would
+possess intelligence?"
+
+James only fidgeted uneasily, and made a feeble sign of affirmation.
+
+"Very well," continued William. "Now, I have been putting two and two
+together, and have found out the nature of that quality which you
+mistake for intelligence; its true name is 'low cunning.' Every fresh
+piece of absurdity which you have told me touching the tricks of your
+queer creatures has supplied new evidence of this. Your creatures were
+to feed upon the substance of the 'world' on which they lived, and, ever
+increasing in numbers, would logically in course of time find there was
+not a mouthful apiece. I think we agreed about that? Well, let us
+consider that period, some time before the creatures should actually
+become exterminated by the natural evolution of events--the time when
+all the eatable products of their world would be growing scarce. You
+went so far as to imagine a great many products----"
+
+"Yes!" said James, gazing afar off in the absorption of his imagination.
+"Yes--there were eggs, and oysters, and poultry, and mushrooms, and----"
+
+"Ah!--the very things I've been reflecting about. Well, I've been
+dreaming that, at the period of which I speak, when all the commodities
+were becoming scarce, your human beings would agree to make poisonous
+artificial articles of consumption with which to poison themselves by
+degrees, and thus reduce the population to convenient limits."
+
+"No!" cried James, pondering deeply. "Their idea would be to poison not
+_themselves_, but _each other_!"
+
+[Illustration: "POISON."]
+
+"Ah! I see. Then they would make some sort of effort to prevent
+themselves being poisoned?"
+
+"Oh, yes; they would pass Adulteration Acts for the purpose."
+
+"I see; and any creature who did not wish to be poisoned could take
+advantage of these Acts to protect himself?"
+
+"Certainly. The Acts would be very stringent. Let us suppose, for
+example, that a certain man suspected that the butter supplied to him
+was not butter at all, but a deleterious compound--well, all he would
+have to do would be to go to the shop, accompanied by a guardian of the
+peace, and, standing on one leg, with both hands on the counter and one
+eye shut, order a pound of the butter in certain words prescribed by the
+Act. He would then say to the tradesman, 'I am about to divide this
+pound of butter into three equal portions for the purposes of analysis';
+and, taking the butter-man's knife in his left hand, and passing it to
+his right, would cut the butter into three portions exactly equal.
+
+"After this, hermetically sealing the three portions in three jars
+provided for the purpose, he would hand one jar to the tradesman, the
+second to the guardian of the peace, and retain the third. Then he would
+bring an action; and (provided that all the conditions had been
+accurately fulfilled, without the slightest flaw) the erring tradesman
+would be told by the Court not to do it again; while the complainant
+would have to pay all costs, and possibly a fine; and would be sneered
+at by the magistrate as a fussy idiot and a common informer.
+
+"If, on the other hand, the complainant should omit to secure the
+company of a custodian of the peace, or fail to stand on one leg with
+both hands on the counter, or take the knife in his right hand first, or
+should leave out the prescribed words, or blink his eye, or stammer, or
+sneeze, or in any other way fail to observe the regulations of the Act;
+he would, of course, have no case or remedy. The Adulteration Acts would
+be extremely stringent----"
+
+"Against the victim of adulteration?"
+
+"Ye--es," murmured James, a little nonplussed.
+
+[Illustration: "THE SHOP."]
+
+"Ah--well, then, I think we can afford to ignore these Adulteration
+Acts--like the adulterators and the public authorities would--and
+proceed with the question of the adulteration. I had a most vivid vision
+or dream of the details of this adulteration as they would be carried
+out on your world at the period we are now considering. I imagined that
+I was actually in a part of your world called 'America,' and that one of
+your human beings politely invited me to walk through his factory and
+see how things were made. I think you mentioned 'oysters'----"
+
+[Illustration: "NO CASE."]
+
+"Yes," said James, "that's one name the article of food would possess;
+newspaper writers, however, would not recognise them by that name--they
+would only know them as 'the succulent bivalve.'"
+
+"The very idea!" exclaimed William. "That's exactly what I seemed to
+have become--a newspaper writer. I fancied I went to see the factory,
+and then sent in the following account:--
+
+"One of the most interesting factories in America is the stately
+building of the Ephraim Q. Knickerbocker Natural Products Manufacturing
+Corporation, of Spread Eagle Springs, N.J. That the structure is itself
+an imposing one may well be imagined in view of the vast productive
+energy expended within its walls; and the feebleness and inefficiency of
+the productive operations of Nature are never so fully realized as after
+a visit to this marvellous factory, and a comparison of the two systems.
+
+"It was, therefore, with no little satisfaction that we lately received
+a courteous invitation from the able and energetic managing director
+General Sardanapalus J. Van Biene to inspect the operations of the
+Corporation at its factory. Accordingly, we proceeded to the New York
+terminus of the Natural Products Manufacturing Corporation's New York,
+Sumner Ferry, Thanksgiving Flats, and Spread Eagle Springs Railroad,
+along which a special train speedily whirled us to the front door of the
+works. On the steps stood the genial managing director, supported by the
+principal manager Colonel Exodus V. Rooster, the head chemist Major
+Madison B. Jefferson, and the assistant chemists Judge Vansittart J.
+Sumner and Admiral Hudson W. Killigrew.
+
+"They received us with open arms, and, after entertaining us at a
+_recherché_ lunch, conducted us to the chemistry and analysis section
+occupying a little over seventeen acres and employing a permanent staff
+of thirteen thousand four hundred and thirty-two, assistants, among whom
+are chemists, microscopists, sub-inventors, etc., etc. There it is that
+the productive operations of Nature are studied and improved upon.
+
+"'You must not imagine that we have any kind of sympathy or admiration
+for Nature's system,' explained General S. J. Van Biene, hastening to
+sweep away any false impression which we might have formed.
+
+[Illustration: "THEY RECEIVED US WITH OPEN ARMS."]
+
+"'On the contrary, we just entirely despise her and her ways, and should
+have discarded her way back but for the prejudices of the consuming
+public. It's just like this--the consumers still believe in natural
+products, and so we have to go on reproducing them instead of starting
+right away on our own lines and bringing out new and original
+commodities far in advance of anything Nature can do. How we're
+stultified you'll see as we work through. We just have to copy, anyway,
+in place of originating. We make oysters, for example. Now quite a while
+ago, our head chemist Major Madison B. Jefferson invented a new edible
+way, finer in every essential than the oyster; but the consumers
+wouldn't have it: they shied at it, and declared it wasn't wholesome;
+and we had the whole stock on our hands, and had to vat it down again,
+and recolour it, and make tomatoes of it. Then they took it down and
+just chaired it round. Of course, we have to say we _grow_ the
+products--that's another effect of popular prejudice; if we had said we
+made those tomatoes, the public would have started right off again, and
+talked of "adulteration," although our tomatoes whip Nature's by 50 per
+cent, in all the elements of nutrition and flavour. Just taste this
+one.'
+
+"We hesitated, and the director, perceiving it, promptly consumed
+another from the same case. Thus reassured, we ventured to nibble at the
+artificial vegetable, and found it excellent in every respect--decidedly
+superior to the natural product, as he had stated.
+
+"'But,' we asked, 'do you not suffer considerable losses when these
+products--necessarily perishable in the natural course of things--begin
+to decay?'
+
+[Illustration: "JUST TASTE THIS ONE."]
+
+"'That's just another point where we show our superiority to Nature.
+_Our_ products _don't_ decay; on the contrary, they improve by keeping.
+Here is a tomato seven years old,' he continued, taking down another
+case. 'Try it.'
+
+"We did. The other was not to be compared with it. The older tomato had
+matured and mellowed, the skin having a finer colour and lovelier gloss,
+the flesh possessing a firmer body and more delicate flavour; it was far
+in advance of any tomato we had ever conceived.
+
+"'Wonderful!' we exclaimed.
+
+"'A very simple matter,' said the director. 'All that is required is a
+thorough mastery of chemistry. In all our goods we employ a special
+patent preservative of our own, which is naturally a secret. We
+calculate it to be worth one hundred and fifty quadrillions of dollars.
+
+"'But let us show you how we make oysters! See, these are the tanks
+which contain the mixture--the compound which forms the body of the
+bivalve. This tank contains the beard-mixture; and this one the
+gristle.'
+
+"'And what are the principal ingredients?'
+
+"'Glue, made from horses' heels. This is a very important factor in our
+products. This glue, after undergoing a peculiar treatment which
+prevents its hardening and losing its elasticity in the course of years,
+is flavoured and coloured in various ways. This great tank contains the
+composition for the internal parts of the oyster--nearly black, you
+perceive; that tank over there contains the compound for the flesh that
+covers the internal parts; that tank farther along holds the beard
+mixture; and the one beyond that the gristle which attaches the oyster
+to the shell. First, the flesh of the oyster is run into moulds, each
+oyster being in two parts; then the inside of the animal is run into
+another mould, and the two halves of the body are automatically placed
+around it and cemented together.
+
+"'Meanwhile the beards have been rolled, stamped, frilled, and coloured
+along the edge by special automatic machinery. The body of the oyster
+then passes to the fixing-up room, where the beard is cemented to it by
+hand, and finishing touches of colour added; and then it passes along
+and has the gristle attached: and the oyster itself is complete.'
+
+[Illustration: The Oyster Factory Affixing the Beards.]
+
+"'But it wants a shell!'
+
+"'Just so. As far as the supply will go, we buy up old shells from
+dustyards and use them; but most of them are damaged by previous
+opening, so we make the bulk of our shells, and they're a good deal more
+natural than the real ones. They're made of lime.'
+
+"'All alike?'
+
+"'Not in the least. You see, we have some thousands of moulds, every one
+differing slightly from the rest. There's a special department for
+hingeing the two shells together. We had some trouble to find a
+substance for the hinge; but at last one of our chemists hit on a way of
+subjecting old hide-scraps to a peculiar process, and that did the
+thing. The mother-of-pearl is made of a sort of soft glass, somewhat
+after the appearance of Venetian glass, and put on the shell hot.
+Lastly, the oyster is attached to the shells by its cartilage; a little
+liquor is put in, and the shells are closed up.'
+
+"'But surely people must observe that they are not alive?' we said. 'For
+instance, they can't open their shells!'
+
+"'That's just where you're astray,' replied the General. 'Owing to the
+mechanical action of salt upon the composition of the cartilage, the
+oyster opens when placed in salt water. Iron, however, exercises an
+electro-magnetic influence upon the composition forming the body of the
+bivalve, causing a sudden contraction--so that, on a knife being
+introduced into the shell, the latter closes in the most natural way. We
+manufacture pearls on the premises, and advertise that one oyster in
+every gross taken from our beds contains a pearl of more or less value;
+and there's a greater demand for our oysters than for any others in the
+world. Our oyster beds are way down along the coast, about ten miles
+off; and are inspected by thousands yearly. Taste this egg.'
+
+[Illustration: The Pearl.]
+
+"He took up a fine specimen of a new-laid egg, and proceeded to break it
+into a glass. It was a delightful egg. 'That's our latest pattern of
+egg,' explained the General, 'You perceive that it has three lines
+around it, where the substance of the shell is weaker than elsewhere;
+the lines near each end enable a person about to consume the egg in a
+boiled state to easily cut off the top or bottom with a knife, or run
+his nail around it; while the line about the middle greatly assists
+cooks in breaking it into a basin. There is also a thin spot at either
+end, to facilitate sucking. These eggs are always new-laid; we send tons
+to Europe, particularly to Great Britain, where ours are the only fresh
+eggs they ever get.'
+
+[Illustration: The London Egg]
+
+"'But you must find some difficulty in making an egg?'
+
+"'Just as easy as smiling. The white is simply jelly-fish subjected to a
+chemical process--jelly-fish aren't costly. This tank is full of the
+liquor. The main ingredient of the yolk is the horse-heel glue mentioned
+before; we also boil down vast quantities of rats--they come cheap, too;
+it's only the cost of catching them; and then there's a vegetable
+colouring, and the preservative, and a few other trifles. First, the two
+halves of the white are made in two moulds, and frozen; then the two
+frozen halves are frozen together, and the yolk-mixture poured in
+through a small hole, which is then closed. Then comes the skin; and
+that is the most expensive part, for it contains a certain quantity of
+rubber. We have tried in vain to find a substitute for rubber, but
+failed hitherto. The rubber is mixed with a gum from a South American
+tree, and the mixture is applied with a brush over the frozen egg; and
+then the egg, still frozen, is dipped in a lime composition very nearly
+identical with the oyster-shell mixture; and, lastly, the whole thing is
+passed through the finishing machine, which turns the three thin lines
+and the two thin spots, imitates the pores of the shell, and delivers
+the finished egg to the warehouse.'
+
+"'Marvellous!' we involuntarily exclaimed.
+
+"'Oh, that's nothing at all,' said the director. 'We're meditating
+turning out eggs that will hatch and become fowls. At present we have to
+manufacture fowls; but we calculate to make a great saving by producing
+them from the eggs we make. That building over yonder is the terrapin
+factory; we turn out eleven tons of terrapin weekly. We make clams, of
+course--in the oyster department. In this next house we make kidneys and
+sweetbreads. Fruit? Oh, yes, we turn out masses of fruit; peaches pay
+best, but we do very well with nuts.'
+
+"We were then conducted to the show-room, where we tasted a number of
+other products of the wonderful factory; and we had just said a grateful
+farewell to our courteous guide, when we were seized with pains of the
+most acute description.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: The Pain.]
+
+"The arrangements of the hospital were admirable. The kindliness and
+attention we received made our five years' sojourn there a time to look
+back upon with feelings of gratitude. We are assured that, with strict
+diet and unremitting care, we may last some time yet--possibly even
+three months."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"It was a marvellous vision," said James, fervently, as the voice of
+William ceased. "Surely after that you must think better of those beings
+of mine?"
+
+But William merely sniffed.
+
+                              J. F. SULLIVAN.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A TURNIP RESEMBLING A HUMAN HAND.]
+
+The above photographs represent two views of an extraordinary turnip
+grown by Alderman David Evans, Llangennech Park, Carmarthenshire. We are
+indebted for the photographs to Mr. Morgan W. James, of Llanelly.
+
+
+[Illustration: A ROOM PAPERED WITH STAMPS.]
+
+The above photograph represents the study of Mr. C. Whitfield King, of
+Morpeth House, Ipswich, which he has papered with 44,068 _unused_
+foreign postage stamps, bearing the value of £699 16s. 9d., and
+containing 48 varieties of different sizes and colours, presenting an
+example of mosaic work which is altogether unique of its kind.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: Drinking]
+
+[Illustration: VESSELS OF ALL]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A CROCODILE STORY.]
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue
+27, March 1893, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STRAND MAGAZINE, MARCH 1893 ***
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+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Strand, Volume 5, Issue 27, march, 1893.
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+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30222 ***</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span></p>
+<h2>THE</h2>
+
+<h1>STRAND MAGAZINE</h1>
+
+<h2><i>An Illustrated Monthly</i></h2>
+
+<h3>Vol. 5, Issue. 27.</h3>
+
+<h4>March 1893</h4>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2>Contents</h2>
+
+<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. -->
+<p>
+<a href="#A_GAME_of_CHESS"><b>A Game Of Chess.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#Illustrated_Interviews"><b>Illustrated Interviews: XXI.--Mr. and Mrs. Kendal.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#Author_Author"><b>"Author! Author!"</b></a><br />
+<a href="#Zig_Zags_at_the_Zoo_Conkavian"><b>Zig Zags at the Zoo: Conkavian.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#Shafts_from_an_Eastern_Quiver"><b>Shafts from an Eastern Quiver IX.--Maw-Sayah: The Keeper of the Great Burman.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#From_Behind_the_Speakers_Chair"><b>From Behind the Speaker's Chair III.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#Portraits_of_Celebrities_at_Different_Times_of_their_Lives"><b>Portraits of Celebrities at Different Times of their Lives.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#The_Adventures_of_Sherlock_Holmes"><b>The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes XVI.--The Adventure of the Stockbroker's Clerk.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#Beauties"><b>Beauties.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#Hands"><b>Hands II.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#Illustration_ROSITA"><b>Rosita.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#The_Queer_Side_of_Things"><b>The Queer Side of Things.</b></a><br />
+</p>
+<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. -->
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 320px;">
+<img src="images/image219.jpg" width="320" height="500" alt="&quot;By Heaven,&quot; cried Ruy Lopez, &quot;the Duke shall finish his
+Game!&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;By Heaven,&quot; cried Ruy Lopez, &quot;the Duke shall finish his
+Game!&quot;<br />
+
+(<i>A Game of Chess.</i>)</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;">
+<img src="images/image220.jpg" width="650" height="452" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+<p><a name="A_GAME_of_CHESS" id="A_GAME_of_CHESS"></a></p>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">From the French.</span></h3>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+<p>King Phillip II. was playing at chess in the Escurial Palace. His
+opponent was Ruy Lopez, a humble priest, but a chess player of great
+skill. Being the King's particular favourite, the great player was
+permitted to kneel upon a brocaded cushion, whilst the courtiers grouped
+about the King were forced to remain standing in constrained and painful
+attitudes.</p>
+
+<p>It was a magnificent morning. The air was perfumed with the orange
+groves, and the violet curtains of the splendid hall hardly softened the
+burning rays which streamed in through the windows. The blaze of living
+light seemed scarcely in harmony with the King's gloomy countenance. His
+brow was black as night, and from time to time he bent his eyes
+impatiently upon the door. The nobles stood in silence, darting meaning
+glances at each other. It was easily to be discerned that some event of
+great importance weighed upon the spirits of the assembly. No one paid
+any attention to the chess-board except Ruy Lopez, who, as he moved the
+pieces, hesitated between the temptation of checkmating his opponent and
+the deference due to his King. The silence was unbroken except by the
+sound made by the players moving their pieces.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the door opened, and a man of rude and savage aspect advanced
+into the hall, and, presenting himself before the King, stood waiting
+his commands to speak. This man's appearance was anything but
+prepossessing, and on his entrance the nobles, as if animated with one
+thought, shrank back with contempt and loathing, as if some unclean
+animal had entered into their midst. His massive, herculean figure was
+clad in a doublet of black leather, and his face, in which could be seen
+no trace of intelligence, expressed, on the contrary, nothing but
+vileness and villainy; a great scar, running right across his face and
+losing itself in a bushy beard, added still further to the natural
+brutality of his countenance.</p>
+
+<p>An electric thrill ran through the assembly. The new comer was Fernando
+Calavar, high executioner of Spain.</p>
+
+<p>"Is he dead?" asked the King, in an imperious tone.</p>
+
+<p>"No, sire," replied Calavar, bowing low.</p>
+
+<p>The King frowned.</p>
+
+<p>"Great Sovereign of Spain," Calavar continued, "the prisoner has claimed
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span>his privileges, and I cannot take proceedings against a man whose blood
+belongs to the noblest in Spain, without having a more imperative order
+from your Majesty," and he bowed again.</p>
+
+<p>The nobles, who had listened with great attention to these words, broke
+into a murmur of approbation as the man finished speaking. The proud
+Castilian blood rushed like a stream of lava through their veins, and
+dyed their faces crimson. The manifestation became general. Young Alonza
+D'Ossuna openly asserted his opinion by putting on his plumed cap. His
+bold example was followed by the majority of the nobles, and their lofty
+nodding crests seemed to proclaim with defiance that their masters
+protested in favour of the privilege, which the hidalgos of Spain have
+always enjoyed, of covering their heads before their Sovereign.</p>
+
+<p>The King gave a furious start, and striking his fist violently upon the
+chess-board, scattered the chessmen in all directions.</p>
+
+<p>"He has been judged by our Royal Court of Justice," he cried, "and
+condemned to death. What does the traitor demand?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sire!" replied the executioner, "he asks permission to die upon the
+block, and also to pass the three last hours of his life with a priest."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, that is granted!" replied Philip, in a tone of relief. "Is not our
+confessor in the prison according to our orders?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sire!" said Calavar, "the holy man is there; but the Duke refuses
+to see St. Diaz de Silva. He says he cannot receive absolution from
+anyone below the dignity of a Bishop. Such is the privilege of a noble
+condemned to death for high treason."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, these are our rights!" boldly interrupted the fiery D'Ossuna; "and
+we claim from the King our cousin's privileges."</p>
+
+<p>This demand acted as a signal.</p>
+
+<p>"Our rights and the King's justice are inseparable," cried Don Diego de
+Tarraxas, Count of Valence, an old man of gigantic stature, clothed in
+armour, holding in his hands the b&acirc;ton of Great Constable of Spain, and
+leaning upon his long Toledo blade.</p>
+
+<p>"Our rights and our privileges!" cried the nobles, repeating the words
+like an echo. Their audacity made the King start with fury from his
+ebony throne.</p>
+
+<p>"By the bones of Campeador!" he cried. "By the soul of St. Jago! I have
+sworn neither to eat nor sleep until the bleeding head of Don Gusman
+lies before me. As I have sworn, so shall it be. But Don Tarraxas has
+said well, 'The King's justice confirms his subjects' rights.' My Lord
+Constable, where does the nearest Bishop reside?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sire, I have more to do with camp than with the Church," the Constable
+replied, somewhat abruptly. "Your Majesty's chaplain, Don Silvas, is
+present: he can tell you better than I."</p>
+
+<p>Don Silvas began to speak in trepidation.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image221.jpg" width="450" height="345" alt="&quot;WHAT DOES THE TRAITOR DEMAND?&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;WHAT DOES THE TRAITOR DEMAND?&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Sire," he said, humbly, "the Bishop of Segovia is an official of the
+King, but he who filled the duty died last week, and the parchment which
+names his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> successor is still upon the Council table, and is yet to be
+submitted to the Pope's seal."</p>
+
+<p>At these words a joyous smile hovered about D'Ossuna's lips. This joy
+was but natural, for the young man was of the blood of the Gusmans, and
+his cousin, the condemned prisoner, was his dearest friend. The King
+perceived the smile, and his eye shot forth lightning.</p>
+
+<p>"We are the King!" he said, gravely, with the calm which presages a
+storm; "our Royal person must be no butt for raillery. This sceptre
+appears light, my lords, but he who ridicules it shall be crushed
+thereby as with a block of iron. I believe that our holy father the Pope
+is somewhat indebted to us, so that we do not fear his displeasure at
+the step which we are about to take. Since the King of Spain can make a
+Prince, he can also make a Bishop. Rise, then, Don Ruy Lopez. I create
+you Bishop of Segovia. Rise, I command you, and take your rank in the
+Church."</p>
+
+<p>The courtiers stood dumfounded.</p>
+
+<p>Don Ruy Lopez rose mechanically. His head was whirling, and he stammered
+as he strove to speak.</p>
+
+<p>"If your Majesty pleases&mdash;&mdash;" he began.</p>
+
+<p>"Silence, my Lord Bishop!" replied the King. "Obey your Sovereign. The
+formalities of your installation shall be performed another day; our
+subjects will not fail to acknowledge our wishes in this affair. Bishop
+of Segovia, go with Calavar to the condemned man's cell. Give absolution
+to his soul, and in three hours leave his body to the executioner's axe.
+As for you, Calavar, I will await you here; you will bring us the
+traitor's head. Let justice be accomplished."</p>
+
+<p>Then Philip turned to Ruy Lopez.</p>
+
+<p>"I give you my signet ring," he said, "to show the Duke as a token of
+the truth of your story."</p>
+
+<p>The executioner left the chamber, followed by Ruy Lopez.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, gentlemen," said the King, turning to the others, "do you still
+doubt the King's justice?"</p>
+
+<p>But the nobles answered not a word.</p>
+
+<p>The King, having taken his seat, made a sign to one of his favourites to
+place himself before the chess-board, and Don Ramirez, Count of Biscay,
+accordingly knelt down upon the velvet cushion.</p>
+
+<p>"With a game of chess, gentlemen," said the King, smiling, "and your
+company, I cannot fail to make the time pass agreeably. Let no one leave
+the chamber until Calavar's return. We cannot spare a single one of
+you."</p>
+
+<p>With these ironical words, Philip commenced a game with Don Ramirez,
+whilst the nobles, almost dropping with fatigue, resumed the positions
+about their august master which they had occupied at the beginning of
+this story.</p>
+
+
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+<p>Calavar, leading the way, conducted the new Bishop to the condemned
+man's cell. Ruy Lopez walked like one in a dream. Was he awake, or not?
+He hardly knew. At the bottom of his heart he cursed the King and his
+Court. He understood perfectly that he had become Bishop of Segovia, but
+he felt deeply at what a price he had bought his dignity. What had Don
+Gusman done that he should be thus sacrificed? Don Gusman, the best
+chess player in Spain! He thought of all this as he proceeded over the
+marble flags which led to the State prison, and as he thought he prayed
+that the ground would open and swallow him up.</p>
+
+<p>Don Gusman was pacing impatiently up and down his narrow cell with a
+hurried step that betrayed the feverish anxiety of his mind. The cell
+was furnished with a massive table and two heavy wooden stools, the
+floor being covered with coarse, thick mats. Shut out from all the
+noises of the outer world, here silence reigned supreme. A crucifix,
+roughly carved, was fixed to the wall in the niche of a high window,
+which was carefully barred with iron. Except for this image of
+resignation and mercy, the walls were bare. Well might this dungeon
+serve as antechamber to the tomb.</p>
+
+<p>As Ruy Lopez entered the cell a sudden burst of sunshine flooded the
+walls as if in bitter mockery of him who was soon to see it no more.</p>
+
+<p>The Duke saluted the new Bishop with great courtesy. They regarded each
+other, and exchanged in that look a thousand words which they alone
+could understand. Ruy Lopez felt the painfulness of his position deeply,
+and the Duke understood his embarrassment. Their thoughts were both the
+same, that in the condemnation of one of the principal favourites of the
+King an innocent life was threatened! The proofs of the crime imputed to
+the Duke were grave; the most important being a despatch written in Don
+Gusman's hand to the French Court, in which he unfolded a scheme for
+assassinating Philip II. This had sufficed to condemn him.</p>
+
+<p>Don Gusman, strong in his innocence, had kept a rigorous silence when
+brought before<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> his judges, and the accusation not being denied,
+sentence of death was passed upon him. Don Gusman since his
+incarceration had not altered. He had braved the storm, and looked upon
+death with an unmoved countenance. His last hours had no terrors for
+him. If his forehead was overshadowed, if his steps were agitated and
+his breathing hurried, it was because there rose before his eye the
+image of his betrothed, Dona Estella, who, ignorant of her lover's fate,
+was waiting for him in her battlemented castle on the banks of the
+Guadalquiver. If he felt weak at this fatal moment, and if a pang shot
+through his heart, it was because his thoughts were of her who was to
+him the dearest thing in all the world.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 359px;">
+<img src="images/image223.jpg" width="359" height="450" alt="&quot;RUY LOPEZ ENTERED THE CELL.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;RUY LOPEZ ENTERED THE CELL.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Ruy Lopez had not entered alone. Calavar was at his side; and it was he
+who announced to the Duke the King's decision and reply. Ruy Lopez
+confirmed the executioner's words, and the Duke, falling on his knees
+before the new Bishop, asked his blessing, then turning to Calavar with
+a gesture of authority, he dismissed him, saying:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"In three hours I shall be at your disposal."</p>
+
+<p>Calavar obeyed him and went out, and the Duke and Bishop were left
+alone.</p>
+
+<p>Ruy Lopez was trembling with nervousness, whilst Don Gusman's face wore
+a calm and serene expression. He took the Bishop's hand, and wrung it
+warmly. There was a pause. The Duke was the first to break the silence.</p>
+
+<p>"We have met before in happier circumstances," he said, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>"It is true," stammered Ruy Lopez, who, pale and agitated, resembled
+rather the penitent than the confessor.</p>
+
+<p>"Much happier," repeated the Duke, absently. "Do you remember, when you
+played your celebrated game of chess with Paoli Boy, the Sicilian, in
+the presence of the King and Court, that it was upon my right arm that
+the King leant?" Then after a pause he continued: "Do you remember also,
+father, those words of Cervantes, 'Life is a game of chess?' I have
+forgotten the exact place in which the passage occurs, but its meaning
+is, that upon earth men play different r&ocirc;les. There are, as in chess,
+kings, knights, soldiers, bishops, according to their birth, fate and
+fortune; and when the game is over death lays them all as equals in the
+tomb, even as we gather together the chessmen into a box."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I remember those words of Don Quixote," replied Don Lopez,
+astonished at this singular conversation, "and I remember also Sancho's
+reply: 'That however good the comparison was, it was not so new that he
+had not heard it before.'"</p>
+
+<p>"I was your favourite pupil, even your rival," said the Duke, without
+appearing to hear Don Lopez.</p>
+
+<p>"It is true," cried the Bishop. "You are a great master of the game, and
+I have been often proud of having such a pupil. But now, on your knees,
+my son."</p>
+
+<p>They knelt down together, and there before the crucifix Don Gusman made
+confession to Ruy Lopez, who as he listened could hardly restrain his
+tears.</p>
+
+<p>When the Duke had finished, two hours after&mdash;for the confession under
+the Church seal was long and touching&mdash;the Bishop<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> blessed the prisoner,
+and gave him absolution. The face of Don Gusman, as he rose, was calm
+and resigned.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 327px;">
+<img src="images/image224.jpg" width="327" height="500" alt="&quot;THEY KNELT DOWN TOGETHER.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THEY KNELT DOWN TOGETHER.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>But there remained still an hour to wait.</p>
+
+<p>"This delay is torture," cried the Duke. "Why do they not cut off the
+prisoners at once, instead of stretching their souls upon such a rack of
+agony? An eternity of suffering is in each of these minutes." And the
+prisoner began to walk impatiently to and fro, with his eyes constantly
+bent upon the door. The Duke's firmness was shaken by the thought of
+that weary hour of waiting. Ruy Lopez had fulfilled his duty. The
+prisoner's soul was purified, and now the priest could become the
+friend.</p>
+
+<p>As Don Lopez heard Don Gusman utter this exclamation, and saw his face
+grow white, he understood what agony he was undergoing, and felt at once
+that something must be done to divert his thoughts. But in vain he
+racked his brain for an idea. He could think of nothing. What could he
+propose to a man about to die? For such as he, the flower has no longer
+perfume, woman has no longer beauty. Then suddenly a thought flashed
+across his brain.</p>
+
+<p>"How would a game of chess&mdash;" he began, timidly.</p>
+
+<p>"An excellent idea!" cried Don Gusman, recalled to himself by this
+singular proposal. "A farewell game of chess."</p>
+
+<p>"You consent?"</p>
+
+<p>"Most readily; but where are the chessmen, my friend?"</p>
+
+<p>"Am I not always provided with the instruments of war?" said Ruy Lopez,
+smiling. Then he pulled forward the two stools and set out upon the
+table a microscopic set of chessmen. "Our Lady pardon me!" he continued.
+"I often pass my spare time in the confessional in working out some
+problem."</p>
+
+<p>The chessmen being set out, the players took their seats, and were soon
+absorbed in the excitement of the game.</p>
+
+<p>This strange contest, between a priest and a condemned prisoner, made a
+picture worthy of the brush of Rembrandt or Salvator Rosa. The light
+which streamed from the arched windows fell upon the pale, noble
+features of Don Gusman, and upon the venerable head of Ruy Lopez.</p>
+
+<p>The emotions of the two players were very different. Ruy Lopez played
+with a preoccupation which was not usual to him, and which rendered him
+much inferior to his ordinary strength. Don Gusman, on the contrary,
+stimulated by excitement, played with more than his ordinary skill. At
+this moment his noble Castilian blood did not fail him, for never had
+the Duke given better proof of the clearness of his mind. Such a flash
+of intellect must be compared to the last flickers of the failing lamp,
+or to the last song of the dying swan.</p>
+
+<p>Don Gusman suddenly attacked his adversary with an impetuosity which
+nearly gained him a certain victory; but Ruy Lopez, recalled to himself
+by this vigorous effort, defended himself bravely. The game became more
+and more complicated. The Bishop strove to gain a mate which he saw, or
+believed he saw, at hand, whilst Don Gusman played with the eagerness of
+certain victory. Everything was forgotten, and time passed unnoticed.
+The chess-board was their universe, and a life of anxiety was in each
+move.</p>
+
+<p>The minutes, the quarters, the half-hours flew by, and the fatal hour
+arrived at last.</p>
+
+<p>A distant sound struck on their ears; it grew nearer, it increased, and
+the door swinging<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> open gave admittance to Calavar and his assistants,
+who advanced into the cell with torches in their hands. They were armed
+with swords, and two of them bore the block, covered with a black cloth,
+on which lay an axe.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image225.jpg" width="500" height="364" alt="&quot;THE GAME BECAME MORE AND MORE COMPLICATED.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THE GAME BECAME MORE AND MORE COMPLICATED.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The torches were placed in the receptacle prepared for them, whilst one
+of the men scattered cedar sawdust on the floor. All this was the work
+of a moment, while the executioner stood waiting for the prisoner.</p>
+
+<p>As Calavar entered, Ruy Lopez started to his feet, in a tremor of alarm,
+but the Duke did not move. His eyes were fixed upon the chess-board. It
+was his turn to play. Calavar, seeing his abstracted gaze, advanced to
+the Duke's side and placed his hand upon his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Come," he said.</p>
+
+<p>The prisoner shuddered as if he had trodden upon a serpent.</p>
+
+<p>"I must finish this game," he said, imperiously.</p>
+
+<p>"It is impossible," Calavar replied.</p>
+
+<p>"But, fellow, the game is mine! I can force mate in a few moves. Let me
+play it out."</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot. It is impossible," repeated the executioner.</p>
+
+<p>"Are the three hours gone already?"</p>
+
+<p>"The last stroke has just struck. We must obey the King."</p>
+
+<p>The assistants, who had until then stood leaning on their swords, came
+forward at these words.</p>
+
+<p>The Duke was sitting against the wall, under the high window, with the
+table between him and Calavar. He started to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall not move until the game is over. In half an hour my head shall
+be at your disposal."</p>
+
+<p>"My lord," replied Calavar, "I respect you deeply, but I cannot grant
+you this request. I answer for your life with mine."</p>
+
+<p>Don Gusman made a gesture of impatience, and pulling off his diamond
+rings, he threw them at the executioner's feet. "I mean to finish the
+game," he said, carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>The jewels sparkled as they rolled and settled in the dust.</p>
+
+<p>"My orders are imperative," cried Calavar, "and you must pardon us,
+noble Duke, if we have to use force; but the King's orders and the law
+of Spain must be carried out. Obey, then, and do not waste your last
+moments in a useless struggle. Speak to the Duke, my lord Bishop. Tell
+him to submit to his fate."</p>
+
+<p>Ruy Lopez's reply was as prompt as it was decisive. He seized the axe
+which lay upon the block and swung it with both hands above his head.</p>
+
+<p>"By Heaven!" he cried, "the Duke <i>shall</i> finish his game!"</p>
+
+<p>Scared by the gesture which accompanied these words, Calavar drew back
+in such a fright that he stumbled and fell back on his companions. The
+swords flashed from their scabbards, and the band prepared for attack.
+But Ruy Lopez, who appeared to have put forth the strength of a
+Hercules, cast upon the ground his heavy wooden stool.</p>
+
+<p>"The first of you who passes this limit dies!" he cried in a loud voice.
+"Courage, Duke!&mdash;to the attack! There are only four of these miscreants.
+The last desire of your Grace shall be gratified, were I to lose my life
+in the attempt. And you, wretched man, beware how you lay a finger upon
+a Bishop of the Church. Down with your swords and respect the Lord's
+anointed!" And Ruy Lopez continued to hurl forth, in a jargon of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span>
+Spanish and Latin, one of those formulas of excommunication and
+malediction which at that period acted so strongly upon the masses of
+the people.</p>
+
+<p>The effect was prompt. The men stood rooted to the spot with terror,
+whilst Calavar, thinking that to kill a Bishop without a sealed order
+from the King was to run the risk of putting his life in jeopardy in
+this world and his soul in the next, avowed himself vanquished. He knew
+not what to do next. To rush with the news to the King, who was waiting
+impatiently for Don Gusman's head, was only to expose himself. To attack
+the prisoner and the priest would be too hazardous, for Ruy Lopez was a
+man of no mean strength. The position of affairs was critical. At last
+he decided to take the easiest way out of the difficulty&mdash;to wait.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you promise me faithfully to give yourself up in half an hour?" he
+demanded of Don Gusman.</p>
+
+<p>"I promise," replied the Duke.</p>
+
+<p>"Play on, then," said the executioner.</p>
+
+<p>The truce being thus concluded, the players returned to their seats and
+their game, whilst Calavar and his companions, forming themselves into a
+circle, stationed themselves round the two players. Calavar, who was
+himself a chess player, looked on with interest, and could not prevent
+himself from involuntarily considering each move the players made.</p>
+
+<p>Don Gusman looked up for an instant upon the circle of faces which
+surrounded him, but his <i>sang froid</i> did not abandon him.</p>
+
+<p>"Never have I played in the presence of such a noble company!" he cried.
+"Bear witness, rascals, that at least once in my life I have beaten Don
+Lopez." Then he returned to the game with a smile upon his lips. The
+Bishop gripped the handle of the axe which he still held in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"If I were only sure of escaping from this tigers' den," he thought, "I
+would break every head of the four of them."</p>
+
+
+<h4>III.</h4>
+
+<p>If three hours had dragged in the prisoner's cell, they had not passed
+more quickly in the Royal chamber of King Philip.</p>
+
+<p>The King had finished his game with Don Ramirez de Biscay, and the
+nobles, still compelled from etiquette to remain standing, appeared
+almost ready to drop with fatigue, rendered still more painful from the
+weight of their armour.</p>
+
+<p>Don Tarraxas stood motionless, with closed eyes like one of those iron
+figures which ornamented the castles of the savage Goths. Young
+D'Ossuna, with drooping head, stood propped against a marble pillar,
+whilst King Philip strode impatiently about the apartment, only stopping
+at intervals to listen to some imaginary noise. According to the
+superstitious custom of the age, the King knelt for a few moments at the
+foot of a figure of the Virgin placed upon a porphyry pedestal to pray
+the Madonna to pardon him the deed of blood which was about to take
+place. Silence reigned, for no one, whatever his rank might be, dared to
+speak before his Sovereign without his commands.</p>
+
+<p>As the King's eyes saw the last grain of sand fall in the hour-glass he
+uttered an exclamation of joy.</p>
+
+<p>"The traitor dies!" he cried.</p>
+
+<p>An almost inaudible murmur ran through the assembly.</p>
+
+<p>"The hour is passed, Count of Biscay," said Philip, turning to Don
+Ramirez, "and with it your enemy."</p>
+
+<p>"My enemy, sire?" asked Ramirez, affecting surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Why do you repeat my words, Count?" replied the King. "Were you not a
+rival to Don Gusman in the affections of Dona Estella, and can rivals be
+friends? Dona Estella shall be yours. This young girl will bring you her
+beauty and her fortune. I have not spoken of this to our Council, but my
+Royal word is pledged. If the ingratitude of Sovereigns is ever spoken
+of before you, Count, you will be able to reply that we did not forget
+the true friend of the King and of Spain who discovered the plot and the
+correspondence of Don Gusman with France."</p>
+
+<p>Don Ramirez de Biscay seemed to listen to the King with uneasiness. He
+kept his eyes fixed upon the ground, as if he disliked to be thus
+praised in public. Then he made an effort to reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Sire!" he said, "it was with great repugnance that I fulfilled such a
+painful duty"&mdash;he hesitated, and then was silent.</p>
+
+<p>Tarraxas gave a slight start, whilst D'Ossuna struck sharply the pommel
+of his sword with his iron glove.</p>
+
+<p>"Before Dona Estella shall belong to this man," thought D'Ossuna, "I
+will have vengeance or perish in the attempt. Tomorrow shall be the day
+of my revenge."</p>
+
+<p>The King continued:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Your zeal, Don Ramirez, and your devotion must be rewarded. The saviour
+of our throne, and perhaps of our dynasty, merits a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> particular gift.
+This morning I ordered you to make out some <i>lettres-patentes</i>, which
+confer upon you the rank of Duke and Governor of Valence. Are these
+ready to be signed?"</p>
+
+<p>Don Ramirez grew pale with pleasure. He shook like an aspen and his eyes
+grew dim. But the King made an impatient movement, and the Count,
+drawing a roll of parchment hastily from his breast, presented it on his
+knees to the King.</p>
+
+<p>"My first public duty to-day shall be to sign these papers," said the
+King. "The executioner has already punished treason; it is now time for
+the King to recompense fidelity."</p>
+
+<p>The King unrolled the parchment and began to read. As he read, his face
+became convulsed with fury, and his eyes shot forth flames of wrath.</p>
+
+<p>"By my father's soul!" he shouted; "what do I behold?"</p>
+
+
+<h4>IV.</h4>
+
+<p>The game of chess was finished. Don Gusman had beaten Ruy Lopez, and his
+triumph was complete. He rose to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"I am now, as ever, ready to obey the wishes of my King," he said to
+Calavar.</p>
+
+<p>The executioner understood him, and began to prepare the block. Whilst
+this was being done Don Gusman advanced towards the crucifix, and said
+in a firm voice:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Heaven! may this unjust and rash act which is about to take place
+fall upon the head of him who is the instigator of this treachery; but
+let not my blood recoil upon the head of my King."</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 337px;">
+<img src="images/image227.jpg" width="337" height="500" alt="&quot;WHAT DO I BEHOLD?&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;WHAT DO I BEHOLD?&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Ruy Lopez, crouching in a corner of the cell, and burying his face in
+his mantle, began to recite the prayers for the dying.</p>
+
+<p>Calavar approached Don Gusman, and putting his hand upon the Duke's
+shoulder began to loosen his ruff. Don Gusman shrank back from the
+contact.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing that belongs to you, except this axe, shall touch a Gusman," he
+said, taking off his ruff himself and placing his head upon the block.
+"Strike!" he added, "I am ready!"</p>
+
+<p>The executioner raised the axe&mdash;the King's justice was at last to be
+satisfied, when shouts, rapid footsteps and confused voices arrested the
+sweep of the executioner's arm.</p>
+
+<p>The door gave way under the united efforts of a troop of armed men, and
+D'Ossuna, rushing into the cell, threw himself between the executioner
+and his victim. He was just in time.</p>
+
+<p>"He lives!" cried Tarraxas.</p>
+
+<p>"He is saved!" repeated D'Ossuna. "My beloved cousin, I never hoped to
+have seen you alive again. God in His mercy has not let the innocent
+perish for the guilty. God be praised!"</p>
+
+<p>"God be praised!" echoed all the spectators, and louder than the rest
+rang out the voice of Ruy Lopez.</p>
+
+<p>"You have arrived in time, my friend," said Don Gusman to his cousin;
+"but now I shall have no longer strength to die," and he sank back
+fainting on the block. The shock had been too much for him.</p>
+
+<p>Ruy Lopez seized the Duke in his arms, and, followed by all the nobles,
+bore him along the passages to the King's apartment. When Don Gusman
+opened his eyes he found himself in the midst of a circle of his
+friends, amongst which stood<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> the King, looking down upon him with an
+expression of joy.</p>
+
+<p>Don Gusman could hardly believe his senses. From the axe and the block
+he had passed to the King's apartment. He did not understand why this
+change had taken place. He did not know that Don Ramirez, in giving his
+<i>lettres-patentes</i> to the King to sign, had, in his agitation, given him
+instead a paper containing a plot in which he schemed to get rid for
+ever of Don Gusman, a detested rival, and one of the firmest supporters
+of the throne. He was ignorant of all that had passed, and did not know
+how he had escaped from the clutches of the executioner. It was some
+time before everything could be made clear to him.</p>
+
+<p>Three days afterwards, at the same hour as Gusman's miraculous delivery,
+Calavar beheaded Don Ramirez, Count of Biscay, traitor and false
+witness. Don Gusman was overwhelmed with congratulations on all sides.
+King Philip grasped him cordially by his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Gusman," he said, "I have been very unjust. I can never forgive my
+folly."</p>
+
+<p>"Sire," replied the Duke, "let us speak of it no more. Such words spoken
+by my King are worth a thousand lives."</p>
+
+<p>But the King continued.</p>
+
+<p>"I desire," he said, "that henceforth, in commemoration of your almost
+miraculous deliverance, you carry upon your escutcheon a silver axe
+emblazoned on an azure chess-board. This month we shall celebrate your
+marriage with Dona Estella. The marriage shall take place in our
+Escurial Palace."</p>
+
+<p>Then he added, turning to Ruy Lopez:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I believe that the Church will possess a good servant in its new
+Bishop. You shall be consecrated Lord Prelate, with a scarlet robe,
+enriched with diamonds; that will be the recompense of your game of
+chess with Don Gusman."</p>
+
+<p>"Sire," replied Don Lopez, "never before this day have I been satisfied
+to be checkmated."</p>
+
+<p>The King smiled, and the courtiers followed his example.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, my lords," continued Philip, "we invite you all to our Royal
+banquet. Let Don Gusman's seat be placed upon our right, and the Bishop
+of Segovia's on our left. Give me your arm, Don Gusman."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 407px;">
+<img src="images/image228.jpg" width="407" height="450" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Illustrated_Interviews" id="Illustrated_Interviews"></a>Illustrated Interviews</h2>
+
+<h3>XXL&mdash;MR. AND MRS. KENDAL.</h3>
+
+
+<p>If one had waited for a few months, "The Kendals" would have been
+getting settled in their new home in Portland Place. But, then, the
+happiest associations are always centred around the old, and the
+pleasantest and frequently the dearest recollections are gathered about
+the familiar. That is why I went to them once more to their home of many
+years at 145, Harley Street.</p>
+
+<p>It would be difficult to realize a woman of more striking
+characteristics than she who was for so many years known as "Madge"
+Robertson, and notwithstanding a very important visit one morning in
+August twenty-three years ago to St. Saviour's, Plymouth Grove,
+Manchester, when she became the wife of Mr. William Hunter Grimston,
+there are many who still know and speak of her by her happily-remembered
+maiden name. From that day husband and wife have never played
+apart&mdash;they have remained sweethearts on the stage and lovers in their
+own home. At night&mdash;the footlights; by day&mdash;home and children. Mrs.
+Kendal assured me that neither her eldest daughter, Margaret, nor Ethel,
+nor Dorothy&mdash;the youngest&mdash;nor "Dorrie," who is now at Cambridge, nor
+Harold, a "Marlborough" boy, would ever go on the stage. Home, husband,
+and children&mdash;home, wife, and children, are the embodiment of the life
+led by the Kendals.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/image229.jpg" width="550" height="411" alt="THE DRAWING-ROOM" title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE DRAWING-ROOM<br />
+
+<i>From a Photo by Elliott &amp; Fry.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Together with Mr. Kendal we sat down in the drawing-room, and were
+joined for a moment by Miss Grimston, a quiet, unaffected young girl,
+who looked as though she could never rid herself of a smile, either in
+her eyes or about her mouth&mdash;a young maiden who suggested "sunshine."
+She was carrying Victoria, a pet dog. The mother's whole thoughts seemed
+to go out to her daughter.</p>
+
+<p>"Our Jubilee dog," she cried. "I bought her on Jubilee Day, and,
+curiously enough, Mr. Kendal bought one too, neither of us telling the
+other we were going to make such canine purchases."</p>
+
+<p>Then, when Miss Grimston had left the room, her mother turned to me
+quietly, and said:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"The image of my brother Tom. The same hair, the same expression of
+eyes, the same kind and loving ways. I think he lives in my girl. Come
+with me and you shall see his portrait."</p>
+
+<p>It hung in Miss Grimston's boudoir&mdash;an apartment the walls of which were
+decorated with pictures of the Com&eacute;die-Fran&ccedil;aise<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> Company, the original
+designs for the dresses in "A Wife's Secret"; while over the
+mantel-board are Mr. and Mrs. Kendal in "The Ironmaster," and many
+family portraits are about.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image230.jpg" width="500" height="373" alt="MISS GRIMSTON&#39;S BOUDOIR." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MISS GRIMSTON&#39;S BOUDOIR.<br />
+
+<i>From a Photo by Elliott &amp; Fry.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"It is so amusing to hear people talk and write about my eldest brother
+Tom and me playing together as children," she said. "My mother was
+married when she was eighteen, and my brother was born when she was
+nineteen; I was born when she was forty-eight, and was her twenty-second
+child! So my brother was a grown man with a moustache when I knew him. I
+was brought up with his two children&mdash;little Tom and Maude, my own
+nephew and niece."</p>
+
+<p>What a delightful story it was! Little Madge Robertson used to dress up
+as a policeman and take Maude into custody before Tom, the younger, as
+the judge. And this was the trial:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"What is the prisoner charged with, constable?" asked the judge.</p>
+
+<p>"Murder, my lord," replied the representative of law and order.</p>
+
+<p>"Prisoner, are you guilty?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my lord," answered the poor prisoner.</p>
+
+<p>"Prisoner, have you anything to say why sentence should not be passed
+upon you according to law?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my lord. <i>I'm the daughter of the author of 'Caste'.</i>"</p>
+
+<p>The prisoner always got off, and dear old William Robertson would watch
+this little scene and roar with laughter.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Mrs. Kendal said quietly, as we again looked at "Tom's" picture,
+"my brother was kindness itself, even from his infancy. I remember
+hearing how, when he was a very small boy and living with his aunt, he
+went out one summer's day with a new velvet jacket on. He caught sight
+of a poor little beggar child his own size, who was in tatters, and,
+beckoning him across, at once divested himself of his new coat, put it
+on the wondering youngster, and ran away home as fast as he could. His
+aunt questioned him, and upon finding out the true circumstances of the
+case, and not wishing to damp the kind spirit in the little fellow's
+heart, said:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"'Well, we'll go and try to find the boy you gave it to, and buy your
+jacket back.'</p>
+
+<p>"Fortunately the search was successful, and the coat was bought back for
+no less a sum than half-a-sovereign.</p>
+
+<p>"And in later years it was just the same with Tom. He could never pass
+by a common cookshop, in front of the windows of which was often a crowd
+of men, women, and children, looking on with longing eyes, without
+getting them inside and giving them a fill to their hearts' content.
+When out driving it was no different. He would stop the horse, and have
+all the watching hungry ones inside, and the next moment they would be
+revelling in the satisfying properties of thick slices of plum-pudding
+and roast beef."</p>
+
+<p>The house throughout is most artistic. Mr. Kendal is a painter of great
+merit, and he "knows" a picture as soon as he sees it. Pictures are his
+hobby; hence there is not a room in the house&mdash;even to the
+kitchen&mdash;which does not find a place for some canvas, etching, or
+engraving. The entrance-hall is at once striking, with its quaint
+thirteenth century furniture, bronzes, and Venetian ware. There are some
+fine engravings of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> Miss Brunton&mdash;who became Countess of Craven&mdash;Kemble,
+Garrick, Phelps, and Mrs. Siddons. A picture of Mrs. Kendal in "The
+Falcon" was done at the express wish of, and paid for by, the late Poet
+Laureate. Tennyson said it reminded him of a woman he liked and admired.
+In the shadow is a fine bust of Macready, given by the great actor to
+the father of Mrs. Kendal; resting against the fireplace on either side
+are the two lances used in "The Queen's Shilling," and close by are two
+huge masks representing a couple of very hirsute individuals. They came
+from California, and represent "The King of the Devils" and "The King of
+the Winds."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/image231-1.jpg" width="550" height="422" alt="THE HALL. (From a Photo, by Elliott &amp; Fry.)" title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE HALL. (<i>From a Photo, by Elliott &amp; Fry.</i>)</span>
+</div><p><br /><br /></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 539px;">
+<img src="images/image231-2.jpg" width="539" height="400" alt="THE DINING ROOM. (From a Photo, by Elliott &amp; Fry.)" title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE DINING ROOM. (<i>From a Photo, by Elliott &amp; Fry.</i>)</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The entrance to the dining-room is typical of all the other door
+decoration in the house&mdash;a carving of cream enamel of beautiful design
+and workmanship. The walls of this apartment are terra-cotta, with a
+finely carved oak-panelling. It is a little treasure room of canvases,
+the gem of which is probably C. Van Hannen's "Mask Shop in Venice"&mdash;a
+painter of a school which Luke Fildes, R.A., has done so much to
+popularize. Macbeth is represented by a couple of delightful efforts,
+and there are samples of the skill of Eugene Du Blas, Crofts, John Reid,
+Andriotti, Sadler, De Haas, Rivers; a grand landscape by Webb&mdash;nearly
+all of which are Academy works. The decorative articles are as artistic
+as in some cases they are peculiar. Running about above the oaken
+fireplace, amongst choice bronzes and blue ware, and a black boy who is
+trudging along with a very useful clock on his back, are many quaint
+animals of polished brass&mdash;even mice are not missing, with wonderfully
+long tails&mdash;that sparkle and glisten in the firelight. Ascending the
+staircase you find etchings<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> after Alma Tadema, Briton Riviere, and
+others; the walls are covered with them.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/image232.jpg" width="550" height="364" alt="SCENE FROM &quot;THE SQUIRE.&quot; From the Picture by Mr.
+Kendal." title="" />
+<span class="caption">SCENE FROM &quot;THE SQUIRE.&quot; <i>From the Picture by Mr.
+Kendal.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Here are a series of delightful pictures showing Mr. and Mrs. Kendal in
+Gilbert's "Sweethearts," and I am reminded that the gifted actor and
+actress were the first to appear before the Queen after a period of
+five-and-twenty years, during which Her Majesty had never seen a play,
+the performance that night consisting of "Sweethearts" and Theyre
+Smith's "Uncle's Will." And as one takes note of many rare works&mdash;the
+bedroom is almost entirely given up to Dor&eacute;'s marvellous creations,
+though near the window is a splendid specimen of the photographer's art:
+a head of Miss Mary Anderson&mdash;one cannot fail to observe the family
+spirit everywhere&mdash;sometimes portraits of children, sometimes small and
+dainty pencil studies made of them by their father. Occasionally
+theatrical sketches by Mr. Kendal appear. Here are some of the principal
+members of the old St. James's Company, who used to give Mr. Kendal
+sittings between the acts&mdash;here a capital bit of artistic work depicting
+a scene from "The Squire," made from stray memorandums and with the aid
+of a looking-glass for securing the actor-artist's face.</p>
+
+<p>Leaving Mr. Kendal for a time, Mrs. Kendal and I returned to the
+drawing-room. It overlooks Harley Street and is a handsome two-roomed
+apartment, the prevailing tone of blue, cream, and gold harmonizing to
+perfection. It is positively one huge collection of curios.</p>
+
+<p>The screen at the far end is rather shuddery, not to say creepy, to
+those of nervous temperament. It is decorated with tomahawks of fearful
+and wonderful shapes and sizes, and other Indian implements of warfare.</p>
+
+<p>"These came from California," Mrs. Kendal explained. "No sooner are you
+out of the train than the Indians tomahawk you! Look at this bow and
+arrow."</p>
+
+<p>The pots of palms and ferns all hold American flags. These colours&mdash;the
+stars and stripes&mdash;once surmounted baskets of flowers and floral
+emblems&mdash;five, six, and even seven feet high&mdash;handed to Mrs. Kendal
+during her recent tour in the States; and amongst the sweetly-perfumed
+blossoms diamonds, pearls, and other precious gems have glistened in the
+shape of ornaments. A table near the window tells you of the generosity
+of the Americans. It is crowded with silver ornaments and mementos. You
+may handle the diminutive silver candlesticks to light "The Kendals"
+away&mdash;silver jugs, souvenir spoons, frying-pans, coffee-pots&mdash;all in
+miniature. This silver dollar is only one of a hundred. You touch a
+spring, when, lo and behold! the portrait of the donor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> appears. All
+American women have dainty feet. These little ebony and silver lasts for
+your boots remind you of this. On this table is a letter from the
+Princess of Wales, thanking Mrs. Kendal for "the lovely silver wedding
+bells and flowers which you so kindly sent me on the tenth." You may
+examine George IV.'s cigar-case&mdash;a silver tube in which the King was
+wont to carry a single cigar. It is impossible to number all the
+treasured odds and ends, but still more difficult to total up the
+miniature articles set out in a pair of cabinets.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image233-1.jpg" width="450" height="294" alt="NAPOLEON&#39;S WRITING-TABLE From a Photo by Elliott &amp;
+Fry." title="" />
+<span class="caption">NAPOLEON&#39;S WRITING-TABLE <i>From a Photo by Elliott &amp;
+Fry.</i></span>
+</div>
+<p><br /><br /></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/image233-2.jpg" width="550" height="382" alt="&quot;SHAKESPEARE AND BACON&quot; From the Picture by A. E.
+Emslie." title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;SHAKESPEARE AND BACON&quot; <i>From the Picture by A. E.
+Emslie.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Mrs. Kendal has a hobby&mdash;it lies in the collecting of the tiniest of
+tiny things. If her intimate friends come across any curiosity
+particularly choice and small, it is at once snapped up and dispatched
+to Harley Street. I had some little leaden mice in my hand the size of
+half-a-dozen pins' heads. Handkerchiefs an inch square, babies' woollen
+shoes, pinafores, shirts, all of the tiniest, but perfectly made, with
+buttons and button-holes complete, and even buns with currants no bigger
+than a pin's point. Sheep, dogs, cats, monkeys, pigs, giraffes&mdash;in
+short, convert the entire Zoo into miniature china knick-knacks, and you
+have a considerable portion of Mrs. Kendal's collection realized. One
+must needs stand for a moment at Napoleon's writing-table, near which
+rests a characteristic clay by Van Beers. The pictures here are many.
+Millais' work is well represented by several etchings, and a remarkably
+clever thing by Emslie, entitled "Shakespeare and Bacon," suggests the
+two extremes of taste to a nicety. Whilst a young enthusiast is
+declaiming Shakespeare, one of his listeners&mdash;doubtless, equally
+enthusiastic, but with an eye for victuals&mdash;is interrupting a soliloquy
+with the remark: "Now! who says bacon?" Every portrait has a
+history&mdash;Prince and Princess Henry of Battenberg in their wedding
+garments,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> the late Duke of Albany, Professor Huxley, Mrs. Beecher
+Stowe, Mr. and Mrs. Pinero, Mr. and Mrs. Bancroft, and many others.
+Three suggestive pictures, however, cannot be passed by. This dear
+little fellow is the son of Mr. B. J. Farjeon. Mr. Farjeon married "Rip
+Van Winkle" Jefferson's daughter, and the youngster is pictured dressed
+in the tattered garments of merry, rollicking <i>Rip</i>. You know how <i>Rip</i>
+always drinks your health? He holds the glass of hollands high up and
+cries, "Here's your health and your family's good health, and may they
+all live long and prosper!" but Mr. Farjeon's little boy cries out,
+"Here's your health, and your family's good health, and may you all live
+long and <i>proper</i>!"</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 291px;">
+<img src="images/image234-1.jpg" width="291" height="350" alt="GROUP IN CLAY BY JAN VAN BEERS." title="" />
+<span class="caption">GROUP IN CLAY BY JAN VAN BEERS.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 214px;">
+<img src="images/image234-2.jpg" width="214" height="350" alt="MRS. KENDAL AS &quot;GALATEA&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">MRS. KENDAL AS &quot;GALATEA&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>A photo, of Dr. Pancoast stands near a bust of Mrs. Kendal as <i>Galatea</i>,
+done when she was seventeen. Dr. Pancoast&mdash;a celebrated American
+physician&mdash;saved Mrs. Kendal's life when her maid accidentally
+administered a poisonous drug to her mistress. The poor girl herself
+nearly died of fright.</p>
+
+<p>But perhaps the portrait of the late Duchess of Cambridge, which Mrs.
+Kendal now holds in her hand, is more interesting than them all. "Her
+late Royal Highness," Mrs. Kendal said, "always addressed me and wrote
+to me as Mrs. Grimston. She was paralyzed in her right hand and wrote
+with her left; perhaps that is why this letter, written in pencil and
+with great effort, is treasured more than it otherwise would have been."</p>
+
+<p>It was one of the last letters written by Her Royal Highness. The
+letters and words were wonderfully legible; it read:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Mrs. Grimston</span>,&mdash;One line only to thank you for sending me
+the stalls for my dressers, who enjoyed your and Mr. Grimston's
+charming acting immensely. My first deaf one was able to follow
+perfectly, thanks to your having kindly let her have the book
+previously. Again thanking you,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I remain,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">"Yours very sincerely,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><span class="smcap">Augusta</span>."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<p>And in a little cabinet in the far corner is a beautiful S&egrave;vres bowl. In
+the bowl is a telegram from "Princess Mary," asking Mrs. Kendal to come
+to St. James's Palace at once. Written on a black-edged envelope were
+these words: "To dearest Mrs. Grimston Kendal. A little souvenir. Found
+amongst the last wishes of her late Royal Highness the Duchess of
+Cambridge."</p>
+
+<p>It is only just possible to hasten through the collection of substantial
+reminiscences which add to the charm of this corner of the house. The
+quaint white china hare was given to Mrs. Kendal many years ago by Mr.
+John Hare, when playing together at the Court. A curious but vividly
+suggestive idea of Japanese wit, in the shape of a couple of
+characteristically dressed figures, typifies "Health" and "Wealth"; the
+figure, representing "Health" has a countenance of the deepest red, the
+other a face all golden and as resplendent as the sun. In a small frame
+is the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> letter from the Goethe Club of New York, making Mrs. Kendal an
+honorary member. She is the only woman member of this club. And this
+pretty little doll dressed as a Quakeress&mdash;a charming compliment to the
+recipient&mdash;was presented by the Quakeresses of Philadelphia, who never,
+never, never go the play, yea, verily! So they sent this as a tribute of
+their admiration for the talents and character of the woman who has been
+called "The Matron of the Drama."</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 217px;">
+<img src="images/image235.jpg" width="217" height="350" alt="MRS. KENDALL&#39;S LITTLE QUAKERESS." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MRS. KENDALL&#39;S LITTLE QUAKERESS.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>We sat down on a settee in front of the fire. The cushions were of white
+lawn marked with the initial "M.," and were worked by the late Lady
+Eglinton.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Kendal's happy and homely face is familiar to all. She has a truly
+tender and sympathetic expression there at all times. Her hair was once
+that of the fair one with golden locks, now it is of a rich brown
+colour&mdash;very neatly and naturally trimmed about her head. She is very
+kind&mdash;very motherly; just the woman you would single out in time of
+trouble and ask, "What would you advise me to do?" I gathered these
+impressions whilst listening to many things she said of which I need not
+write. Her views on theatrical life are strong, nay, severe. She is not
+afraid to speak, and she hits hard and sends her shots home. But you
+cannot mistake the earnestness of her manner, the true intent of her
+motives.</p>
+
+<p>"I am only a common-place woman," she said to me. "I used to be ever so
+light-hearted&mdash;now, I'm a morbid creature. Here we are sitting down by
+the fireside. I may tell you happy reminiscences that may make one
+merry, and all the time I should be thinking about&mdash;what? Cancer! I
+return to my dressing-room from the stage at night. As I am passing
+along a fellow player may turn to me and say, 'How well the play has
+gone to-night!' I am only thinking of those who have trod that same
+stage before me. What are they now? Dust&mdash;earth&mdash;worms!"</p>
+
+<p>I stirred the fire, and the bright glow from its burning embers lit up
+the corner where we sat. And we talked together.</p>
+
+<p>Margaret Brunton Robertson was born at Great Grimsby on March 15th,
+1849&mdash;curiously enough these lines will be read on the anniversary of
+her birthday. Her grandfather, father, and uncle were all actors.</p>
+
+<p>"I lived alone with my father and mother," she said, "and the only real
+recollection I have of my father is his fine white beard, which he grew
+towards the latter days of his life, and a little advice he once gave
+me.</p>
+
+<p>"'Always count twenty,' he said, 'when you are walking across the quay
+at Bristol, then you won't hear the sailors swear!' Yet he would use
+very bad language to me when he was teaching me my parts; for you know I
+commenced acting at a very early age. I was only three when I made my
+first appearance&mdash;and I ruined the play. It was at the Marylebone
+Theatre in the 'Three Poor Travellers,' and I was a blind child. My
+nurse was in the front row of the pit&mdash;that is, in the very first row,
+for there were no stalls. All I thought about was my new shoes&mdash;a very
+pretty, dainty little pair, and as soon as I stepped on the stage, I
+opened my eyes, caught sight of the delighted face of my nurse, and
+cried out:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"'Oh! nursey, dear, look at my new shoes!'</p>
+
+<p>"I played at Chute's Theatre in Bristol in many child's parts. When my
+father went to the wall over the Lincoln Circuit, Mr. Chute engaged him
+as an actor, and I went with him. I remember in 'A Midsummer Night's
+Dream'&mdash;I was <i>Mustard Seed</i>, I think, or <i>Peas Blossom</i>; at any rate,
+some small character that required very prettily dressing, and plenty of
+flowers on my little costume. I am as fond of flowers to-day as I was
+then. Well, when once I got on the stage in my pretty dress&mdash;of which I
+was particularly proud&mdash;before I would leave it, I had to be bought off
+with apples and oranges! There they would stand at the wings, and the
+price<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> would go up&mdash;up&mdash;up&mdash;two oranges, three oranges, three oranges
+and two apples&mdash;until I inwardly murmured a childish equivalent for
+'sold,' and toddled off.</p>
+
+<p>"I acted <i>Eva</i> in 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' when I was eight. I think I was
+always a sad child&mdash;I looked forty when I was fifteen. After little
+<i>Eva</i> I used to play anything."</p>
+
+<p>And they were hard times for little Madge&mdash;she worked like the brave
+little woman she was. Her childish thoughts were constantly with her
+parents&mdash;how best could she add to the weekly income. And this is what
+the same little Madge would do. Night after night, after playing in a
+serious piece, she would appear in burlesque, sing, dance, and crack her
+small jokes with the best of them. It was hard work that made her a
+woman&mdash;it was dearly-bought experience that gave birth to the
+sympathetic heart she has to-day.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 237px;">
+<img src="images/image236.jpg" width="237" height="350" alt="MRS. KENDAL. From a Photo. by Bassano." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MRS. KENDAL. <i>From a Photo. by Bassano.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<p>So at fourteen she was a woman grown&mdash;and at fifteen at Hull played
+<i>Lady Macbeth</i> to Phelps's <i>Macbeth</i>!</p>
+
+<p>"I was dressed in my mother's clothes," Mrs. Kendal said, "and I fear I
+must have looked a fearful guy!"</p>
+
+<p>At rehearsal Phelps looked upon the young woman.</p>
+
+<p>"And who&mdash;who is this child?" asked the great actor.</p>
+
+<p>"Madge Robertson," the manager answered; "a rare favourite here. It was
+a choice between her and a very old woman, Mr. Phelps."</p>
+
+<p>"Then let the young woman play, by all means," Phelps said.</p>
+
+<p>What a night it was! At the end of the play they wanted her on again,
+but Phelps was obdurate. A party of men came round, and threatened to
+throw Phelps into the Humber! Phelps remained firm.</p>
+
+<p>"He was kindness itself through it all," Mrs. Kendal assured me, "and
+though I did not go on again, he proved his thoughtfulness a little
+later on by sending for me to play <i>Lady Teazle</i>. I played the leading
+parts during the three nights Phelps remained in Hull in 'The Man of the
+World,' 'Richelieu,' and 'Macbeth.' On July 29th, 1865, I made my
+<i>d&eacute;but</i> in London, at the Haymarket, as <i>Ophelia</i> to the <i>Hamlet</i> of
+Walter Montgomery. Poor Montgomery! He was what you would call a
+'lady-killer'&mdash;very conceited, but, withal, very kind. He once wrote a
+letter to my father, and added a postscript, saying: 'Keep this letter.
+Should poverty fall upon you or yours, your great-grand-children may be
+able to sell it for a good sum of money!' I was only with him six
+weeks."</p>
+
+<p>The only play of her brother's in which Mrs. Kendal has appeared was
+"Dreams," when the Gaiety first opened. At this time the managers always
+tried to induce Mrs. Kendal to appear in a riding habit&mdash;a costume in
+which she looked strikingly handsome.</p>
+
+<p>"Alfred Wigan played in 'Dreams,'" continued Mrs. Kendal. "His wife was
+one of the kindest women I ever met. She gave me a gold bracelet for a
+very curious little service I used to render her husband every night. He
+had to sing a song in 'Dreams,' and one or two of the high notes were
+beyond his reach. I used to take these notes for him, and the audience
+never guessed the truth."</p>
+
+<p>"And have you not played <i>Desdemona</i>?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! yes&mdash;and to a real black man, and so he did not have to put his
+head up the chimney to make himself up for the part! His name was Ira
+Aldridge, and scandal said he was the dresser of some great actor whom
+he used to imitate. But he had very ingenious ideas as to the character
+of <i>Othello</i>. He thought him a brute, and played him as such. His great
+notion was to get the fairest woman possible for <i>Desdemona</i>&mdash;and I was
+selected, for at that time my hair was quite golden.</p>
+
+<p>"In one part of the play he would cry out, 'Give me thy hand,
+Desdemona!' and certainly the effect of my hand in his huge grasp was
+impressive. Then in the last act he would pull me from the couch by the
+hair of my head. Oh! there was something in his realism, I can tell
+you!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Miss Robertson made a great sensation when she appeared as <i>Blanche
+Dumont</i>, in Dr. Westland Marston's "Hero of Romance," when it was
+performed for the first time at the Haymarket Theatre, on March 14th,
+1868. Seventeen months after this, on August 7th, 1869, she was Madge
+Robertson no longer. On that day she was married to Mr. William Hunter
+Grimston, whose stage name is Kendal. It is a charming little story.</p>
+
+<p>It occurred at Manchester. Mr. Kendal and Miss Robertson were on tour
+with the elder Compton, and they were&mdash;sweethearts. A convenient time
+seemed to have arrived for their wedding day, for on the Thursday,
+Friday, and Saturday nights pieces were to be played in which neither of
+them would be required. This would mean a nice little honeymoon&mdash;and the
+two lovers would reappear on the Monday night. So the day was
+fixed&mdash;Thursday; the church chosen&mdash;St. Saviour's, Plymouth Grove; and
+the best man booked&mdash;Walter Gowing, who used to play under the name of
+Walter Gordon.</p>
+
+<p>Then bad news came. Compton's brother was taken ill, and he had to hurry
+away from Cottonopolis. Another play had to be put in the bill, both Mr.
+Kendal and Miss Robertson would be needed&mdash;for it was "As You Like It,"
+and the one would be wanted for <i>Orlando</i> and the other for <i>Rosalind</i>.
+Still, the wedding was proceeded with on Thursday morning, quietly and
+happily, and in the evening husband and wife met on the stage in the
+Forest of Arden. There, with <i>Celia</i> as the priest, amidst the leafy
+trees and grassy pathways, <i>Orlando</i> turns to the merry <i>Celia</i>, and
+pointing to the far, far happier <i>Rosalind</i>, cries out:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Pray thee, marry us!"</p>
+
+<p>"Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rosalind?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will."</p>
+
+<p>"Then," <i>Rosalind</i> pertly remarks, "you must say, 'I take thee,
+Rosalind, for wife.'"</p>
+
+<p>"I take thee, Rosalind, for wife," said <i>Orlando</i>, earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>Then <i>Rosalind</i> asked, "Now tell me how long you would have her after
+you have possessed her?"</p>
+
+<p>And <i>Orlando</i> replied&mdash;both in the words of Shakespeare and in the
+language of his own heart&mdash;"For ever and a day!"</p>
+
+<p>That is the true story of the wedding of Mr. and Mrs. Kendal. It was a
+natural desire of each never to play apart from the other, and from that
+day they have never separated. For some seven years Mr. and Mrs. Kendal
+played at the Haymarket, under Buckstone's management, and the gifted
+actress merrily referred to the little jokes played on "Bucky" by some
+of the actors. He was stone deaf, and could only take his cues when to
+speak from the movements of his fellow-actors' lips, so they would annoy
+him by continuing the lip movement, and "Bucky" sometimes got "stuck."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 539px;">
+<img src="images/image237.jpg" width="539" height="400" alt="THE DRAWING-ROOM. From a Photo. by Elliott &amp; Fry." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE DRAWING-ROOM. <i>From a Photo. by Elliott &amp; Fry.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Little need be said of Mrs. Kendal's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> subsequent work&mdash;her acting at the
+Court, the Prince of Wales's, and her labours at the St. James's, when,
+in 1881, she appeared there under the joint management of Mr. Kendal and
+Mr. Hare. Not only in this country has her name become fondly familiar
+in the homes of those who "go to the theatre" and those who "never
+would," but in America the artistic acting of herself and husband has
+been instantly and enthusiastically recognised.</p>
+
+<p>I left the drawing-room&mdash;pausing, before entering Mr. Kendal's study, to
+admire the aviary&mdash;a veritable home of song&mdash;and to notice one
+diminutive member of the feathered tribe in particular, who has been
+taught by Miss Grimston to perform tricks <i>ad lib.</i>, in addition to
+giving forth the sweetest of notes.</p>
+
+<p>The study is a very delicate apartment in terra-cotta and gold&mdash;here and
+there are quaint blue china vases and many exquisite bronzes. The window
+in the recess where the table is&mdash;a typical study table, suggesting
+plenty of work&mdash;is of stained glass, the quartet of divisions
+representing the four seasons. A glance round the walls of this room at
+once reveals the substantial side of Mr. Kendal's artistic
+hobby&mdash;pictures. In this apartment there is nothing but water-colours,
+save a very clever pen-and-ink sketch by a New York artist, called "Six
+Months After Marriage," which Jefferson caught sight of at the New York
+Dramatic Bazaar, and reminded Mr. Kendal to "keep his eye on," and a
+portrait or two of Mrs. Kendal and the children. "Hetty Sorrell" at her
+butter pats, with her thoughts very far from the churning-pan, is a gem.
+"The Last of St. Bartholomew" is a magnificent bit of painting, and the
+Venetian views at once carry one back to the home of the merry gondolier
+and perfect moonlight nights. This picture of Salvini&mdash;who its possessor
+assured me was the finest tragedian he had ever seen&mdash;was painted by Mr.
+Kendal himself. The bookcase, running along opposite the window,
+contains many rare first editions, of which Mr. Kendal is a very
+persevering and successful collector, and a bound manuscript copy of
+every play produced by him, together with the original sketches for the
+scenery. You may look over the "Scrap of Paper," "The Falcon," "Queen's
+Shilling," "Ladies' Battle," "Clancarty," "The Ironmaster," "The Money
+Spinner," and "The Squire"&mdash;Pinero's play, of which somebody wrote that
+it wafted the scent of the new-mown hay across the footlights.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 314px;">
+<img src="images/image238.jpg" width="314" height="450" alt="PORTRAIT OF SALVANI, BY MR. KENDAL." title="" />
+<span class="caption">PORTRAIT OF SALVANI, BY MR. KENDAL.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>It is interesting to learn how Mr. Kendal first came across Pinero.</p>
+
+<p>"I only knew him as an actor at the Lyceum," he said, "and had never met
+him. He wrote and asked if we would let him read a play to us. As a rule
+we never do that; but, remembering that Pinero was himself a player, we
+made an exception. So it came about that one day, after a rehearsal, the
+actor playwright read his piece to us in the <i>foyer</i> of the St. James's.
+We never expected anything at first, but the reading ended in our taking
+the play immediately, though we scarcely knew what we should do with it,
+seeing it was a two-act play. We found an opportunity, however, and you
+know the success it was. It was called 'The Money Spinner.'"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Kendal is a striking-looking man&mdash;the very ideal of a picturesque
+soldier, with a constitution of steel. He talks to you frankly, easily,
+for there is not two penny-worth of presumption about him. He lives and
+labours very quietly&mdash;he enjoys his days, and a good cigar. He divides
+his talents between the stage and the brush. His pencil and palette have
+been with him in far-off<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> places, and there is always a corner in his
+bag for them if he only travels twenty miles from Harley Street. His
+peculiarity of painting&mdash;so to speak&mdash;lies in the fact that he never
+fails to chronicle the view obtained from any hotel where he may be
+staying. He showed me a book full of these hasty impressions&mdash;all of
+which were most beautifully done&mdash;many of them he could only give ten
+minutes or a quarter of an hour to. Two of these I brought away for
+reproduction in these pages; they are both unfinished, however&mdash;the
+pencil reminders of certain little additions tell that.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image239.jpg" width="500" height="362" alt="SKETCH FROM THE QUEEN&#39;s HOTEL, MANCHESTER, BY MR.
+KENDAL." title="" />
+<span class="caption">SKETCH FROM THE QUEEN&#39;s HOTEL, MANCHESTER, BY MR.
+KENDAL.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The first of these is a view of the Infirmary as seen from Mr. Kendal's
+window at the Queen's Hotel, Manchester; the second&mdash;done in a quarter
+of an hour&mdash;shows the way the Americans erect their buildings for
+exhibiting a cyclorama&mdash;popularly known here as a panorama. It was done
+from a back window in an hotel in Cleveland, U.S.A. The actor-artist
+never learnt drawing, save for a few hours' lessons he took at the Slade
+Schools under the tuition of Le Gros. He draws everything that impresses
+him&mdash;his painting memory is remarkable. He sees a man's face in the
+street, carries it home in his mind, and it will be very faithfully put
+on paper or canvas.</p>
+
+<p>We talked for a long time on "pictures"&mdash;he was so happy and earnest
+about it that it was some time before we made an attempt to tread the
+boards and get behind the footlights.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Kendal&mdash;William Hunter Grimston&mdash;was born at Notting Hill, and just
+outside the sound of Bow Bells, on December 16th, 1843. His parents
+belonged to the Low Church, and their views of the theatre in general,
+and on adopting the stage as a profession in particular, will be readily
+understood. Mr. Kendal was intended for the Army&mdash;how he came to "go on"
+the stage is best told in his own words:</p>
+
+<p>"I had only been to three or four pantomimes previously," he said, "and
+one night&mdash;I was about eighteen years of age at the time&mdash;I found myself
+in the stalls of the old Soho Theatre, in Dean Street, Soho, now known
+as the Royalty Theatre. My paper and pencil were out, and I was busily
+engaged in making sketches of the various actors and actresses. The
+piece was 'Billie Taylor.' Suddenly I felt a gentle tap on the shoulder
+from behind. I turned round.</p>
+
+<p>"'Would you allow me to take those sketches round and show the 'parties'
+interested?' a gentleman asked.</p>
+
+<p>"'Certainly; with pleasure,' I replied.</p>
+
+<p>"'Perhaps you would like to come behind the scenes as well?'</p>
+
+<p>"It was just what I wanted, so I followed the person who had so kindly
+interested himself in my scribble. He proved to be Mr. Mowbray, the
+manager of the theatre. The picture behind the scenes that night was a
+perfect Elysium to me. I think Mowbray must have noticed the impression
+it made upon me, for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> he asked if I would like to go on the stage. I
+did&mdash;as a sort of super."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image240.jpg" width="500" height="366" alt="SKETCH FROM HOTEL WINDOW, CLEVELAND, U.S.A., BY MR.
+KENDAL." title="" />
+<span class="caption">SKETCH FROM HOTEL WINDOW, CLEVELAND, U.S.A., BY MR.
+KENDAL.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Mr. Kendal's first important engagement lasted four or five years at the
+Theatre Royal, Glasgow. Here he met and played with such people as Helen
+Faucit (Lady Martin), G. V. Brooke, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Kean, Dion
+Boucicault, Fechter, Miss Bateman (Mrs. Crowe), and the elder Sothern.
+When Sothern left, the accomplished young actor played <i>Dundreary</i>, and
+found himself straying in the footsteps of the famous originator of the
+part, even to the hop. One would have thought that people would have
+praised the actor for taking such a worthy example&mdash;but it displeased
+Tom Taylor, and he wrote very wrathfully. Then Mr. Kendal went to the
+Haymarket, met Miss Robertson, and from their wedding day their lives
+may be said to have been the same in thought, word, and deed.</p>
+
+<p>As an organizer and man of business his tact and judgment were tested
+and proved during his joint management of the St. James's with Mr. Hare
+in 1881. For some time previous to this Mr. Kendal had been on the
+look-out for a theatre, and his mind wandered towards the St. James's,
+but it required a large sum of money spending on it before it could be
+opened.</p>
+
+<p>"One night I was talking to Lord Newry at my club," said Mr. Kendal,
+"and happened to say that if &pound;2,000 or so were spent on the St. James's
+I might feel inclined to take it.</p>
+
+<p>"'Suppose I spend that amount of money on the place, will you take it?'
+Lord Newry asked.</p>
+
+<p>"My only reply was that I would think about it. In the meantime I went
+to the Court, from there to the Prince of Wales's to play in
+'Diplomacy'&mdash;it ran a year&mdash;'Peril' and 'London Assurance.' Then I
+returned to the Court again, and during this time Lord Newry had
+practically gutted the old and unlucky St. James's, turned it inside
+out&mdash;John Hare, my wife and self entered, and we remained there nearly
+ten years."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. and Mrs. Kendal share the same opinion of America&mdash;it is the land of
+to-day, the land of the future. As to its theatres in comparison with
+ours, Mrs. Kendal&mdash;who had now joined us&mdash;was most enthusiastic. I had
+reached the pillars, from which hung curtains of intricate Japanese
+workmanship, leading to the hall. Victoria, the Jubilee dog, was barking
+a friendly "Good-bye," and the lusty throats of Miss Grimston's
+two-and-twenty canaries forced their sweet notes from a far-away room
+into the passage.</p>
+
+<p>"I will give you some idea of what an American theatre is like," said
+Mrs. Kendal. "You reach your destination by rail at some small place for
+a one-night stay. If it is raining and the ground is wet, men in long
+jack-boots catch hold of you and gallantly take you across the puddles.
+You do not see a soul about&mdash;and you are in fear and trembling as to
+where your night's audience<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> is coming from. You get to your hotel, and
+then your next thought is&mdash;where is the theatre? You expect to find a
+little, uncomfortable, band-box of a place, and you set out to see it
+with a heavy heart. It is a palace&mdash;a marble palace&mdash;a positive poem!
+And your heart leaps happily&mdash;only to drop dull again, for you suddenly
+remember that you have seen&mdash;nobody, not even the oldest inhabitant. You
+turn to the manager.</p>
+
+<p>"'Yes, yes&mdash;but, what about an audience, how are you going to fill it?'
+you ask.</p>
+
+<p>"'Wall,' he replies, 'I don't trouble myself much about that. I reckon
+that every seat in this theatre is sold for to-night, that's all!'"</p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Harry How.</span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 388px;">
+<img src="images/image241.jpg" width="388" height="500" alt="MR. KENDAL. From a Photo. by Maurice Stephens,
+Harrogat." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MR. KENDAL. From a Photo. by Maurice Stephens,
+Harrogat.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Author_Author" id="Author_Author"></a>"<i>Author! Author</i>!"</h2>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">By E. W. Hornung.</span></h3>
+
+
+<p>This story has to do with two men and a play, instead of a woman, and it
+is none of mine. I had it from an old gentleman I love: only he ought to
+have written it himself. This, however, he will never do; having known
+intimately in his young days one of the two men concerned. But I have
+his leave to repeat the story more or less as he told it&mdash;if I can. And
+I am going to him for my rebuke&mdash;when I dare.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>"You want to hear the story of poor old Pharazyn and his play? I'm now
+going to tell it you.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, well! My recollection of the matter dates from one summer's night
+at my old rooms in the Adelphi, when he spoilt my night's work by coming
+in flushed with an idea of his own. I remember banging the drawer into
+which I threw my papers to lock them away for the night; but in a few
+minutes I had forgotten my unfinished article, and was glad that
+Pharazyn had come. We were young writers, both of us; and, let me tell
+you, my good fellow, young writing wasn't in those days what it is now.
+I am thinking less of merit than of high prices, and less of high prices
+than of cheap notoriety. Neither of us had ever had our names before the
+public&mdash;not even in the advertised contents of an unread and unreadable
+magazine. No one cared about names in my day, save for the half-dozen
+great ones that were then among us; so Pharazyn's and mine never used to
+appear in the newspapers, though some of them used our stuff.</p>
+
+<p>"In a manner we were rivals, for we were writing the same sort of thing
+for the same sort of publications, and that was how we had come
+together; but never was rivalry friendlier, or mutually more helpful.
+Our parts were strangely complementary; if I could understand for the
+life of me the secret of collaboration, which has always been a mystery
+to me, I should say that I might have collaborated with Pharazyn almost
+ideally. I had the better of him in point of education, and would have
+turned single sentences against him for all he was worth; and I don't
+mind saying so, for there my superiority ended. When he had a story to
+tell, he told it with a swing and impetus which I coveted him, as well I
+might to this day; and if he was oftener without anything to write
+about, his ideas would pay twenty shillings in the pound, in strength
+and originality, where mine made some contemptible composition in pence.
+That is why I have been a failure at fiction&mdash;oh, yes, I have! That is
+why Pharazyn would have succeeded, if only he had stuck to plain
+ordinary narrative prose.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 447px;">
+<img src="images/image242.jpg" width="447" height="450" alt="&quot;HE SKETCHED THE NEW STORY.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;HE SKETCHED THE NEW STORY.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"The idea he was unable to keep within his own breast, on the evening of
+which I am telling you, was as new, and simple, and dramatic as any that
+ever intoxicated the soul of story-teller or made a brother author green
+with envy. I can see him now, as I watched him that night, flinging to
+and fro with his quick, nervous stride, while he sketched the new
+story&mdash;bit by bit, and often the wrong bit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> foremost; but all with his
+own flashing vividness, which makes me so sorry&mdash;so sorry whenever I
+think of it. At moments he would stand still before the chair on which I
+sat intent, and beat one hand upon the other, and look down at me with a
+grand, wondering smile, as though he himself could hardly believe what
+the gods had put into his head, or that the gift was real gold, it
+glittered so at first sight. On that point I could reassure him. My open
+jealousy made me admire soberly. But when he told me, quite suddenly, as
+though on an afterthought, that he meant to make a play of it and not a
+story, I had the solid satisfaction at that moment of calling him a
+fool.</p>
+
+<p>"The ordinary author of my day, you see, had a certain timorous respect
+for the technique of the stage. It never occurred to us to make light of
+those literary conventions which it was not our business to understand.
+We were behind you fellows in every way. But Pharazyn was a sort of
+forerunner: he said that any intelligent person could write a play, if
+he wanted to, and provided he could write at all. He said his story was
+a born play; and it was, in a way; but I told him I doubted whether he
+could train it up with his own hand to be a good-acting one. I knew I
+was right. He had neither the experience nor the innate constructive
+faculty, one or other of which is absolutely necessary for the writing
+of possible plays. I implored him to turn the thing into a good dramatic
+novel, and so make his mark at one blow. But no; the fatal fit was on
+him, and I saw that it must run its course. Already he could see and
+hear his audience laughing and crying, so he said, and I daresay he
+could also feel the crinkle of crisp weekly receipts. I only know that
+we sat up all night over it, arguing and smoking and drinking whisky
+until my windows overlooking the river caught the rising sun at an
+angle. Then I gave in. For poor old Pharazyn was more obstinate than
+ever, though he thanked me with the greatest good temper for my
+well-meant advice.</p>
+
+<p>"'And look here, my boy,' says he, as he puts on his hat, 'you shan't
+hear another word about this till the play's written; and you are to ask
+no questions. Is that a bargain? Very well, then. When I've finished
+it&mdash;down to the very last touches&mdash;<i>you</i> shall come and sit up all night
+with <i>me</i>, and I'll read you every word. And by gad, old chap, if they
+give me a call the first night, and want a speech&mdash;and I see you sitting
+in your stall, like a blessed old fool as you are&mdash;by gad, sir, I'll
+hold up you and your judgment to the ridicule of the house, so help me
+never!'</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 325px;">
+<img src="images/image243.jpg" width="325" height="500" alt="&quot;I COULD SMELL HIS PIPE THROUGH THE KEYHOLE.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;I COULD SMELL HIS PIPE THROUGH THE KEYHOLE.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Well, I am coming to that first night presently. Meanwhile, for the
+next six months, I saw very little of Pharazyn, and less still in the
+new year. He seldom came to my rooms now; when he did I could never get
+him to stay and sit up with me; and once when I climbed up to his garret
+(it was literally that), he would not answer me, though I could smell
+his pipe through the key-hole, in which he had turned the key. Yet he
+was perfectly friendly whenever we did meet. He said he was working very
+hard, and indeed I could imagine it; his personal appearance, which he
+had never cherished, being even untidier, and I am obliged to add
+seedier, than of old. He continued to send me odd magazines in which his
+stuff happened to appear, or occasionally a proof for one's opinion and
+suggestions; we had done this to each other all along; but either I did
+not think about it, or somehow he led me to suppose that his things were
+more or less hot from the pen, whereas many of mine had been written a
+twelvemonth before one saw them in type. One way or another, I gathered
+that he was at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> work in our common groove, and had shelved, for the
+present at all events, his proposed play, about which you will remember
+I had undertaken to ask no questions.</p>
+
+<p>"I was quite mistaken. One night in the following March he came to me
+with a haggard face, a beaming eye, and a stout, clean manuscript, which
+he brought down with a thud on my desk. It was the play he had sketched
+out to me eight or nine months before. I was horrified to hear he had
+been at work upon it alone from that night to this. He had written, so
+he said, during all this time, not another line, only each line of his
+play some ten times over.</p>
+
+<p>"I recollect looking curiously at his shabby clothes, and then reminding
+him that it was at his place, not mine, I was to have heard him read the
+play: and how he confessed that he had no chair for me there&mdash;that his
+room was, in fact, three parts dismantled&mdash;that he had sacrificed
+everything to the play, which was worth it. I was extremely angry. I
+could have helped him so easily, independent as I was of the calling I
+loved to follow. But there was about him always an accursed, unnecessary
+independence, which has since struck me&mdash;and I think I may say so after
+all these years&mdash;as the mark of a rather humble, very honest origin.</p>
+
+<p>"He read me the play, and I cried over the third act, and so did he. I
+thought then, and still think, that there was genius in that third
+act&mdash;it took you off your feet. And to me, certainly, it seemed as if
+the piece must act as well as it read, though indeed, as I took care to
+say and to repeat, my opinion was well-nigh valueless on that point. I
+only knew that I could see the thing playing itself, as I walked about
+the room (for this time I was the person who was too excited to sit
+still), and that was enough to make one sanguine. I became as
+enthusiastic about it as though the work were mine (which it never,
+never would or could have been), yet I was unable to suggest a single
+improvement, or to have so much as a finger-tip in the pie. Nor could I
+afterwards account for its invariable reception at the hands of
+managers, whose ways were then unknown to me. That night we talked only
+of one kind of reception. We were still talking when the sun came
+slanting up the river to my windows; you could hardly see them for
+tobacco-smoke, and we had emptied a bottle of whisky to the success of
+Pharazyn's immortal play.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 349px;">
+<img src="images/image244.jpg" width="349" height="450" alt="&quot;HIS MANUSCRIPT RAGGED BUT UNREAD.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;HIS MANUSCRIPT RAGGED BUT UNREAD.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Oh, those nights&mdash;those nights once in a way! God forgive me, but I'd
+sacrifice many things to be young again and feel clever, and to know the
+man who would sit up all night with me to rule the world over a bottle
+of honest grog. In the pale light of subsequent revelations I ought,
+perhaps, to recall such a night, with that particular companion,
+silently and in spiritual ashes. But it is ridiculous, in my opinion, to
+fit some sort of consequence to every little insulated act; nor will I
+ever admit that poor Pharazyn's ultimate failing was in any appreciable
+degree promoted or prepared for by those our youthful full-souled
+orgies. I know very well that afterwards, when his life was spent in
+waylaying those aforesaid managers, in cold passages, on stage
+doorsteps, or, in desperation, under the public portico on the street;
+and when a hundred snubs and subterfuges would culminate in the return
+of his manuscript, ragged but unread: I know, and I knew then, that the
+wreck who would dodge me in Fleet Street,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> or cut me in the Strand, had
+taken to his glass more seriously and more steadily than a man should.
+But I am not sure that it matters much&mdash;<i>much</i>, you understand me&mdash;when
+that man's heart is broken.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>"The last words I was ever to exchange with my poor old friend keep
+ringing in my head to this day, whenever I think of him; and I can
+repeat them every one. It was some few years after our intimacy had
+ceased, and when I only knew that he had degenerated into a Fleet Street
+loafer of the most dilapidated type, that I caught sight of him one day
+outside a theatre. It was the theatre which was for some years a
+gold-mine to one Morton Morrison, of whom you may never have heard; but
+he was a public pet in his day, I can tell you, and his day was just
+then at its high noon. Well, there stood Pharazyn, with his hands in his
+pockets and a cutty-pipe sticking out between his ragged beard and
+moustache, and his shoulders against the pit door, so that for once he
+could not escape me. But he wouldn't take a hand out of his pocket to
+shake mine; and when I asked him how he was, without thinking, he
+laughed in my face, and it made me feel cruel. He was dreadfully
+emaciated, and almost in rags. And as I wondered what I ought to do, and
+what to say next, he gave a cough, and spat upon the pavement, and I
+could see the blood.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 334px;">
+<img src="images/image245.jpg" width="334" height="500" alt="&quot;THERE STOOD PHARAZYN.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THERE STOOD PHARAZYN.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"I don't know what you would have done for him&mdash;but for all I knew what
+had brought him to this, I could think of nothing but a drink. It was
+mid-winter, and I tell you the man was in rags. I felt that if I could
+get him to a bar he might eat something, too, and that I should get a
+hold of him this time which I would never again let go. Judge of my
+surprise when he flatly refused to come with me even for a drink.</p>
+
+<p>"'Can't you see? he said in his hollow voice. 'There'll be a crowd here
+directly, and I want the best seat in the pit&mdash;the best in the house.
+I've been going dry for it these two days, and I'm going dry till I've
+seen the piece. No, I've been here an hour already, and there's three
+hours more, I know; but I'm not going to risk it, thanks all the same.'</p>
+
+<p>"By this I had remembered that Morton Morrison was to re-open that night
+with a new piece. Indeed, I ought not to have forgotten that, seeing
+that I had my order about me somewhere, and it meant a column from my
+pen between twelve and one that night. But this sudden, sorry meeting
+had put all other thoughts out of my head.</p>
+
+<p>"'My dear fellow,' I said, with a sort of laugh, 'are you a
+first-nighter, too?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Only at this theatre.'</p>
+
+<p>"He looked me queerly in the face.</p>
+
+<p>"'You admire Morrison very much?'</p>
+
+<p>"'I love him!'</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose my eyes thawed him, though God knows how hard I was trying
+not to hurt him with pitying looks. At all events he began to explain
+himself of his own accord, very impetuously; indeed I rather think the
+outburst was purely involuntary.</p>
+
+<p>"'Look here,' he said, with his hoarse voice lowered: 'I hoped never to
+see your face again. I hoped you'd never see mine. But now you are here,
+don't go this minute, and I'll tell you why I think so much of Morton
+Morrison. I don't know him, mind you&mdash;he doesn't know me from Adam&mdash;but
+once long ago I had something to do with him. And God bless him, but
+damn every other manager in London, for he was the only one of the lot
+that gave me a civil hearing and a kind word!'</p>
+
+<p>"I knew what he was talking about, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> he knew that I knew, for we had
+understood one another in the old days.</p>
+
+<p>"'I took it to him last of all,' he went on, wiping his damp lips with
+his hand. 'When I began hawking it about he was an unknown man; when his
+turn came he was here. He let me read it to him. Then he asked me to
+leave it with him for a week; and when I went back to him, he said what
+they had all said&mdash;that it would never act! But Morton Morrison said it
+nicely. And when he saw how it cut me up, into little bits, he got me to
+tell him all about everything; and then he persuaded me to burn the
+play, instead of ruining my life for it; and I burnt it in his
+dressing-room fire, but the ruin was too far gone to mend. I wrote that
+thing with my heart's blood&mdash;old man, you know I did! And none of them
+would think of it! My God! But Morrison was good about it&mdash;he's a good
+soul&mdash;and that's why you'll see me at every first night of his until the
+drink finishes its work.'</p>
+
+<p>"I had not followed him quite to the end. One thing had amazed me too
+much.</p>
+
+<p>"'You burnt your play,' I could only murmur, 'when it would have turned
+into such a novel! Surely you have some draft of it still?'</p>
+
+<p>"'I burnt the lot when I got home,' Pharazyn replied; 'and by-and-by I
+shall join 'em and burn too!'</p>
+
+<p>"I had nothing to answer to that, and was, besides, tenacious of my
+point. 'I don't think much of the kindness that makes one man persuade
+another to burn his work and throw up the sponge,' said I, with a good
+deal of indignation, for I did feel wroth with that fellow Morrison&mdash;a
+bread-and-butter drawing-room actor, whose very vogue used to irritate
+me.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image246.jpg" width="450" height="376" alt="&quot;WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THIS?&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THIS?&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"'Then what do you think of this?' asked Pharazyn, as he dipped a hand
+within his shabby coat, and cautiously unclenched it under my nose.</p>
+
+<p>"'Why, it's a five-pound note!'</p>
+
+<p>"'I know; but wasn't <i>that</i> kind, then?'</p>
+
+<p>"'So Morrison gave you this!' I exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Two or three persons had stopped to join us at the pit door, and
+Pharazyn hastily put the note back in his pocket. As he did so, his
+dreadfully shabby condition gave my heart a fresh cut.</p>
+
+<p>"'Are you never going to spend that?' I asked in a whisper; and in a
+whisper he answered:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"'Never! It is all my play has brought me&mdash;all. It was given me as a
+charity, but I took it as my earnings&mdash;my earnings for all the work and
+waiting, and blood and tears, that one thing cost me. Spend it? Not I!
+It will bury me as decently as I deserve.'</p>
+
+<p>"We could converse no more. And the presence of other people prevented
+me from giving him my overcoat, though I spoke of it into his ear,
+begging and imploring him to come away and take it while there was still
+time for him to clip back and get a seat in the front row. But he would
+not hear of it, and the way he refused reminded me of his old stubborn
+independence; all I got was a promise that he would have a bite with me
+after the performance. And so I left him in the frosty dusk, ill-clad
+and unkempt, with the new-lit lamp over the pit door shining down upon
+the haggard mask that had once been the eager, memorable face of my
+cleverest friend.</p>
+
+<p>"I saw him next the moment I entered the theatre that evening, and I
+nodded my head to him, which he rebuked with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> slightest shake of his
+own. So I looked no more at him before the play began, comprehending
+that he desired me not to do so. The temptation, however, was too strong
+to go on resisting, for while Pharazyn was in the very centre of the
+front row in the pit, I was at one end of the last row of the stalls;
+and I was very anxious about him, wanting to make sure that he was there
+and not going to escape me again, and nervous of having him out of my
+sight for five minutes together.</p>
+
+<p>"Thus I know more about the gradual change which came over Pharazyn's
+poor face, as scene followed scene, than of the developments and merits
+of those scenes themselves. My mind was in any case running more on my
+lost friend than on the piece; but it was not till near the end of the
+first act that the growing oddity of his look first struck me.</p>
+
+<p>"His eyebrows were raised; it was a look of incredulity chiefly; yet I
+could see nothing to impale for improbability in the play as far as it
+had gone. I was but lightly attending, for my own purposes, as you
+youngsters skim your betters for review; but thus far the situation
+struck me as at once feasible and promising. Also it seemed not a little
+familiar to me; I could not say why, for watching Pharazyn's face. And
+it was his face that told me at last, in the second act. By God, it was
+his own play!</p>
+
+<p>"It was Pharazyn's play, superficially altered all through, nowhere
+substantially; but the only play for me, when I knew that, was being
+acted in the front row of the pit, and not on the stage, to which I had
+turned the side of my head. I watched my old friend's face writhe and
+work until it stiffened in a savage calm; and watching, I thought of the
+'first night' he had pictured jovially in the old days, when the bare
+idea of the piece was bursting his soul; and thinking, I wondered
+whether it could add a drop to his bitterness to remember that too.</p>
+
+<p>"Yet, through all my thoughts, I was listening, intently enough, now.
+And in the third act I heard the very words my friend had written: they
+had not meddled with his lines in the great scene which had moved us
+both to tears long ago in my rooms. And this I swear to, whether you
+believe it or no&mdash;that at the crisis of that scene, which was just as
+Pharazyn made it, the calm ferocity transfiguring his face died away all
+at once, and I saw it shining with the sweetest tears our eyes can
+shed&mdash;the tears of an artist over his own work.</p>
+
+<p>"And when the act was over he sat with his head on his hand for some
+minutes, drinking in the applause, as I well knew; then he left his seat
+and squeezed out on my side of the house, and I made sure he was coming
+to speak to me over the barrier; and I got up to speak to him; but he
+would not see me, but stood against the barrier with a mien as white and
+set as chiselled marble.</p>
+
+<p>"What followed on the first fall of the curtain I shall relate as
+rapidly as it happened. Louder call for an author I never heard, and I
+turned my eyes to the stage in my intense curiosity to see who would
+come forward; for the piece had been brought out anonymously; and I
+divined that Morrison himself was about to father it. And so he did; but
+as the lie passed his lips, and in the interval before the applause&mdash;the
+tiny interval between flash and peal&mdash;the lie was given him in a roar of
+fury from my left; there fell a thud of feet at my side, and Pharazyn
+was over the barrier and bolting down the gangway towards the stage. I
+think he was near making a leap for the footlights and confronting
+Morrison on his own boards; but the orchestra came between, and the
+fiddlers rose in their places. Then he turned wildly to us pressmen, and
+I will say he had our ear, if not that of the whole house besides, for
+the few words he was allowed to utter.</p>
+
+<p>"'Gentlemen!' he cried at the top of his voice&mdash;'Gentlemen, I'm one of
+you! I'm a writing man like yourselves, and I wrote this play that
+you've seen. That man never wrote it at all&mdash;I wrote it myself! That man
+has only altered it. I read it to him two years ago&mdash;two years ago,
+gentlemen! He kept it for a week, and then got me to burn it as
+rubbish&mdash;when he had made a copy of it! And he gave me this,
+gentlemen&mdash;he gave me this that I give him back!'</p>
+
+<p>"It was a matter of only a few seconds, but not till my own last hour
+shall I forget Morrison's painted face on the stage, or that sweating
+white one beneath the boxes; or the fluttering from Pharazyn's poor
+fingers of the five-pound note he had treasured for two years; or the
+hush all over the house until the first hand was laid upon his dirty
+collar.</p>
+
+<p>"'What!' he screamed, 'do none of you believe me? Will none of you stand
+by me&mdash;isn't there a man&mdash;not one man among you&mdash;&mdash;'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"And they threw him out with my name on his lips. And I followed, and
+floored a brute who was handling him roughly. And nothing happened to
+me&mdash;because of what happened to Pharazyn!"</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>The dear old boy sat silent, his grey head on his hand. Presently he
+went on, more to himself than to me: "What could I do? What proof had I?
+He had burnt them every one. And as long as the public would stand him,
+Morrison kept his good name at least. And that play was his great
+success!"</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image248.jpg" width="450" height="399" alt="&quot;HE GAVE ME THIS.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;HE GAVE ME THIS.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>I ventured gently to inquire what had happened to Pharazyn.</p>
+
+<p>"He died in my arms," my old friend cried, throwing up his head with an
+oath and a tear. "He died in a few minutes, outside the theatre. I could
+hear them clapping after he was dead&mdash;clapping his piece."</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;">
+<img src="images/image249.jpg" width="700" height="967" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+<p><a name="Zig_Zags_at_the_Zoo_Conkavian" id="Zig_Zags_at_the_Zoo_Conkavian"></a></p>
+
+
+<p>If the gentle reader, full of a general desire for knowledge and a
+particular enthusiasm for natural history, will refer to any one of the
+great standard works on birds, and, turning to the index, seek for the
+family title of the Conkaves, I have every hope and confidence that he
+will not find it; because, as a matter of fact, it is a little invention
+of my own, and, I may modestly urge, rather a neat thing in scientific
+nomenclature, on the whole. It has the advantage of including in one
+family the storks and the pelicans, which in all orthodox books on birds
+are planted far apart and out of sight of each other, with many orders,
+tribes, and families between. Under my title they are gathered amicably
+together in the common possession of very long bills, like two tailors
+on a man's doorstep. The word is derived, in the proper and regular
+manner, from ancient sources; from <i>conk</i>, a venerable Eastern word,
+signifying a nose or beak, and the Latin <i>avis</i>, a bird.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> And I offer
+the term freely as my humble, but I trust useful, contribution to
+science; my first contribution.</p>
+
+<p>The stork is regarded, in many countries, with a certain
+semi-superstitious reverence and esteem. After many prolonged and
+serious attempts to saturate myself with a similar feeling, I regret to
+confess to a certain smallness of esteem for the stork. You can't esteem
+a bird that makes ugly digs at your feet and heels with such a very big
+beak. Out in their summer quarters the storks are kept in by close wire,
+and close wire will give an air of inoffensiveness to most things. But,
+away in a by-yard, with a gate marked "private," there stands a shed
+wherein the storks are kept warm in winter, behind wooden bars; and
+between these bars stork-heads have a way of dropping at the toes of the
+favoured passer-by, like to action of a row of roadmen's picks.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image250-1.jpg" width="450" height="407" alt="PICKS AND CHEWS." title="" />
+<span class="caption">PICKS AND CHEWS.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The stork has come off well in the matter of bodily endowment. The
+pelican has a tremendous beak&mdash;achieved, it would seem, by a skimping of
+material in the legs; but the stork has the tremendous beak and legs of
+surprising growth as well. His wings, too, are something more than
+respectable. At flying, at eating, at portentous solemnity of
+demeanour&mdash;in all these and in other things the pelican and the stork
+score fairly evenly; but at walking the pelican is left behind at once.
+This makes one suspect the stork's honesty. The pelican has a good beak
+and wings, and pays for them, like an honest bird, out of its legs, just
+as the ostrich pays for its neck and legs out of its wings. But the
+stork is abnormally lucky in beak, neck, legs, and wings together, and
+even then has material left to lay out in superfluous knobs and wens to
+hang round its neck, which leads to a suspicion that many of its
+personal fittings belong properly to some other bird. I've a notion that
+the unlucky kiwi might identify some of the property.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 435px;">
+<img src="images/image250-2.jpg" width="435" height="400" alt="THE PELICAN LEFT." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE PELICAN LEFT.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image250-3.jpg" width="500" height="252" alt="ARMY." title="" />
+<span class="caption">ARMY.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Perhaps the adjutant should be acknowledged king of the conkavians.
+Billy, the Zoo adjutant, has, I believe, no doubt on the subject at all.
+Billy is an ornament to the military profession&mdash;a very fine fellow,
+with a thing on the back of his neck like a Tangerine orange, and a wen
+on the front of it, which he can blow out whenever he wants to amuse
+himself, and everything else handsome about him. He is an old soldier,
+too, is Billy, having been Adjutant of the Regent's Park Conkavian Corps
+for seventeen years; but if you knew nothing of his age, still you would
+call Billy an old soldier&mdash;upon a little acquaintance with his habits.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/image251-3.jpg" width="350" height="283" alt="LAW." title="" />
+<span class="caption">LAW.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>There seems no valid reason why the professional aspirations of the
+stork should be restricted to the army. If an adjutant, why not a dean?
+Why not a proctor? There is the making of a most presentable don about a
+stork; and I have caught a stork in an attitude of judicial meditation
+that might do honour to any bench. There is no reason why "sober as a
+judge" should not be made to read "sober as a stork," except that the
+stork is the more solemn creature of the two; and I think that some
+species of stork&mdash;say the marabou, for instance&mdash;might fairly claim
+brevet rank as judge, after the example of the adjutant. The elevation
+of a beak to the bench might be considered an irregular piece of legal
+procedure; but, bless you, it's nothing unusual with a stork. Put any
+bench with something to eat on it anywhere within reach of a stork's
+beak in this place, and you shall witness that same elevation, precedent
+or no precedent.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 193px;">
+<img src="images/image251-1.jpg" width="193" height="350" alt="UNIVERSITIES." title="" />
+<span class="caption">UNIVERSITIES.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>A common white stork hasn't half the solid gravity of an adjutant or a
+marabou. He has a feline habit of expressing his displeasure by blowing
+and swearing&mdash;a habit bad and immoral in a cat, but worse in a stork
+accustomed to Church. Church, by-the-bye, is the keeper of all the
+conkavians, as well as of the herons, the flamingoes, the ibises, the
+egrets, and a number of other birds with names more difficult to spell.
+It is impossible to treat disrespectfully a man with such widespread
+responsibilities as this, or there might be a temptation to mention that
+he is not an unusually high Church, although his services are not always
+simple, often involving a matter of doctorin'. But, then, some people
+will say anything, temptation or none. And after all, it is pleasant to
+know that, whatever a stork or a pelican wants, he always goes to
+Church.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 277px;">
+<img src="images/image251-4.jpg" width="277" height="300" alt="SWEARING." title="" />
+<span class="caption">SWEARING.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 325px;">
+<img src="images/image251-2.jpg" width="325" height="370" alt="CHURCH." title="" />
+<span class="caption">CHURCH.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>This being the case, there is a proverb about cleanliness that makes one
+wonder why the marabou stork doesn't wash himself. It isn't as though he
+never wanted it. I have a horrible suspicion about this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> philosophic old
+sloven. I believe his profession of philosophic contemplation is
+assumed, because it is the easiest excuse for indolence. Now, a pelican
+is not a bird of graceful outline, but he <i>is</i> careful about his
+feathers. The pelican is a scrupulous old Dutchman, and the stork is an
+uncleanly old Hindu. And uncleanly he must be left, for it takes a deal
+to shame a stork. You can't shame a bird that wraps itself in a
+convenient philosophy. "Look here&mdash;look at me!" you can imagine a
+pelican cleanliness-missionary saying to the stork. "See how white and
+clean I keep all my feathers!" "Um," says the stork, "it only makes 'em
+a different colour." "But observe! I just comb through my pinions with
+my beak, so, and they all lie neat and straight!" "Well, and what's the
+good of that?" grunts the stork. "And then you see," says the pelican,
+ignoring the question, "with a good long beak you can reach everywhere,
+over your back and under your wings; see, I'm as clean under my wings as
+anywhere else, although it's covered up!" "Beastly vanity," growls the
+old Hindu, getting bored. "Then," continues the Dutchman, "you give
+yourself a good shake, and there you are!" "And then," says the
+philosopher sarcastically, "to-morrow, I suppose, you'll have to do it
+all over again?" "Of course!" "Oh! I hate a fool!" says the stork, and
+closes the lecture.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 549px;">
+<img src="images/image252.jpg" width="549" height="800" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Thus the marabou. The ordinary white stork is comparatively respectable,
+and so is the adjutant&mdash;or comparatively almost respectable, let us say;
+you can't be too cautious in giving a personal character to a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> stork.
+For long, long, the stork has enjoyed a reputation for solemn wisdom,
+for philosophical dignity. Now for the first time I venture to question
+this reputation&mdash;to impeach the stork as a humbug. It is easy to achieve
+a reputation for profound and ponderous wisdom, so long as one looks
+very solemn and says nothing. This is the stork's recipe. Go up to Billy
+here, or one of the marabous, as he stands with his shoulders humped up
+about his head, and make a joke. He won't see it. He will lift his
+eyebrows with a certain look of contempt, and continue to
+cogitate&mdash;about nothing. If the joke is a very bad pun&mdash;such a frightful
+pun that even a stork will see and resent it&mdash;perhaps he will chatter
+his beak savagely, with a noise like the clatter of the lid on an empty
+cigar-box; but he will continue his sham meditations. "Ah, my friend,"
+he seems to say, "you are empty and frivolous&mdash;I cogitate the profounder
+immensities of esoteric cogibundity." The fact being that he is very
+seedy after his previous night's dissipation.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 172px;">
+<img src="images/image253-1.jpg" width="172" height="400" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>That is the chief secret of the stork's solemnity, I am convinced. He
+has a certain reputation to maintain before visitors, but after hours,
+when the gates are shut and the keepers are not there to see, the
+marabou stork is a sad dog. I haven't quite made up my mind what he
+drinks, but if he has brandies and sodas he leaves out too much soda.
+Look at that awful nose! It is long past the crimson and pimply
+stage&mdash;it is taking a decided tinge of blue. It <i>looks</i> worse than
+brandy and soda&mdash;almost like bad gin&mdash;but we will be as charitable as
+possible, and only call it brandy and soda.</p>
+
+<p>I should like to see the marabou stork on his nightly ran-tan, if only
+to gloat over his lapse of dignity, just as one would give much to see
+Benjamin Franklin with his face blacked, drunk and disorderly and being
+locked up. But, as a shocking example, the marabou is quite bad enough
+with his awful head in the morning; his awful head and his disreputable
+nose, that looks to want a good scraping. I respect Billy, the adjutant,
+for his long service and the Tangerine at the back of his neck. The
+ordinary stork (although he swears and snaps) I also respect, because
+the goody books used to tell pious lies about him. The whale-headed
+stork, which is also called the shoe-bird, I respect as a sort of
+relative of the shoo-fly that didn't bother somebody. But the marabou
+has forfeited all respect&mdash;converted it into nose-tint. I must talk to
+Church seriously about the marabou.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 404px;">
+<img src="images/image253-2.jpg" width="404" height="450" alt="THE RAN-TAN." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE RAN-TAN.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Now, the pelican is no humbug. There is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> nothing like concealment about
+his little dissipations; and he is perfectly sober. Any little
+irregularity at the pelican club just opposite the eastern aviary never
+goes beyond a quiet round or two for a little fish dinner. It is quite a
+select and a most proper club. Indeed, the first rule is, that if any
+loose fish be found on the club premises, he is got rid of at once by
+the first member who detects him. And the club spirit is such that
+disputes frequently occur among members for the honour of carrying out
+this salutary rule. The chairman of the club is an old crested pelican,
+who, by some oversight, has never been provided with a private name of
+his own. I think he should be called Peter, because he can take such a
+miraculous draught of fishes. It <i>is</i> a draught; you know&mdash;a pelican
+doesn't eat fishes&mdash;he drinks them down in bulk. For Peter, a dozen or
+so fresh herrings is a mere swill round of the mouth.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image254-1.jpg" width="450" height="219" alt="A QUIET ROUND OR TWO." title="" />
+<span class="caption">A QUIET ROUND OR TWO.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Peter walks about the club premises with much dignity, deferred to on
+all sides by the other members. His kingship is rarely disputed, having
+been achieved by the sort of conquest most familiar in the pelican club;
+and his divine right is as much respected as his tremendous left.</p>
+
+<p>A pelican never bears malice; he hasn't time, especially now, with
+competition so keen in the fish business, and Church's fish pails only
+of the ordinary size. There is never any ill-feeling after a little
+spar, and each proceeds, in the most amicable way, to steal some other
+pelican's fish. A spar at this club, by-the-bye, is a joyous and
+hilarious sight. Two big birds with stumpy legs and top-heavy beaks,
+solemnly prancing and man&oelig;uvring before one another with an
+accompaniment of valiant gobbles and a punctuation of occasional
+pecks&mdash;a gleesome spectacle.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 335px;">
+<img src="images/image254-2.jpg" width="335" height="300" alt="PETER." title="" />
+<span class="caption">PETER.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 426px;">
+<img src="images/image254-3.jpg" width="426" height="300" alt="A SWILL ROUND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">A SWILL ROUND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Another sport much exhibited at the pelican club is that of
+the broadsword. The school of fence is that of Mr. Vincent
+Crummies&mdash;one&mdash;two&mdash;three&mdash;four&mdash;over; one&mdash;two&mdash;three&mdash;four&mdash;under.
+You<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> see, when a dozen or two birds with beaks a couple of feet long or
+so get together in a small area, and now and again rush all in the same
+direction for fish, fencing is certain to develop, sooner or later. So
+here you have it, <i>secundum artem</i>&mdash;one&mdash;two&mdash;three&mdash;four&mdash;over;
+one&mdash;two&mdash;three&mdash;four&mdash;under; and although none have yet attained the
+Crummleian degree of knocking out sparks, there is a deal of hollow
+noise, as of thumping on a wooden box. But there is never any
+after-malice, and in less than five minutes either combatant will
+swallow a fish rightfully belonging to the other, with perfect
+affability.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/image255-1.jpg" width="350" height="252" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image255-2.jpg" width="450" height="244" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 236px;">
+<img src="images/image255-3.jpg" width="236" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 357px;">
+<img src="images/image255-4.jpg" width="357" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>There is a good deal of the philosopher about the pelican, and of a more
+genuine sort than characterizes the stork. The pelican always makes the
+best of a bad job, without going into an unnecessary tantrum over it. If
+another member of the club snatches a fish first, the pelican doesn't
+bother, but devotes his attention to the next that Church throws; a fish
+in the pouch is worth a shoal in somebody else's. Now and again Peter
+loses his temper for a moment if the others catch the first snack, and
+lays about him with his bill&mdash;but then, when a fellow's chairman, and a
+lot of other fellows come snatching the lunch from under his nose&mdash;why,
+hang it all, you know.... But it is only for a moment, and Peter is soon
+in position for the next pouchful. He is artful about this position.
+When Church appears at the rails with a pailful of fish most of the
+members rush to those rails, jostle together and shove their beaks
+through them and over them&mdash;any way to get nearer the pail. But the
+chairman<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> knows very well that Church doesn't throw the fish outside the
+rails, but into the inclosure, somewhere near the middle; and near the
+middle the sagacious Peter waits, to his early profit&mdash;unless Church is
+unusually slow about throwing the fish, in which case Peter is apt to
+let his excitement steal his sagacity, and to rush into the pell-mell,
+anxious to investigate the delay.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 341px;">
+<img src="images/image256-1.jpg" width="341" height="350" alt="A LITTLE SOLEING AND HEELING." title="" />
+<span class="caption">A LITTLE SOLEING AND HEELING.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>There is a deal of excellent wear in a pelican. One has been here about
+thirty years, and two more have been established on the same premises
+for a quarter of a century. All these three are in capital working
+repair and will probably last, with a patch or two, and a little soleing
+and heeling, for a century or two more; no respectable pelican is ever
+bowled out for less than three figures.</p>
+
+<p>In the winter the club takes up its quarters in the shed behind the
+inclosure; a shed sumptuously furnished with certain benches and forms,
+whereon the club stands in rows, with a general appearance of a number
+of very solemn naughty boys in a Board school. In winter, too, Church
+will often put his bucketful of fish on the ground, so that the club may
+dine in a clubbier way. But whether you watch this club feeding together
+from the pail, each member doing his best to put away the whole pailful
+at a gulp, or whether you observe them playing a sort of greedy game of
+lacrosse with fish which Church throws them, you will be equally amazed
+that the pelican was used as a symbol of charity and brotherly love in
+early and middle Christian art.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/image256-2.jpg" width="400" height="240" alt="SCHOOL." title="" />
+<span class="caption">SCHOOL.</span>
+</div><p><br /><br /></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/image256-3.jpg" width="400" height="212" alt="CLUB DINNER." title="" />
+<span class="caption">CLUB DINNER.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>I have seen a pelican enact a most instructive moral lesson at a
+pail-dinner. Observe the bill and pouch of a pelican. The pouch is an
+elastic fishing-net, and the lower mandible is a mere flexible frame to
+carry it. Now, I have observed a pelican to make a bounce at the
+fish-pail, with outspread wings, and scoop the whole supply. But then
+his trouble began. The whole catch hung weightily low in the end of the
+pouch, and jerk and heave as he might, he could never lift the load at
+the end of that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> long beak sufficiently high to bolt it. Meanwhile, his
+friends collected about him and remonstrated, with many flops and
+gobbles, betting him all his fish to nothing that he would lose it after
+all; this way they chased that bag, and that way, while the bagger, in
+much trepidation and with many desperate heaves, wildly sought remote
+corners away from his persecutors. Now, by the corner of the club
+premises stands an appliance, the emblem of authority, the instrument of
+justice, and the terror of the evilly-disposed pelican&mdash;a birch-broom.
+This, brandished in the hands of Church, caused a sudden and awful
+collapse of the drag-nets, an opening, a shower of fish and many snaps;
+wherefrom walked away many pelicans with fish, and one with none, who
+had looked to take all. The moral is plain to the verge of ugliness.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/image257-1.jpg" width="250" height="233" alt="." title="" />
+<span class="caption">.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 321px;">
+<img src="images/image257-1a.jpg" width="321" height="300" alt="." title="" />
+<span class="caption">.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 358px;">
+<img src="images/image257-2.jpg" width="358" height="200" alt="." title="" />
+<span class="caption">.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image257-3.jpg" width="450" height="361" alt="." title="" />
+<span class="caption">.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>A pelican has no tongue&mdash;or none to speak of. It is a mere little knob
+scarcely the size of a cherry. The long, long meditations of the pelican
+(lasting between feeding times) are given up to consideration whether or
+not the disgrace of this deficiency is counter-balanced by the greater
+capacity for fish which it gives the pouch. After all, it is only
+another instance of that commercial honesty which makes the pelican pay
+for his beak out of his legs; he gives his tongue for a pouch. There
+should be a legend of the pelican applying honestly to Adam to buy a
+pouch, and the wily stork waiting and waiting on the chance of snatching
+one without paying for it, until all had been served out; afterwards
+living all its life<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> on earth in covetous dudgeon, unconsoled by its
+wealth of beak, legs, wings, and neck, and pining hopelessly for the
+lost pouch. There are many legends of this sort which ought to exist,
+but don't, owing to the negligence of Indian solar myth merchants, or
+whoever it is has charge of that class of misrepresentation.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image258-1.jpg" width="500" height="116" alt="." title="" />
+<span class="caption">.</span>
+</div>
+<div class="figright" style="width: 210px;">
+<img src="images/image258-2.jpg" width="210" height="600" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+<p>The pelican can fly, although you would never believe it, to look at the
+club members here. To a Zoo pelican a flight of two feet is an
+undertaking to be approached with much circumspection and preparation,
+and a summoning of resolution and screwing of courage proper to the
+magnitude of the feat. It takes a long time to learn to fly on to a
+bottom-up bucket. The Zoo pelican begins on a shadow&mdash;not a very dark
+one at first&mdash;and works his way up by jumping over, darker shadows to
+straws and pebbles, before he tries a bucket. The accomplished
+bucket-jumper makes a long preliminary survey and circumnavigation of
+his bucket before performing, and when he does begin it is with a number
+of wild rushes and irresolute stops. When at last he gets the proper
+length of run, and the right foot in front, and doesn't see anything to
+baulk him, he rises with a great effort, and all the lookers-on who
+don't know him stare up over the trees, and are astonished to find him,
+after all, only on the bucket. His pinions are cut, poor fellow! If they
+were not, what would become of the fishmongers' shops?</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Shafts_from_an_Eastern_Quiver" id="Shafts_from_an_Eastern_Quiver"></a><i>Shafts from an Eastern Quiver</i>.</h2>
+
+<h3>IX.&mdash;MAW-SAYAH: THE KEEPER OF THE GREAT BURMAN NAT.</h3>
+
+<h3>By Charles J. Mansford, B.A.</h3>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+<p>"The fine points of an elephant, sahib," said our guide Hassan, "are a
+colour approaching to white, the nails perfectly black, and an intact
+tail."</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad to hear that an elephant has some qualities which recommend
+it," said Denviers, good-humouredly. "I should think that the one upon
+which we are riding is about as lazy as it is possible to be. I suppose
+slowness is an unusually good point, isn't it, Hassan?" The Arab, who
+was sitting before us on the elephant, gave it a stir with the
+sharply-pointed spear which he held in his hand to urge it on, and then
+glancing back at us, as we reclined lazily in the cushioned howdah, he
+said inquiringly: "Are the sahibs tired already of travelling thus? Yet
+we have fully two hours' journey before us."</p>
+
+<p>"Hassan," I interposed, "this is a good opportunity for you to tell us
+exactly what you heard about that Maw-Sayah when we were at Bhamo. It is
+in consequence of that, indeed, that we are going to try to get among
+these strange Kachyens; but as we are not quite sure of the details, you
+may as well repeat them."</p>
+
+<p>"The sahib shall be obeyed," responded our guide, and although careful
+to keep a good watch in front, he turned his body slightly towards us as
+he prepared to begin the narrative.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 372px;">
+<img src="images/image259.jpg" width="372" height="450" alt="&quot;THE SAHIB SHALL BE OBEYED.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THE SAHIB SHALL BE OBEYED.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>On reaching Burmah we stayed for several days in Rangoon, the Queen of
+the East as it is called nowadays, although only remarkable formerly for
+its famous monasteries of Talapoins and as a halting-place for the bands
+of pilgrims on their way to the mighty Shway Dagohn pagoda. Thence we
+journeyed up the Irawaddy, and having duly paid reverence to some of the
+nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine pagodas of Pagan&mdash;the outcast
+slaves of which city seemed a strange contrast to its otherwise absolute
+desertion&mdash;we continued our journey by steamer as far as Mandalay.
+Having endured the doubtful pleasure of a jaunt in a seatless, jolting
+bullock-carriage&mdash;the bruises from which were not easily forgotten&mdash;we
+eventually reached Bhamo, where Hassan entered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> into conversation with a
+hill-man. From the latter he learnt a strange story, which was later on
+told to us and the truth of which we hoped before long to fully test,
+for soon afterwards we set out on an elephant, our faithful guide in
+this new adventure again proving himself of the greatest service.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Hassan," said Denviers, "we are quite ready to hear this story
+fully, but don't add any imaginary details of your own."</p>
+
+<p>"By the Koran, sahib," began the Arab, "these are the words which were
+those of him to whom I spoke under the shade of the log stockade."</p>
+
+<p>"Which are, of course, unimpeachable," responded Denviers. "Anyone could
+tell that from his shifty eyes, which failed to rest upon us fixed even
+for a minute when we spoke to him afterwards." The Arab seemed a little
+disconcerted at this, but soon continued:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"The great Spirits or Nats, who guard the prosperity of Burmah, have
+become greatly incensed with the Kachyens, not because they failed to
+resist stoutly when the monarch was deposed a few years ago&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Then we are to have a modern story, this time, Hassan?" interrupted
+Denviers. "I quite expected that you would commence with some long
+worn-out tradition."</p>
+
+<p>"The sahibs shall hear," the Arab went on. "No one who offends the Nats
+of Burmah need expect anything but evil to follow. There are the Nats of
+the sky, the Nats of the earth, the Nats of the Irawaddy, the Nats of
+the five hundred little rivers, and the thousand Nats which guarded the
+sacred person of the monarch&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Hassan," said Denviers, impatiently, "you mentioned them all
+before. We haven't time to hear the list enumerated now; go on about
+this one particular Nat which you say is causing such havoc among the
+hill-tribes."</p>
+
+<p>"Patience, sahib. The Nats were justly roused to anger because the
+deposed monarch was not afterwards taken to the water's edge riding upon
+an elephant instead of in a bullock-carriage."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Hassan," said Denviers, "judging from our own experience the Nats
+seem to be pretty sensible, I must say&mdash;but how do they affect the peace
+of mind of the Kachyens?"</p>
+
+<p>"Listen, sahib. High among the hills which may be seen stretching before
+us lies a village in which many of the Kachyens dwell, their occupation
+being sometimes that of tillers of the land, but more often consisting
+in planning and carrying out raids upon other hill-men, or of descending
+at times to the plains, and there looting the towns wherein dwell more
+peaceable tribes. In all their forays they had been successful, for
+whenever their trusty dahs or swords were drawn, those who opposed them
+invariably obtained the worst of the encounter. So powerful did they
+become that at last those dwelling in the plains&mdash;Shans, Karenns, and
+Talaings, too&mdash;made no resistance against their attacks; and when they
+saw the produce of their fields carried away, thought themselves happy
+not to have been slain. The reason why the Kachyens became so successful
+in all they undertook was that a powerful forest Nat placed them under
+its protection, and hence they could not be harmed by their foes.</p>
+
+<p>"Now it chanced that the King was in great danger through following the
+advice of his impetuous ministers, whereupon he summoned the Kachyens to
+his assistance&mdash;for their fame as warriors had reached his ears long
+before. But they, confident of securing their own safety whatever
+happened to the monarch, refused to obey his command to march against
+the Burman foes. The consequence was that when the indignity which I
+have mentioned was offered to the deposed monarch, the Nats throughout
+Burmah were furious with that one who ruled the village in which the
+Kachyens dwelt, and they sent some of their number to destroy it. The
+latter, however, appeased them by making a grim promise, which has been
+only too faithfully kept.</p>
+
+<p>"A few days afterwards a hill-man, who was clearing a part of the land
+on the woody slope of the height, <i>saw the Nat</i>, which had never before
+been visible, and, terrified at the strange form which it had assumed,
+he ran hastily to the rest of the tribe, and, gathering them together,
+held a consultation as to what should be done to appease it. Some
+suggested that upon every tree trunk should be scratched appealing
+messages, which the Nat might read; others were in favour of placing a
+huge heap of spears and swords near the spot where the embodied Nat had
+been seen in order that it might be tempted to destroy all those who
+urged it to injure them. The messages and weapons, however, when placed
+for the Nat to observe did no good, for one dreadful night a rattling
+was heard of the bamboos, which lay before one of the Kachyen's huts,
+and the man, going hastily to see what caused it, was swiftly carried
+away in the darkness without apparently uttering a single cry! For many
+nights in succession a similar scene was enacted, for he at whose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> door
+the dire summons came dared not refuse to answer it lest the whole
+household might perish.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing more was ever seen of those thus strangely carried off, and the
+Kachyens, each of whom feared that his own end might come next,
+determined to consult some famous Buddhist priests who dwelt not far
+from them, and who held charge over the famous marble slabs which the
+great War Prince of Burmah had caused to be engraved concerning their
+illustrious traditions. The man whom ye saw me conversing with by the
+stockade was the one whom the tribe intrusted with the task; but the
+priests, after much consideration among themselves of the object of his
+visit, refused to have anything to do with such a tragic affair, and
+thereupon dismissed their suppliant.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 412px;">
+<img src="images/image261.jpg" width="412" height="400" alt="&quot;THE BUDDHIST PRIESTS.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THE BUDDHIST PRIESTS.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"This Kachyen, when sorrowfully returning towards the hills, fearing
+that the tribe would destroy him because of his non-success, chanced to
+meet on his way a Mogul, to whom he repeated the story. The latter,
+laying his hand on his red-dyed and fierce-looking beard, advised the
+Kachyen to enter a hole in the mountain side and to consult a famous
+Maw-Sayah, or juggler, who dwelt there. This juggler promised assistance
+if the tribe would pay him a great reward in the event of his success,
+and when they agreed to this he entered the village and waited for dusk
+to arrive. Again the dreadful rattling was heard, and another Kachyen
+stepped out to meet his fate. None of the tribe dared to look at what
+transpired, except the juggler, and he too disappeared! The next
+morning, however, he came into the village and called its inhabitants
+together. When they had solemnly agreed to his conditions, he stated
+that the Nat was bent upon destroying them all, and that to attempt to
+escape by means of flight would only lead to quicker death. Then he told
+them what the result of his intercession for them had been.</p>
+
+<p>"The Nat had been persuaded to destroy only one victim on each seventh
+evening at dusk, and had appointed him to see that certain conditions
+were not broken. He was to have a hut at his disposal, and into this the
+men were to go by lot, and thus the Nat would obtain a victim when the
+time came round. They were forbidden to wander about after sunset, and
+whatever noises were made not to hearken to them, since the Maw-Sayah
+would see that the others were unharmed. So long had this dreadful
+destruction lasted that more than one-half of the men in the Kachyen
+village, or town, as it might well be called from the large number who
+inhabited it, had perished, and yet the Nat still demanded a victim, and
+the Maw-Sayah is there to see that the compact is fulfilled. The man who
+told this story, sahibs, declares that the keeper of the Nat has by this
+means obtained sway over the Kachyens to such an extent that they have
+become his abject slaves, for the custom of drawing lots has been
+abolished, and he selects whom he will to sacrifice to the Nat. By some
+means this Kachyen offended the Maw-Sayah, who thereupon condemned him,
+but he, in terror of the sudden and silent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> death in store for him, fled
+to Bhamo, where he lives in momentary fear of destruction. Such then,
+sahibs, is the story, and it is to see this Maw-Sayah and the Nat at
+their fell work to-night that even now our faces are turned to the high
+land before us, up which we must climb, for there is but one narrow
+pathway leading to the village."</p>
+
+<p>Hassan ceased, and then Denviers turned to me as he said:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I think that this Maw-Sayah, as Hassan calls him, has about as much
+faith in Nats as we have. It suits his purpose to league himself with
+something mysterious; whatever it is we will try to find out," and he
+glanced at the weapons which we carried.</p>
+
+
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+<p>"The sahibs must dismount here", said Hassan shortly afterwards, and
+following to the ground our guide, we began to climb the mountain path
+which stretched before us. The ascent was exceedingly steep, and several
+times we stopped to rest after pushing our way through the tangled
+masses which almost hid the path, which was itself cut here and there
+apparently through the rocky strata. When we had reached about
+three-fourths of our journey Hassan stopped and pointed out to us one of
+the thatched roofs of a hut, which seemed in the distance scarcely
+noticeable until his keen eyesight discovered it. The village, we found,
+lay a little to the left of the mountain path, for on nearing the summit
+we found ourselves passing through a peculiar avenue of trees
+interspersed with long bamboo poles. From the tops of the latter there
+were stretched across the approach strong, rough-looking cords, which
+supported various uncouth emblems, and among which were large triangles,
+circles, and stars, cut apparently out of the stems of huge bamboos.
+After traversing this avenue for nearly three hundred yards we saw the
+tree trunks which Hassan had mentioned, and which were deeply scarred
+with cabalistic messages to the fierce Nat, which we could not of course
+understand. Affixed to some of the trees farther on we saw a number of
+spears and dahs mingled with shorter weapons, the latter being made of
+some species of hard wood, and close to them we observed the skulls of
+several large animals, one of which we judged was that of an elephant.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 298px;">
+<img src="images/image262.jpg" width="298" height="450" alt="&quot;THE AVENUE.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THE AVENUE.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>In spite of the fact that the village was a large one, the buildings
+were of a very primitive construction, being made of bamboos with
+thatched coverings, reaching almost to the piles on which the huts were
+placed. We did not observe any openings made to serve as windows, the
+only ones noticeable being those by which the Kachyens entered, placed
+above a bamboo ladder, which seemed to, serve instead of steps. Although
+the sun had scarcely set, the village was wrapped in a strange silence,
+the sound of our footsteps alone being heard. The smoke that seemed to
+be forcing its way through stray holes in the thatch amply convinced us,
+however, that the inhabitants were within doors, and, turning to our
+Arab guide, I asked him if he could distinguish among the many huts the
+one in which we expected to find the Maw-Sayah. He seemed a little
+uncertain at first, but after wandering through the village together we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span>
+returned, and then Hassan, who had been very observant the whole time,
+pointed to one of the rudely-constructed huts and said:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I think that is the one into which we seek to enter; it is situated
+according to the position in which the Kachyen said it was, and,
+besides, it bears a strange proof of the story which ye have listened to
+with such ill-concealed disbelief."</p>
+
+<p>"Why do you think that is the hut, Hassan?" I asked, for, to my eyes, no
+difference between that and the others close to it was distinguishable.</p>
+
+<p>"If the sahib will look at the bamboo ladder and observe it carefully,
+he will see that it is unlike the others round," said the Arab.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you refer to these deep scratches upon it, don't you,
+Hassan?" asked Denviers, as he pointed to some marks, a few of which
+were apparently fairly recent.</p>
+
+<p>"The sahib guesses rightly," answered our guide. "You will remember that
+the Kachyen stated to me that the Nat is accustomed to obtain its victim
+now from the abode of the Maw-Sayah; those marks, then, have been made
+by it when it dragged its human prey out of the hut." We gazed curiously
+at the marks for a few minutes, then Denviers broke the silence by
+asking the Arab why it was that the Nat made marks at all.</p>
+
+<p>"I should have thought that such a powerful spirit could prevent such
+evidences of its presence becoming observed," he continued. "My respect
+for it is certainly not increased by seeing those deep scars; they seem
+to be made by something which has sharp claws."</p>
+
+<p>"That is because of the shape which it has assumed, sahib," said the
+Arab, "for the Nats have wondrous powers&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Very likely, Hassan," interposed Denviers; "I suppose they can do
+exactly what they like, can they not?" I was much surprised at the limit
+which was, however, placed upon their powers by our guide, for he
+responded quickly:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Not altogether, sahib. There is one thing that a Nat cannot do,
+according to the reports of these Kachyens, and that is, they are unable
+to move in a direction which is not straight, and hence they are careful
+to avoid rough ground, where tangled masses and boulders bar their
+progress, so they usually frequent the open avenues, such as the one
+which we have just passed through. The symbols above it and the writings
+and weapons are all for the Nat's benefit."</p>
+
+<p>"And the elephant's skull?" asked Denviers, irreverently. "What is that
+put up for?" The Arab, however, had an explanation ready, for he
+promptly replied:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"That indicates where the supplies of food are to be found when the Nat
+requires any." Denviers turned to me for a moment as he said:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I should have thought it a good plan, then, to have put it upon the hut
+of this Maw-Sayah whom we are about to interview. See that your weapons
+are in good order, Harold, we may soon need them." Giving a cautious
+look at my belt and the weapons thrust into it, I followed Denviers, who
+had mounted the short bamboo ladder, and was endeavouring to obtain
+admission to the hut. We heard a harsh sound within, then the cry of
+someone apparently terror-stricken, and a moment afterwards we had
+pushed past the Maw-Sayah, who by no means was willing to allow us to
+enter the rude dwelling.</p>
+
+<p>The single room, which seemed to constitute the hut, was extremely low
+and bare of furniture entirely. A few bamboos were spread in one part of
+it, while at the far end was a fire, the light from which was partly
+obscured by the smoke, which almost suffocated us, so thickly did it
+roll up and then spread through the hut. Near the door stood a man
+scarcely clothed, upon whose face we saw a look of the most abject
+terror, for, as we surmised, the noise of our entry was mistaken by him
+for the approach of the fell thing to which he was condemned by the
+Maw-Sayah. We moved towards the latter as he threw himself down by the
+fire, which he had only left to see who it was that came unbidden to the
+hut where to enter was the preceding event to death. He was clothed in a
+long blue strip of linen, which wound round his waist and covered his
+body, partly leaving his dark chest uncovered. His features were stamped
+with an appearance of supreme cunning, his oblique eyes reminding us of
+a Chinaman, while the fierce look in them as they glared at us from
+either side of an aquiline nose, which betrayed his Burmese descent, did
+not increase our confidence in the man as he stretched out his bony
+hands over the fire as if for warmth, although outside the hut we had
+found the heat almost insupportable.</p>
+
+<p>"What do ye seek?" he demanded, as he looked into our faces in turn and
+seemed astonished at our strange features.</p>
+
+<p>"We are travellers who wished to see a Kachyen village," responded
+Denviers, "and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> we further desired to see some of its inhabitants; but
+as none were visible we entered this hut, even against your will. Where
+are the people who dwell here?" The man whom my companion addressed
+pointed to the Kachyen near the doorway, as he responded:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"There is one of them, and in a short time even he will never be seen
+again."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image264.jpg" width="450" height="371" alt="&quot;WHAT DO YE SEEK?&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;WHAT DO YE SEEK?&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Can you give us food?" hazarded Hassan, in order to get the man to
+continue his conversation, for the Arab evidently was expecting that the
+Nat would soon arrive upon the scene. The Maw-Sayah rose and pointed to
+the entrance as he cried:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"That way ye came, that way shall ye depart. Food for ye I have not, nor
+would I give it if I had." I turned to Denviers and said in a low
+tone:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"What shall we do, Frank? I don't think our opportunity of seeing what
+may transpire will be as good within the hut as without it. Whatever the
+solution is to this affair, if we are outside we shall see this Kachyen
+dragged away, and may further watch the approach of whatever caused
+those strange marks which we observed."</p>
+
+<p>"One thing is clear," said my companion, "we will attempt to save this
+intended victim, at all events. I expect that if we tried we could get
+him away easily enough, but that plan would not be of much service. We
+must attack this being, whatever it is, with which this Maw-Sayah is
+leagued. How I should like to hand him over as a victim instead of that
+trembling captive by the door. It shows to what extent this juggler has
+acquired power over this tribe, for I notice that his captive is
+unbound, and is certainly a much finer built man than the other."</p>
+
+<p>"It wants less than an hour to dusk, sahibs," said Hassan, who had
+listened carefully to our remarks; "if we were to station ourselves a
+little away from the hut we could see what took place, and if the Nat
+were mortal we might attack it."</p>
+
+<p>Denviers shrugged his shoulders at the Arab's supposition as he
+responded:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"There is little doubt, Hassan, that the Nat would smart if that keen
+blade of yours went a little too near it, but I think your plan is a
+good one, and we will adopt it, as it falls in with what has already
+been said." We gave a final look at the crafty face of the man who was
+still seated by the fire, and then brushing past the captive we made for
+the open village again.</p>
+
+<p>"I feel sorry for this Kachyen," said Denviers. "He will have a dreadful
+five minutes of it, I expect; but it is our only way of preventing, if
+possible, such an affair from occurring again." On leaving the hut we
+stationed ourselves almost opposite to it, and then began to keep watch.
+What we should see pass up the avenue we could only surmise, but our
+suppositions certainly did not lead us to imagine in the faintest degree
+the sight which before long was destined to completely startle us.</p>
+
+
+<h4>III.</h4>
+
+<p>The grey dusk was becoming night when among the dark stems of the trees
+we saw some black form move over the ground. We could scarcely
+distinguish it as it crawled over the bamboo logs and made a rasping<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span>
+noise as it clung to the ladder. The door of the hut yielded to it, and
+a minute after it again emerged and bore with it the terrified Kachyen.
+We crept after it as it dragged its captive down the avenue, striving
+our utmost to make out its shape. One thing we could tell, which was
+that the creature was not upright; but our movement behind it was
+apparently known, for it struggled to move quicker over the ground with
+its human burden.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 371px;">
+<img src="images/image265.jpg" width="371" height="450" alt="&quot;IT AGAIN EMERGED.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;IT AGAIN EMERGED.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Shall I shoot it?" I whispered to Denviers, as my nerves seemed to be
+almost unstrung at the unknowableness of the creeping thing.</p>
+
+<p>"You would more likely kill the man," he responded. "Follow as
+noiselessly as you can&mdash;it will not let its prey escape, be sure of
+that. Once we track it to its haunt we will soon dispatch it, big and
+fierce as it seems."</p>
+
+<p>We drew nearer and nearer to it, until it had passed half-way down the
+avenue, then it seemed to become lost to our view, although we were, as
+we knew, close to it. I felt Denviers' hand upon my shoulder, and then
+he whispered:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"The Kachyen is being dragged up a tree just in front&mdash;look!" I could
+just distinguish something moving up the trunk, when suddenly the
+captive, who had hitherto been apparently paralyzed with terror, uttered
+a cry and then must have succeeded in disengaging himself from the
+dreadful thing that had held him, for the noise of someone falling to
+the ground was heard, and a minute after we distinguished the form of a
+man rushing headlong back to the village for safety.</p>
+
+<p>We did not anticipate such an event, and were contemplating a search for
+the captor of the Kachyen, when a cold sweat broke out upon me, for the
+clammy claws of the man-hunter had touched me! The sensation which
+seized me was only of short duration, for I felt myself released just as
+Denviers said:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Harold, the Kachyen has fled, and his captor, determined to secure its
+prey, has betaken its crawling body after him. If only we had a light! I
+saw something like a black shadow moving onwards; get your pistol ready
+and follow." I just distinguished Denviers as he passed on in front of
+me, Hassan coming last. When we reached the hut of the Maw-Sayah we
+stopped at once, for, from the cry which came from it, we rightly
+surmised that the terrible seeker for human prey had made for this
+place, thinking, in its dull intelligence, that its captive had
+returned. We thrust ourselves into the hut, and saw by the red firelight
+a sanguinary contest between the Maw-Sayah and the black object which we
+had endeavoured to track. Thinking that the Kachyen was being destroyed,
+the juggler had not fastened his door, and the enraged man-eater had
+seized him as he rested on the ground, quite at its mercy!</p>
+
+<p>The Maw-Sayah was struggling with his bony hands to extricate himself
+from the clutches of a monstrous tree-spider! We had seen, on an island
+in the South Seas, several cocoa-nut crabs, and this reptile somewhat
+resembled them, but was even larger. Grasping the juggler with several
+of its long, furry-looking claws, it fixed its glaring red eyes in mad
+anger upon him as he grasped in each<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> hand one of its front pair of
+legs, which were armed with strong, heavy-looking pincers. He besought
+us wildly to shoot, even if we killed him, held as he was by his
+relentless foe.</p>
+
+<p>"Harold," cried my companion, "keep clear, and look out for yourself
+when I fire at this reptile; most likely it will make for one of us." He
+drew right close to it, and thrusting the barrel of his pistol between
+its eyes touched the trigger. The explosion shook the hut, its effect
+upon the spider being to cause it to rush frantically about the floor,
+dragging the Maw-Sayah as if he were some slight burden scarcely
+observable.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image266.jpg" width="450" height="320" alt="&quot;A RELENTLESS FOE.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;A RELENTLESS FOE.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"You missed it!" I cried. "Look out, Hassan, guard the doorway!" The
+Arab stood, sword in hand, waiting for it to make for the entrance,
+while Denviers exclaimed:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I shot it through the head!" and a minute afterwards the trueness of
+his aim was manifest, for the claws released, and the Maw-Sayah, wounded
+badly, but saved, stood free from the muscular twitchings of the dead
+spider.</p>
+
+<p>"You scoundrel!" said Denviers to him, "I have a good mind to serve you
+the same. You deserve to die as so many of these simple-minded,
+credulous Kachyens have done." I thought for one brief second that my
+companion was about to kill the juggler, for through all our adventures
+I had never seen him so thoroughly roused. I stood between them; then,
+when Denviers quickly recovered his self-command, I turned to the
+Maw-Sayah and asked:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"If we spare your life, will you promise to leave this village and never
+to return?" He turned his evil-looking but scared face towards us
+eagerly as he replied:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I will do whatever you wish." Denviers motioned to him to rest upon the
+ground, which he did, then turning to me, said:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"It is pretty apparent what this juggler has done. The man who first
+reported the discovery of this Nat, as the foolish Kachyens call it,
+simply disturbed a monstrous spider which had lived in the trees which
+he felled&mdash;that accounts for his seeing it. Finding animal food scarce,
+the reptile ventured into this village and tried to get into one of the
+huts. Its exertions were rewarded by the Kachyen coming to the door,
+whom it accordingly seized. To continue its plan, which proved so
+successful, needed very little reasoning power on the part of such a
+cunning creature. No doubt this Maw-Sayah purposely left the door of his
+hut unfastened each seventh night, and the spider thus became accustomed
+to seek for its victim there, I daresay it came the other nights, but
+the juggler was then careful enough to keep his hut well fastened."</p>
+
+<p>"What do the sahibs propose to do?" interrupted Hassan. Denviers turned
+to him, as he responded:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"We will wait for daybreak; then, having dragged the dead spider out
+where the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> Kachyens may see that it is no longer able to harm them, we
+will take this Maw-Sayah down the mountain path away from the village as
+poor as he came."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 422px;">
+<img src="images/image267.jpg" width="422" height="373" alt="&quot;YOU SCOUNDREL!&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;YOU SCOUNDREL!&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"A good plan," I assented, and we followed it out, eventually leaving
+the juggler, and climbing once more into the howdah upon the elephant,
+which we found close to the spot where we had left it, secured from
+wandering far away by the rope which Hassan had used to hinder its
+movements.</p>
+
+<p>We entered Bhamo, and while we took a much-needed rest, our guide&mdash;as we
+afterwards learnt&mdash;searched for and found the fugitive Kachyen, who, on
+hearing that his safety was secured, hastily departed to the village to
+rejoice with the rest of his tribe that the so-called Nat would not do
+them any more injury.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="From_Behind_the_Speakers_Chair" id="From_Behind_the_Speakers_Chair"></a><i>From Behind the Speaker's Chair.</i></h2>
+
+<h3>III.</h3>
+
+<h3>(VIEWED BY HENRY W. LUCY.)</h3>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image268-1.jpg" width="450" height="174" alt="&quot;OBSTRUCTION.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;OBSTRUCTION.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>It is thirteen years since a new Parliament last blithely started on its
+way with Mr. Gladstone sitting in the seat of the Premier. Since March,
+1880, a great deal has happened, not least in the change of
+circumstances under which the business of the House of Commons is
+conducted. The majority of the House of Commons may be Liberal or
+Conservative, according to a passing flood of conviction on the part of
+the constituencies. When presumptuous hands are stretched forth to touch
+the Ark of its procedure, its instincts are all Tory. For more than two
+hundred years preceding the advent of a Tory Ministry in 1886, this was
+so. Mr. Gladstone, driven to desperation in the second Session of the
+Parliament of 1880-5, endeavoured to reform procedure so that
+obstruction might be fought on even terms. He was met by such resolute
+and persistent opposition from the Conservative side that, even with an
+overwhelming majority at his back, he succeeded only in tinkering the
+pot. Oddly enough, it was left for the Conservatives when they came into
+office to revolutionize the system upon which, through the ages,
+Parliamentary business had been carried on.</p>
+
+<p>There was nothing in the reforms more startling to the old
+Parliamentarian than the proposal automatically to close debate at
+midnight. A dozen years ago members of the House of Commons assembled at
+four o'clock for prayers. Questions began at half-past four, and no one
+could say at what hour of the night or of the next morning the cry "Who
+goes home?" might echo through the lobby. In those days Mr. O'Donnell
+was master of the situation, and he had many imitators. A debate carried
+on through several nights might seem to be approaching a conclusion. The
+Leader of the Opposition, rising between eleven o'clock and midnight,
+spoke in a crowded House. The Premier, or his lieutenant, followed,
+assuming to wind up the debate. Members wearied of the long sitting were
+prepared to go forth to the division lobby; when from below the gangway
+on the left there uprose a familiar figure, and there was heard a
+well-known voice.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 342px;">
+<img src="images/image268-2.jpg" width="342" height="350" alt="F. H. O&#39;DONNELL." title="" />
+<span class="caption">F. H. O&#39;DONNELL.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>These usually belonged to Mr. O'Donnell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> bent upon vindicating the right
+of a private member to interpose when the constituted authorities of the
+House had agreed in the opinion that a debate had been continued long
+enough. A roar of execration from the fagged legislators greeted the
+intruder. He expected this, and was in no degree perturbed. In earliest
+practice he had a way of dropping his eye-glass as if startled by the
+uproar, and searched for it with puzzled, preoccupied expression,
+apparently debating with himself what this outburst might portend. He
+did not love the British House of Commons, and delighted in thwarting
+its purposes. But he knew what was due to it in the way of respect, and,
+however angry passions might rise, however turbulent the scene, he would
+never address it looking upon it with the naked eye. As his eye-glass
+was constantly tumbling out, and as search for it was preternaturally
+deliberate, it played an appreciable part in the prolongation of
+successive Sessions.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 244px;">
+<img src="images/image269-1.jpg" width="244" height="250" alt="&quot;EYE-GLASS PLAY.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;EYE-GLASS PLAY.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>What has become of Frank Hugh now, I wonder? Vanishing from the House of
+Commons, he reappeared for a while on the scene, characteristically
+acting the part of the petrel that heralded the storm Mr. Pigott
+ineffectively tried to ride. It must be a consolation to Mr. O'Donnell,
+in his retirement, wherever it is passed, to reflect on the fact that it
+was he who directly brought about the appointment of the Parnell
+Commission, with all it effected. His action for libel brought against
+the <i>Times</i> preluded and inevitably led up to the formal investigation
+of the famous Charges and Allegations.</p>
+
+<p>The member for Dungarvan was, in his day, the most thoroughly disliked
+man in the House of Commons, distaste for Mr. Parnell and for Mr. Biggar
+in his early prime being softened by contrast with his subtler
+provocation. An exceedingly clever debater, he was a phrase maker, some
+of whose epigrams Mr. Disraeli would not have disowned. He was a
+parliamentary type of ancient standing, and apparently ineradicable
+growth. In the present House of Commons fresh developments are presented
+by Mr. Seymour Keay and Mr. Morton. These are distinct varieties, but
+from the unmistakable root. Both are gifted with boundless volubility,
+unhampered by ordinary considerations of coherency and cogency. Neither
+is influenced by that sense of the dread majesty of the House of Commons
+which keeps some members dumb all through their parliamentary life, and
+to the last, as in the case of Mr. Bright, weighs upon even great
+orators. The difference between the older and the new development is
+that whilst over Mr. O'Donnell's intentional and deliberate vacuity of
+speech there gleamed frequent flashes of wit, Mr. Morton and Mr. Keay
+are only occasionally funny, and then the effect was undesigned.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 233px;">
+<img src="images/image269-2.jpg" width="233" height="400" alt="O&#39;DONNELL&#39;S LAST APPEARANCE." title="" />
+<span class="caption">O&#39;DONNELL&#39;S LAST APPEARANCE.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 152px;">
+<img src="images/image269-3.jpg" width="152" height="350" alt="MR. SEYMOUR KEAY." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MR. SEYMOUR KEAY.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Since we have these two gentlemen still with us, it would be rash to say
+that if Mr. O'Donnell could revisit the glimpses of Big Ben he would
+find his occupation gone. He would certainly discover that his
+opportunities had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> been limited, and would have to recommence practice
+under greatly altered conditions. One of the former member for
+Dungarvan's famous achievements took place in the infancy of the
+Parliament of 1880-5, and, apart from its dramatic interest, is valuable
+as illustrating the change effected in parliamentary procedure by the
+New Rules. On that particular June night the paper was loaded with
+questions in a fashion unfamiliar in the last Parliament, though there
+are not lacking signs of renewed activity since political parties
+changed places. Question No. 23 stood in the name of Mr. O'Donnell, and
+contained in his best literary style a serious indictment of M.
+Challemel-Lacour, just nominated by the French Government as their
+representative at the Court of St. James.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 185px;">
+<img src="images/image270-1.jpg" width="185" height="400" alt="MR. A. C. MORTON." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MR. A. C. MORTON.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Sir Charles Dilke, then Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs, made
+categorical reply, directly traversing all the points in the indictment.
+When he resumed his seat Mr. O'Donnell rose in his usual deliberate
+manner, captured his eye-glass, and having fixed it to his satisfaction,
+remarked in his drawling voice that it was "perfectly impossible to
+accept the explanation of the Government." Being interrupted with cries
+of "Order! Order!" he quietly played his trump card: "If I am not
+allowed to explain," he said, "I will conclude with a motion."</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 252px;">
+<img src="images/image270-2.jpg" width="252" height="350" alt="SIR CHARLES DILKE." title="" />
+<span class="caption">SIR CHARLES DILKE.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The House howled again, but it was a cry of despair. Mr. O'Donnell, they
+knew, had the whip hand. In those good old days he, or any other member
+desiring to obstruct ordinary procedure, might, in the middle of
+questions, start a debate on any subject under the sun. This and other
+outrages were doubtless recalled by the House of Commons when revising
+its Rules. It then ordered that no member might, during the progress of
+questions, interpose with a motion on which to found debate. If, in this
+current month of March, Mr. O'Donnell, being a member of the House of
+Commons, had wanted to attack M. Challemel-Lacour, he must needs have
+waited till the last question on the paper was disposed of, and could
+then have moved the adjournment only if his description of the
+question&mdash;as one of urgent public importance&mdash;was approved by the
+Speaker, and if, thereafter, forty members rose to support the request
+for a hearing.</p>
+
+<p>In June, 1880, all that was left for the crowded House to do was to roar
+with resentment. Mr. O'Donnell was used to this incentive, and had it
+been withheld would probably have shown signs of failing vigour. As it
+was, he produced a pocket-handkerchief, took down his eye-glass and
+carefully polished it, whilst members yelled and tossed about on their
+seats with impotent fury. Under the existing Rules this scene, if it had
+ever opened, would have been promptly blotted out. The closure would
+have been moved, probably a division taken, and the business of the
+evening would have gone forward. There was no closure in those days, and
+Mr. Gladstone, after hurried consultation with Sir Erskine May, hastily
+moved that Mr. O'Donnell be not heard.</p>
+
+<p>A shout of savage exultation rising from every bench, save those on
+which the Irish members sat, hailed a stroke that promised to deliver
+the House from the thraldom of Mr. O'Donnell at the very moment when its
+chains had taken a final twist. In ordinary circumstances this
+resolution would have played the part of the as yet unconsecrated
+closure. A division would have followed, the motion carried by an
+overwhelming majority, and Mr. O'Donnell would have been temporarily
+shut up.</p>
+
+<p>But those were not ordinary times. The Fourth Party was in the prime of
+its vigour. Lord Randolph Churchill's quick eye discovered an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> opening
+for irritating Mr. Gladstone and damaging the Government by making what
+should have been a business night one long turmoil. Mr. Parnell, whilst
+disclaiming any personal sympathy with Mr. O'Donnell, moved the
+adjournment of the debate, and poor, placid Sir Stafford Northcote,
+egged on by the young bloods below the gangway, raised various points of
+order. Finally, at eight o'clock, the House dividing on Mr. Parnell's
+amendment, Sir Stafford Northcote voted with the Irish members, leading
+a hundred men of the Party of Law and Order into the same lobby.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/image271-1.jpg" width="400" height="360" alt="STIRRING UP SIR STAFFORD." title="" />
+<span class="caption">STIRRING UP SIR STAFFORD.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Hour after hour the riot continued. At one time blameless Sir William
+Harcourt, then Home Secretary, appearing at the table, a Conservative
+member, amid tumultuous shouts, moved that he be not heard. When members
+grew tired of shouting at each other they divided on fresh motions for
+the adjournment, and it was not till one o'clock on the following
+morning that Mr. O'Donnell, grateful for a pleasant evening, was good
+enough to undertake that before he recurred to the question he would
+give due notice, so that the Speaker might exercise his discretion in
+revising its terms. At five minutes past one in the morning, after a
+wrangle full eight hours long, the Speaker, with a pretty assumption of
+nothing particular having happened, called on the next question on the
+paper, which was Number 24.</p>
+
+<p>All this might happen again on any night of this month save for the
+beneficent action of the New Rules a long-suffering Parliament was
+finally induced to adopt. On the threshold of a new Parliament it is
+useful to recall the scene as an assistance in calculating what may be
+accomplished by the Parliament elected in 1892, as compared with that
+which began its history in 1880. On the face of it, Parliament to-day
+has much less time at its disposal for the accomplishment of work than
+it had a dozen years ago. Then, the duration of a sitting was
+indefinite. The House might, as it did in February, 1881, meet at four
+o'clock on a Monday afternoon and sit continuously till Wednesday
+morning. Now, the Speaker takes the Chair at three o'clock; public
+business commences at half-past three; and at midnight, save in cases
+where the Standing Order has been formally suspended, the Speaker leaves
+the Chair, and the House adjourns, whoever may be on his feet.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 229px;">
+<img src="images/image271-2.jpg" width="229" height="300" alt="&quot;DISGUST.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;DISGUST.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The influence of this automatic procedure is beneficially felt
+throughout the whole of debate. One wholesome influence works in the
+direction of using up the early hours of the sitting, an arrangement
+which carries comfort to countless printing offices and editorial
+sanctums. Some time before the New Rules came into operation, Mr.
+Gladstone discovered for himself the convenience and desirability of
+taking part in debate at the earliest possible hour of a sitting. His
+earlier associations drifted round a directly opposite course. In the
+good old days the champions of debate did not interpose till close upon
+midnight, when they had the advantage of audiences sustained and
+exhilarated by dinner. That was before the era of special wires to the
+provincial papers, early morning trams, and vastly increased circulation
+for the London journals. Mr. Gladstone discovered that he was more
+carefully reported and his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> observations more deliberately discussed if
+he spoke between five and seven o'clock in the evening than if,
+following his earlier habit, he addressed the House between eleven and
+one in the morning. He has, accordingly, for some years been accustomed,
+when he has an important speech to deliver, to interpose in debate
+immediately after questions.</p>
+
+<p>This habit has become general, even compulsory, with members who may,
+within certain limits, choose their own time for speaking. All the cream
+of debate is now skimmed before the dinner-hour. At the close of a
+pitched battle, the two Leaders of Party, as heretofore, wind up the
+debate. But their opportunity for orating is severely circumscribed. The
+audience in the House of Commons does not begin to reassemble after
+dinner till half-past ten. Rising at that hour, the Leader of the
+Opposition, if he fairly divides the available time with the right
+honourable gentleman opposite, must not speak more than three-quarters
+of an hour, and should not exceed forty minutes.</p>
+
+<p>This is a necessity desirable not less in the orator's interest than in
+that of the audience. Except for the exposition of an intricate measure,
+twenty minutes is ample time for any man to say what is useful for his
+fellow-men to hear. All Mr. Disraeli's best speeches were made within
+half an hour, and if he thought it necessary, from a sense of the
+importance of his position, to prolong them, his stock of good things
+was exhausted in twenty minutes, the rest being what Carlyle
+disrespectfully described as thrice-boiled cole-wort. Mr. Gladstone can
+go on indefinitely, and in very recent times has been known to hold his
+audience spell-bound for three hours. But even he has profited by the
+beneficent tyranny that now rules the limit of debate, and, rising with
+the knowledge that he has but forty minutes to speak in, has excelled
+himself. For less exuberant speakers not gifted with his genius, the new
+discipline is even more marked in its benefits.</p>
+
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 136px;">
+<img src="images/image272.jpg" width="136" height="400" alt="MR. KEIR HARDIE." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MR. KEIR HARDIE.</span>
+</div>
+<p>It is too soon to endeavour to estimate the general characteristics of
+the <i>personnel</i> of the new Parliament. It will probably turn out to be
+very much of the same class as the innumerable army of its predecessors.
+When Mr. Keir Hardie came down on the opening day in a wagonette, with
+flags flying and accordions playing, it was cried aloud in some quarters
+that the end was at hand. This apprehension was strengthened when Mr.
+Hardie strolled about the House with a tweed travelling cap on his head,
+the Speaker at the time being in the chair. This, as Dr. Johnson
+explained, when the lady asked him why he had described the horse's
+pastern as its knee, was "ignorance, pure ignorance." Mr. Hardie is not
+a man of the quietest manners, as was testified to by the apparition in
+Palace Yard of the wagonette and its musical party; but in the
+much-talked-of incident of the cap he sinned inadvertently. Before the
+Speaker took the chair he had seen members walking about with their hats
+on. He had observed that even in his presence they remained seated with
+their heads covered. The shade of etiquette which approves this fashion
+whilst it sternly prohibits a member from keeping his hat on when in
+motion, even to the extent of leaning over to speak to a friend on the
+bench below him, was too fine to catch the eye of a new member.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Keir Hardie has done much worse things than this in his public
+appearances during the recess, and since the Session opened there has
+not been lacking evidence of resolve to keep himself in the front of the
+stage where the gallery may see him. But this is no new thing, to be
+cited in proof of the deterioration of the composition and style of the
+House of Commons. It has been done repeatedly in various fashions within
+recent memory, and always with the same result. No man, not even Mr.
+Biggar&mdash;and he may be cited as the most ruthless experimenter&mdash;has
+successfully struggled against the subtle disciplinary influence of the
+House of Commons.</p>
+
+<p>From the first the member for Cavan set himself in deliberate fashion to
+outrage Parliamentary traditions and usages. He finished by becoming a
+punctilious practitioner of Parliamentary forms, a stickler for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span>
+minutest observation of order. Whilst Mr. Gladstone and other members of
+old standing were content to preface their speeches with the
+monosyllable "Sir," nothing less than "Mr. Speaker, sir," would satisfy
+Mr. Biggar. No one who has not heard the inflection of tone with which
+this was uttered, nor seen the oratorical sweep of the hand that
+launched it on its course, can realize how much of combined deference
+and authority the phrase is capable of. Mr. Biggar, having in his early
+Parliamentary days defied the Chair and affronted the sensibilities of
+the House, alike in the matter of dress and deportment, developed into a
+portly gentleman of almost smug appearance, a terror to new members. Woe
+to any who in his ignorance passed between the Chair and the member
+addressing it; who walked in from a division with his hat on; or who
+stood an inch or two within the Bar whilst debate was going forward. Mr.
+Biggar's strident cry of "Order! Order!" reverberated through the House.
+Others joined in the shout, and the abashed offender hastily withdrew
+into obscurity.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 244px;">
+<img src="images/image273.jpg" width="244" height="200" alt="THE LATE MR. BIGGAR." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE LATE MR. BIGGAR.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>It is the same with others of less strongly marked character. Vanity or
+garrulity may force a new member into a position of notoriety. He may,
+according to his measure of determination, try a fall again and again
+with the House, and may sometimes, as in the case of Mr. O'Donnell, seem
+to win. But in the end the House of Commons proves victorious. It is a
+sort of whetstone on which blades of various temperature operate. In
+time, they either forego the practice or wear themselves away. In either
+case the whetstone remains.</p>
+
+<p>This is a rule without exception, and is a reassuring reflection in view
+of the talk about the degeneracy of the House of Commons, and the
+decadence of its standard of manner. It would not be difficult to show
+that the House at present in Session will, from the point of view of
+manners, favourably compare with any that have gone before&mdash;though, to
+be just, the comparison should be sought with Parliaments elected under
+similar conditions, with the Liberals in office and the Conservatives in
+opposition. That is an arrangement always found to be more conducive to
+lively proceedings than when parties are disposed in the contrary order.
+The Parliament dissolved last year was decorously dull. Mr. Gladstone in
+opposition is not prone to show sport, and no encouragement was held out
+to enterprising groups below the gangway to bait the Government. It was
+very different in the Parliament of 1880-5, of which fact the
+Challemel-Lacour episode is an illustration, only a little more piquant
+in flavour than the average supply.</p>
+
+<p>There are already signs that the new Parliament will not lie under the
+charge of deplorable dulness brought against its predecessor. But these
+varying moods are due to waves of political passion, and do not affect
+the question whether the House of Commons as a body of English gentlemen
+met for the discharge of public business has or has not deteriorated. I
+have an engraving of a picture of the House of Commons in pre-Reform
+days. It was carefully drawn in the Session of 1842. A more respectable
+body of the gentlemen of England it would be difficult to gather
+together. With the possible exception of one or two political
+adventurers like the then member for Shrewsbury, there is probably not a
+man in the House who is not well born or at least rich. Mr. Keir Hardie
+would look strange indeed in these serried ranks of portly gentlemen
+with high coat collars, cravats up to their chin, short-bodied coats
+showing the waistcoat beneath, and the tightly trousered legs. Yet this
+House, and its equally prim successors, had its obstruction, its
+personal wrangles, and its occasional duel. Peel was attacked by
+Disraeli in a fashion and in language that would not be tolerated in the
+House of Commons now, even though the target were Mr. Gladstone.</p>
+
+<p>It is not necessary to go back as far as the days of Peel or
+Parliamentary Reform to sustain the bold assertion that, so far from
+having degenerated, the manners of the House of Commons have improved.
+In the Parliament elected in 1874 there sat on the Conservative side a
+gentleman named Smollet, who early distinguished himself by bringing
+Parliamentary debate down to the level of conversation in "Roderick
+Random." In those days Mr. Gladstone was down after the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> General
+Election, and Mr. Smollet, to the uproarious delight of gentlemen near
+him, savagely kicked him.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 406px;">
+<img src="images/image274.jpg" width="406" height="400" alt="&quot;MOBBING HIM.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;MOBBING HIM.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>It was in the second year of this same Parliament, less than twenty
+years ago, that Mr. Gladstone, issuing from a division lobby, was
+suddenly pounced upon by some fifty or sixty Conservative members, and
+howled at for the space of several moments. It is, happily, possible for
+Mr. Gladstone to forget, or at least to forgive, personal attacks made
+upon him through his long career. In this very month of the new Session
+he may be nightly seen working in cordial fashion with ancient
+adversaries from Ireland, describing as "my honourable friends"
+gentlemen who, ten years ago and for some time subsequently, heaped on
+his head the coarsest vituperation permitted by practised manipulation
+of Parliamentary forms. But this scene in the division lobby on the 12th
+of April, 1875, is burned into his recollection. I have heard him,
+within the last few months, refer to it in those tones of profound
+indignation and with that flashing fire in his eyes only seen when he is
+deeply moved. He mentioned, what I think was not known, that Lord
+Hartington happened to be walking with him at the time. But there was no
+mistake for whom the angry cries were meant. Mr. Gladstone spoke with
+the profounder indignation because, as he said, he had on this occasion
+gone out to vote on behalf of a man whose character he detested, because
+he saw in the action taken against him an attack upon one of the
+privileges of Parliament.</p>
+
+<p>That scene was an outburst of political animosity; and the movements of
+political animosity, like the dicta of taste, are not to be disputed.
+But on the question of good manners, the only one here under
+consideration, it may be affirmed that the present House of Commons
+would be safe from lapse into such an exhibition. To this better state
+of things the operation of the New Rules has conspicuously contributed,
+and though, as we know, they have not operated to the absolute
+extinction of Parliamentary scenes, they have appreciably limited
+opportunity and incentive.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Portraits_of_Celebrities_at_Different_Times_of_their_Lives" id="Portraits_of_Celebrities_at_Different_Times_of_their_Lives"></a><i>Portraits of Celebrities at Different Times of their Lives</i>.</h2>
+
+
+<h3>LORD BATTERSEA.</h3>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Born 1843.</span></h4><div class="figleft" style="width: 330px;">
+<img src="images/image275-1.jpg" width="330" height="425" alt="AGE 14." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 14.<br />
+
+From a Daguerreotype.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Lord Battersea, who was until recently known to the world as Mr. Cyril
+Flower, M.P., is a son of the late Mr. P. W. Flower, of Streatham, and
+was educated at Harrow and at Trinity College, Cambridge.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 235px;">
+<img src="images/image275-2.jpg" width="235" height="300" alt="AGE 21." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 21.<br />
+
+From a Photo, by Mayland, Cambridge.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>He was called to the Bar at the age of twenty-seven, and became Liberal
+Member for Brecknock in 1880, and for the Luton Division of Bedfordshire
+in 1885 and 1886, in which later year he was one of Mr. Gladstone's
+"Whips." He married the daughter of the late Sir Anthony Rothschild, and
+both he and his wife are much interested in the welfare of the lower
+classes of London. Lord Battersea was unanimously reputed the handsomest
+man in the House of Commons, and is now, in every sense of the word, an
+ornament of the House of Lords.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 251px;">
+<img src="images/image275-3.jpg" width="251" height="350" alt="AGE 40.
+." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 40.<br />
+
+From a Drawing.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 409px;">
+<img src="images/image275-4.jpg" width="409" height="450" alt="PRESENT DAY.
+" title="" />
+<span class="caption">PRESENT DAY.<br />
+
+From a Photograph by Bassano, 35, Old Bond Street, W.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3>W. Q. ORCHARDSON, R.A.</h3>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Born</span> 1835.</h4>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 313px;">
+<img src="images/image276-1.jpg" width="313" height="375" alt="AGE 16.
+
+From an Oil Sketch by himself." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 16.<br />
+
+From an Oil Sketch by himself.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 270px;">
+<img src="images/image276-2.jpg" width="270" height="400" alt="AGE 35.
+
+From a Photograph by Walery, Marseilles." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 35.
+<br />
+From a Photograph by Walery, Marseilles.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 274px;">
+<img src="images/image276-3.jpg" width="274" height="400" alt="AGE 44.
+
+From a Photograph." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 44.<br />
+
+From a Photograph.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Mr. William Quiller Orchardson was born in Edinburgh, and at the age of
+fifteen entered the Trustees' Academy of that city, his first pictures
+being exhibited in the Royal Scottish Academy. At the age of
+twenty-eight he came to London, and the same year exhibited at the Royal
+Academy for the first time, his contributions being entitled, "An Old
+English Song" and "Portraits," the latter a life-size composition of
+three young ladies. In 1865 he painted "The Challenge," which won a
+prize of &pound;100 given by Mr. Wallace, and one of the very few Medals
+awarded to English painters at the Paris Universal Exhibition. In 1866
+came "The Story of a Life"&mdash;an aged nun relating her experiences to a
+group of novices. Two years later, when he had only been four years in
+London, he was elected an A.R.A. Among his more recent pictures may be
+mentioned "Napoleon on Board the <i>Bellerophon</i>" (1880), "The Salon of
+Madame Recamier" (1885), "The Young Duke" (1889), and "St. Helena"
+(1892). Mr. Orchardson was elected an R.A. in 1877, and a D.C.L. of
+Oxford in 1890.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 327px;">
+<img src="images/image276-4.jpg" width="327" height="400" alt="PRESENT DAY.
+
+From a Photo. by Elliott &amp; Fry." title="" />
+<span class="caption">PRESENT DAY.
+
+From a Photo. by Elliott &amp; Fry.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3>LADY HALL&Eacute;.</h3>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 257px;">
+<img src="images/image277-1.jpg" width="257" height="400" alt="AGE 10.
+
+From a Drawing." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 10.
+
+From a Drawing.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 293px;">
+<img src="images/image277-3.jpg" width="293" height="450" alt="AGE 23." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 23.
+
+From a Photograph.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Lady Hall&eacute;, whose maiden name was Wilhelmine N&eacute;ruda, was born at Br&uuml;nn,
+where her father was organist of the cathedral. She was a pupil of
+Jansa, and made her first appearance at Vienna at the age of six, and in
+London at the age of nine. After this she returned to the Continent, and
+in 1864 she married Ludwig Norman, a Swedish musician. Since 1869 she
+has been in England every winter, playing especially at the concerts of
+Sir Charles Hall&eacute;, whom she married in 1888.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 328px;">
+<img src="images/image277-2.jpg" width="328" height="400" alt="AGE 35." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 35.<br /><br />
+
+From a Photograph.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 252px;">
+<img src="images/image277-4.jpg" width="252" height="450" alt="PRESENT DAY." title="" />
+<span class="caption">PRESENT DAY.<br />
+
+From a Photo by Burraud.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3>SIR CHARLES HALL&Eacute;.</h3>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 302px;">
+<img src="images/image278-1.jpg" width="302" height="420" alt="AGE 20.
+
+From a Painting." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 20.<br />
+
+From a Painting.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Sir Charles Hall&eacute; is a native of Germany, but at an early age he
+established himself in Paris, where he acquired a great reputation by
+his refined and classical rendering of the compositions of the great
+musicians; but the Revolution of 1843 drove him to England, where he has
+ever since resided. He soon established himself at Manchester, and as
+the founder of the annual series of orchestral and choral concerts there
+and in London, which have become, perhaps, the most important series in
+Europe, he has rendered the most valuable service to musical art.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 304px;">
+<img src="images/image278-2.jpg" width="304" height="400" alt="AGE 31.
+
+From a Painting." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 31.
+
+From a Painting.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 258px;">
+<img src="images/image278-3.jpg" width="258" height="450" alt="AGE 45.
+
+From a Photo, by H. Hering, Regent Street, W." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 45.
+
+From a Photo, by H. Hering, Regent Street, W.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 308px;">
+<img src="images/image278-4.jpg" width="308" height="400" alt="PRESENT DAY.
+
+From a Photo. by Mayall &amp; Co., 164, New Bond Street, W." title="" />
+<span class="caption">PRESENT DAY.
+
+From a Photo. by Mayall &amp; Co., 164, New Bond Street, W.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3>DR. HERMANN ADLER,</h3>
+
+<h4>CHIEF RABBI.</h4>
+
+<h4>Born 1839.</h4>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 305px;">
+<img src="images/image279-1.jpg" width="305" height="400" alt="AGE 24.
+
+From a Photograph by McLean &amp; Haes, Haymarket." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 24.
+
+From a Photograph by McLean &amp; Haes, Haymarket.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<p>Dr. Adler, son of Dr. Nathan Marcus Adler, was born in Hanover, and came
+to London with his father at the age of six. He studied at University
+College, took his B. A. degree at the University of London at twenty,
+and that of Ph. D., at Leipzig, at twenty-two. In the following year he
+was ordained Rabbi by the famous Rapoport, Chief Rabbi of Prague, and
+became in succession Principal of the Jews' College in London and Chief
+Minister of the Bayswater Synagogue. In 1890 his father, the Chief
+Rabbi, died, and Dr. Adler was elected in his place. Dr. Adler is well
+known not only by his powerful and scholarly writings, but by his work
+among the poorer Jews of London.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 294px;">
+<img src="images/image279-2.jpg" width="294" height="450" alt="AGE 37.
+
+From a Photograph by J. R. Sawyer, Norwich." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 37.
+
+From a Photograph by J. R. Sawyer, Norwich.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 261px;">
+<img src="images/image279-3.jpg" width="261" height="400" alt="AGE 44.
+
+From a Photograph by Fradella, 216, Regent Street, W." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 44.
+
+From a Photograph by Fradella, 216, Regent Street, W.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 295px;">
+<img src="images/image279-4.jpg" width="295" height="350" alt="PRESENT DAY.
+
+From a Photograph by The Photographic Co." title="" />
+<span class="caption">PRESENT DAY.
+
+From a Photograph by The Photographic Co.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3>SIR ARCHIBALD ALISON, BART., K.C.B.</h3>
+
+<h4>Born 1826.</h4>
+
+<p>General Alison, son of Sir Archibald Alison, the first Baronet, who was
+the well-known author of "The History of Europe," was born at Edinburgh,
+and entered the Army at the age of twenty. He served in the Crimea, at
+the siege and fall of Sebastopol, at which date our second portrait
+represents him. During the Indian Mutiny he lost an arm at the relief of
+Lucknow. In 1882 he commanded the 1st Brigade, 2nd Division, during the
+expedition to Egypt, and at the decisive battle of Tel-el-Kebir he led
+the Highland Brigade which fought so gallantly on that memorable
+occasion, and after Arabi's surrender he was left in Egypt with the
+command of the British army of 12,000 men to restore order and protect
+the Khedive. Sir Archibald was included in the thanks of Parliament for
+his energy and gallantry, and was promoted to the rank of
+Lieutenant-General; he received his appointment as General in 1889. In
+1869 Sir Archibald Alison published an able treatise, "On Army
+Organization."</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 316px;">
+<img src="images/image280-1.jpg" width="316" height="650" alt="AGE 3." title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 240px;">
+<img src="images/image280-2.jpg" width="240" height="450" alt="AGE 47.
+
+From a Photograph by Jacklett, Aldershot." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 47.
+
+From a Photograph by Jacklett, Aldershot.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 326px;">
+<img src="images/image280-3.jpg" width="326" height="400" alt="PRESENT DAY.
+
+From a Photo, by Barraud." title="" />
+<span class="caption">PRESENT DAY.
+
+From a Photo, by Barraud.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3>MADAME JANE HADING.</h3>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 750px;">
+<img src="images/image281.jpg" width="750" height="1153" alt="AGE 3.
+
+From a Photo. by Chalot et Cie., Paris." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Madame Jane Hading, the well-known French actress, was born at
+Marseilles, in 1863, where her father was popular as a leading actor,
+with whom she appeared when only three years of age as little <i>Blanche
+de Caylus</i> in "Le Bossu." At the age of thirteen she began work in
+earnest, having won "le prix de solf&egrave;ge" at the Marseille Conservatoire,
+and her talent having come to the ears of Mr. Plunkett, the director of
+the Palais Royal, he engaged her for the Palais Royal in Paris, where
+she created the part of <i>La Chaste Suzanne</i>, by Paul Ferrier. Giving up
+comic opera for comedy, Jane Hading went to the Gymnase, where she
+created the part of <i>Claire de Beaulieu</i> in "Le Ma&icirc;tre de Forges."
+London had the opportunity of seeing her in that and "Prince Zilah," by
+Jules Claretie, later on, and fully indorsed the Parisian verdict. These
+conspicuous successes were followed by others almost as notable, and her
+subsequent tour in America won her golden opinions, and was so
+successful that it was extended some months. Her latest Parisian success
+was "Le Prince d'Aurec," which added greatly to her laurels, putting her
+in the very front rank of great artists.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="The_Adventures_of_Sherlock_Holmes" id="The_Adventures_of_Sherlock_Holmes"></a><i>The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes</i>.</h2>
+
+<h3>XVI.&mdash;THE ADVENTURE OF THE STOCKBROKER'S CLERK.</h3>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">By A. Conan Doyle.</span></h3>
+
+
+<p>Shortly after my marriage I had bought a connection in the Paddington
+district. Old Mr. Farquhar, from whom I purchased it, had at one time an
+excellent general practice, but his age, and an affliction of the nature
+of St. Vitus' dance, from which he suffered, had very much thinned it.
+The public, not unnaturally, goes upon the principle that he who would
+heal others must himself be whole, and looks askance at the curative
+powers of the man whose own case is beyond the reach of his drugs. Thus,
+as my predecessor weakened, his practice declined, until when I
+purchased it from him it had sunk from twelve hundred to little more
+than three hundred a year. I had confidence, however, in my own youth
+and energy, and was convinced that in a very few years the concern would
+be as flourishing as ever.</p>
+
+<p>For three months after taking over the practice I was kept very closely
+at work, and saw little of my friend Sherlock Holmes, for I was too busy
+to visit Baker Street, and he seldom went anywhere himself save upon
+professional business. I was surprised, therefore, when one morning in
+June, as I sat reading the <i>British Medical Journal</i> after breakfast, I
+heard a ring at the bell followed by the high, somewhat strident, tones
+of my old companion's voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, my dear Watson," said he, striding into the room. "I am very
+delighted to see you. I trust that Mrs. Watson has entirely recovered
+from all the little excitements connected with our adventure of the
+'Sign of Four.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, we are both very well," said I, shaking him warmly by the
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>"And I hope also," he continued, sitting down in the rocking-chair,
+"that the cares of medical practice have not entirely obliterated the
+interest which you used to take in our little deductive problems."</p>
+
+<p>"On the contrary," I answered; "it was only last night that I was
+looking over my old notes and classifying some of our past results."</p>
+
+<p>"I trust that you don't consider your collection closed?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not at all. I should wish nothing better than to have some more of such
+experiences."</p>
+
+<p>"To-day, for example?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; to-day, if you like."</p>
+
+<p>"And as far off as Birmingham?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, if you wish it."</p>
+
+<p>"And the practice?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do my neighbour's when he goes. He is always ready to work off the
+debt."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image282.jpg" width="500" height="316" alt="&quot;&#39;NOTHING COULD BE BETTER,&#39; SAID HOLMES.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;&#39;NOTHING COULD BE BETTER,&#39; SAID HOLMES.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Ha! Nothing could be better!" said Holmes, leaning back in his chair
+and looking keenly at me from under his half-closed lids. "I perceive
+that you have been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> unwell lately. Summer colds are always a little
+trying."</p>
+
+<p>"I was confined to the house by a severe chill for three days last week.
+I thought, however, that I had cast off every trace of it."</p>
+
+<p>"So you have. You look remarkably robust."</p>
+
+<p>"How, then, did you know of it?"</p>
+
+<p>"My dear fellow, you know my methods."</p>
+
+<p>"You deduced it, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly."</p>
+
+<p>"And from what?"</p>
+
+<p>"From your slippers."</p>
+
+<p>I glanced down at the new patent leathers which I was wearing. "How on
+earth&mdash;&mdash;?" I began, but Holmes answered my question before it was
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Your slippers are new," he said. "You could not have had them more than
+a few weeks. The soles which you are at this moment presenting to me are
+slightly scorched. For a moment I thought they might have got wet and
+been burned in the drying. But near the instep there is a small circular
+wafer of paper with the shopman's hieroglyphics upon it. Damp would of
+course have removed this. You had then been sitting with your feet
+outstretched to the fire, which a man would hardly do even in so wet a
+June as this if he were in his full health."</p>
+
+<p>Like all Holmes's reasoning the thing seemed simplicity itself when it
+was once explained. He read the thought upon my features, and his smile
+had a tinge of bitterness.</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid that I rather give myself away when I explain," said he.
+"Results without causes are much more impressive. You are ready to come
+to Birmingham, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly. What is the case?"</p>
+
+<p>"You shall hear it all in the train. My client is outside in a
+four-wheeler. Can you come at once?"</p>
+
+<p>"In an instant." I scribbled a note to my neighbour, rushed upstairs to
+explain the matter to my wife, and joined Holmes upon the doorstep.</p>
+
+<p>"Your neighbour is a doctor?" said he, nodding at the brass plate.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. He bought a practice as I did."</p>
+
+<p>"An old-established one?"</p>
+
+<p>"Just the same as mine. Both have been ever since the houses were
+built."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, then you got hold of the best of the two."</p>
+
+<p>"I think I did. But how do you know?"</p>
+
+<p>"By the steps, my boy. Yours are worn three inches deeper than his. But
+this gentleman in the cab is my client, Mr. Hall Pycroft. Allow me to
+introduce you to him. Whip your horse up, cabby, for we have only just
+time to catch our train."</p>
+
+<p>The man whom I found myself facing was a well-built, fresh-complexioned
+young fellow with a frank, honest face and a slight, crisp, yellow
+moustache. He wore a very shiny top-hat and a neat suit of sober black,
+which made him look what he was&mdash;a smart young City man, of the class
+who have been labelled Cockneys, but who give us our crack Volunteer
+regiments, and who turn out more fine athletes and sportsmen than any
+body of men in these islands. His round, ruddy face was naturally full
+of cheeriness, but the corners of his mouth seemed to me to be pulled
+down in a half-comical distress. It was not, however, until we were all
+in a first-class carriage and well started upon our journey to
+Birmingham, that I was able to learn what the trouble was which had
+driven him to Sherlock Holmes.</p>
+
+<p>"We have a clear run here of seventy minutes," Holmes remarked. "I want
+you, Mr. Hall Pycroft, to tell my friend your very interesting
+experience exactly as you have told it to me, or with more detail if
+possible. It will be of use to me to hear the succession of events
+again. It is a case, Watson, which may prove to have something in it, or
+may prove to have nothing, but which at least presents those unusual and
+<i>outr&eacute;</i> features which are as dear to you as they are to me. Now, Mr.
+Pycroft, I shall not interrupt you again."</p>
+
+<p>Our young companion looked at me with a twinkle in his eye.</p>
+
+<p>"The worst of the story is," said he, "that I show myself up as such a
+confounded fool. Of course, it may work out all right, and I don't see
+that I could have done otherwise; but if I have lost my crib and get
+nothing in exchange, I shall feel what a soft Johnny I have been. I'm
+not very good at telling a story, Dr. Watson, but it is like this with
+me.</p>
+
+<p>"I used to have a billet at Coxon and Woodhouse, of Drapers' Gardens,
+but they were let in early in the spring through the Venezuelan loan, as
+no doubt you remember, and came a nasty cropper. I had been with them
+five years, and old Coxon gave me a ripping good testimonial when the
+smash came; but, of course, we clerks were all turned adrift, the
+twenty-seven of us. I tried here and tried there, but there were lots of
+other chaps on the same lay as myself, and it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> was a perfect frost for a
+long time. I had been taking three pounds a week at Coxon's, and I had
+saved about seventy of them, but I soon worked my way through that and
+out at the other end. I was fairly at the end of my tether at last, and
+could hardly find the stamps to answer the advertisements or the
+envelopes to stick them to. I had worn out my boots padding up office
+stairs, and I seemed just as far from getting a billet as ever.</p>
+
+<p>"At last I saw a vacancy at Mawson and Williams', the great stockbroking
+firm in Lombard Street. I daresay E. C. is not much in your line, but I
+can tell you that this is about the richest house in London. The
+advertisement was to be answered by letter only. I sent in my
+testimonial and application, but without the least hope of getting it.
+Back came an answer by return saying that if I would appear next Monday
+I might take over my new duties at once, provided that my appearance was
+satisfactory. No one knows how these things are worked. Some people say
+the manager just plunges his hand into the heap and takes the first that
+comes. Anyhow, it was my innings that time, and I don't ever wish to
+feel better pleased. The screw was a pound a week rise, and the duties
+just about the same as at Coxon's.</p>
+
+<p>"And now I come to the queer part of the business. I was in diggings out
+Hampstead way&mdash;17, Potter's Terrace, was the address. Well, I was
+sitting doing a smoke that very evening after I had been promised the
+appointment, when up came my landlady with a card which had 'Arthur
+Pinner, financial agent,' printed upon it. I had never heard the name
+before, and could not imagine what he wanted with me, but of course I
+asked her to show him up. In he walked&mdash;a middle-sized, dark-haired,
+dark-eyed, black-bearded man, with a touch of the sheeny about his nose.
+He had a brisk kind of way with him and spoke sharply, like a man that
+knew the value of time.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 331px;">
+<img src="images/image284.jpg" width="331" height="450" alt="&quot;&#39;MR. HALL PYCROFT, I BELIEVE?&#39; SAID HE.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;&#39;MR. HALL PYCROFT, I BELIEVE?&#39; SAID HE.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"'Mr. Hall Pycroft, I believe?' said he.</p>
+
+<p>"'Yes, sir,' I answered, and pushed a chair towards him.</p>
+
+<p>"'Lately engaged at Coxon and Woodhouse's?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Yes, sir.'</p>
+
+<p>"And now on the staff of Mawson's?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Quite so.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Well,' said he. 'The fact is that I have heard some really
+extraordinary stories about your financial ability. You remember Parker
+who used to be Coxon's manager? He can never say enough about it.'</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I was pleased to hear this. I had always been pretty smart in
+the office, but I had never dreamed that I was talked about in the City
+in this fashion.</p>
+
+<p>"'You have a good memory?' said he.</p>
+
+<p>"'Pretty fair,' I answered, modestly.</p>
+
+<p>"'Have you kept in touch with the market while you have been out of
+work?' he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"'Yes; I read the Stock Exchange List every morning.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Now, that shows real application!' he cried. 'That is the way to
+prosper! You won't mind my testing you, will you? Let me see! How are
+Ayrshires?'</p>
+
+<p>"'One hundred and six and a quarter to one hundred and five and
+seven-eighths,' I answered.</p>
+
+<p>"'And New Zealand Consolidated?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"'A hundred and four.'</p>
+
+<p>"'And British Broken Hills?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Seven to seven and six.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Wonderful!' he cried, with his hands up. 'This quite fits in with all
+that I had heard. My boy, my boy, you are very much too good to be a
+clerk at Mawson's!'</p>
+
+<p>"This outburst rather astonished me, as you can think. 'Well,' said I,
+'other people don't think quite so much of me as you seem to do, Mr.
+Pinner. I had a hard enough fight to get this berth, and I am very glad
+to have it.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Pooh, man, you should soar above it. You are not in your true sphere.
+Now I'll tell you how it stands with me. What I have to offer is little
+enough when measured by your ability, but when compared with Mawson's it
+is light to dark. Let me see! When do you go to Mawson's?'</p>
+
+<p>"'On Monday.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Ha! ha! I think I would risk a little sporting flutter that you don't
+go there at all.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Not go to Mawson's?'</p>
+
+<p>"'No, sir. By that day you will be the business manager of the
+Franco-Midland Hardware Company, Limited, with one hundred and
+thirty-four branches in the towns and villages of France, not counting
+one in Brussels and one in San Remo.'</p>
+
+<p>"This took my breath away. 'I never heard of it,' said I.</p>
+
+<p>"'Very likely not. It has been kept very quiet, for the capital was all
+privately subscribed, and it is too good a thing to let the public into.
+My brother, Harry Pinner, is promoter, and joins the board after
+allotment as managing director. He knew that I was in the swim down
+here, and he asked me to pick up a good man cheap&mdash;a young, pushing man
+with plenty of snap about him. Parker spoke of you, and that brought me
+here to-night. We can only offer you a beggarly five hundred to start
+with&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>"'Five hundred a year!' I shouted.</p>
+
+<p>"'Only that at the beginning, but you are to have an over-riding
+commission of 1 per cent, on all business done by your agents, and you
+may take my word for it that this will come to more than your salary.'</p>
+
+<p>"'But I know nothing about hardware.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Tut, my boy, you know about figures.'</p>
+
+<p>"My head buzzed, and I could hardly sit still in the chair. But suddenly
+a little chill of doubt came over me.</p>
+
+<p>"'I must be frank with you,' said I. 'Mawson only gives me two hundred,
+but Mawson is safe. Now, really, I know so little about your company
+that&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>"'Ah, smart, smart!' he cried, in a kind of ecstasy of delight. 'You are
+the very man for us! You are not to be talked over, and quite right too.
+Now, here's a note for a hundred pounds; and if you think that we can do
+business you may just slip it into your pocket as an advance upon your
+salary.'</p>
+
+<p>"'That is very handsome,' said I. 'When should I take over my new
+duties?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Be in Birmingham to-morrow at one,' said he. 'I have a note in my
+pocket here which you will take to my brother. You will find him at
+126B, Corporation Street, where the temporary offices of the company are
+situated. Of course he must confirm your engagement, but between
+ourselves it will be all right.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Really, I hardly know how to express my gratitude, Mr. Pinner,' said
+I.</p>
+
+<p>"'Not at all, my boy. You have only got your deserts. There are one or
+two small things&mdash;mere formalities&mdash;which I must arrange with you. You
+have a bit of paper beside you there. Kindly write upon it, "I am
+perfectly willing to act as business manager to the Franco-Midland
+Hardware Company, Limited, at a minimum salary of &pound;500."'</p>
+
+<p>"I did as he asked, and he put the paper in his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"'There is one other detail,' said he. 'What do you intend to do about
+Mawson's?'</p>
+
+<p>"I had forgotten all about Mawson's in my joy.</p>
+
+<p>"'I'll write and resign,' said I.</p>
+
+<p>"'Precisely what I don't want you to do. I had a row over you with
+Mawson's manager. I had gone up to ask him about you, and he was very
+offensive&mdash;accused me of coaxing you away from the service of the firm,
+and that sort of thing. At last I fairly lost my temper. "If you want
+good men you should pay them a good price," said I. "He would rather
+have our small price than your big one," said he. "I'll lay you a
+fiver," said I, "that when he has my offer you will never so much as
+hear from him again." "Done!" said he. "We picked him out of the gutter,
+and he won't leave us so easily." Those were his very words.'</p>
+
+<p>"'The impudent scoundrel!' I cried. 'I've never so much as seen him in
+my life. Why should I consider him in any way? I shall certainly not
+write if you would rather that I didn't.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Good! That's a promise!' said he, rising from his chair. 'Well, I am
+delighted to have got so good a man for my brother.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> Here is your
+advance of a hundred pounds, and here is the letter. Make a note of the
+address, 126B, Corporation Street, and remember that one o'clock
+to-morrow is your appointment. Good-night, and may you have all the
+fortune that you deserve.'</p>
+
+<p>"That's just about all that passed between us as near as I can remember
+it. You can imagine, Dr. Watson, how pleased I was at such an
+extraordinary bit of good fortune. I sat up half the night hugging
+myself over it, and next day I was off to Birmingham in a train that
+would take me in plenty of time for my appointment. I took my things to
+an hotel in New Street, and then I made my way to the address which had
+been given me.</p>
+
+<p>"It was a quarter of an hour before my time, but I thought that would
+make no difference. 126B was a passage between two large shops which led
+to a winding stone stair, from which there were many flats, let as
+offices to companies or professional men. The names of the occupants
+were painted up at the bottom on the wall, but there was no such name as
+the Franco-Midland Hardware Company, Limited. I stood for a few minutes
+with my heart in my boots, wondering whether the whole thing was an
+elaborate hoax or not, when up came a man and addressed me. He was very
+like the chap that I had seen the night before, the same figure and
+voice, but he was clean shaven and his hair was lighter.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 311px;">
+<img src="images/image286.jpg" width="311" height="450" alt="&quot;UP CAME A MAN AND ADDRESSED ME.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;UP CAME A MAN AND ADDRESSED ME.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"'Are you Mr. Hall Pycroft?' he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"'Yes,' said I.</p>
+
+<p>"'Ah! I was expecting you, but you are a trifle before your time. I had
+a note from my brother this morning, in which he sang your praises very
+loudly.'</p>
+
+<p>"'I was just looking for the offices when you came.'</p>
+
+<p>"'We have not got our name up yet, for we only secured these temporary
+premises last week. Come up with me and we will talk the matter over.'</p>
+
+<p>"I followed him to the top of a very lofty stair, and there right under
+the slates were a couple of empty and dusty little rooms, uncarpeted and
+uncurtained, into which he led me. I had thought of a great office with
+shining tables and rows of clerks such as I was used to, and I daresay I
+stared rather straight at the two deal chairs and one little table,
+which, with a ledger and a waste-paper basket, made up the whole
+furniture.</p>
+
+<p>"'Don't be disheartened, Mr. Pycroft,' said my new acquaintance, seeing
+the length of my face. 'Rome was not built in a day, and we have lots of
+money at our backs, though we don't cut much dash yet in offices. Pray
+sit down and let me have your letter.'</p>
+
+<p>"I gave it to him, and he read it over very carefully.</p>
+
+<p>"'You seem to have made a vast impression upon my brother, Arthur,' said
+he, 'and I know that he is a pretty shrewd judge. He swears by London,
+you know, and I by Birmingham, but this time I shall follow his advice.
+Pray consider yourself definitely engaged.'</p>
+
+<p>"'What are my duties?' I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"'You will eventually manage the great dep&ocirc;t in Paris, which will pour a
+flood of English crockery into the shops of one hundred and thirty-four
+agents in France. The purchase will be completed in a week, and
+meanwhile you will remain in Birmingham and make yourself useful.'</p>
+
+<p>"'How?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"For answer he took a big red book out of a drawer. 'This is a directory
+of Paris,' said he, 'with the trades after the names of the people. I
+want you to take it home with you, and to mark off all the hardware
+sellers with their addresses. It would be of the greatest use to me to
+have them.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Surely, there are classified lists?' I suggested.</p>
+
+<p>"'Not reliable ones. Their system is different to ours. Stick at it and
+let me have the lists by Monday, at twelve. Good-day, Mr. Pycroft; if
+you continue to show zeal and intelligence, you will find the company a
+good master.'</p>
+
+<p>"I went back to the hotel with the big book under my arm, and with very
+conflicting feelings in my breast. On the one hand I was definitely
+engaged, and had a hundred pounds in my pocket. On the other, the look
+of the offices, the absence of name on the wall, and other of the points
+which would strike a business man had left a bad impression as to the
+position of my employers. However, come what might, I had my money, so I
+settled down to my task. All Sunday I was kept hard at work, and yet by
+Monday I had only got as far as H. I went round to my employer, found
+him in the same dismantled kind of room, and was told to keep at it
+until Wednesday, and then come again. On Wednesday it was still
+unfinished, so I hammered away until Friday&mdash;that is, yesterday. Then I
+brought it round to Mr. Harry Pinner.</p>
+
+<p>"'Thank you very much,' said he. 'I fear that I underrated the
+difficulty of the task. This list will be of very material assistance to
+me.'</p>
+
+<p>"'It took some time,' said I.</p>
+
+<p>"'And now,' said he, 'I want you to make a list of the furniture shops,
+for they all sell crockery.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Very good.'</p>
+
+<p>"'And you can come up to-morrow evening at seven, and let me know how
+you are getting on. Don't overwork yourself. A couple of hours at Day's
+Music-Hall in the evening would do you no harm after your labours.' He
+laughed as he spoke, and I saw with a thrill that his second tooth upon
+the left-hand side had been very badly stuffed with gold."</p>
+
+<p>Sherlock Holmes rubbed his hands with delight, and I stared in
+astonishment at our client.</p>
+
+<p>"You may well look surprised, Dr. Watson, but it is this way," said he.
+"When I was speaking to the other chap in London at the time that he
+laughed at my not going to Mawson's, I happened to notice that his tooth
+was stuffed in this very identical fashion. The glint of the gold in
+each case caught my eye, you see. When I put that with the voice and
+figure being the same, and only those things altered which might be
+changed by a razor or a wig, I could not doubt that it was the same man.
+Of course, you expect two brothers to be alike, but not that they should
+have the same tooth stuffed in the same way. He bowed me out and I found
+myself in the street, hardly knowing whether I was on my head or my
+heels. Back I went to my hotel, put my head in a basin of cold water,
+and tried to think it out. Why had he sent me from London to Birmingham;
+why had he got there before me; and why had he written a letter from
+himself to himself? It was altogether too much for me, and I could make
+no sense of it. And then suddenly it struck me that what was dark to me
+might be very light to Mr. Sherlock Holmes. I had just time to get up to
+town by the night train, to see him this morning, and to bring you both
+back with me to Birmingham."</p>
+
+<p>There was a pause after the stockbroker's clerk had concluded his
+surprising experience. Then Sherlock Holmes cocked his eye at me,
+leaning back on the cushions with a pleased and yet critical face, like
+a connoisseur who had just taken his first sip of a comet vintage.</p>
+
+<p>"Rather fine, Watson, is it not?" said he. "There are points in it which
+please me. I think you will agree with me that an interview with Mr.
+Arthur Harry Pinner in the temporary offices of the Franco-Midland
+Hardware Company, Limited, would be a rather interesting experience for
+both of us."</p>
+
+<p>"But how can we do it?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, easily enough," said Hall Pycroft, cheerily. "You are two friends
+of mine who are in want of a billet, and what could be more natural than
+that I should bring you both round to the managing director?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite so! Of course!" said Holmes. "I should like to have a look at the
+gentleman and see if I can make anything of his little game. What
+qualities have you, my friend, which would make your services so
+valuable? or is it possible that&mdash;&mdash;" he began biting his nails and
+staring blankly out of the window, and we hardly drew another word from
+him until we were in New Street.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>At seven o'clock that evening we were walking, the three of us, down
+Corporation Street to the company's offices.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It is of no use our being at all before our time," said our client. "He
+only comes there to see me apparently, for the place is deserted up to
+the very hour he names."</p>
+
+<p>"That is suggestive," remarked Holmes.</p>
+
+<p>"By Jove, I told you so!" cried the clerk. "That's he walking ahead of
+us there."</p>
+
+<p>He pointed to a smallish, blonde, well-dressed man, who was bustling
+along the other side of the road. As we watched him he looked across at
+a boy who was bawling out the latest edition of the evening paper, and,
+running over among the cabs and 'buses, he bought one from him. Then
+clutching it in his hand he vanished through a doorway.</p>
+
+<p>"There he goes!" cried Hall Pycroft. "Those are the company's offices
+into which he has gone. Come with me and I'll fix it up as easily as
+possible."</p>
+
+<p>Following his lead we ascended five stories, until we found ourselves
+outside a half-opened door, at which our client tapped. A voice within
+bade us "Come in," and we entered a bare, unfurnished room, such as Hall
+Pycroft had described. At the single table sat the man whom we had seen
+in the street, with his evening paper spread out in front of him, and as
+he looked up at us it seemed to me that I had never looked upon a face
+which bore such marks of grief, and of something beyond grief&mdash;of a
+horror such as comes to few men in a lifetime. His brow glistened with
+perspiration, his cheeks were of the dull dead white of a fish's belly,
+and his eyes were wild and staring. He looked at his clerk as though he
+failed to recognise him, and I could see, by the astonishment depicted
+upon our conductor's face, that this was by no means the usual
+appearance of his employer.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image288.jpg" width="450" height="337" alt="&quot;HE LOOKED UP AT US.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;HE LOOKED UP AT US.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"You look ill, Mr. Pinner," he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I am not very well," answered the other, making obvious efforts to
+pull himself together, and licking his dry lips before he spoke. "Who
+are these gentlemen whom you have brought with you?"</p>
+
+<p>"One is Mr. Harris, of Bermondsey, and the other is Mr. Price, of this
+town," said our clerk, glibly. "They are friends of mine, and gentlemen
+of experience, but they have been out of a place for some little time,
+and they hoped that perhaps you might find an opening for them in the
+company's employment."</p>
+
+<p>"Very possibly! Very possibly!" cried Mr. Pinner, with a ghastly smile.
+"Yes, I have no doubt that we shall be able to do something for you.
+What is your particular line, Mr. Harris?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am an accountant," said Holmes.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, yes, we shall want something of the sort. And you, Mr. Price?"</p>
+
+<p>"A clerk," said I.</p>
+
+<p>"I have every hope that the company may accommodate you. I will let you
+know about it as soon as we come to any conclusion. And now I beg that
+you will go. For God's sake, leave me to myself!"</p>
+
+<p>These last words were shot out of him, as though the constraint which he
+was evidently setting upon himself had suddenly and utterly burst
+asunder. Holmes and I glanced at each other, and Hall Pycroft took a
+step towards the table.</p>
+
+<p>"You forget, Mr. Pinner, that I am here<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> by appointment to receive some
+directions from you," said he.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, Mr. Pycroft, certainly," the other answered in a calmer
+tone. "You may wait here a moment, and there is no reason why your
+friends should not wait with you. I will be entirely at your service in
+three minutes, if I might trespass upon your patience so far." He rose
+with a very courteous air, and bowing to us he passed out through a door
+at the further end of the room, which he closed behind him.</p>
+
+<p>"What now?" whispered Holmes. "Is he giving us the slip?"</p>
+
+<p>"Impossible," answered Pycroft.</p>
+
+<p>"Why so?"</p>
+
+<p>"That door leads into an inner room."</p>
+
+<p>"There is no exit?"</p>
+
+<p>"None."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it furnished?"</p>
+
+<p>"It was empty yesterday."</p>
+
+<p>"Then what on earth can he be doing? There is something which I don't
+understand in this matter. If ever a man was three parts mad with
+terror, that man's name is Pinner. What can have put the shivers on
+him?"</p>
+
+<p>"He suspects that we are detectives," I suggested.</p>
+
+<p>"That's it," said Pycroft.</p>
+
+<p>Holmes shook his head. "He did not turn pale. He <i>was</i> pale when we
+entered the room," said he. "It is just possible that&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>His words were interrupted by a sharp rat-tat from the direction of the
+inner door.</p>
+
+<p>"What the deuce is he knocking at his own door for?" cried the clerk.</p>
+
+<p>Again and much louder came the rat-tat-tat. We all gazed expectantly at
+the closed door. Glancing at Holmes I saw his face turn rigid, and he
+leaned forward in intense excitement. Then suddenly came a low gurgling,
+gargling sound and a brisk drumming upon woodwork. Holmes sprang
+frantically across the room and pushed at the door. It was fastened on
+the inner side. Following his example, we threw ourselves upon it with
+all our weight. One hinge snapped, then the other, and down came the
+door with a crash. Rushing over it we found ourselves in the inner room.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 319px;">
+<img src="images/image289.jpg" width="319" height="450" alt="&quot;WE FOUND OURSELVES IN THE INNER ROOM.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;WE FOUND OURSELVES IN THE INNER ROOM.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>It was empty.</p>
+
+<p>But it was only for a moment that we were at fault. At one corner, the
+corner nearest the room which we had left, there was a second door.
+Holmes sprang to it and pulled it open. A coat and waistcoat were lying
+on the floor, and from a hook behind the door, with his own braces round
+his neck, was hanging the managing director of the Franco-Midland
+Hardware Company. His knees were drawn up, his head hung at a dreadful
+angle to his body, and the clatter of his heels against the door made
+the noise which had broken in upon our conversation. In an instant I had
+caught him round the waist and held him up, while Holmes and Pycroft
+untied the elastic bands which had disappeared between the livid creases
+of skin. Then we carried him into the other room, where he lay with a
+clay-coloured face, puffing his purple lips in and out with every
+breath&mdash;a dreadful wreck of all that he had been but five minutes
+before.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you think of him, Watson?" asked Holmes.</p>
+
+<p>I stooped over him and examined him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>His pulse was feeble and intermittent, but his breathing grew longer,
+and there was a little shivering of his eyelids which showed a thin
+white slit of ball beneath.</p>
+
+<p>"It has been touch and go with him," said I, "but he'll live now. Just
+open that window and hand me the water carafe." I undid his collar,
+poured the cold water over his face, and raised and sank his arms until
+he drew a long natural breath.</p>
+
+<p>"It's only a question of time now," said I, as I turned away from him.</p>
+
+<p>Holmes stood by the table with his hands deep in his trousers pockets
+and his chin upon his breast.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose we ought to call the police in now," said he; "and yet I
+confess that I like to give them a complete case when they come."</p>
+
+<p>"It's a blessed mystery to me," cried Pycroft, scratching his head.
+"Whatever they wanted to bring me all the way up here for, and then&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Pooh! All that is clear enough," said Holmes, impatiently. "It is this
+last sudden move."</p>
+
+<p>"You understand the rest, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think that it is fairly obvious. What do you say, Watson?"</p>
+
+<p>I shrugged my shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"I must confess that I am out of my depths," said I.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, surely, if you consider the events at first they can only point to
+one conclusion."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you make of them?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, the whole thing hinges upon two points. The first is the making
+of Pycroft write a declaration by which he entered the service of this
+preposterous company. Do you not see how very suggestive that is?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid I miss the point."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, why did they want him to do it? Not as a business matter, for
+these arrangements are usually verbal, and there was no earthly business
+reason why this should be an exception. Don't you see, my young friend,
+that they were very anxious to obtain a specimen of your handwriting,
+and had no other way of doing it?"</p>
+
+<p>"And why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite so. Why? When we answer that, we have made some progress with our
+little problem. Why? There can be only one adequate reason. Someone
+wanted to learn to imitate your writing, and had to procure a specimen
+of it first. And now if we pass on to the second point, we find that
+each throws light upon the other. That point is the request made by
+Pinner that you should not resign your place, but should leave the
+manager of this important business in the full expectation that a Mr.
+Hall Pycroft, whom he had never seen, was about to enter the office upon
+the Monday morning."</p>
+
+<p>"My God!" cried our client, "what a blind beetle I have been!"</p>
+
+<p>"Now you see the point about the handwriting. Suppose that someone
+turned up in your place who wrote a completely different hand from that
+in which you had applied for the vacancy, of course the game would have
+been up. But in the interval the rogue learnt to imitate you, and his
+position was therefore secure, as I presume that nobody in the office
+had ever set eyes upon you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not a soul," groaned Hall Pycroft.</p>
+
+<p>"Very good. Of course, it was of the utmost importance to prevent you
+from thinking better of it, and also to keep you from coming into
+contact with anyone who might tell you that your double was at work in
+Mawson's office. Therefore they gave you a handsome advance on your
+salary, and ran you off to the Midlands, where they gave you enough work
+to do to prevent your going to London, where you might have burst their
+little game up. That is all plain enough."</p>
+
+<p>"But why should this man pretend to be his own brother?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that is pretty clear also. There are evidently only two of them
+in it. The other is personating you at the office. This one acted as
+your engager, and then found that he could not find you an employer
+without admitting a third person into his plot. That he was most
+unwilling to do. He changed his appearance as far as he could, and
+trusted that the likeness, which you could not fail to observe, would be
+put down to a family resemblance. But for the happy chance of the gold
+stuffing your suspicions would probably have never been aroused."</p>
+
+<p>Hall Pycroft shook his clenched hands in the air. "Good Lord!" he cried.
+"While I have been fooled in this way, what has this other Hall Pycroft
+been doing at Mawson's? What should we do, Mr. Holmes? Tell me what to
+do!"</p>
+
+<p>"We must wire to Mawson's."</p>
+
+<p>"They shut at twelve on Saturdays."</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind; there may be some doorkeeper or attendant&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, yes; they keep a permanent guard there on account of the value of
+the securities that they hold. I remember hearing it talked of in the
+City."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 353px;">
+<img src="images/image291.jpg" width="353" height="450" alt="&quot;PYCROFT SHOOK HIS CLENCHED HANDS IN THE AIR.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;PYCROFT SHOOK HIS CLENCHED HANDS IN THE AIR.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Very good, we shall wire to him, and see if all is well, and if a clerk
+of your name is working there. That is clear enough, but what is not so
+clear is why at sight of us one of the rogues should instantly walk out
+of the room and hang himself."</p>
+
+<p>"The paper!" croaked a voice behind us. The man was sitting up, blanched
+and ghastly, with returning reason in his eyes, and hands which rubbed
+nervously at the broad red band which still encircled his throat.</p>
+
+<p>"The paper! Of course!" yelled Holmes, in a paroxysm of excitement.
+"Idiot that I was! I thought so much of our visit that the paper never
+entered my head for an instant. To be sure the secret must lie there."
+He flattened it out upon the table, and a cry of triumph burst from his
+lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Look at this, Watson!" he cried. "It is a London paper, an early
+edition of the <i>Evening Standard</i>. Here is what we want. Look at the
+headlines&mdash;'Crime in the City. Murder at Mawson and Williams'. Gigantic
+Attempted Robbery; Capture of the Criminal.' Here, Watson, we are all
+equally anxious to hear it, so kindly read it aloud to us."</p>
+
+<p>It appeared from its position in the paper to have been the one event of
+importance in town, and the account of it ran in this way:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"A desperate attempt at robbery, culminating in the death of one man and
+the capture of the criminal, occurred this afternoon in the City. For
+some time back Mawson and Williams, the famous financial house, have
+been the guardians of securities which amount in the aggregate to a sum
+of considerably over a million sterling. So conscious was the manager of
+the responsibility which devolved upon him in consequence of the great
+interests at stake, that safes of the very latest construction have been
+employed, and an armed watchman has been left day and night in the
+building. It appears that last week a new clerk, named Hall Pycroft, was
+engaged by the firm. This person appears to have been none other than
+Beddington, the famous forger and cracksman, who, with his brother, has
+only recently emerged from a five years' spell of penal servitude. By
+some means, which are not yet clear, he succeeded in winning, under a
+false name, this official position in the office, which he utilized in
+order to obtain mouldings of various locks, and a thorough knowledge of
+the position of the strong room and the safes.</p>
+
+<p>"It is customary at Mawson's for the clerks to leave at midday on
+Saturday. Sergeant Tuson, of the City Police, was somewhat surprised
+therefore to see a gentleman with a carpet bag come down the steps at
+twenty minutes past one. His suspicions being aroused, the sergeant
+followed the man, and with the aid of Constable Pollock succeeded, after
+a most desperate resistance, in arresting him. It was at once clear that
+a daring and gigantic robbery had been committed. Nearly a hundred
+thousand pounds worth of American railway bonds, with a large amount of
+scrip in other mines<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> and companies, were discovered in the bag. On
+examining the premises the body of the unfortunate watchman was found
+doubled up and thrust into the largest of the safes, where it would not
+have been discovered until Monday morning had it not been for the prompt
+action of Sergeant Tuson. The man's skull had been shattered by a blow
+from a poker, delivered from behind. There could be no doubt that
+Beddington had obtained entrance by pretending that he had left
+something behind him, and having murdered the watchman, rapidly rifled
+the large safe, and then made off with his booty. His brother, who
+usually works with him, has not appeared in this job, so far as can at
+present be ascertained, although the police are making energetic
+inquiries as to his whereabouts."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 647px;">
+<img src="images/image292.jpg" width="647" height="450" alt="&quot;GLANCING AT THE HAGGARD FIGURE.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;GLANCING AT THE HAGGARD FIGURE.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Well, we may save the police some little trouble in that direction,"
+said Holmes, glancing at the haggard figure huddled up by the window.
+"Human nature is a strange mixture, Watson. You see that even a villain
+and a murderer can inspire such affection that his brother turns to
+suicide when he learns that his neck is forfeited. However, we have no
+choice as to our action. The doctor and I will remain on guard, Mr.
+Pycroft, if you will have the kindness to step out for the police."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Beauties" id="Beauties"></a><i>Beauties.</i></h2>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 750px;">
+<img src="images/image293.jpg" width="750" height="1148" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 750px;">
+<img src="images/image294.jpg" width="750" height="1141" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 750px;">
+<img src="images/image295.jpg" width="750" height="1193" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Hands" id="Hands"></a><i>Hands.</i></h2>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">By Beckles Willson.</span></h3>
+
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/image296-1.jpg" width="600" height="420" alt="CASTING A HAND FROM LIFE." title="" />
+<span class="caption">CASTING A HAND FROM LIFE.<br />
+(<i>Studio of Mr. Onslow Ford, A.R.A.</i>)</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The sculptor's practice of casting in plaster the hands of his client is
+of comparatively recent growth. The artist of the old school&mdash;and he is
+followed in this by many of the new&mdash;disdained so mechanical a means to
+fidelity. Very few, indeed, among the British painters and sculptors of
+the past will be found who took the pains to see that the hands or even
+the figures of their counterfeit presentments on canvas or in marble
+tallied with the originals. Sir Joshua Reynolds, as we know, would have
+regarded this as the essence of finical vulgarity.</p>
+
+<p>The principal drawback in making casts from life is to be found in the
+discomfort, not to speak of the actual torment, it often causes the
+sitter by the adhesion of the plaster to the hairy growth of the skin.
+Various methods are resorted to with a view to obviate this, and in some
+cases successfully.</p>
+
+<p>The hands of Thomas Carlyle&mdash;stubborn, combative, mystical&mdash;which appear
+in the present paper, will amply repay the closest scrutiny. These hands
+are unwontedly realistic, and emphasize their distinctiveness in every
+vein and wrinkle. They appear to be themselves endowed with each of
+those various qualities which caused their possessor to be regarded as
+one of the most puissant figures in the century's literature. The hand
+is not one, to use Charles Lamb's expressive phrase, to be looked at
+<i>standing on one leg</i>. It deserves a keener examination.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 347px;">
+<img src="images/image296-2.jpg" width="347" height="250" alt="THOMAS CARLYLE&#39;S HANDS." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THOMAS CARLYLE&#39;S HANDS.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Mention has been made of the hand of a distinguished prelate, Cardinal
+Manning.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> It will not be out of place to compare it with the hands of
+the late Archbishop of Canterbury, which were cast posthumously.
+Scarcely anything could be more antagonistic. The nervous personality of
+Manning is wanting here. The hands of the Archbishop seem more to belong
+to the order of the benevolent Bishop Myriel than to that of the
+enthusiast and ascetic.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/image297-1.jpg" width="400" height="225" alt="THE LATE ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY&#39;S HANDS." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE LATE ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY&#39;S HANDS.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 463px;">
+<img src="images/image297-2.jpg" width="463" height="300" alt="LORD PALMERSTON&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">LORD PALMERSTON&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Plenty of opportunity to study the hands of statesmen is afforded in
+those of Lord Palmerston, Count Cavour, Sir Stratford Canning, and Lord
+Melbourne. The fallacy of attaching special qualities to any distinctive
+trait in the hand of an eminent person is most readily discernible here.
+One should avoid <i>&agrave; posteriori</i> reasoning. It would be the same for a
+physiognomist to argue a man a statesman from a facial resemblance to
+Mr. Gladstone, or that he is fit to write tragedies because he owns the
+exact facial proportions of Sardou.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 371px;">
+<img src="images/image297-1a.jpg" width="371" height="275" alt="COUNT CAVOUR&#39;S HANDS." title="" />
+<span class="caption">COUNT CAVOUR&#39;S HANDS.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 411px;">
+<img src="images/image297-2a.jpg" width="411" height="300" alt="SIR STRATFORD CANNING&#39;S HANDS." title="" />
+<span class="caption">SIR STRATFORD CANNING&#39;S HANDS.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Among these the hand of Lord Palmerston will stand forth most
+prominently to the reader. Its characteristics are, on the whole,
+sufficiently obvious, in the appended cast, to be thought accentuated.
+It might not unprofitably be noted in connection with those of Stratford
+Canning, Viscount de Redcliffe (for fifty years British Ambassador in
+India), whose statue by Boehm, with Tennyson's famous epitaph:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou third great Canning, stand among our best<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And noblest, now thy long day's work hath ceased,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here, silent in our Minster of the West,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who wert the voice of England in the East!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>is in a nave of the Abbey. With these should be joined the hand of
+Viscount Melbourne, the predecessor of Sir Robert Peel in the
+Premiership, and the great statesman after whom the city of Melbourne
+was named, in order<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> to range this British galaxy against the hands of
+the Italian patriots, Count Cavour and Joseph Garibaldi, whose labours
+resulted in that master stroke of latter-day politics, the unification
+of Italy. Those of the former were cast separately in different
+positions, it being the intention of the sculptor for the right hand to
+rest lightly upon a column and the left to grasp a roll of parchment.
+Garibaldi's hand may be described as both virile and nervous.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 338px;">
+<img src="images/image298-1.jpg" width="338" height="300" alt="LORD MELBOURNE&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">LORD MELBOURNE&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 244px;">
+<img src="images/image298-2.jpg" width="244" height="361" alt="HAND OF JOHN BURNS, M.P." title="" />
+<span class="caption">HAND OF JOHN BURNS, M.P.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 337px;">
+<img src="images/image298-3.jpg" width="337" height="250" alt="HAND OF JOSEPH ARCH, M.P." title="" />
+<span class="caption">HAND OF JOSEPH ARCH, M.P.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 326px;">
+<img src="images/image298-4.jpg" width="326" height="250" alt="GARIBALDI&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">GARIBALDI&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 360px;">
+<img src="images/image298-5.jpg" width="360" height="200" alt="SIR E. BOEHM&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">SIR E. BOEHM&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 356px;">
+<img src="images/image298-6.jpg" width="356" height="200" alt="HAND OF JOHN JACKSON, R.A." title="" />
+<span class="caption">HAND OF JOHN JACKSON, R.A.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Another type of hand is exemplified in the hands of Messrs. Joseph Arch
+and John Burns. Both of these belong to self-made men, accustomed to
+hard manual labour from childhood. Their powerful ruggedness is
+admirably set off by the exquisite symmetry and feminine proportions of
+the hand of John Jackson a Royal Academician and great painter of his
+time. For symmetry, combined with grace, this hand is not surpassed.</p>
+
+<p>The hand of Sir Edgar Boehm was cast by his assistant, Professor
+Lant&eacute;ri, for the former's statue of Sir Francis Drake. It will be
+observed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> that the fingers grasp a pair of compasses, the original of
+those which appear in the bronze at Plymouth.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image299-1.jpg" width="500" height="274" alt="LADY BLESSINGTON&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">LADY BLESSINGTON&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 358px;">
+<img src="images/image299-2.jpg" width="358" height="225" alt="MRS. CARLYLE&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MRS. CARLYLE&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 372px;">
+<img src="images/image299-3.jpg" width="372" height="250" alt="MRS. THORNYCROFT&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MRS. THORNYCROFT&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Reverting to the ladies again, interest will, no doubt, centre upon the
+hand of the celebrated Lady Blessington, accounted the wittiest hostess
+of her day; and not least attractive will appear Mrs. Carlyle's and
+those of Mrs. Thornycroft and the celebrated Madame Tussaud. The wife of
+the Chelsea sage was herself, as is known, an authoress of no mean
+repute.</p>
+
+<p>A comparison of the hand of Mr. Bancroft with that of Mr. Irving, given
+last month, will prove interesting, if not instructive.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 209px;">
+<img src="images/image299-4.jpg" width="209" height="350" alt="MME. TUSSAUD&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MME. TUSSAUD&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>It has been said that the hands of Carlyle are characteristic; that they
+possess, with those of Wilkie Collins, the merit of being precisely the
+sort of hands one would expect <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span>to see so labelled. We now present a
+third candidate for this merit of candour in casts of the hands of the
+notorious Arthur Orton, better known under the sobriquet of the
+Claimant. They are pulseless, chubby, oblique: yet they are remarkable.
+In scrutinizing them, it is difficult not to feel that one looks upon
+hands very remote indeed from the ordinary.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 359px;">
+<img src="images/image299-5.jpg" width="359" height="250" alt="MR. BANCROFT&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MR. BANCROFT&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 395px;">
+<img src="images/image300-1.jpg" width="395" height="400" alt="HANDS OF THE TICHBORNE CLAIMANT." title="" />
+<span class="caption">HANDS OF THE TICHBORNE CLAIMANT.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Next we look upon the hand of a giant even superior to Anak, in
+Loushkin, the Russian. But physically great as was the Muscovite, it is
+to be doubted if he really attained the world-wide celebrity of the
+little American, Charles Stratton (otherwise known as "Tom Thumb"),
+whose extremity serves as a foil to his rival for exhibition honours.</p>
+
+<p>Another Boehm relic requires some explanation. Every visitor to the
+Metropolis has doubtless seen and admired the heroic equestrian statue
+of the Duke of Wellington, opposite Apsley House. They may even have
+noticed the right hand, which is represented as lightly holding the rein
+of the animal. The appended was cast from the original model in clay of
+the hand of the Duke, no cast direct from life ever having been
+executed.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 286px;">
+<img src="images/image300-2.jpg" width="286" height="400" alt="THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>It is sufficient to say that the subjoined hand and arm of Lady
+Cardigan, wife of the noted Crimean warrior, was one greatly admired by
+Sir Edgar, in whose studio it hung for many years. In like manner will
+the hand of Lady Richard Grosvenor be found the possessor of many
+beautiful and interesting traits.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 548px;">
+<img src="images/image300-3.jpg" width="548" height="300" alt="THE HANDS OF &quot;TOM THUMB&quot; AND LOUSHKIN, THE RUSSIAN
+GIANT." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE HANDS OF &quot;TOM THUMB&quot; AND LOUSHKIN, THE RUSSIAN
+GIANT.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image301-1.jpg" width="450" height="152" alt="LADY CARDIGAN&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">LADY CARDIGAN&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>A member not altogether dissimilar to that of the musician Liszt is the
+hand of Carl von Angeli, Court painter to Her Majesty, and like that
+also in setting at naught the conclusions too often arrived at by the
+chirognomist. For there is here breadth without symmetry, and an utter
+absence of the poise which we look for in the ideal hand of the artist.
+It is instructive to compare it to the hand of the painter, John
+Jackson.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/image301-2.jpg" width="400" height="172" alt="LADY RICHARD GROSVENOR&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">LADY RICHARD GROSVENOR&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 244px;">
+<img src="images/image301-3.jpg" width="244" height="350" alt="CARL ANGELI&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">CARL ANGELI&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Observe the massive, masculine fingers and disproportionately small
+finger-nails in the hands of Professor Weekes, the sculptor. There is
+scarcely any perceptible tapering at the third joint, and the fingers
+all exhibit very little prominence of knuckle or contour. It is anything
+but an artistic hand, and yet its owner was a man of the keenest
+artistic perceptions.</p>
+
+<p>In Frederick Baring's (Lord Ashburton) we find the thick-set fingers,
+and what the chirognomist calls the "lack of manual repose," of the
+great financier. But as his lordship was statesman with a talent for
+debate as well as man of commerce, it will not unlikely be found that
+the hand presented combines the both temperaments.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 372px;">
+<img src="images/image301-4.jpg" width="372" height="300" alt="PROFESSOR WEEKES&#39; HANDS." title="" />
+<span class="caption">PROFESSOR WEEKES&#39; HANDS.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 333px;">
+<img src="images/image301-5.jpg" width="333" height="250" alt="LORD ASHBURTON&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">LORD ASHBURTON&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>I have been enabled, through the kindness of Mr. J. T. Tussaud, to
+embellish the present collection by an ancient cast of the hand of the
+Comte<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> de Lorge, a famous prisoner in the Bastille. This cast was taken,
+together with a death mask, after death, by the great-grandmother of the
+sculptor, to whom both relics have descended.</p>
+
+<p>The Queen's hands, which appeared in the last issue of this Magazine,
+were cast by John Francis, a famous sculptor of the day. Mr. Hamo
+Thorneycroft, R.A., writes me to say that "While the moulds were being
+made Her Majesty removed all the rings from her fingers <i>except</i> the
+wedding ring. This she was most anxious should not come off, and was in
+considerable fear lest the moulding process might remove it."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 239px;">
+<img src="images/image302.jpg" width="239" height="393" alt="COMTE DE LORGE&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">COMTE DE LORGE&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>[<i>The original drawings of the illustrations in this Magazine are always
+on view, and on sale, in the Art Gallery at these offices, which is open
+to the public without charge.</i>]</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></p>
+<p><a name="Illustration_ROSITA" id="Illustration_ROSITA"></a></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;">
+<img src="images/image303.jpg" width="650" height="499" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">From the French of Pitre Chevalier.</span></h3>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+
+<p>It was harvest day at a house in the little village of Panola, in
+Castile, on the 25th of August, 1838. The great sheaves of corn had been
+borne, amidst universal rejoicing, to their resting-place in the
+granary. All the village inhabitants had shared in this pleasant task,
+and now, following an ancient custom, they had erected a trophy composed
+of a few last sheaves of corn, round which the young girls and men began
+to dance gaily, to the sound of guitars and castanets.</p>
+
+<p>Within the house, in a room which overlooked this charming scene, were
+two men.</p>
+
+<p>The first, seated at a table, was an old man over sixty, but enfeebled
+rather by cares than by age. His venerable head, crowned with white
+hair, drooped upon his breast with patriarchal dignity. The old man, who
+had been a soldier in the Spanish army, was Don Pedro de la Sarga, a
+Castilian as noble as he was poor. His companion was his son, Don
+Stephano, a young man of twenty, considered the most accomplished man in
+Panola. He was handsome; his warm, brown skin, his large, black eyes,
+the regular features, which wore that expression of national pride which
+distinguishes a Castilian from any other race, and his raven-black hair
+were eminently the Spanish type in all its grace and haughtiness. The
+young man wore the Spanish holiday costume, the richness of which has
+made travellers exclaim, more than once, that no European prince is
+clothed like a simple peasant of Castile. Stephano had on a short vest
+of black cloth, lined with yellow silk, ornamented with fringes and
+bunches of ribbons; an embroidered shirt with open collar revealing a
+waistcoat with gilt buttons, knee-breeches of black silk confined at the
+knees by bunches of ribbons, shoes and gaiters of fine brown leather,
+while a black felt hat with drooping plume completed his costume.</p>
+
+<p>Stephano's gloomy face contrasted with his gay attire. He leant against
+the open window, carelessly holding in his hand a bouquet of faded
+jasmine, whilst he gazed with melancholy eyes upon the festive scene
+before him, and only by a shake of the head and a sad smile replied to
+the light badinage of the dancers as they passed the window. But now and
+then his eyes lighted up, and he sighed deeply as a certain dancer,
+prettier than the rest, approached him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"How pretty she is!" he murmured, as he followed her retreating form.</p>
+
+<p>"Stephano!" called out the old man, who had been watching his son for
+some time.</p>
+
+<p>"How gracefully she dances," continued the handsome dreamer, wrapt in
+his thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>"Stephano!" repeated the old man.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, father," cried Stephano, with a start, and coming forward. "Do you
+wish to speak to me?"</p>
+
+<p>"From your mysterious air and endless sighs these last few days,
+Stephano, I conclude that you are in love," said his father.</p>
+
+<p>"In love!" stammered the young man. "You think I am in love?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do not think, my son&mdash;I am sure of it; and I have only one reproach
+to make to you, and that is that you have not made me a confidant of
+your secret before."</p>
+
+<p>"You shall know all, father," said Stephano, drawing a chair close to
+Don Pedro.</p>
+
+<p>"For the last month," he continued, "I have had in my heart a love which
+nothing can subdue, and the object of my passion is a young girl here, a
+glance from whose eyes is worth more to me than all the world besides;
+but she shuns my love, and on every occasion strives to avoid me. She
+hardly permits me to speak to her for fear that the passion she reads in
+my eyes will break into words."</p>
+
+<p>"Bah!" said the old man, merrily; "it is very likely that she shuns you
+for the reason of your not opening your mouth; you scare the young girl
+with your morose airs."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, if that were only true," sighed the disconsolate swain.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," said the old man, "there only remains for me to know the name of
+my future daughter-in-law."</p>
+
+<p>The young man was about to pronounce the name which already trembled on
+his lips when a sudden clamour interrupted the most interesting portion
+of this conversation. The peasants, followed by the partners, were
+rushing towards the house, and in the twinkling of an eye the room was
+filled with the animated and noisy throng. The new-comers wore rich
+costumes, more or less copies of Stephano's; some carried guitars,
+others castanets, while most of them leaned upon tall peeled rods,
+forked at the top, and ornamented with ribbons of all colours; each
+carried on the left side of his vest a bouquet similar to that of
+Stephano. The young girls in their silken bodices, short skirts, red
+stockings and mantillas, rattled their castanets as they entered with
+their partners. The joyous crowd surrounded Don Pedro, whilst cries of
+"Rosita! Rosita!" resounded from all sides.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, well, my children, what is it you want?" demanded the village
+Nestor of his clamorous audience.</p>
+
+<p>"We want Mlle. Rosita," they repeated.</p>
+
+<p>"What, my niece? But is she not with you? I thought it was she whom you
+were leading just now round the corn sheaves."</p>
+
+<p>"That is true," replied one of the foremost of the crowd; "everything
+went smoothly until we wished her to take part in our usual ceremony of
+'The Maiden's Choice.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Did you explain to her," asked the old man, "what is the ceremony?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, we told her all that was necessary: that it is an old custom in
+Panola on harvest day, after having escorted the daughter of the house
+round the last sheaves of corn, for all her admirers in the village to
+present her, each in his turn, with a bouquet; that she must then choose
+the one she loves amongst them by retaining his bouquet, whilst the
+others are rejected. She answered us by saying that she had only been in
+Panola a few months, and was therefore not forced to adopt our customs,
+and leaving us with these words she fled from us and escaped through the
+little granary door."</p>
+
+<p>"The little shrew!" Don Pedro exclaimed, who, like an amiable old man,
+was always on the side of the young folk. "But my friends," he added,
+"you are but poor Lotharios to be flouted by a young girl; you must
+follow her and bring her back."</p>
+
+<p>"That is just what we have done; but one cannot catch a bird without
+also having wings. She seemed to fly as we followed her, and on reaching
+the granary she entered and slammed the door in our faces; so we have
+come, as a last resource, to you, Don Pedro, to ask her to comply with
+our wishes."</p>
+
+<p>"You are right," replied the old man, with all the gravity of a judge,
+"you must be satisfied at once"; and he looked round for Don Stephano,
+who was standing more moody than ever behind a giggling group of young
+peasants.</p>
+
+<p>"My son," he said, "go and bring your cousin here. If she refuses, tell
+her that I particularly wish her to come."</p>
+
+<p>"I will go, father," said Stephano, after a second's hesitation; and he
+went out.</p>
+
+<p>There was a slight pause; then shouts and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> acclamations and rattling of
+castanets burst forth, as Rosita, with downcast eyes, entered the room,
+led by Stephano. Well might they welcome with fervour such a charming
+creature. Rosita was just eighteen. She wore upon her golden brown hair
+a black lace mantilla, which contrasted with her creamy complexion and
+the liquid depth of her large brown eyes. A brown velvet bodice showed
+off to perfection her slight yet rounded figure; and her silk skirts
+just revealed her pretty ankles and small feet in their silk stockings
+and neat shoes.</p>
+
+<p>Rosita was a native of Navarre. She had quitted Tafalla, her native
+village, on the death of her father and mother, who had been victims of
+the Civil War which at this time desolated the country, and had been
+conducted not without peril to her uncle's house at Panola, in which she
+had since taken up her abode.</p>
+
+<p>"Rosita," said Don Pedro to his niece, taking her hand, "I have made
+your apologies to your friends for the trick you have played them. It is
+your turn now to atone for your misdeed, by submitting to an old custom.
+Among the brave Castilians who surround you there are many suitors for
+your hand. There must be one among them whom you secretly favour. Your
+choice is entirely free, and even the favoured one after the ceremony
+will then have only the right to please you and to merit your hand."</p>
+
+<p>"But, uncle&mdash;&mdash;" faltered the young girl.</p>
+
+<p>"I will take no denial, my dear," interrupted the old man.</p>
+
+<p>Rosita strove in vain to protest, but her imperturbable uncle would not
+listen, and gave a sign to the peasants to begin the ceremony, in which
+he seemed to take as keen an interest as they did themselves. Thereupon
+the majority of the young men, darting furious glances of jealousy at
+one another, prepared for the contest. Rosita, at her uncle's side,
+stood at one end of the room. At her right and left were grouped the
+young peasant girls, admiring without envy the queen of the <i>f&ecirc;te</i>, and
+forming her court. Stephano stood behind with dejected mien. Those with
+guitars touched their instruments lightly now and then, and upon this
+scene, worthy of the pencil of Leopold Roberts, the sun, now setting at
+the horizon, cast a calm and solemn light.</p>
+
+<p>The first peasant who came forward was a tall young man, with a ruddy
+complexion.</p>
+
+<p>"My name is Geronimo Caldaroz, and I am twenty-five. It has been the
+talk of the village why I did not marry, and it has been said it was
+because I had never yet seen a maiden beautiful enough to please me. But
+now I have found her; it is you, Rosita. Will you accept my bouquet?" He
+presented his bouquet to the young girl, who blushed as she received it,
+and then let it fall.</p>
+
+<p>"Refused! Refused!" whispered the spectators, whilst the young man
+disappeared into the crowd, and a second one took his place. But the
+same thing occurred, and with the same result. Soon the jasmine bouquets
+covered the ground round the young girl's feet. The rejected suitors
+multiplied so fast that they could no longer hide their discomfiture
+amongst the others. Restless and smiling, Don Pedro wondered why his
+niece was so severe, and the remaining suitors seemed to hesitate
+whether to advance into the lists or not. Then the last three timidly
+advanced one by one toward Rosita. The two first were not even heard to
+the end of their speech, and then all eyes were fixed with interest upon
+the last. Rosita let him finish his discourse, took his bouquet, which
+she scrutinized demurely, and then uttering a deep sigh let it fall upon
+the amorous trophy piled at her feet.</p>
+
+<p>A murmur rose amongst the stupefied villagers. Don Pedro approached his
+niece.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, my child," he said, "have you thought of what you have done?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, uncle," Rosita replied. "Did you not tell me yourself that I was
+perfectly free?"</p>
+
+<p>"Free to choose, without doubt; but not to send all your suitors away."</p>
+
+<p>Rosita cast down her eyes and made no reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon me, father, but there still remains one," said Stephano,
+breaking the silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Where is he?" everyone asked at once.</p>
+
+<p>"Here he is."</p>
+
+<p>Rosita trembled so violently that she was compelled to lean for support
+upon her uncle's arm, and Don Pedro, more astonished than anyone, rushed
+towards his son.</p>
+
+<p>"What, Stephano?" he said joyfully. "It is your cousin whom&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, father," replied the young man. "It is she whom I love."</p>
+
+<p>In the midst of such general interest Stephano, pale with emotion,
+advanced towards his cousin.</p>
+
+<p>"Rosita, I love you," he said, simply. "Will you keep this bouquet which
+I offer to you?"</p>
+
+<p>The young man pronounced these words with a voice so sweet and
+expressive, and the gesture with which he offered the symbolic<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> flower
+was so imploring and passionate, that a sympathetic thrill ran through
+the spectators, and tears bedimmed Don Pedro's eyes.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 345px;">
+<img src="images/image306.jpg" width="345" height="450" alt="&quot;&#39;ROSITA, I LOVE YOU,&#39; HE SAID.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;&#39;ROSITA, I LOVE YOU,&#39; HE SAID.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Rosita, not less pale than her cousin, took the bouquet with a trembling
+hand, gazed upon it tenderly, then made a movement as if to throw it
+down, paused, and then at last, with head turned aside, let it fall.</p>
+
+<p>"Santa Maria! He also!" cried the crowd, mournfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Do not condemn me without hearing my justification," cried Rosita,
+turning to Don Pedro.</p>
+
+<p>"Your justification?" repeated Stephano, with relief.</p>
+
+<p>"Uncle," she said, after a pause, "there is a secret which I may have
+been wrong in concealing from you hitherto, but I must confide it to you
+alone."</p>
+
+<p>"To me!" cried the astonished old man.</p>
+
+<p>"I will come with you at once," and, seizing Rosita's hand, he led her
+away, making signs to the peasants as he did so to disperse.</p>
+
+<p>Stephano strolled out to breathe the air upon the hills, whose shadows
+were beginning to slope down into the valley. The sky was lighted only
+by the afterglow of the red, sunken sun; the evening breeze carried
+along in the warm air the perfume of the jasmine flowers and orange
+groves in bloom, and no sound was heard but the music of guitars and
+castanets, mingled sometimes with the faint tinkle of sheep bells.</p>
+
+<p>When Stephano re-entered he found his father and cousin in the lower
+hall. Rosita, on perceiving him, made a pretext for rising, and
+hurriedly left the room. Don Pedro and his son were left alone.</p>
+
+<p>"One word, father," said Stephano. "Does Rosita love me, and will she
+also become my wife?"</p>
+
+<p>"You must forget Rosita," replied the old man. "You must tear from your
+heart even the remembrance of your love."</p>
+
+<p>The young man abandoned himself to despair.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall never forget her," he said, passionately. "My love for Rosita
+will only cease with my life."</p>
+
+<p>And he rushed from the room, leaving the old man wondering.</p>
+
+
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+<p>For some weeks the inmates of Don Pedro's house were forced to remain
+prisoners, for rebel soldiers filled the neighbouring villages, and
+troops of guerillas were being<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> mustered to put them to flight. It was a
+morning, early in September, just after the sun had peered above the
+horizon. A fine rain had fallen during the night, and the drops which
+rested on the foliage sparkled like myriads of diamonds. The streets
+were as yet deserted; some muleteers alone passed along them at
+intervals. Don Pedro's house was the only one astir.</p>
+
+<p>Don Stephano, according to his custom, had risen with the dawn, and was
+now alone in the lower hall, standing opposite the window which
+overlooked the high road. He was occupied in fixing an iron lance upon a
+wooden rod, at which he gazed abstractedly.</p>
+
+<p>The sound of a voice filling the air with song attracted his attention;
+it was singing the Moorish romance of "Adlemar and Adalifa," and to the
+quick perception of a Spanish ear was marked with a slight Ultramontaine
+accent, which Stephano discerned like a true Castilian. Without moving
+he listened to the song which awoke the echoes of the valley. The
+amorous words recalled to Stephano's mind the thought of Rosita, and he
+sighed deeply. Then he listened anew to the voice, which grew nearer and
+nearer, and in which, in spite of its strange accent, he seemed to hear
+an understrain of singular emotion. His conjectures were not long,
+however. A man enveloped in a large mantle peered in at the open window,
+and after throwing a rapid glance behind him leapt into the room.
+Stephano recoiled at the sight of such a strange visitor, and felt
+tempted to seize the man, whom he took at first for a robber. Then a
+troop of horsemen dashed past the house. The stranger gave a sigh of
+relief. Then for the first time he caught sight of Stephano.</p>
+
+<p>"I must be careful," the soldier muttered, as he drew his cloak more
+carefully round him. "This Spaniard does not look over benevolent."</p>
+
+<p>"Who can this man be?" thought Stephano, as he instinctively put his
+hand on his pistols; but on seeing the stranger advance towards him with
+a pleasant smile, he paused.</p>
+
+<p>"Noble Castilian," said the stranger, "are you a man to oblige an enemy
+in peril, and who for a quarter of an hour wishes you no more harm than
+if you were his brother?"</p>
+
+<p>Before replying, Stephano scrutinized his questioner. He saw before him
+a man of about twenty-eight, with a frank face and light hair and
+moustache. His accent, and the blue pantaloons which appeared under the
+brown mantle, proclaimed him a Frenchman.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 326px;">
+<img src="images/image307.jpg" width="326" height="450" alt="&quot;THE STRANGER.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THE STRANGER.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"No unarmed man is my enemy," replied Stephano, "and from the moment my
+roof was over your head you became my guest."</p>
+
+<p>"Shake hands on it! You are a fine fellow," cried the soldier, holding
+out his hand. At the same time he drew aside his mantle, and Stephano
+recognised the uniform worn by the French volunteers of Don Carlos's
+army. "Now, if you have a drop of anything to drink handy, I will tell
+you in a few words what has brought me here."</p>
+
+<p>Stephano opened the sideboard, and brought out a bottle and glasses. The
+soldier wiped his moustache as he began.</p>
+
+<p>"You see before you," he said, with frank abruptness, "Charles
+Dulaurier, a soldier by birth and profession, lieutenant in the
+Grenadiers of His Majesty Charles V.&mdash;pardon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> me, Don Carlos. Being
+stationed some few miles from here, I asked for leave of absence this
+morning to join some troops which (pardon me) are going to make a raid
+upon this very village this morning. But, thanks to my foolhardiness in
+starting off alone, I soon found myself in the hands of guerillas. I
+escaped. They pursued me. But I, though alone in a strange country and
+unarmed, led them a nice dance for half an hour. I was just about to
+fall again into their hands when I came in sight of this house. I duped
+them by my ruse of pitching my voice in such a manner as to lead them to
+think I was beyond the village, whilst I at the same time took refuge
+here. To conclude, my worthy fellow, no doubt the guerillas are not
+blind, and not finding any trace of me upon the route, will return to
+Panola. Consequently, if you are a host to my liking you will&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Conceal you," said Stephano, quickly. "You are right!" and he glanced
+round with uneasiness. The lieutenant struck him on the shoulder. "One
+minute," he said; "the guerillas cannot reappear for half an hour. This
+little expedition, as you may imagine, was not my only motive for coming
+to Panola, and I must again abuse your patience in asking you some
+questions upon a certain subject which is the motive of my expedition."</p>
+
+<p>"Go on," replied Stephano, with resignation.</p>
+
+<p>"I came here to look for a young girl," said the Frenchman, twisting his
+moustache, "and as, perhaps, you will be so good as to give me some
+information on this point, it would be better for you to know the story.
+Last year my regiment, after a vigorous resistance, entered a village in
+Navarre."</p>
+
+<p>"A village in Navarre?" repeated Stephano, and his brow darkened.</p>
+
+<p>"One house had been so well defended, indeed, that it was found
+necessary to surround it, and our infuriated soldiers, drunk with
+carnage, determined to massacre everyone within. I luckily surprised
+them as they drew their sabres upon two poor old creatures and their
+young daughter. I threw myself between the victims and their butchers;
+the wretches turned upon me and I fell wounded by a bayonet thrust, but
+they were saved. The kind people who owed me their lives bore me to
+their house, and gave me every care. The young girl watched at my
+bedside for more than a fortnight. Briefly the beauty, the tenderness of
+the little girl, won my heart. Losing no time, I declared my passion.
+She whispered, blushing, that I might speak to her parents. As soon as I
+was well enough to walk, I hastened to the worthy old man, who, after
+the shock he had received, became mortally ill, and felt his end
+approach. I had no sooner asked him for his daughter's hand than he
+exclaimed, 'God be praised! I shall not now die without having
+recompensed our deliverer.' At the same time he took the young girl's
+hand and mine, and, after making us exchange rings, clasped them
+together. Then he stretched forth his trembling hands above our heads to
+bless us, whilst on our knees by the bedside we swore eternal fidelity
+to each other. Three days after the good man died, and the same day my
+regiment left for Castile. Seven months passed without my hearing any
+news from my betrothed, and it was only by chance I learned that on her
+mother's death she had quitted Navarre to take up her abode in her
+uncle's house at Panola.</p>
+
+<p>"But what is the matter?" said the lieutenant, as Stephano rose
+hurriedly.</p>
+
+<p>"I know enough," replied the young man in a hollow voice. "The village
+was Tafalla, and the young girl's name is Rosita."</p>
+
+<p>"But what is there in that?" cried the lieutenant, who understood
+nothing of Stephano's emotion. "You know Rosita? She is here? You are
+silent. Heavens! Is she dead&mdash;or married?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," replied Stephano, with an effort. "Rosita is here. No doubt
+she loves you and watches for your return with impatience."</p>
+
+<p>"Where, then, shall I find my betrothed?"</p>
+
+<p>Stephano was about to reply to this question when the tramp of horses
+was heard. It was the troop returning.</p>
+
+<p>"Softly!" whispered Dulaurier as he crept towards the window. "Yes,
+these are my friends. Where will you hide me?"</p>
+
+<p>Stephano regarded him with a savage gleam in his eyes and muttered to
+himself, "This man comes here to blast my happiness, and I must protect
+his life at the peril of my own."</p>
+
+<p>"What am I to do?" repeated Dulaurier.</p>
+
+<p>"Take this dagger," said Stephano, "put on your mantle and follow me."
+He unfastened a little door which opened upon a staircase which led into
+the garden, and descended, followed by Dulaurier. They stole along
+behind a thick hedge of hawthorn until they came to the trees of a
+little orchard, from which rose the roof of a ruined summer-house. On
+reaching this spot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> Stephano installed the lieutenant so that he could
+watch both the road and the garden; then having arranged upon the course
+they should take, Stephano hastened back to the house.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 448px;">
+<img src="images/image309.jpg" width="448" height="450" alt="&quot;THEY STOLE ALONG.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THEY STOLE ALONG.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Don Pedro was in the lower hall, alone, when his son entered.</p>
+
+<p>"I have a request to make to you," said the young man, clasping his
+father's hand convulsively. "I want you to let me start at once to join
+my brothers and to fight for Spain."</p>
+
+<p>"Can you then leave your cousin?" said Don Pedro, sadly. "And you do not
+know&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I know more than you, father, more than Rosita herself about this
+affair," interrupted Stephano. "Is not Rosita betrothed to a French
+volunteer in Don Carlos's army, and is this not the secret she confided
+to you on harvest day?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is true. But how have you discovered it?"</p>
+
+<p>"From a man flying from the pursuit of guerillas; no other than the man
+himself, Lieutenant Charles Dulaurier!"</p>
+
+<p>"Is it possible?" exclaimed the stupefied old man.</p>
+
+<p>"You see, father, that it is absolutely necessary for me to go," cried
+Stephano. "I cannot wait until Rosita and Dulaurier are united. Their
+happiness would be more than I could bear, and I have thought of a plan
+by which the lieutenant can be saved without putting off my departure. I
+shall join the troop of guerillas who are seeking Dulaurier in the
+village. Seeing me become one of themselves their suspicions will be
+lulled, and I shall save my rival by departing with his enemies."</p>
+
+<p>"You are right," replied his father, after a painful pause, but he could
+not utter a word more.</p>
+
+<p>The young man proceeded to take down from the wall his pistols and his
+gun; he placed the former in his belt and the latter on his shoulder,
+took his hat and stepped forward to bid his father farewell. But as he
+threw himself into the arms of the weeping old man, the door opened and
+Rosita entered.</p>
+
+<p>The young girl glanced quickly from one to the other, and then her eyes
+remained fixed on Stephano.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you going to do?" she asked, examining his equipment.</p>
+
+<p>"I am going away," replied Stephano. "Farewell, Rosita, be happy.
+Farewell, father," he added, embracing Don Pedro.</p>
+
+<p>"He is going," said Rosita, her eyes dim with tears, "without one
+friendly smile, without one clasp of his hand. Oh! Stephano," she
+exclaimed, springing forward. "You cannot part from me thus!"</p>
+
+<p>"You are keeping me!" said the bewildered young man.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she replied, seizing his hand. "Stay, Stephano, do not go. I
+implore you!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Remain!" cried the young man, passionately. "Remain to see you in the
+arms of another? Never!"</p>
+
+<p>As he moved towards the door, Rosita sprang towards him with
+outstretched arms. "And what if it is you whom I love, Stephano? What if
+I have never loved anyone but you?" A thunderbolt would hardly have
+produced more effect than did these words.</p>
+
+<p>"You love me?" he repeated, approaching his cousin. "Rosita, for mercy's
+sake, repeat those words once more, so that I may be sure of having
+heard aright."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I love you," repeated the young girl, tenderly; "no one but you!
+Will you stay now?"</p>
+
+<p>"For ever, if you wish it!" cried the enraptured youth, throwing down
+his gun and pistols. "Look at me, Rosita, that I may read in your eyes
+that word which gives me life, and which I have waited for so long. How
+blind and foolish I have been! But that will be all right now, will it
+not, my beloved?" As he spoke he embraced her passionately. By both of
+them the world was forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>Through the open window came the clink of spurs and rattling of sabres.
+This sound, to which Stephano and Rosita were deaf, struck on the ear of
+Don Pedro and paralyzed him with terror.</p>
+
+<p>"Stephano!" he cried at last. "Remember Lieutenant Dulaurier!"</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 465px;">
+<img src="images/image310.jpg" width="465" height="450" alt="&quot;REMEMBER LIEUTENANT DULAURIER!&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;REMEMBER LIEUTENANT DULAURIER!&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Ah!" groaned Stephano, rudely torn from his ecstasy of happiness; and
+he fixed his gaze upon his cousin.</p>
+
+<p>The girl had not even heard Don Pedro.</p>
+
+<p>"Rosita," said her lover, "you say you love me, but you have a
+<i>fianc&eacute;!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>"Dulaurier!" cried the startled girl. "Great Heaven! pardon me, I had
+forgotten."</p>
+
+<p>"If this man," continued Stephano, "came here to claim your promise, you
+would reply, would you not, that friendship alone, not love, had drawn
+you towards him, and that your hand, promised when you hardly knew what
+you did, would now be given without your heart?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that is what I should answer; but he is not likely to come here,
+Stephano."</p>
+
+<p>"And what if he were here already?" asked an impressive voice.</p>
+
+<p>Don Pedro at the same time stepped forward between the young people, and
+before the severe face of the Spaniard their eyes drooped.</p>
+
+<p>"Father!" faltered the young man.</p>
+
+<p>"Silence!" cried the old man. "Your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> duty is clear. What if Dulaurier
+were in the house, Rosita&mdash;what if, more faithful than you, he had come
+to claim his promise, made at the death-bed of your father? I ask you
+what you would answer."</p>
+
+<p>Trembling and submissive as a criminal before his judge, the young girl
+turned her eyes from Stephano to Don Pedro.</p>
+
+<p>"I should reply to Lieutenant Dulaurier that, before God and man, I am
+his betrothed bride, and that while he lives no other can be my
+husband."</p>
+
+<p>"Come then, my child, prepare to receive your <i>fianc&eacute;</i>," and Don Pedro
+held out his hand to his niece to lead her away.</p>
+
+<p>"You are destroying my happiness!" cried Stephano.</p>
+
+<p>"But in return I give you back your honour," replied Don Pedro. "Look
+after the lieutenant, for here come the guerillas!" and he went out.</p>
+
+<p>"What a dream, and what an awakening!" murmured Stephano as he was left
+alone. "Rosita vows she loves me, and at the same time declares she will
+never be mine while Dulaurier lives. <i>While he lives!</i> And I must take
+upon myself the peril of saving him, when I have only to let him&mdash;&mdash;Oh,
+how despair tempts us to horrible deeds! Is there time to fly, to quit
+this spot where each thought is torture: to hasten and join the
+guerillas before they enter the house? For, alas! if they enter now and
+demand where their enemy is&mdash;by Heaven! I shall not have the strength to
+resist&mdash;I must fly!"</p>
+
+<p>Picking up his gun and pistols he rushed towards the door, but recoiled
+at the sight of a man in the uniform of a captain of guerillas, who by a
+gesture forced him to pause.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 283px;">
+<img src="images/image311.jpg" width="283" height="500" alt="&quot;IT IS TOO LATE!&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;IT IS TOO LATE!&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Malediction&mdash;it is too late!" murmured the young man, as he dropped
+upon a chair, and let his unheeded weapons fall to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>"Two sentinels before each door and window," called out the captain to
+the soldiers who followed him. "This is the last house in which our
+prisoner could take refuge," he continued, striking impatiently the butt
+end of his rifle upon the ground. "Search well, comrades; you know he
+who takes the Frenchman prisoner is to have the honour of firing the
+first shot upon him, and is also to receive twenty douros for reward."
+Thereupon he advanced into the room. "Well, my good fellow," he said to
+Stephano; "what are you going to do with these weapons? Are they to
+defend yourself or to protect the officer whom you have hidden here?"</p>
+
+<p>"No one is hidden in this house," replied the young man, with the
+courage which peril bestows. "The La Sargas are known throughout the
+country to be devoted to Spain and the Queen. I have three brothers in
+the national army, and I have just picked up these weapons with the
+intention of joining your troops."</p>
+
+<p>The captain looked at him with a sneering smile. Then he turned to his
+companions, who had just returned from searching the house.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, have you found anything?"</p>
+
+<p>"Only a young girl and an old man," was the reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Bring the old man here," said the captain; then he turned to Stephano.
+"And you, sir, go with my lieutenant and these three men, and show them
+every room there is"; then he murmured in the lieutenant's ear,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span>
+slipping at the same time a purse of gold into his hand: "Spare neither
+threats nor persuasion to gain this young man over to our side. Whatever
+it costs, I must recapture our prisoner."</p>
+
+<p>Stephano felt tempted to resist these orders, but he reflected that this
+would only draw suspicion upon him, and he led the way up the stairs,
+which were placed in a corner of the room.</p>
+
+<p>At the same time Don Pedro entered, guarded by two soldiers and leaning
+on his staff. Then an interval ensued, and the minutes flew past.
+Suddenly a pistol shot was heard. Everyone gave a start of alarm. Then
+one of the guards who had gone out with Stephano came rushing down the
+stairs and into the room.</p>
+
+<p>"The bird is snared, or will be in a few minutes," he cried. "Our
+prisoner," he continued, pointing through the window, "is in that
+building which you see at the bottom of the garden."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know this?" asked the captain.</p>
+
+<p>"From the young man who is upstairs with the lieutenant."</p>
+
+<p>"From Stephano!" cried the old man, growing pale with horror.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, ah!" laughed the captain, "your son does not seem very hard to
+persuade."</p>
+
+<p>"The lieutenant having discovered nothing," the man went on, "told three
+of us to go and search the granary, and took advantage of the occasion
+to take the young man aside. I watched them. A purse of gold and the
+barrel of a pistol have been the principal inducements. The sly fellow
+at first was very obstinate, and it was then that the lieutenant fired
+the pistol at him to frighten him. The young man seemed to be moved in a
+singular manner by the shot. He gave way with good grace, and pointed
+the pavilion out to us."</p>
+
+<p>Whilst the captain lent a joyful ear to this narrative, Don Pedro, on
+the contrary, listened with terror mingled with incredulity. At these
+last words he could contain himself no longer, and broke in violently:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Enough, wretch; enough!" he cried. "What you say is impossible! It is
+an infamous calumny! My son is quite incapable of such villainy!"</p>
+
+<p>"Look, senor," replied the man, pointing to the stairs.</p>
+
+<p>Stephano in truth was descending with the lieutenant, holding the purse
+in his hand. His pale and agitated face seemed to proclaim his guilt,
+and Don Pedro sank back fainting on a seat. Stephano crossed the room
+with a faltering step without observing his father, and, reaching the
+window, gazed out upon the road.</p>
+
+<p>In recalling to mind his son's jealousy of Dulaurier, Don Pedro
+understood the facts of the matter&mdash;that he had sold his guest to get
+rid of a detested rival. Maddened by passion, he had without doubt lost
+all control over himself. After having exchanged some words in a low
+voice with his lieutenant, the captain made a sign to two of his men.</p>
+
+<p>"Remain with this fellow," he said, in a tone of contempt, pointing to
+Stephano, "until we reach the pavilion; if he makes one movement shoot
+him, and when a volley announces to you that we are not deceived, join
+us to start upon our route."</p>
+
+<p>"Very good, captain," answered the two soldiers, taking up their
+position on each side of Stephano, whilst the others went out softly.</p>
+
+<p>A mournful silence reigned in the chamber.</p>
+
+<p>Stephano stood erect before the window, with haggard eyes fixed upon the
+road; Don Pedro, mute and motionless in his chair, seemed like a man
+bereft of all at a single blow. Then, his misery overwhelming him, he
+covered his face with his hands and wept. Stephano turned round quickly,
+and for the first time saw his father.</p>
+
+<p>"Great Heavens! He was there, and heard all!" he murmured. "Father!" he
+cried imploringly.</p>
+
+<p>"Call me your father no more," cried the old man, with flaming eyes,
+"unless you can tell me that I am blind and deaf, or that I have dreamed
+that my son was a coward, a traitor, an assassin! Tell me so, Stephano,
+for pity's sake!"</p>
+
+<p>The young man made an effort as if he were about to speak, but paused at
+the sight of his two guards; the strain was so painful that he was
+forced to lean for support on one of the guerilla's arms. Then he turned
+away; Don Pedro rose from his seat and came towards his son.</p>
+
+<p>"His eye never quits this fatal window," he murmured to himself. "It
+looks as if he watched to see the success of his perfidy, that he wishes
+to assure himself that his rival does not escape. Wretch!" he burst
+forth, "if this is so, may you be&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly a hand was laid softly upon the old man's arm. It was Rosita.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! it is you, Rosita!" said Don Pedro with a bewildered stare.
+"Wretched man that I am, what was I about to do?" he added, passing his
+hand over his forehead.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Rosita came farther forward into the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Stephano guarded by two soldiers!" she cried. "Holy Virgin! what does
+this mean, and what has happened?"</p>
+
+<p>And she made an instinctive movement towards her cousin. Her uncle
+stopped her.</p>
+
+<p>"Keep away from this wretched man!" he cried, "for he is a coward and a
+traitor; he has betrayed your betrothed!"</p>
+
+<p>"Betrayed my betrothed!" cried the girl, with horror. "It is
+impossible!"</p>
+
+<p>"Not only has he betrayed him," continued the old man, taking his
+niece's hand, "but he is watching for the success of his treason. Do you
+recognise my son, Rosita?" he added, with heartrending despair, "or the
+man whom you loved?"</p>
+
+<p>Here the poor old man broke down completely, and sank back into his
+chair. The girl gazed at him with consternation. Even the rough soldiers
+were touched by the scene, and turned their heads aside.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 435px;">
+<img src="images/image313.jpg" width="435" height="450" alt="&quot;THE POOR OLD MAN BROKE DOWN COMPLETELY.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THE POOR OLD MAN BROKE DOWN COMPLETELY.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>At that instant a loud report shook the walls. It was the captain's
+volley. The two soldiers exchanged a meaning glance and disappeared. As
+soon as they went out Rosita threw herself in Don Pedro's arms.</p>
+
+<p>"Dulaurier is dead!" said the old man, gloomily.</p>
+
+<p>"He is saved!" cried Stephano, coming forward, and throwing from him as
+he did so the purse of gold. "Yes, father, yes, Rosita, the lieutenant
+is safe and sound, and will be with us in a few seconds."</p>
+
+<p>"How can that be?" cried Don Pedro, passing from despair to joy.</p>
+
+<p>"Before leaving Dulaurier in the pavilion we had arranged that he was to
+be informed by a pistol shot when he must leave his hiding-place for the
+granary whilst his enemies were searching the pavilion. You understand
+now how the guerilla's shot agitated me. For, of course, Dulaurier,
+taking the report for the signal agreed upon, would leave the pavilion
+for the granary, and would then fall into the hands of his pursuers. The
+only plan to save him was to get the soldiers away from the granary,
+which I did by feigning to betray Dulaurier, by accepting the purse, and
+pointing out the pavilion as his hiding-place. For a quarter of an hour
+I have endured the tortures of hell, but I have saved the man who
+confided in me, and I am still worthy of you both!"</p>
+
+<p>The young man had hardly finished his narrative when his father and
+Rosita were at his feet begging for forgiveness. Then Stephano hastened
+to the granary, and called the lieutenant's name, but there was no
+response, and soon Stephano's surprise was changed to uneasiness. He
+rushed into the granary. It was empty. Stephano reappeared, pale,
+tottering and breathless.</p>
+
+<p>"Dulaurier is not in the granary," he cried. "He cannot have taken the
+pistol shot for my signal. He must have remained, and that report we
+heard was his death-shot."</p>
+
+<p>He paused abruptly. Don Pedro and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> Rosita understood, and burst forth
+into an exclamation of horror.</p>
+
+<p>"Victory! Victory!" cried a hundred voices.</p>
+
+<p>Their despair and consternation were changed to the most lively
+astonishment, when a detachment of Don Carlos's volunteers entered the
+house, led by Dulaurier himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Dulaurier!" exclaimed Stephano, Don Pedro, and Rosita at the same time.</p>
+
+<p>"Our enemies!" said the old Castilian, whilst his niece shrank behind
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Say rather friends," replied Dulaurier, pressing Stephano's hand
+warmly.</p>
+
+<p>"But how has all this happened?" began the bewildered Stephano.</p>
+
+<p>"One minute's attention. For half an hour I waited patiently after your
+departure in the little pavilion, when I heard the signal we arranged on
+of the pistol shot. I quitted my hiding-place at once, and was preparing
+to creep towards the granary, when, casting a glance upon the road, I
+recognised the uniforms of the volunteers of my regiment. Briefly,"
+continued Dulaurier, showing the soldiers who surrounded him, "here are
+the gentlemen, whom I have the honour of presenting to you. Like good
+comrades, they determined to avenge me, and we caught the guerillas in
+an ambush as they were searching the pavilion. Bang! a general
+discharge, and thirty men were lying on the ground, and the rest running
+away for their lives."</p>
+
+<p>"The volley of which we believed you the victim!" interrupted Stephano.</p>
+
+<p>"You understand the rest. Not wishing to quit Panola without thanking
+you, and also wishing to see about that little matter which I mentioned
+to you this morning, we came on here. And now," he added to Stephano,
+with the air of a man who has no time to lose, "I must thank you most
+warmly for all you have done for me."</p>
+
+<p>There was such a tone of kindness in these words that Stephano could do
+nothing but grasp his hand cordially in return.</p>
+
+<p>"Anyone else?" cried the effusive officer, looking quickly round. "You
+have a father, a mother, a wife, perhaps? Where are they? This noble old
+man must be your father," and upon Stephano's making an affirmative sign
+he grasped the old man's hand, and wrung it with force.</p>
+
+<p>"Are there no ladies in your family?" asked Dulaurier with a gallant
+air.</p>
+
+<p>It was then that in spite of Rosita's efforts to avoid his attention he
+caught sight of her as she hid behind Don Pedro's high-backed chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! here is one!" he said, without recognising his betrothed. He
+stepped forward towards her.</p>
+
+<p>"Most amiable senora," he began politely, "permit me&mdash;&mdash;" He paused,
+gazing with stupefied eyes upon the young girl, and then made a sign to
+his soldiers to leave them.</p>
+
+<p>"Good Heavens!" he exclaimed, "if I am not deceived it is Rosita, my
+pretty <i>fianc&eacute;e</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>"You are right; it is I, Monsieur Dulaurier," faltered the young girl.</p>
+
+<p>The light of happiness vanished from all the faces in the room except
+the lieutenant's.</p>
+
+<p>"You can easily understand, my pretty one, what has led me to Panola,"
+said Dulaurier.</p>
+
+<p>"I presume you have come to remind Rosita," answered Don Pedro, "of the
+promise that she gave you at her dying father's bedside. She has not
+forgotten it, senor. She recognises her duty, and you have only one word
+to say&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Will you answer me yourself, Rosita?" interrupted Dulaurier, marking
+her extreme pallor and agitation. "You know what I have the right of
+claiming; are you still able to give it me freely?"</p>
+
+<p>"Without doubt," she murmured; "if I give you my hand, my heart will go
+with it."</p>
+
+<p>"Words, nothing but words!" thought the lieutenant, who grew pale in his
+turn. "All women are weathercocks. It is clear I am superseded," and he
+bit his lip until it bled. "But I should like to know who is my
+substitute," and he turned mechanically to Stephano. He found him as
+mute and as troubled as Rosita. The truth flashed across him. "I cannot
+blame the brave young man," he murmured to himself, "for falling in love
+with his cousin. It has not prevented him from saving my life at the
+expense of his love and honour, and as I have no wish for a heart not
+wholly mine, I have now to render sacrifice for sacrifice, and to keep
+the reputation of France equal to that of Spain." He turned to Rosita
+with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Mademoiselle," he began, "when we plighted our troth, and I told you
+that I loved you devotedly, I was as sincere as I am to-day, only I took
+upon myself too much, and have contracted several other engagements,
+more or less similar to yours." He gave a forced laugh as he pronounced
+these words.</p>
+
+<p>"That is enough, senor," said Don Pedro. "But why have you then come to
+Panola to claim her promise?"</p>
+
+<p>"Who said that I was here for that purpose?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> asked Dulaurier, abruptly.
+Stephano, indeed, recollected that the Frenchman had not said a single
+word which implied that he came to claim Rosita's hand. "I implore
+Mademoiselle Rosita to pardon me," pursued Dulaurier, "and I propose
+that we exchange rings again."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 494px;">
+<img src="images/image315.jpg" width="494" height="450" alt="&quot;I PROPOSE THAT WE EXCHANGE RINGS AGAIN.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;I PROPOSE THAT WE EXCHANGE RINGS AGAIN.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>It was no sooner said than done. Dulaurier turned and clasped Stephano's
+hand again, and now the young man saw with apprehension that Dulaurier's
+eyes were dim with tears. Dulaurier could keep up the farce no longer,
+and his heart was breaking behind the smile upon his lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Dulaurier!" said the young man, "you weep: you are unhappy! What you
+have said has been only a sublime falsehood! You love Rosita&mdash;you wish
+to marry her&mdash;and if you have the generosity to renounce all for me, it
+must not be at the expense of your happiness."</p>
+
+<p>"Hush!" said Dulaurier, as he took him aside. "Do not undo my work. But
+since you have found it out, you are right. I did come back to claim
+Rosita. I have always loved her, and have loved none but her. But do not
+breathe a word of this. Let no thought of my unhappiness cast a shadow
+on her life. Sacrifice for sacrifice, young man. France is equal to
+Spain, and we are quits.</p>
+
+<p>"Farewell, brave Castilians," he cried aloud, "celebrate the marriage
+merrily: and let us hope that we shall never meet upon the battlefield
+of this unhappy country."</p>
+
+<p>"Farewell!" replied Stephano, huskily.</p>
+
+<p>Dulaurier pressed Don Pedro's and Stephano's hands, kissed that of
+Rosita, and joined his comrades outside.</p>
+
+<p>"Wheel to the right&mdash;forward!" he shouted, at the head of his battalion.</p>
+
+<p>Then came the roll of the drum, and they all marched past the window.</p>
+
+<p>"Rosita," said Stephano to his cousin, "you are free, and we are going
+to be happy; but never let us forget Lieutenant Dulaurier!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="The_Queer_Side_of_Things" id="The_Queer_Side_of_Things"></a><i>The Queer Side of Things.</i></h2>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;">
+<img src="images/image316.jpg" width="650" height="411" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Let us return for a space to the two spirits William and James, whose
+conversations we described in past numbers. Some readers may possibly
+recall how the spirit James, while wandering through the darkness of
+unoccupied Space (about five-and-twenty billions of eons before the
+commencement of Eternity), conceived a wild idea of the possibility of
+the existence of worlds&mdash;worlds occupied by an impracticability called
+"man." It will be recollected how the wiser spirit William cast
+well-merited ridicule upon this insanely impossible phantasy of a
+disordered mind; nay, even condescended to crush, by perspicuous and
+irrefutable logic, the grotesque and preposterous idea.</p>
+
+<p>Very well; it is now William's turn.</p>
+
+<p>"James," he said one day as they chanced to sight each other in the
+awful solitude of Space, "I have been thinking over that world of yours,
+and your crowning absurdity, 'man.' Pray do not become too inflated with
+weak conceit at my condescending to think about such trivialities; for
+the fact is, any subject of thought&mdash;however hopelessly foolish&mdash;is a
+relief amid the tediousness of Space. Well, I have been reflecting upon
+that characteristic which you conceive as distinguishing your puppet
+'man'&mdash;I allude to <i>intelligence</i>. I think you suggested that he would
+possess intelligence?"</p>
+
+<p>James only fidgeted uneasily, and made a feeble sign of affirmation.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," continued William. "Now, I have been putting two and two
+together, and have found out the nature of that quality which you
+mistake for intelligence; its true name is 'low cunning.' Every fresh
+piece of absurdity which you have told me touching the tricks of your
+queer creatures has supplied new evidence of this. Your creatures were
+to feed upon the substance of the 'world' on which they lived, and, ever
+increasing in numbers, would logically in course of time find there was
+not a mouthful apiece. I think we agreed about that? Well, let us
+consider that period, some time before the creatures should actually
+become exterminated by the natural evolution of events&mdash;the time when
+all the eatable products of their world would be growing scarce. You
+went so far as to imagine a great many products&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes!" said James, gazing afar off in the absorption of his imagination.
+"Yes&mdash;there were eggs, and oysters, and poultry, and mushrooms, and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!&mdash;the very things I've been reflecting about. Well, I've been
+dreaming that, at the period of which I speak, when all the commodities
+were becoming scarce, your human beings would agree to make poisonous
+artificial articles of consumption with which to poison themselves by
+degrees, and thus reduce the population to convenient limits."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No!" cried James, pondering deeply. "Their idea would be to poison not
+<i>themselves</i>, but <i>each other</i>!"</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 410px;">
+<img src="images/image317-1.jpg" width="410" height="300" alt="&quot;POISON.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;POISON.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Ah! I see. Then they would make some sort of effort to prevent
+themselves being poisoned?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes; they would pass Adulteration Acts for the purpose."</p>
+
+<p>"I see; and any creature who did not wish to be poisoned could take
+advantage of these Acts to protect himself?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly. The Acts would be very stringent. Let us suppose, for
+example, that a certain man suspected that the butter supplied to him
+was not butter at all, but a deleterious compound&mdash;well, all he would
+have to do would be to go to the shop, accompanied by a guardian of the
+peace, and, standing on one leg, with both hands on the counter and one
+eye shut, order a pound of the butter in certain words prescribed by the
+Act. He would then say to the tradesman, 'I am about to divide this
+pound of butter into three equal portions for the purposes of analysis';
+and, taking the butter-man's knife in his left hand, and passing it to
+his right, would cut the butter into three portions exactly equal.</p>
+
+<p>"After this, hermetically sealing the three portions in three jars
+provided for the purpose, he would hand one jar to the tradesman, the
+second to the guardian of the peace, and retain the third. Then he would
+bring an action; and (provided that all the conditions had been
+accurately fulfilled, without the slightest flaw) the erring tradesman
+would be told by the Court not to do it again; while the complainant
+would have to pay all costs, and possibly a fine; and would be sneered
+at by the magistrate as a fussy idiot and a common informer.</p>
+
+<p>"If, on the other hand, the complainant should omit to secure the
+company of a custodian of the peace, or fail to stand on one leg with
+both hands on the counter, or take the knife in his right hand first, or
+should leave out the prescribed words, or blink his eye, or stammer, or
+sneeze, or in any other way fail to observe the regulations of the Act;
+he would, of course, have no case or remedy. The Adulteration Acts would
+be extremely stringent&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Against the victim of adulteration?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ye&mdash;es," murmured James, a little nonplussed.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 572px;">
+<img src="images/image317-2.jpg" width="572" height="450" alt="&quot;THE SHOP.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THE SHOP.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Ah&mdash;well, then, I think we can afford to ignore these Adulteration
+Acts&mdash;like the adulterators and the public authorities would&mdash;and
+proceed with the question of the adulteration. I had a most vivid vision
+or dream of the details of this adulteration as they would be carried
+out on your world at the period we are now considering. I imagined that
+I was actually in a part of your world called 'America,' and that one of
+your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> human beings politely invited me to walk through his factory and
+see how things were made. I think you mentioned 'oysters'&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image318-1.jpg" width="300" height="269" alt="&quot;NO CASE.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;NO CASE.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Yes," said James, "that's one name the article of food would possess;
+newspaper writers, however, would not recognise them by that name&mdash;they
+would only know them as 'the succulent bivalve.'"</p>
+
+<p>"The very idea!" exclaimed William. "That's exactly what I seemed to
+have become&mdash;a newspaper writer. I fancied I went to see the factory,
+and then sent in the following account:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"One of the most interesting factories in America is the stately
+building of the Ephraim Q. Knickerbocker Natural Products Manufacturing
+Corporation, of Spread Eagle Springs, N.J. That the structure is itself
+an imposing one may well be imagined in view of the vast productive
+energy expended within its walls; and the feebleness and inefficiency of
+the productive operations of Nature are never so fully realized as after
+a visit to this marvellous factory, and a comparison of the two systems.</p>
+
+<p>"It was, therefore, with no little satisfaction that we lately received
+a courteous invitation from the able and energetic managing director
+General Sardanapalus J. Van Biene to inspect the operations of the
+Corporation at its factory. Accordingly, we proceeded to the New York
+terminus of the Natural Products Manufacturing Corporation's New York,
+Sumner Ferry, Thanksgiving Flats, and Spread Eagle Springs Railroad,
+along which a special train speedily whirled us to the front door of the
+works. On the steps stood the genial managing director, supported by the
+principal manager Colonel Exodus V. Rooster, the head chemist Major
+Madison B. Jefferson, and the assistant chemists Judge Vansittart J.
+Sumner and Admiral Hudson W. Killigrew.</p>
+
+<p>"They received us with open arms, and, after entertaining us at a
+<i>recherch&eacute;</i> lunch, conducted us to the chemistry and analysis section
+occupying a little over seventeen acres and employing a permanent staff
+of thirteen thousand four hundred and thirty-two, assistants, among whom
+are chemists, microscopists, sub-inventors, etc., etc. There it is that
+the productive operations of Nature are studied and improved upon.</p>
+
+<p>"'You must not imagine that we have any kind of sympathy or admiration
+for Nature's system,' explained General S. J. Van Biene, hastening to
+sweep away any false impression which we might have formed.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 428px;">
+<img src="images/image318-2.jpg" width="428" height="450" alt="&quot;THEY RECEIVED US WITH OPEN ARMS.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THEY RECEIVED US WITH OPEN ARMS.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"'On the contrary, we just entirely despise her and her ways, and should
+have discarded her way back but for the prejudices<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> of the consuming
+public. It's just like this&mdash;the consumers still believe in natural
+products, and so we have to go on reproducing them instead of starting
+right away on our own lines and bringing out new and original
+commodities far in advance of anything Nature can do. How we're
+stultified you'll see as we work through. We just have to copy, anyway,
+in place of originating. We make oysters, for example. Now quite a while
+ago, our head chemist Major Madison B. Jefferson invented a new edible
+way, finer in every essential than the oyster; but the consumers
+wouldn't have it: they shied at it, and declared it wasn't wholesome;
+and we had the whole stock on our hands, and had to vat it down again,
+and recolour it, and make tomatoes of it. Then they took it down and
+just chaired it round. Of course, we have to say we <i>grow</i> the
+products&mdash;that's another effect of popular prejudice; if we had said we
+made those tomatoes, the public would have started right off again, and
+talked of "adulteration," although our tomatoes whip Nature's by 50 per
+cent, in all the elements of nutrition and flavour. Just taste this
+one.'</p>
+
+<p>"We hesitated, and the director, perceiving it, promptly consumed
+another from the same case. Thus reassured, we ventured to nibble at the
+artificial vegetable, and found it excellent in every respect&mdash;decidedly
+superior to the natural product, as he had stated.</p>
+
+<p>"'But,' we asked, 'do you not suffer considerable losses when these
+products&mdash;necessarily perishable in the natural course of things&mdash;begin
+to decay?'</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 396px;">
+<img src="images/image319.jpg" width="396" height="450" alt="&quot;JUST TASTE THIS ONE.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;JUST TASTE THIS ONE.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"'That's just another point where we show our superiority to Nature.
+<i>Our</i> products <i>don't</i> decay; on the contrary, they improve by keeping.
+Here is a tomato seven years old,' he continued, taking down another
+case. 'Try it.'</p>
+
+<p>"We did. The other was not to be compared with it. The older tomato had
+matured and mellowed, the skin having a finer colour and lovelier gloss,
+the flesh possessing a firmer body and more delicate flavour; it was far
+in advance of any tomato we had ever conceived.</p>
+
+<p>"'Wonderful!' we exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"'A very simple matter,' said the director. 'All that is required is a
+thorough mastery of chemistry. In all our goods we employ a special
+patent preservative of our own, which is naturally a secret. We
+calculate it to be worth one hundred and fifty quadrillions of dollars.</p>
+
+<p>"'But let us show you how we make oysters! See, these are the tanks
+which contain the mixture&mdash;the compound which forms the body of the
+bivalve. This tank contains the beard-mixture; and this one the
+gristle.'</p>
+
+<p>"'And what are the principal ingredients?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Glue, made from horses' heels. This is a very important factor in our
+products. This glue, after undergoing a peculiar treatment which
+prevents its hardening and losing its elasticity in the course of years,
+is flavoured and coloured in various ways. This great tank contains the
+composition for the internal parts of the oyster&mdash;nearly black, you
+perceive; that tank over there contains the compound for the flesh that
+covers the internal parts; that tank farther along holds the beard
+mixture; and the one beyond that the gristle which attaches the oyster
+to the shell. First, the flesh of the oyster is run into moulds, each
+oyster being in two parts; then the inside of the animal is run into
+another mould, and the two halves of the body are automatically placed
+around it and cemented together.</p>
+
+<p>"'Meanwhile the beards have been rolled, stamped, frilled, and coloured
+along the edge by special automatic machinery. The body of the oyster
+then passes to the fixing-up room, where the beard is cemented to it by
+hand, and finishing touches of colour added; and then it passes along
+and has the gristle attached: and the oyster itself is complete.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 322px;">
+<img src="images/image320-1.jpg" width="322" height="450" alt="The Oyster Factory Affixing the Beards." title="" />
+<span class="caption">The Oyster Factory Affixing the Beards.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"'But it wants a shell!'</p>
+
+<p>"'Just so. As far as the supply will go, we buy up old shells from
+dustyards and use them; but most of them are damaged by previous
+opening, so we make the bulk of our shells, and they're a good deal more
+natural than the real ones. They're made of lime.'</p>
+
+<p>"'All alike?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Not in the least. You see, we have some thousands of moulds, every one
+differing slightly from the rest. There's a special department for
+hingeing the two shells together. We had some trouble to find a
+substance for the hinge; but at last one of our chemists hit on a way of
+subjecting old hide-scraps to a peculiar process, and that did the
+thing. The mother-of-pearl is made of a sort of soft glass, somewhat
+after the appearance of Venetian glass, and put on the shell hot.
+Lastly, the oyster is attached to the shells by its cartilage; a little
+liquor is put in, and the shells are closed up.'</p>
+
+<p>"'But surely people must observe that they are not alive?' we said. 'For
+instance, they can't open their shells!'</p>
+
+<p>"'That's just where you're astray,' replied the General. 'Owing to the
+mechanical action of salt upon the composition of the cartilage, the
+oyster opens when placed in salt water. Iron, however, exercises an
+electro-magnetic influence upon the composition forming the body of the
+bivalve, causing a sudden contraction&mdash;so that, on a knife being
+introduced into the shell, the latter closes in the most natural way. We
+manufacture pearls on the premises, and advertise that one oyster in
+every gross taken from our beds contains a pearl of more or less value;
+and there's a greater demand for our oysters than for any others in the
+world. Our oyster beds are way down along the coast, about ten miles
+off; and are inspected by thousands yearly. Taste this egg.'</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 361px;">
+<img src="images/image320-2.jpg" width="361" height="450" alt="The Pearl." title="" />
+<span class="caption">The Pearl.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"He took up a fine specimen of a new-laid egg, and proceeded to break it
+into a glass. It was a delightful egg. 'That's our latest pattern of
+egg,' explained the General, 'You perceive that it has three lines
+around it, where the substance of the shell is weaker than elsewhere;
+the lines near each end enable a person about to consume the egg in a
+boiled state to easily cut off the top or bottom with a knife, or run
+his nail around it; while the line about the middle greatly assists
+cooks in breaking it into a basin. There is also a thin spot at either
+end, to facilitate sucking. These eggs are always new-laid; we send tons
+to Europe, particularly to Great Britain, where ours are the only fresh
+eggs they ever get.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 357px;">
+<img src="images/image321-1.jpg" width="357" height="400" alt="The London Egg" title="" />
+<span class="caption">The London Egg</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"'But you must find some difficulty in making an egg?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Just as easy as smiling. The white is simply jelly-fish subjected to a
+chemical process&mdash;jelly-fish aren't costly. This tank is full of the
+liquor. The main ingredient of the yolk is the horse-heel glue mentioned
+before; we also boil down vast quantities of rats&mdash;they come cheap, too;
+it's only the cost of catching them; and then there's a vegetable
+colouring, and the preservative, and a few other trifles. First, the two
+halves of the white are made in two moulds, and frozen; then the two
+frozen halves are frozen together, and the yolk-mixture poured in
+through a small hole, which is then closed. Then comes the skin; and
+that is the most expensive part, for it contains a certain quantity of
+rubber. We have tried in vain to find a substitute for rubber, but
+failed hitherto. The rubber is mixed with a gum from a South American
+tree, and the mixture is applied with a brush over the frozen egg; and
+then the egg, still frozen, is dipped in a lime composition very nearly
+identical with the oyster-shell mixture; and, lastly, the whole thing is
+passed through the finishing machine, which turns the three thin lines
+and the two thin spots, imitates the pores of the shell, and delivers
+the finished egg to the warehouse.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Marvellous!' we involuntarily exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"'Oh, that's nothing at all,' said the director. 'We're meditating
+turning out eggs that will hatch and become fowls. At present we have to
+manufacture fowls; but we calculate to make a great saving by producing
+them from the eggs we make. That building over yonder is the terrapin
+factory; we turn out eleven tons of terrapin weekly. We make clams, of
+course&mdash;in the oyster department. In this next house we make kidneys and
+sweetbreads. Fruit? Oh, yes, we turn out masses of fruit; peaches pay
+best, but we do very well with nuts.'</p>
+
+<p>"We were then conducted to the show-room, where we tasted a number of
+other products of the wonderful factory; and we had just said a grateful
+farewell to our courteous guide, when we were seized with pains of the
+most acute description.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 259px;">
+<img src="images/image321-2.jpg" width="259" height="450" alt="The Pain." title="" />
+<span class="caption">The Pain.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"The arrangements of the hospital were admirable. The kindliness and
+attention we received made our five years' sojourn there a time to look
+back upon with feelings of gratitude. We are assured that, with strict
+diet and unremitting care, we may last some time yet&mdash;possibly even
+three months."</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>"It was a marvellous vision," said James, fervently, as the voice of
+William ceased. "Surely after that you must think better of those beings
+of mine?"</p>
+
+<p>But William merely sniffed.</p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">J. F. Sullivan.</span></p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/image322-1.jpg" width="550" height="286" alt="A TURNIP RESEMBLING A HUMAN HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">A TURNIP RESEMBLING A HUMAN HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The above photographs represent two views of an extraordinary turnip
+grown by Alderman David Evans, Llangennech Park, Carmarthenshire. We are
+indebted for the photographs to Mr. Morgan W. James, of Llanelly.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/image322-2.jpg" width="550" height="370" alt="A ROOM PAPERED WITH STAMPS." title="" />
+<span class="caption">A ROOM PAPERED WITH STAMPS.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The above photograph represents the study of Mr. C. Whitfield King, of
+Morpeth House, Ipswich, which he has papered with 44,068 <i>unused</i>
+foreign postage stamps, bearing the value of &pound;699 16s. 9d., and
+containing 48 varieties of different sizes and colours, presenting an
+example of mosaic work which is altogether unique of its kind.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span></p>
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 750px;">
+<img src="images/image323.jpg" width="750" height="1147" alt="Drinking" title="" />
+<span class="caption">Drinking</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 750px;">
+<img src="images/image324.jpg" width="750" height="1108" alt="VESSELS OF ALL" title="" />
+<span class="caption">VESSELS OF ALL</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span></p>
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 750px;">
+<img src="images/image325.jpg" width="750" height="1075" alt="A CROCODILE STORY." title="" />
+<span class="caption">A CROCODILE STORY.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30222 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue 27,
+March 1893, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue 27, March 1893
+       An Illustrated Monthly
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: George Newnes
+
+Release Date: October 9, 2009 [EBook #30222]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STRAND MAGAZINE, MARCH 1893 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Victorian/Edwardian Pictorial Magazines,
+Jonathan Ingram, Josephine Paolucci and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+STRAND MAGAZINE
+
+_An Illustrated Monthly_
+
+Vol. 5, Issue. 27.
+
+March 1893
+
+
+[Illustration: "BY HEAVEN," CRIED RUY LOPEZ, "THE DUKE SHALL FINISH HIS
+GAME!"
+
+(_A Game of Chess_.)]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+A GAME of CHESS.
+
+FROM THE FRENCH.
+
+
+I.
+
+King Phillip II. was playing at chess in the Escurial Palace. His
+opponent was Ruy Lopez, a humble priest, but a chess player of great
+skill. Being the King's particular favourite, the great player was
+permitted to kneel upon a brocaded cushion, whilst the courtiers grouped
+about the King were forced to remain standing in constrained and painful
+attitudes.
+
+It was a magnificent morning. The air was perfumed with the orange
+groves, and the violet curtains of the splendid hall hardly softened the
+burning rays which streamed in through the windows. The blaze of living
+light seemed scarcely in harmony with the King's gloomy countenance. His
+brow was black as night, and from time to time he bent his eyes
+impatiently upon the door. The nobles stood in silence, darting meaning
+glances at each other. It was easily to be discerned that some event of
+great importance weighed upon the spirits of the assembly. No one paid
+any attention to the chess-board except Ruy Lopez, who, as he moved the
+pieces, hesitated between the temptation of checkmating his opponent and
+the deference due to his King. The silence was unbroken except by the
+sound made by the players moving their pieces.
+
+Suddenly the door opened, and a man of rude and savage aspect advanced
+into the hall, and, presenting himself before the King, stood waiting
+his commands to speak. This man's appearance was anything but
+prepossessing, and on his entrance the nobles, as if animated with one
+thought, shrank back with contempt and loathing, as if some unclean
+animal had entered into their midst. His massive, herculean figure was
+clad in a doublet of black leather, and his face, in which could be seen
+no trace of intelligence, expressed, on the contrary, nothing but
+vileness and villainy; a great scar, running right across his face and
+losing itself in a bushy beard, added still further to the natural
+brutality of his countenance.
+
+An electric thrill ran through the assembly. The new comer was Fernando
+Calavar, high executioner of Spain.
+
+"Is he dead?" asked the King, in an imperious tone.
+
+"No, sire," replied Calavar, bowing low.
+
+The King frowned.
+
+"Great Sovereign of Spain," Calavar continued, "the prisoner has claimed
+his privileges, and I cannot take proceedings against a man whose blood
+belongs to the noblest in Spain, without having a more imperative order
+from your Majesty," and he bowed again.
+
+The nobles, who had listened with great attention to these words, broke
+into a murmur of approbation as the man finished speaking. The proud
+Castilian blood rushed like a stream of lava through their veins, and
+dyed their faces crimson. The manifestation became general. Young Alonza
+D'Ossuna openly asserted his opinion by putting on his plumed cap. His
+bold example was followed by the majority of the nobles, and their lofty
+nodding crests seemed to proclaim with defiance that their masters
+protested in favour of the privilege, which the hidalgos of Spain have
+always enjoyed, of covering their heads before their Sovereign.
+
+The King gave a furious start, and striking his fist violently upon the
+chess-board, scattered the chessmen in all directions.
+
+"He has been judged by our Royal Court of Justice," he cried, "and
+condemned to death. What does the traitor demand?"
+
+"Sire!" replied the executioner, "he asks permission to die upon the
+block, and also to pass the three last hours of his life with a priest."
+
+"Ah, that is granted!" replied Philip, in a tone of relief. "Is not our
+confessor in the prison according to our orders?"
+
+"Yes, sire!" said Calavar, "the holy man is there; but the Duke refuses
+to see St. Diaz de Silva. He says he cannot receive absolution from
+anyone below the dignity of a Bishop. Such is the privilege of a noble
+condemned to death for high treason."
+
+"Yes, these are our rights!" boldly interrupted the fiery D'Ossuna; "and
+we claim from the King our cousin's privileges."
+
+This demand acted as a signal.
+
+"Our rights and the King's justice are inseparable," cried Don Diego de
+Tarraxas, Count of Valence, an old man of gigantic stature, clothed in
+armour, holding in his hands the baton of Great Constable of Spain, and
+leaning upon his long Toledo blade.
+
+"Our rights and our privileges!" cried the nobles, repeating the words
+like an echo. Their audacity made the King start with fury from his
+ebony throne.
+
+"By the bones of Campeador!" he cried. "By the soul of St. Jago! I have
+sworn neither to eat nor sleep until the bleeding head of Don Gusman
+lies before me. As I have sworn, so shall it be. But Don Tarraxas has
+said well, 'The King's justice confirms his subjects' rights.' My Lord
+Constable, where does the nearest Bishop reside?"
+
+"Sire, I have more to do with camp than with the Church," the Constable
+replied, somewhat abruptly. "Your Majesty's chaplain, Don Silvas, is
+present: he can tell you better than I."
+
+Don Silvas began to speak in trepidation.
+
+[Illustration: "WHAT DOES THE TRAITOR DEMAND?"]
+
+"Sire," he said, humbly, "the Bishop of Segovia is an official of the
+King, but he who filled the duty died last week, and the parchment which
+names his successor is still upon the Council table, and is yet to be
+submitted to the Pope's seal."
+
+At these words a joyous smile hovered about D'Ossuna's lips. This joy
+was but natural, for the young man was of the blood of the Gusmans, and
+his cousin, the condemned prisoner, was his dearest friend. The King
+perceived the smile, and his eye shot forth lightning.
+
+"We are the King!" he said, gravely, with the calm which presages a
+storm; "our Royal person must be no butt for raillery. This sceptre
+appears light, my lords, but he who ridicules it shall be crushed
+thereby as with a block of iron. I believe that our holy father the Pope
+is somewhat indebted to us, so that we do not fear his displeasure at
+the step which we are about to take. Since the King of Spain can make a
+Prince, he can also make a Bishop. Rise, then, Don Ruy Lopez. I create
+you Bishop of Segovia. Rise, I command you, and take your rank in the
+Church."
+
+The courtiers stood dumfounded.
+
+Don Ruy Lopez rose mechanically. His head was whirling, and he stammered
+as he strove to speak.
+
+"If your Majesty pleases----" he began.
+
+"Silence, my Lord Bishop!" replied the King. "Obey your Sovereign. The
+formalities of your installation shall be performed another day; our
+subjects will not fail to acknowledge our wishes in this affair. Bishop
+of Segovia, go with Calavar to the condemned man's cell. Give absolution
+to his soul, and in three hours leave his body to the executioner's axe.
+As for you, Calavar, I will await you here; you will bring us the
+traitor's head. Let justice be accomplished."
+
+Then Philip turned to Ruy Lopez.
+
+"I give you my signet ring," he said, "to show the Duke as a token of
+the truth of your story."
+
+The executioner left the chamber, followed by Ruy Lopez.
+
+"Well, gentlemen," said the King, turning to the others, "do you still
+doubt the King's justice?"
+
+But the nobles answered not a word.
+
+The King, having taken his seat, made a sign to one of his favourites to
+place himself before the chess-board, and Don Ramirez, Count of Biscay,
+accordingly knelt down upon the velvet cushion.
+
+"With a game of chess, gentlemen," said the King, smiling, "and your
+company, I cannot fail to make the time pass agreeably. Let no one leave
+the chamber until Calavar's return. We cannot spare a single one of
+you."
+
+With these ironical words, Philip commenced a game with Don Ramirez,
+whilst the nobles, almost dropping with fatigue, resumed the positions
+about their august master which they had occupied at the beginning of
+this story.
+
+
+II.
+
+Calavar, leading the way, conducted the new Bishop to the condemned
+man's cell. Ruy Lopez walked like one in a dream. Was he awake, or not?
+He hardly knew. At the bottom of his heart he cursed the King and his
+Court. He understood perfectly that he had become Bishop of Segovia, but
+he felt deeply at what a price he had bought his dignity. What had Don
+Gusman done that he should be thus sacrificed? Don Gusman, the best
+chess player in Spain! He thought of all this as he proceeded over the
+marble flags which led to the State prison, and as he thought he prayed
+that the ground would open and swallow him up.
+
+Don Gusman was pacing impatiently up and down his narrow cell with a
+hurried step that betrayed the feverish anxiety of his mind. The cell
+was furnished with a massive table and two heavy wooden stools, the
+floor being covered with coarse, thick mats. Shut out from all the
+noises of the outer world, here silence reigned supreme. A crucifix,
+roughly carved, was fixed to the wall in the niche of a high window,
+which was carefully barred with iron. Except for this image of
+resignation and mercy, the walls were bare. Well might this dungeon
+serve as antechamber to the tomb.
+
+As Ruy Lopez entered the cell a sudden burst of sunshine flooded the
+walls as if in bitter mockery of him who was soon to see it no more.
+
+The Duke saluted the new Bishop with great courtesy. They regarded each
+other, and exchanged in that look a thousand words which they alone
+could understand. Ruy Lopez felt the painfulness of his position deeply,
+and the Duke understood his embarrassment. Their thoughts were both the
+same, that in the condemnation of one of the principal favourites of the
+King an innocent life was threatened! The proofs of the crime imputed to
+the Duke were grave; the most important being a despatch written in Don
+Gusman's hand to the French Court, in which he unfolded a scheme for
+assassinating Philip II. This had sufficed to condemn him.
+
+Don Gusman, strong in his innocence, had kept a rigorous silence when
+brought before his judges, and the accusation not being denied,
+sentence of death was passed upon him. Don Gusman since his
+incarceration had not altered. He had braved the storm, and looked upon
+death with an unmoved countenance. His last hours had no terrors for
+him. If his forehead was overshadowed, if his steps were agitated and
+his breathing hurried, it was because there rose before his eye the
+image of his betrothed, Dona Estella, who, ignorant of her lover's fate,
+was waiting for him in her battlemented castle on the banks of the
+Guadalquiver. If he felt weak at this fatal moment, and if a pang shot
+through his heart, it was because his thoughts were of her who was to
+him the dearest thing in all the world.
+
+[Illustration: "RUY LOPEZ ENTERED THE CELL."]
+
+Ruy Lopez had not entered alone. Calavar was at his side; and it was he
+who announced to the Duke the King's decision and reply. Ruy Lopez
+confirmed the executioner's words, and the Duke, falling on his knees
+before the new Bishop, asked his blessing, then turning to Calavar with
+a gesture of authority, he dismissed him, saying:--
+
+"In three hours I shall be at your disposal."
+
+Calavar obeyed him and went out, and the Duke and Bishop were left
+alone.
+
+Ruy Lopez was trembling with nervousness, whilst Don Gusman's face wore
+a calm and serene expression. He took the Bishop's hand, and wrung it
+warmly. There was a pause. The Duke was the first to break the silence.
+
+"We have met before in happier circumstances," he said, smiling.
+
+"It is true," stammered Ruy Lopez, who, pale and agitated, resembled
+rather the penitent than the confessor.
+
+"Much happier," repeated the Duke, absently. "Do you remember, when you
+played your celebrated game of chess with Paoli Boy, the Sicilian, in
+the presence of the King and Court, that it was upon my right arm that
+the King leant?" Then after a pause he continued: "Do you remember also,
+father, those words of Cervantes, 'Life is a game of chess?' I have
+forgotten the exact place in which the passage occurs, but its meaning
+is, that upon earth men play different roles. There are, as in chess,
+kings, knights, soldiers, bishops, according to their birth, fate and
+fortune; and when the game is over death lays them all as equals in the
+tomb, even as we gather together the chessmen into a box."
+
+"Yes, I remember those words of Don Quixote," replied Don Lopez,
+astonished at this singular conversation, "and I remember also Sancho's
+reply: 'That however good the comparison was, it was not so new that he
+had not heard it before.'"
+
+"I was your favourite pupil, even your rival," said the Duke, without
+appearing to hear Don Lopez.
+
+"It is true," cried the Bishop. "You are a great master of the game, and
+I have been often proud of having such a pupil. But now, on your knees,
+my son."
+
+They knelt down together, and there before the crucifix Don Gusman made
+confession to Ruy Lopez, who as he listened could hardly restrain his
+tears.
+
+When the Duke had finished, two hours after--for the confession under
+the Church seal was long and touching--the Bishop blessed the prisoner,
+and gave him absolution. The face of Don Gusman, as he rose, was calm
+and resigned.
+
+[Illustration: "THEY KNELT DOWN TOGETHER."]
+
+But there remained still an hour to wait.
+
+"This delay is torture," cried the Duke. "Why do they not cut off the
+prisoners at once, instead of stretching their souls upon such a rack of
+agony? An eternity of suffering is in each of these minutes." And the
+prisoner began to walk impatiently to and fro, with his eyes constantly
+bent upon the door. The Duke's firmness was shaken by the thought of
+that weary hour of waiting. Ruy Lopez had fulfilled his duty. The
+prisoner's soul was purified, and now the priest could become the
+friend.
+
+As Don Lopez heard Don Gusman utter this exclamation, and saw his face
+grow white, he understood what agony he was undergoing, and felt at once
+that something must be done to divert his thoughts. But in vain he
+racked his brain for an idea. He could think of nothing. What could he
+propose to a man about to die? For such as he, the flower has no longer
+perfume, woman has no longer beauty. Then suddenly a thought flashed
+across his brain.
+
+"How would a game of chess--" he began, timidly.
+
+"An excellent idea!" cried Don Gusman, recalled to himself by this
+singular proposal. "A farewell game of chess."
+
+"You consent?"
+
+"Most readily; but where are the chessmen, my friend?"
+
+"Am I not always provided with the instruments of war?" said Ruy Lopez,
+smiling. Then he pulled forward the two stools and set out upon the
+table a microscopic set of chessmen. "Our Lady pardon me!" he continued.
+"I often pass my spare time in the confessional in working out some
+problem."
+
+The chessmen being set out, the players took their seats, and were soon
+absorbed in the excitement of the game.
+
+This strange contest, between a priest and a condemned prisoner, made a
+picture worthy of the brush of Rembrandt or Salvator Rosa. The light
+which streamed from the arched windows fell upon the pale, noble
+features of Don Gusman, and upon the venerable head of Ruy Lopez.
+
+The emotions of the two players were very different. Ruy Lopez played
+with a preoccupation which was not usual to him, and which rendered him
+much inferior to his ordinary strength. Don Gusman, on the contrary,
+stimulated by excitement, played with more than his ordinary skill. At
+this moment his noble Castilian blood did not fail him, for never had
+the Duke given better proof of the clearness of his mind. Such a flash
+of intellect must be compared to the last flickers of the failing lamp,
+or to the last song of the dying swan.
+
+Don Gusman suddenly attacked his adversary with an impetuosity which
+nearly gained him a certain victory; but Ruy Lopez, recalled to himself
+by this vigorous effort, defended himself bravely. The game became more
+and more complicated. The Bishop strove to gain a mate which he saw, or
+believed he saw, at hand, whilst Don Gusman played with the eagerness of
+certain victory. Everything was forgotten, and time passed unnoticed.
+The chess-board was their universe, and a life of anxiety was in each
+move.
+
+The minutes, the quarters, the half-hours flew by, and the fatal hour
+arrived at last.
+
+A distant sound struck on their ears; it grew nearer, it increased, and
+the door swinging open gave admittance to Calavar and his assistants,
+who advanced into the cell with torches in their hands. They were armed
+with swords, and two of them bore the block, covered with a black cloth,
+on which lay an axe.
+
+[Illustration: "THE GAME BECAME MORE AND MORE COMPLICATED."]
+
+The torches were placed in the receptacle prepared for them, whilst one
+of the men scattered cedar sawdust on the floor. All this was the work
+of a moment, while the executioner stood waiting for the prisoner.
+
+As Calavar entered, Ruy Lopez started to his feet, in a tremor of alarm,
+but the Duke did not move. His eyes were fixed upon the chess-board. It
+was his turn to play. Calavar, seeing his abstracted gaze, advanced to
+the Duke's side and placed his hand upon his shoulder.
+
+"Come," he said.
+
+The prisoner shuddered as if he had trodden upon a serpent.
+
+"I must finish this game," he said, imperiously.
+
+"It is impossible," Calavar replied.
+
+"But, fellow, the game is mine! I can force mate in a few moves. Let me
+play it out."
+
+"I cannot. It is impossible," repeated the executioner.
+
+"Are the three hours gone already?"
+
+"The last stroke has just struck. We must obey the King."
+
+The assistants, who had until then stood leaning on their swords, came
+forward at these words.
+
+The Duke was sitting against the wall, under the high window, with the
+table between him and Calavar. He started to his feet.
+
+"I shall not move until the game is over. In half an hour my head shall
+be at your disposal."
+
+"My lord," replied Calavar, "I respect you deeply, but I cannot grant
+you this request. I answer for your life with mine."
+
+Don Gusman made a gesture of impatience, and pulling off his diamond
+rings, he threw them at the executioner's feet. "I mean to finish the
+game," he said, carelessly.
+
+The jewels sparkled as they rolled and settled in the dust.
+
+"My orders are imperative," cried Calavar, "and you must pardon us,
+noble Duke, if we have to use force; but the King's orders and the law
+of Spain must be carried out. Obey, then, and do not waste your last
+moments in a useless struggle. Speak to the Duke, my lord Bishop. Tell
+him to submit to his fate."
+
+Ruy Lopez's reply was as prompt as it was decisive. He seized the axe
+which lay upon the block and swung it with both hands above his head.
+
+"By Heaven!" he cried, "the Duke _shall_ finish his game!"
+
+Scared by the gesture which accompanied these words, Calavar drew back
+in such a fright that he stumbled and fell back on his companions. The
+swords flashed from their scabbards, and the band prepared for attack.
+But Ruy Lopez, who appeared to have put forth the strength of a
+Hercules, cast upon the ground his heavy wooden stool.
+
+"The first of you who passes this limit dies!" he cried in a loud voice.
+"Courage, Duke!--to the attack! There are only four of these miscreants.
+The last desire of your Grace shall be gratified, were I to lose my life
+in the attempt. And you, wretched man, beware how you lay a finger upon
+a Bishop of the Church. Down with your swords and respect the Lord's
+anointed!" And Ruy Lopez continued to hurl forth, in a jargon of
+Spanish and Latin, one of those formulas of excommunication and
+malediction which at that period acted so strongly upon the masses of
+the people.
+
+The effect was prompt. The men stood rooted to the spot with terror,
+whilst Calavar, thinking that to kill a Bishop without a sealed order
+from the King was to run the risk of putting his life in jeopardy in
+this world and his soul in the next, avowed himself vanquished. He knew
+not what to do next. To rush with the news to the King, who was waiting
+impatiently for Don Gusman's head, was only to expose himself. To attack
+the prisoner and the priest would be too hazardous, for Ruy Lopez was a
+man of no mean strength. The position of affairs was critical. At last
+he decided to take the easiest way out of the difficulty--to wait.
+
+"Will you promise me faithfully to give yourself up in half an hour?" he
+demanded of Don Gusman.
+
+"I promise," replied the Duke.
+
+"Play on, then," said the executioner.
+
+The truce being thus concluded, the players returned to their seats and
+their game, whilst Calavar and his companions, forming themselves into a
+circle, stationed themselves round the two players. Calavar, who was
+himself a chess player, looked on with interest, and could not prevent
+himself from involuntarily considering each move the players made.
+
+Don Gusman looked up for an instant upon the circle of faces which
+surrounded him, but his _sang froid_ did not abandon him.
+
+"Never have I played in the presence of such a noble company!" he cried.
+"Bear witness, rascals, that at least once in my life I have beaten Don
+Lopez." Then he returned to the game with a smile upon his lips. The
+Bishop gripped the handle of the axe which he still held in his hand.
+
+"If I were only sure of escaping from this tigers' den," he thought, "I
+would break every head of the four of them."
+
+
+III.
+
+If three hours had dragged in the prisoner's cell, they had not passed
+more quickly in the Royal chamber of King Philip.
+
+The King had finished his game with Don Ramirez de Biscay, and the
+nobles, still compelled from etiquette to remain standing, appeared
+almost ready to drop with fatigue, rendered still more painful from the
+weight of their armour.
+
+Don Tarraxas stood motionless, with closed eyes like one of those iron
+figures which ornamented the castles of the savage Goths. Young
+D'Ossuna, with drooping head, stood propped against a marble pillar,
+whilst King Philip strode impatiently about the apartment, only stopping
+at intervals to listen to some imaginary noise. According to the
+superstitious custom of the age, the King knelt for a few moments at the
+foot of a figure of the Virgin placed upon a porphyry pedestal to pray
+the Madonna to pardon him the deed of blood which was about to take
+place. Silence reigned, for no one, whatever his rank might be, dared to
+speak before his Sovereign without his commands.
+
+As the King's eyes saw the last grain of sand fall in the hour-glass he
+uttered an exclamation of joy.
+
+"The traitor dies!" he cried.
+
+An almost inaudible murmur ran through the assembly.
+
+"The hour is passed, Count of Biscay," said Philip, turning to Don
+Ramirez, "and with it your enemy."
+
+"My enemy, sire?" asked Ramirez, affecting surprise.
+
+"Why do you repeat my words, Count?" replied the King. "Were you not a
+rival to Don Gusman in the affections of Dona Estella, and can rivals be
+friends? Dona Estella shall be yours. This young girl will bring you her
+beauty and her fortune. I have not spoken of this to our Council, but my
+Royal word is pledged. If the ingratitude of Sovereigns is ever spoken
+of before you, Count, you will be able to reply that we did not forget
+the true friend of the King and of Spain who discovered the plot and the
+correspondence of Don Gusman with France."
+
+Don Ramirez de Biscay seemed to listen to the King with uneasiness. He
+kept his eyes fixed upon the ground, as if he disliked to be thus
+praised in public. Then he made an effort to reply.
+
+"Sire!" he said, "it was with great repugnance that I fulfilled such a
+painful duty"--he hesitated, and then was silent.
+
+Tarraxas gave a slight start, whilst D'Ossuna struck sharply the pommel
+of his sword with his iron glove.
+
+"Before Dona Estella shall belong to this man," thought D'Ossuna, "I
+will have vengeance or perish in the attempt. Tomorrow shall be the day
+of my revenge."
+
+The King continued:--
+
+"Your zeal, Don Ramirez, and your devotion must be rewarded. The saviour
+of our throne, and perhaps of our dynasty, merits a particular gift.
+This morning I ordered you to make out some _lettres-patentes_, which
+confer upon you the rank of Duke and Governor of Valence. Are these
+ready to be signed?"
+
+Don Ramirez grew pale with pleasure. He shook like an aspen and his eyes
+grew dim. But the King made an impatient movement, and the Count,
+drawing a roll of parchment hastily from his breast, presented it on his
+knees to the King.
+
+"My first public duty to-day shall be to sign these papers," said the
+King. "The executioner has already punished treason; it is now time for
+the King to recompense fidelity."
+
+The King unrolled the parchment and began to read. As he read, his face
+became convulsed with fury, and his eyes shot forth flames of wrath.
+
+"By my father's soul!" he shouted; "what do I behold?"
+
+
+IV.
+
+The game of chess was finished. Don Gusman had beaten Ruy Lopez, and his
+triumph was complete. He rose to his feet.
+
+"I am now, as ever, ready to obey the wishes of my King," he said to
+Calavar.
+
+The executioner understood him, and began to prepare the block. Whilst
+this was being done Don Gusman advanced towards the crucifix, and said
+in a firm voice:--
+
+"Oh, Heaven! may this unjust and rash act which is about to take place
+fall upon the head of him who is the instigator of this treachery; but
+let not my blood recoil upon the head of my King."
+
+[Illustration: "WHAT DO I BEHOLD?"]
+
+Ruy Lopez, crouching in a corner of the cell, and burying his face in
+his mantle, began to recite the prayers for the dying.
+
+Calavar approached Don Gusman, and putting his hand upon the Duke's
+shoulder began to loosen his ruff. Don Gusman shrank back from the
+contact.
+
+"Nothing that belongs to you, except this axe, shall touch a Gusman," he
+said, taking off his ruff himself and placing his head upon the block.
+"Strike!" he added, "I am ready!"
+
+The executioner raised the axe--the King's justice was at last to be
+satisfied, when shouts, rapid footsteps and confused voices arrested the
+sweep of the executioner's arm.
+
+The door gave way under the united efforts of a troop of armed men, and
+D'Ossuna, rushing into the cell, threw himself between the executioner
+and his victim. He was just in time.
+
+"He lives!" cried Tarraxas.
+
+"He is saved!" repeated D'Ossuna. "My beloved cousin, I never hoped to
+have seen you alive again. God in His mercy has not let the innocent
+perish for the guilty. God be praised!"
+
+"God be praised!" echoed all the spectators, and louder than the rest
+rang out the voice of Ruy Lopez.
+
+"You have arrived in time, my friend," said Don Gusman to his cousin;
+"but now I shall have no longer strength to die," and he sank back
+fainting on the block. The shock had been too much for him.
+
+Ruy Lopez seized the Duke in his arms, and, followed by all the nobles,
+bore him along the passages to the King's apartment. When Don Gusman
+opened his eyes he found himself in the midst of a circle of his
+friends, amongst which stood the King, looking down upon him with an
+expression of joy.
+
+Don Gusman could hardly believe his senses. From the axe and the block
+he had passed to the King's apartment. He did not understand why this
+change had taken place. He did not know that Don Ramirez, in giving his
+_lettres-patentes_ to the King to sign, had, in his agitation, given him
+instead a paper containing a plot in which he schemed to get rid for
+ever of Don Gusman, a detested rival, and one of the firmest supporters
+of the throne. He was ignorant of all that had passed, and did not know
+how he had escaped from the clutches of the executioner. It was some
+time before everything could be made clear to him.
+
+Three days afterwards, at the same hour as Gusman's miraculous delivery,
+Calavar beheaded Don Ramirez, Count of Biscay, traitor and false
+witness. Don Gusman was overwhelmed with congratulations on all sides.
+King Philip grasped him cordially by his hand.
+
+"Gusman," he said, "I have been very unjust. I can never forgive my
+folly."
+
+"Sire," replied the Duke, "let us speak of it no more. Such words spoken
+by my King are worth a thousand lives."
+
+But the King continued.
+
+"I desire," he said, "that henceforth, in commemoration of your almost
+miraculous deliverance, you carry upon your escutcheon a silver axe
+emblazoned on an azure chess-board. This month we shall celebrate your
+marriage with Dona Estella. The marriage shall take place in our
+Escurial Palace."
+
+Then he added, turning to Ruy Lopez:--
+
+"I believe that the Church will possess a good servant in its new
+Bishop. You shall be consecrated Lord Prelate, with a scarlet robe,
+enriched with diamonds; that will be the recompense of your game of
+chess with Don Gusman."
+
+"Sire," replied Don Lopez, "never before this day have I been satisfied
+to be checkmated."
+
+The King smiled, and the courtiers followed his example.
+
+"Now, my lords," continued Philip, "we invite you all to our Royal
+banquet. Let Don Gusman's seat be placed upon our right, and the Bishop
+of Segovia's on our left. Give me your arm, Don Gusman."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Illustrated Interviews
+
+XXL--MR. AND MRS. KENDAL.
+
+
+If one had waited for a few months, "The Kendals" would have been
+getting settled in their new home in Portland Place. But, then, the
+happiest associations are always centred around the old, and the
+pleasantest and frequently the dearest recollections are gathered about
+the familiar. That is why I went to them once more to their home of many
+years at 145, Harley Street.
+
+It would be difficult to realize a woman of more striking
+characteristics than she who was for so many years known as "Madge"
+Robertson, and notwithstanding a very important visit one morning in
+August twenty-three years ago to St. Saviour's, Plymouth Grove,
+Manchester, when she became the wife of Mr. William Hunter Grimston,
+there are many who still know and speak of her by her happily-remembered
+maiden name. From that day husband and wife have never played
+apart--they have remained sweethearts on the stage and lovers in their
+own home. At night--the footlights; by day--home and children. Mrs.
+Kendal assured me that neither her eldest daughter, Margaret, nor Ethel,
+nor Dorothy--the youngest--nor "Dorrie," who is now at Cambridge, nor
+Harold, a "Marlborough" boy, would ever go on the stage. Home, husband,
+and children--home, wife, and children, are the embodiment of the life
+led by the Kendals.
+
+[Illustration: THE DRAWING-ROOM
+
+_From a Photo by Elliott & Fry_.]
+
+Together with Mr. Kendal we sat down in the drawing-room, and were
+joined for a moment by Miss Grimston, a quiet, unaffected young girl,
+who looked as though she could never rid herself of a smile, either in
+her eyes or about her mouth--a young maiden who suggested "sunshine."
+She was carrying Victoria, a pet dog. The mother's whole thoughts seemed
+to go out to her daughter.
+
+"Our Jubilee dog," she cried. "I bought her on Jubilee Day, and,
+curiously enough, Mr. Kendal bought one too, neither of us telling the
+other we were going to make such canine purchases."
+
+Then, when Miss Grimston had left the room, her mother turned to me
+quietly, and said:--
+
+"The image of my brother Tom. The same hair, the same expression of
+eyes, the same kind and loving ways. I think he lives in my girl. Come
+with me and you shall see his portrait."
+
+It hung in Miss Grimston's boudoir--an apartment the walls of which were
+decorated with pictures of the Comedie-Francaise Company, the original
+designs for the dresses in "A Wife's Secret"; while over the
+mantel-board are Mr. and Mrs. Kendal in "The Ironmaster," and many
+family portraits are about.
+
+[Illustration: MISS GRIMSTON'S BOUDOIR.
+
+_From a Photo by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+"It is so amusing to hear people talk and write about my eldest brother
+Tom and me playing together as children," she said. "My mother was
+married when she was eighteen, and my brother was born when she was
+nineteen; I was born when she was forty-eight, and was her twenty-second
+child! So my brother was a grown man with a moustache when I knew him. I
+was brought up with his two children--little Tom and Maude, my own
+nephew and niece."
+
+What a delightful story it was! Little Madge Robertson used to dress up
+as a policeman and take Maude into custody before Tom, the younger, as
+the judge. And this was the trial:--
+
+"What is the prisoner charged with, constable?" asked the judge.
+
+"Murder, my lord," replied the representative of law and order.
+
+"Prisoner, are you guilty?"
+
+"Yes, my lord," answered the poor prisoner.
+
+"Prisoner, have you anything to say why sentence should not be passed
+upon you according to law?"
+
+"Yes, my lord. _I'm the daughter of the author of 'Caste'._"
+
+The prisoner always got off, and dear old William Robertson would watch
+this little scene and roar with laughter.
+
+"Yes," Mrs. Kendal said quietly, as we again looked at "Tom's" picture,
+"my brother was kindness itself, even from his infancy. I remember
+hearing how, when he was a very small boy and living with his aunt, he
+went out one summer's day with a new velvet jacket on. He caught sight
+of a poor little beggar child his own size, who was in tatters, and,
+beckoning him across, at once divested himself of his new coat, put it
+on the wondering youngster, and ran away home as fast as he could. His
+aunt questioned him, and upon finding out the true circumstances of the
+case, and not wishing to damp the kind spirit in the little fellow's
+heart, said:--
+
+"'Well, we'll go and try to find the boy you gave it to, and buy your
+jacket back.'
+
+"Fortunately the search was successful, and the coat was bought back for
+no less a sum than half-a-sovereign.
+
+"And in later years it was just the same with Tom. He could never pass
+by a common cookshop, in front of the windows of which was often a crowd
+of men, women, and children, looking on with longing eyes, without
+getting them inside and giving them a fill to their hearts' content.
+When out driving it was no different. He would stop the horse, and have
+all the watching hungry ones inside, and the next moment they would be
+revelling in the satisfying properties of thick slices of plum-pudding
+and roast beef."
+
+The house throughout is most artistic. Mr. Kendal is a painter of great
+merit, and he "knows" a picture as soon as he sees it. Pictures are his
+hobby; hence there is not a room in the house--even to the
+kitchen--which does not find a place for some canvas, etching, or
+engraving. The entrance-hall is at once striking, with its quaint
+thirteenth century furniture, bronzes, and Venetian ware. There are some
+fine engravings of Miss Brunton--who became Countess of Craven--Kemble,
+Garrick, Phelps, and Mrs. Siddons. A picture of Mrs. Kendal in "The
+Falcon" was done at the express wish of, and paid for by, the late Poet
+Laureate. Tennyson said it reminded him of a woman he liked and admired.
+In the shadow is a fine bust of Macready, given by the great actor to
+the father of Mrs. Kendal; resting against the fireplace on either side
+are the two lances used in "The Queen's Shilling," and close by are two
+huge masks representing a couple of very hirsute individuals. They came
+from California, and represent "The King of the Devils" and "The King of
+the Winds."
+
+[Illustration: THE HALL. (_From a Photo, by Elliott & Fry._)]
+
+[Illustration: THE DINING ROOM. (_From a Photo, by Elliott & Fry._)]
+
+The entrance to the dining-room is typical of all the other door
+decoration in the house--a carving of cream enamel of beautiful design
+and workmanship. The walls of this apartment are terra-cotta, with a
+finely carved oak-panelling. It is a little treasure room of canvases,
+the gem of which is probably C. Van Hannen's "Mask Shop in Venice"--a
+painter of a school which Luke Fildes, R.A., has done so much to
+popularize. Macbeth is represented by a couple of delightful efforts,
+and there are samples of the skill of Eugene Du Blas, Crofts, John Reid,
+Andriotti, Sadler, De Haas, Rivers; a grand landscape by Webb--nearly
+all of which are Academy works. The decorative articles are as artistic
+as in some cases they are peculiar. Running about above the oaken
+fireplace, amongst choice bronzes and blue ware, and a black boy who is
+trudging along with a very useful clock on his back, are many quaint
+animals of polished brass--even mice are not missing, with wonderfully
+long tails--that sparkle and glisten in the firelight. Ascending the
+staircase you find etchings after Alma Tadema, Briton Riviere, and
+others; the walls are covered with them.
+
+[Illustration: SCENE FROM "THE SQUIRE." _From the Picture by Mr.
+Kendal._]
+
+Here are a series of delightful pictures showing Mr. and Mrs. Kendal in
+Gilbert's "Sweethearts," and I am reminded that the gifted actor and
+actress were the first to appear before the Queen after a period of
+five-and-twenty years, during which Her Majesty had never seen a play,
+the performance that night consisting of "Sweethearts" and Theyre
+Smith's "Uncle's Will." And as one takes note of many rare works--the
+bedroom is almost entirely given up to Dore's marvellous creations,
+though near the window is a splendid specimen of the photographer's art:
+a head of Miss Mary Anderson--one cannot fail to observe the family
+spirit everywhere--sometimes portraits of children, sometimes small and
+dainty pencil studies made of them by their father. Occasionally
+theatrical sketches by Mr. Kendal appear. Here are some of the principal
+members of the old St. James's Company, who used to give Mr. Kendal
+sittings between the acts--here a capital bit of artistic work depicting
+a scene from "The Squire," made from stray memorandums and with the aid
+of a looking-glass for securing the actor-artist's face.
+
+Leaving Mr. Kendal for a time, Mrs. Kendal and I returned to the
+drawing-room. It overlooks Harley Street and is a handsome two-roomed
+apartment, the prevailing tone of blue, cream, and gold harmonizing to
+perfection. It is positively one huge collection of curios.
+
+The screen at the far end is rather shuddery, not to say creepy, to
+those of nervous temperament. It is decorated with tomahawks of fearful
+and wonderful shapes and sizes, and other Indian implements of warfare.
+
+"These came from California," Mrs. Kendal explained. "No sooner are you
+out of the train than the Indians tomahawk you! Look at this bow and
+arrow."
+
+The pots of palms and ferns all hold American flags. These colours--the
+stars and stripes--once surmounted baskets of flowers and floral
+emblems--five, six, and even seven feet high--handed to Mrs. Kendal
+during her recent tour in the States; and amongst the sweetly-perfumed
+blossoms diamonds, pearls, and other precious gems have glistened in the
+shape of ornaments. A table near the window tells you of the generosity
+of the Americans. It is crowded with silver ornaments and mementos. You
+may handle the diminutive silver candlesticks to light "The Kendals"
+away--silver jugs, souvenir spoons, frying-pans, coffee-pots--all in
+miniature. This silver dollar is only one of a hundred. You touch a
+spring, when, lo and behold! the portrait of the donor appears. All
+American women have dainty feet. These little ebony and silver lasts for
+your boots remind you of this. On this table is a letter from the
+Princess of Wales, thanking Mrs. Kendal for "the lovely silver wedding
+bells and flowers which you so kindly sent me on the tenth." You may
+examine George IV.'s cigar-case--a silver tube in which the King was
+wont to carry a single cigar. It is impossible to number all the
+treasured odds and ends, but still more difficult to total up the
+miniature articles set out in a pair of cabinets.
+
+[Illustration: NAPOLEON'S WRITING-TABLE _From a Photo by Elliott &
+Fry._]
+
+[Illustration: "SHAKESPEARE AND BACON" _From the Picture by A. E.
+Emslie._]
+
+Mrs. Kendal has a hobby--it lies in the collecting of the tiniest of
+tiny things. If her intimate friends come across any curiosity
+particularly choice and small, it is at once snapped up and dispatched
+to Harley Street. I had some little leaden mice in my hand the size of
+half-a-dozen pins' heads. Handkerchiefs an inch square, babies' woollen
+shoes, pinafores, shirts, all of the tiniest, but perfectly made, with
+buttons and button-holes complete, and even buns with currants no bigger
+than a pin's point. Sheep, dogs, cats, monkeys, pigs, giraffes--in
+short, convert the entire Zoo into miniature china knick-knacks, and you
+have a considerable portion of Mrs. Kendal's collection realized. One
+must needs stand for a moment at Napoleon's writing-table, near which
+rests a characteristic clay by Van Beers. The pictures here are many.
+Millais' work is well represented by several etchings, and a remarkably
+clever thing by Emslie, entitled "Shakespeare and Bacon," suggests the
+two extremes of taste to a nicety. Whilst a young enthusiast is
+declaiming Shakespeare, one of his listeners--doubtless, equally
+enthusiastic, but with an eye for victuals--is interrupting a soliloquy
+with the remark: "Now! who says bacon?" Every portrait has a
+history--Prince and Princess Henry of Battenberg in their wedding
+garments, the late Duke of Albany, Professor Huxley, Mrs. Beecher
+Stowe, Mr. and Mrs. Pinero, Mr. and Mrs. Bancroft, and many others.
+Three suggestive pictures, however, cannot be passed by. This dear
+little fellow is the son of Mr. B. J. Farjeon. Mr. Farjeon married "Rip
+Van Winkle" Jefferson's daughter, and the youngster is pictured dressed
+in the tattered garments of merry, rollicking _Rip_. You know how _Rip_
+always drinks your health? He holds the glass of hollands high up and
+cries, "Here's your health and your family's good health, and may they
+all live long and prosper!" but Mr. Farjeon's little boy cries out,
+"Here's your health, and your family's good health, and may you all live
+long and _proper_!"
+
+[Illustration: GROUP IN CLAY BY JAN VAN BEERS.]
+
+[Illustration: MRS. KENDAL AS "GALATEA"]
+
+A photo, of Dr. Pancoast stands near a bust of Mrs. Kendal as _Galatea_,
+done when she was seventeen. Dr. Pancoast--a celebrated American
+physician--saved Mrs. Kendal's life when her maid accidentally
+administered a poisonous drug to her mistress. The poor girl herself
+nearly died of fright.
+
+But perhaps the portrait of the late Duchess of Cambridge, which Mrs.
+Kendal now holds in her hand, is more interesting than them all. "Her
+late Royal Highness," Mrs. Kendal said, "always addressed me and wrote
+to me as Mrs. Grimston. She was paralyzed in her right hand and wrote
+with her left; perhaps that is why this letter, written in pencil and
+with great effort, is treasured more than it otherwise would have been."
+
+It was one of the last letters written by Her Royal Highness. The
+letters and words were wonderfully legible; it read:--
+
+     "DEAR MRS. GRIMSTON,--One line only to thank you for sending me
+     the stalls for my dressers, who enjoyed your and Mr. Grimston's
+     charming acting immensely. My first deaf one was able to follow
+     perfectly, thanks to your having kindly let her have the book
+     previously. Again thanking you,
+
+    "I remain,
+
+        "Yours very sincerely,
+            AUGUSTA."
+
+
+
+And in a little cabinet in the far corner is a beautiful Sevres bowl. In
+the bowl is a telegram from "Princess Mary," asking Mrs. Kendal to come
+to St. James's Palace at once. Written on a black-edged envelope were
+these words: "To dearest Mrs. Grimston Kendal. A little souvenir. Found
+amongst the last wishes of her late Royal Highness the Duchess of
+Cambridge."
+
+It is only just possible to hasten through the collection of substantial
+reminiscences which add to the charm of this corner of the house. The
+quaint white china hare was given to Mrs. Kendal many years ago by Mr.
+John Hare, when playing together at the Court. A curious but vividly
+suggestive idea of Japanese wit, in the shape of a couple of
+characteristically dressed figures, typifies "Health" and "Wealth"; the
+figure, representing "Health" has a countenance of the deepest red, the
+other a face all golden and as resplendent as the sun. In a small frame
+is the letter from the Goethe Club of New York, making Mrs. Kendal an
+honorary member. She is the only woman member of this club. And this
+pretty little doll dressed as a Quakeress--a charming compliment to the
+recipient--was presented by the Quakeresses of Philadelphia, who never,
+never, never go the play, yea, verily! So they sent this as a tribute of
+their admiration for the talents and character of the woman who has been
+called "The Matron of the Drama."
+
+[Illustration: MRS. KENDALL'S LITTLE QUAKERESS.]
+
+We sat down on a settee in front of the fire. The cushions were of white
+lawn marked with the initial "M.," and were worked by the late Lady
+Eglinton.
+
+Mrs. Kendal's happy and homely face is familiar to all. She has a truly
+tender and sympathetic expression there at all times. Her hair was once
+that of the fair one with golden locks, now it is of a rich brown
+colour--very neatly and naturally trimmed about her head. She is very
+kind--very motherly; just the woman you would single out in time of
+trouble and ask, "What would you advise me to do?" I gathered these
+impressions whilst listening to many things she said of which I need not
+write. Her views on theatrical life are strong, nay, severe. She is not
+afraid to speak, and she hits hard and sends her shots home. But you
+cannot mistake the earnestness of her manner, the true intent of her
+motives.
+
+"I am only a common-place woman," she said to me. "I used to be ever so
+light-hearted--now, I'm a morbid creature. Here we are sitting down by
+the fireside. I may tell you happy reminiscences that may make one
+merry, and all the time I should be thinking about--what? Cancer! I
+return to my dressing-room from the stage at night. As I am passing
+along a fellow player may turn to me and say, 'How well the play has
+gone to-night!' I am only thinking of those who have trod that same
+stage before me. What are they now? Dust--earth--worms!"
+
+I stirred the fire, and the bright glow from its burning embers lit up
+the corner where we sat. And we talked together.
+
+Margaret Brunton Robertson was born at Great Grimsby on March 15th,
+1849--curiously enough these lines will be read on the anniversary of
+her birthday. Her grandfather, father, and uncle were all actors.
+
+"I lived alone with my father and mother," she said, "and the only real
+recollection I have of my father is his fine white beard, which he grew
+towards the latter days of his life, and a little advice he once gave
+me.
+
+"'Always count twenty,' he said, 'when you are walking across the quay
+at Bristol, then you won't hear the sailors swear!' Yet he would use
+very bad language to me when he was teaching me my parts; for you know I
+commenced acting at a very early age. I was only three when I made my
+first appearance--and I ruined the play. It was at the Marylebone
+Theatre in the 'Three Poor Travellers,' and I was a blind child. My
+nurse was in the front row of the pit--that is, in the very first row,
+for there were no stalls. All I thought about was my new shoes--a very
+pretty, dainty little pair, and as soon as I stepped on the stage, I
+opened my eyes, caught sight of the delighted face of my nurse, and
+cried out:--
+
+"'Oh! nursey, dear, look at my new shoes!'
+
+"I played at Chute's Theatre in Bristol in many child's parts. When my
+father went to the wall over the Lincoln Circuit, Mr. Chute engaged him
+as an actor, and I went with him. I remember in 'A Midsummer Night's
+Dream'--I was _Mustard Seed_, I think, or _Peas Blossom_; at any rate,
+some small character that required very prettily dressing, and plenty of
+flowers on my little costume. I am as fond of flowers to-day as I was
+then. Well, when once I got on the stage in my pretty dress--of which I
+was particularly proud--before I would leave it, I had to be bought off
+with apples and oranges! There they would stand at the wings, and the
+price would go up--up--up--two oranges, three oranges, three oranges
+and two apples--until I inwardly murmured a childish equivalent for
+'sold,' and toddled off.
+
+"I acted _Eva_ in 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' when I was eight. I think I was
+always a sad child--I looked forty when I was fifteen. After little
+_Eva_ I used to play anything."
+
+And they were hard times for little Madge--she worked like the brave
+little woman she was. Her childish thoughts were constantly with her
+parents--how best could she add to the weekly income. And this is what
+the same little Madge would do. Night after night, after playing in a
+serious piece, she would appear in burlesque, sing, dance, and crack her
+small jokes with the best of them. It was hard work that made her a
+woman--it was dearly-bought experience that gave birth to the
+sympathetic heart she has to-day.
+
+[Illustration: MRS. KENDAL. _From a Photo. by Bassano._]
+
+So at fourteen she was a woman grown--and at fifteen at Hull played
+_Lady Macbeth_ to Phelps's _Macbeth_!
+
+"I was dressed in my mother's clothes," Mrs. Kendal said, "and I fear I
+must have looked a fearful guy!"
+
+At rehearsal Phelps looked upon the young woman.
+
+"And who--who is this child?" asked the great actor.
+
+"Madge Robertson," the manager answered; "a rare favourite here. It was
+a choice between her and a very old woman, Mr. Phelps."
+
+"Then let the young woman play, by all means," Phelps said.
+
+What a night it was! At the end of the play they wanted her on again,
+but Phelps was obdurate. A party of men came round, and threatened to
+throw Phelps into the Humber! Phelps remained firm.
+
+"He was kindness itself through it all," Mrs. Kendal assured me, "and
+though I did not go on again, he proved his thoughtfulness a little
+later on by sending for me to play _Lady Teazle_. I played the leading
+parts during the three nights Phelps remained in Hull in 'The Man of the
+World,' 'Richelieu,' and 'Macbeth.' On July 29th, 1865, I made my
+_debut_ in London, at the Haymarket, as _Ophelia_ to the _Hamlet_ of
+Walter Montgomery. Poor Montgomery! He was what you would call a
+'lady-killer'--very conceited, but, withal, very kind. He once wrote a
+letter to my father, and added a postscript, saying: 'Keep this letter.
+Should poverty fall upon you or yours, your great-grand-children may be
+able to sell it for a good sum of money!' I was only with him six
+weeks."
+
+The only play of her brother's in which Mrs. Kendal has appeared was
+"Dreams," when the Gaiety first opened. At this time the managers always
+tried to induce Mrs. Kendal to appear in a riding habit--a costume in
+which she looked strikingly handsome.
+
+"Alfred Wigan played in 'Dreams,'" continued Mrs. Kendal. "His wife was
+one of the kindest women I ever met. She gave me a gold bracelet for a
+very curious little service I used to render her husband every night. He
+had to sing a song in 'Dreams,' and one or two of the high notes were
+beyond his reach. I used to take these notes for him, and the audience
+never guessed the truth."
+
+"And have you not played _Desdemona_?" I asked.
+
+"Oh! yes--and to a real black man, and so he did not have to put his
+head up the chimney to make himself up for the part! His name was Ira
+Aldridge, and scandal said he was the dresser of some great actor whom
+he used to imitate. But he had very ingenious ideas as to the character
+of _Othello_. He thought him a brute, and played him as such. His great
+notion was to get the fairest woman possible for _Desdemona_--and I was
+selected, for at that time my hair was quite golden.
+
+"In one part of the play he would cry out, 'Give me thy hand,
+Desdemona!' and certainly the effect of my hand in his huge grasp was
+impressive. Then in the last act he would pull me from the couch by the
+hair of my head. Oh! there was something in his realism, I can tell
+you!"
+
+Miss Robertson made a great sensation when she appeared as _Blanche
+Dumont_, in Dr. Westland Marston's "Hero of Romance," when it was
+performed for the first time at the Haymarket Theatre, on March 14th,
+1868. Seventeen months after this, on August 7th, 1869, she was Madge
+Robertson no longer. On that day she was married to Mr. William Hunter
+Grimston, whose stage name is Kendal. It is a charming little story.
+
+It occurred at Manchester. Mr. Kendal and Miss Robertson were on tour
+with the elder Compton, and they were--sweethearts. A convenient time
+seemed to have arrived for their wedding day, for on the Thursday,
+Friday, and Saturday nights pieces were to be played in which neither of
+them would be required. This would mean a nice little honeymoon--and the
+two lovers would reappear on the Monday night. So the day was
+fixed--Thursday; the church chosen--St. Saviour's, Plymouth Grove; and
+the best man booked--Walter Gowing, who used to play under the name of
+Walter Gordon.
+
+Then bad news came. Compton's brother was taken ill, and he had to hurry
+away from Cottonopolis. Another play had to be put in the bill, both Mr.
+Kendal and Miss Robertson would be needed--for it was "As You Like It,"
+and the one would be wanted for _Orlando_ and the other for _Rosalind_.
+Still, the wedding was proceeded with on Thursday morning, quietly and
+happily, and in the evening husband and wife met on the stage in the
+Forest of Arden. There, with _Celia_ as the priest, amidst the leafy
+trees and grassy pathways, _Orlando_ turns to the merry _Celia_, and
+pointing to the far, far happier _Rosalind_, cries out:--
+
+"Pray thee, marry us!"
+
+"Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rosalind?"
+
+"I will."
+
+"Then," _Rosalind_ pertly remarks, "you must say, 'I take thee,
+Rosalind, for wife.'"
+
+"I take thee, Rosalind, for wife," said _Orlando_, earnestly.
+
+Then _Rosalind_ asked, "Now tell me how long you would have her after
+you have possessed her?"
+
+And _Orlando_ replied--both in the words of Shakespeare and in the
+language of his own heart--"For ever and a day!"
+
+That is the true story of the wedding of Mr. and Mrs. Kendal. It was a
+natural desire of each never to play apart from the other, and from that
+day they have never separated. For some seven years Mr. and Mrs. Kendal
+played at the Haymarket, under Buckstone's management, and the gifted
+actress merrily referred to the little jokes played on "Bucky" by some
+of the actors. He was stone deaf, and could only take his cues when to
+speak from the movements of his fellow-actors' lips, so they would annoy
+him by continuing the lip movement, and "Bucky" sometimes got "stuck."
+
+[Illustration: THE DRAWING-ROOM. _From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+Little need be said of Mrs. Kendal's subsequent work--her acting at the
+Court, the Prince of Wales's, and her labours at the St. James's, when,
+in 1881, she appeared there under the joint management of Mr. Kendal and
+Mr. Hare. Not only in this country has her name become fondly familiar
+in the homes of those who "go to the theatre" and those who "never
+would," but in America the artistic acting of herself and husband has
+been instantly and enthusiastically recognised.
+
+I left the drawing-room--pausing, before entering Mr. Kendal's study, to
+admire the aviary--a veritable home of song--and to notice one
+diminutive member of the feathered tribe in particular, who has been
+taught by Miss Grimston to perform tricks _ad lib._, in addition to
+giving forth the sweetest of notes.
+
+The study is a very delicate apartment in terra-cotta and gold--here and
+there are quaint blue china vases and many exquisite bronzes. The window
+in the recess where the table is--a typical study table, suggesting
+plenty of work--is of stained glass, the quartet of divisions
+representing the four seasons. A glance round the walls of this room at
+once reveals the substantial side of Mr. Kendal's artistic
+hobby--pictures. In this apartment there is nothing but water-colours,
+save a very clever pen-and-ink sketch by a New York artist, called "Six
+Months After Marriage," which Jefferson caught sight of at the New York
+Dramatic Bazaar, and reminded Mr. Kendal to "keep his eye on," and a
+portrait or two of Mrs. Kendal and the children. "Hetty Sorrell" at her
+butter pats, with her thoughts very far from the churning-pan, is a gem.
+"The Last of St. Bartholomew" is a magnificent bit of painting, and the
+Venetian views at once carry one back to the home of the merry gondolier
+and perfect moonlight nights. This picture of Salvini--who its possessor
+assured me was the finest tragedian he had ever seen--was painted by Mr.
+Kendal himself. The bookcase, running along opposite the window,
+contains many rare first editions, of which Mr. Kendal is a very
+persevering and successful collector, and a bound manuscript copy of
+every play produced by him, together with the original sketches for the
+scenery. You may look over the "Scrap of Paper," "The Falcon," "Queen's
+Shilling," "Ladies' Battle," "Clancarty," "The Ironmaster," "The Money
+Spinner," and "The Squire"--Pinero's play, of which somebody wrote that
+it wafted the scent of the new-mown hay across the footlights.
+
+[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF SALVANI, BY MR. KENDAL.]
+
+It is interesting to learn how Mr. Kendal first came across Pinero.
+
+"I only knew him as an actor at the Lyceum," he said, "and had never met
+him. He wrote and asked if we would let him read a play to us. As a rule
+we never do that; but, remembering that Pinero was himself a player, we
+made an exception. So it came about that one day, after a rehearsal, the
+actor playwright read his piece to us in the _foyer_ of the St. James's.
+We never expected anything at first, but the reading ended in our taking
+the play immediately, though we scarcely knew what we should do with it,
+seeing it was a two-act play. We found an opportunity, however, and you
+know the success it was. It was called 'The Money Spinner.'"
+
+Mr. Kendal is a striking-looking man--the very ideal of a picturesque
+soldier, with a constitution of steel. He talks to you frankly, easily,
+for there is not two penny-worth of presumption about him. He lives and
+labours very quietly--he enjoys his days, and a good cigar. He divides
+his talents between the stage and the brush. His pencil and palette have
+been with him in far-off places, and there is always a corner in his
+bag for them if he only travels twenty miles from Harley Street. His
+peculiarity of painting--so to speak--lies in the fact that he never
+fails to chronicle the view obtained from any hotel where he may be
+staying. He showed me a book full of these hasty impressions--all of
+which were most beautifully done--many of them he could only give ten
+minutes or a quarter of an hour to. Two of these I brought away for
+reproduction in these pages; they are both unfinished, however--the
+pencil reminders of certain little additions tell that.
+
+[Illustration: SKETCH FROM THE QUEEN's HOTEL, MANCHESTER, BY MR.
+KENDAL.]
+
+The first of these is a view of the Infirmary as seen from Mr. Kendal's
+window at the Queen's Hotel, Manchester; the second--done in a quarter
+of an hour--shows the way the Americans erect their buildings for
+exhibiting a cyclorama--popularly known here as a panorama. It was done
+from a back window in an hotel in Cleveland, U.S.A. The actor-artist
+never learnt drawing, save for a few hours' lessons he took at the Slade
+Schools under the tuition of Le Gros. He draws everything that impresses
+him--his painting memory is remarkable. He sees a man's face in the
+street, carries it home in his mind, and it will be very faithfully put
+on paper or canvas.
+
+We talked for a long time on "pictures"--he was so happy and earnest
+about it that it was some time before we made an attempt to tread the
+boards and get behind the footlights.
+
+Mr. Kendal--William Hunter Grimston--was born at Notting Hill, and just
+outside the sound of Bow Bells, on December 16th, 1843. His parents
+belonged to the Low Church, and their views of the theatre in general,
+and on adopting the stage as a profession in particular, will be readily
+understood. Mr. Kendal was intended for the Army--how he came to "go on"
+the stage is best told in his own words:
+
+"I had only been to three or four pantomimes previously," he said, "and
+one night--I was about eighteen years of age at the time--I found myself
+in the stalls of the old Soho Theatre, in Dean Street, Soho, now known
+as the Royalty Theatre. My paper and pencil were out, and I was busily
+engaged in making sketches of the various actors and actresses. The
+piece was 'Billie Taylor.' Suddenly I felt a gentle tap on the shoulder
+from behind. I turned round.
+
+"'Would you allow me to take those sketches round and show the 'parties'
+interested?' a gentleman asked.
+
+"'Certainly; with pleasure,' I replied.
+
+"'Perhaps you would like to come behind the scenes as well?'
+
+"It was just what I wanted, so I followed the person who had so kindly
+interested himself in my scribble. He proved to be Mr. Mowbray, the
+manager of the theatre. The picture behind the scenes that night was a
+perfect Elysium to me. I think Mowbray must have noticed the impression
+it made upon me, for he asked if I would like to go on the stage. I
+did--as a sort of super."
+
+[Illustration: SKETCH FROM HOTEL WINDOW, CLEVELAND, U.S.A., BY MR.
+KENDAL.]
+
+Mr. Kendal's first important engagement lasted four or five years at the
+Theatre Royal, Glasgow. Here he met and played with such people as Helen
+Faucit (Lady Martin), G. V. Brooke, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Kean, Dion
+Boucicault, Fechter, Miss Bateman (Mrs. Crowe), and the elder Sothern.
+When Sothern left, the accomplished young actor played _Dundreary_, and
+found himself straying in the footsteps of the famous originator of the
+part, even to the hop. One would have thought that people would have
+praised the actor for taking such a worthy example--but it displeased
+Tom Taylor, and he wrote very wrathfully. Then Mr. Kendal went to the
+Haymarket, met Miss Robertson, and from their wedding day their lives
+may be said to have been the same in thought, word, and deed.
+
+As an organizer and man of business his tact and judgment were tested
+and proved during his joint management of the St. James's with Mr. Hare
+in 1881. For some time previous to this Mr. Kendal had been on the
+look-out for a theatre, and his mind wandered towards the St. James's,
+but it required a large sum of money spending on it before it could be
+opened.
+
+"One night I was talking to Lord Newry at my club," said Mr. Kendal,
+"and happened to say that if L2,000 or so were spent on the St. James's
+I might feel inclined to take it.
+
+"'Suppose I spend that amount of money on the place, will you take it?'
+Lord Newry asked.
+
+"My only reply was that I would think about it. In the meantime I went
+to the Court, from there to the Prince of Wales's to play in
+'Diplomacy'--it ran a year--'Peril' and 'London Assurance.' Then I
+returned to the Court again, and during this time Lord Newry had
+practically gutted the old and unlucky St. James's, turned it inside
+out--John Hare, my wife and self entered, and we remained there nearly
+ten years."
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Kendal share the same opinion of America--it is the land of
+to-day, the land of the future. As to its theatres in comparison with
+ours, Mrs. Kendal--who had now joined us--was most enthusiastic. I had
+reached the pillars, from which hung curtains of intricate Japanese
+workmanship, leading to the hall. Victoria, the Jubilee dog, was barking
+a friendly "Good-bye," and the lusty throats of Miss Grimston's
+two-and-twenty canaries forced their sweet notes from a far-away room
+into the passage.
+
+"I will give you some idea of what an American theatre is like," said
+Mrs. Kendal. "You reach your destination by rail at some small place for
+a one-night stay. If it is raining and the ground is wet, men in long
+jack-boots catch hold of you and gallantly take you across the puddles.
+You do not see a soul about--and you are in fear and trembling as to
+where your night's audience is coming from. You get to your hotel, and
+then your next thought is--where is the theatre? You expect to find a
+little, uncomfortable, band-box of a place, and you set out to see it
+with a heavy heart. It is a palace--a marble palace--a positive poem!
+And your heart leaps happily--only to drop dull again, for you suddenly
+remember that you have seen--nobody, not even the oldest inhabitant. You
+turn to the manager.
+
+"'Yes, yes--but, what about an audience, how are you going to fill it?'
+you ask.
+
+"'Wall,' he replies, 'I don't trouble myself much about that. I reckon
+that every seat in this theatre is sold for to-night, that's all!'"
+
+    HARRY HOW.
+
+[Illustration: MR. KENDAL. _From a Photo. by Maurice Stephens,
+Harrogat._]
+
+
+
+
+"_Author! Author_!"
+
+BY E. W. HORNUNG.
+
+
+This story has to do with two men and a play, instead of a woman, and it
+is none of mine. I had it from an old gentleman I love: only he ought to
+have written it himself. This, however, he will never do; having known
+intimately in his young days one of the two men concerned. But I have
+his leave to repeat the story more or less as he told it--if I can. And
+I am going to him for my rebuke--when I dare.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"You want to hear the story of poor old Pharazyn and his play? I'm now
+going to tell it you.
+
+"Ah, well! My recollection of the matter dates from one summer's night
+at my old rooms in the Adelphi, when he spoilt my night's work by coming
+in flushed with an idea of his own. I remember banging the drawer into
+which I threw my papers to lock them away for the night; but in a few
+minutes I had forgotten my unfinished article, and was glad that
+Pharazyn had come. We were young writers, both of us; and, let me tell
+you, my good fellow, young writing wasn't in those days what it is now.
+I am thinking less of merit than of high prices, and less of high prices
+than of cheap notoriety. Neither of us had ever had our names before the
+public--not even in the advertised contents of an unread and unreadable
+magazine. No one cared about names in my day, save for the half-dozen
+great ones that were then among us; so Pharazyn's and mine never used to
+appear in the newspapers, though some of them used our stuff.
+
+"In a manner we were rivals, for we were writing the same sort of thing
+for the same sort of publications, and that was how we had come
+together; but never was rivalry friendlier, or mutually more helpful.
+Our parts were strangely complementary; if I could understand for the
+life of me the secret of collaboration, which has always been a mystery
+to me, I should say that I might have collaborated with Pharazyn almost
+ideally. I had the better of him in point of education, and would have
+turned single sentences against him for all he was worth; and I don't
+mind saying so, for there my superiority ended. When he had a story to
+tell, he told it with a swing and impetus which I coveted him, as well I
+might to this day; and if he was oftener without anything to write
+about, his ideas would pay twenty shillings in the pound, in strength
+and originality, where mine made some contemptible composition in pence.
+That is why I have been a failure at fiction--oh, yes, I have! That is
+why Pharazyn would have succeeded, if only he had stuck to plain
+ordinary narrative prose.
+
+[Illustration: "HE SKETCHED THE NEW STORY."]
+
+"The idea he was unable to keep within his own breast, on the evening of
+which I am telling you, was as new, and simple, and dramatic as any that
+ever intoxicated the soul of story-teller or made a brother author green
+with envy. I can see him now, as I watched him that night, flinging to
+and fro with his quick, nervous stride, while he sketched the new
+story--bit by bit, and often the wrong bit foremost; but all with his
+own flashing vividness, which makes me so sorry--so sorry whenever I
+think of it. At moments he would stand still before the chair on which I
+sat intent, and beat one hand upon the other, and look down at me with a
+grand, wondering smile, as though he himself could hardly believe what
+the gods had put into his head, or that the gift was real gold, it
+glittered so at first sight. On that point I could reassure him. My open
+jealousy made me admire soberly. But when he told me, quite suddenly, as
+though on an afterthought, that he meant to make a play of it and not a
+story, I had the solid satisfaction at that moment of calling him a
+fool.
+
+"The ordinary author of my day, you see, had a certain timorous respect
+for the technique of the stage. It never occurred to us to make light of
+those literary conventions which it was not our business to understand.
+We were behind you fellows in every way. But Pharazyn was a sort of
+forerunner: he said that any intelligent person could write a play, if
+he wanted to, and provided he could write at all. He said his story was
+a born play; and it was, in a way; but I told him I doubted whether he
+could train it up with his own hand to be a good-acting one. I knew I
+was right. He had neither the experience nor the innate constructive
+faculty, one or other of which is absolutely necessary for the writing
+of possible plays. I implored him to turn the thing into a good dramatic
+novel, and so make his mark at one blow. But no; the fatal fit was on
+him, and I saw that it must run its course. Already he could see and
+hear his audience laughing and crying, so he said, and I daresay he
+could also feel the crinkle of crisp weekly receipts. I only know that
+we sat up all night over it, arguing and smoking and drinking whisky
+until my windows overlooking the river caught the rising sun at an
+angle. Then I gave in. For poor old Pharazyn was more obstinate than
+ever, though he thanked me with the greatest good temper for my
+well-meant advice.
+
+"'And look here, my boy,' says he, as he puts on his hat, 'you shan't
+hear another word about this till the play's written; and you are to ask
+no questions. Is that a bargain? Very well, then. When I've finished
+it--down to the very last touches--_you_ shall come and sit up all night
+with _me_, and I'll read you every word. And by gad, old chap, if they
+give me a call the first night, and want a speech--and I see you sitting
+in your stall, like a blessed old fool as you are--by gad, sir, I'll
+hold up you and your judgment to the ridicule of the house, so help me
+never!'
+
+[Illustration: "I COULD SMELL HIS PIPE THROUGH THE KEYHOLE."]
+
+"Well, I am coming to that first night presently. Meanwhile, for the
+next six months, I saw very little of Pharazyn, and less still in the
+new year. He seldom came to my rooms now; when he did I could never get
+him to stay and sit up with me; and once when I climbed up to his garret
+(it was literally that), he would not answer me, though I could smell
+his pipe through the key-hole, in which he had turned the key. Yet he
+was perfectly friendly whenever we did meet. He said he was working very
+hard, and indeed I could imagine it; his personal appearance, which he
+had never cherished, being even untidier, and I am obliged to add
+seedier, than of old. He continued to send me odd magazines in which his
+stuff happened to appear, or occasionally a proof for one's opinion and
+suggestions; we had done this to each other all along; but either I did
+not think about it, or somehow he led me to suppose that his things were
+more or less hot from the pen, whereas many of mine had been written a
+twelvemonth before one saw them in type. One way or another, I gathered
+that he was at work in our common groove, and had shelved, for the
+present at all events, his proposed play, about which you will remember
+I had undertaken to ask no questions.
+
+"I was quite mistaken. One night in the following March he came to me
+with a haggard face, a beaming eye, and a stout, clean manuscript, which
+he brought down with a thud on my desk. It was the play he had sketched
+out to me eight or nine months before. I was horrified to hear he had
+been at work upon it alone from that night to this. He had written, so
+he said, during all this time, not another line, only each line of his
+play some ten times over.
+
+"I recollect looking curiously at his shabby clothes, and then reminding
+him that it was at his place, not mine, I was to have heard him read the
+play: and how he confessed that he had no chair for me there--that his
+room was, in fact, three parts dismantled--that he had sacrificed
+everything to the play, which was worth it. I was extremely angry. I
+could have helped him so easily, independent as I was of the calling I
+loved to follow. But there was about him always an accursed, unnecessary
+independence, which has since struck me--and I think I may say so after
+all these years--as the mark of a rather humble, very honest origin.
+
+"He read me the play, and I cried over the third act, and so did he. I
+thought then, and still think, that there was genius in that third
+act--it took you off your feet. And to me, certainly, it seemed as if
+the piece must act as well as it read, though indeed, as I took care to
+say and to repeat, my opinion was well-nigh valueless on that point. I
+only knew that I could see the thing playing itself, as I walked about
+the room (for this time I was the person who was too excited to sit
+still), and that was enough to make one sanguine. I became as
+enthusiastic about it as though the work were mine (which it never,
+never would or could have been), yet I was unable to suggest a single
+improvement, or to have so much as a finger-tip in the pie. Nor could I
+afterwards account for its invariable reception at the hands of
+managers, whose ways were then unknown to me. That night we talked only
+of one kind of reception. We were still talking when the sun came
+slanting up the river to my windows; you could hardly see them for
+tobacco-smoke, and we had emptied a bottle of whisky to the success of
+Pharazyn's immortal play.
+
+[Illustration: "HIS MANUSCRIPT RAGGED BUT UNREAD."]
+
+"Oh, those nights--those nights once in a way! God forgive me, but I'd
+sacrifice many things to be young again and feel clever, and to know the
+man who would sit up all night with me to rule the world over a bottle
+of honest grog. In the pale light of subsequent revelations I ought,
+perhaps, to recall such a night, with that particular companion,
+silently and in spiritual ashes. But it is ridiculous, in my opinion, to
+fit some sort of consequence to every little insulated act; nor will I
+ever admit that poor Pharazyn's ultimate failing was in any appreciable
+degree promoted or prepared for by those our youthful full-souled
+orgies. I know very well that afterwards, when his life was spent in
+waylaying those aforesaid managers, in cold passages, on stage
+doorsteps, or, in desperation, under the public portico on the street;
+and when a hundred snubs and subterfuges would culminate in the return
+of his manuscript, ragged but unread: I know, and I knew then, that the
+wreck who would dodge me in Fleet Street, or cut me in the Strand, had
+taken to his glass more seriously and more steadily than a man should.
+But I am not sure that it matters much--_much_, you understand me--when
+that man's heart is broken.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"The last words I was ever to exchange with my poor old friend keep
+ringing in my head to this day, whenever I think of him; and I can
+repeat them every one. It was some few years after our intimacy had
+ceased, and when I only knew that he had degenerated into a Fleet Street
+loafer of the most dilapidated type, that I caught sight of him one day
+outside a theatre. It was the theatre which was for some years a
+gold-mine to one Morton Morrison, of whom you may never have heard; but
+he was a public pet in his day, I can tell you, and his day was just
+then at its high noon. Well, there stood Pharazyn, with his hands in his
+pockets and a cutty-pipe sticking out between his ragged beard and
+moustache, and his shoulders against the pit door, so that for once he
+could not escape me. But he wouldn't take a hand out of his pocket to
+shake mine; and when I asked him how he was, without thinking, he
+laughed in my face, and it made me feel cruel. He was dreadfully
+emaciated, and almost in rags. And as I wondered what I ought to do, and
+what to say next, he gave a cough, and spat upon the pavement, and I
+could see the blood.
+
+[Illustration: "THERE STOOD PHARAZYN."]
+
+"I don't know what you would have done for him--but for all I knew what
+had brought him to this, I could think of nothing but a drink. It was
+mid-winter, and I tell you the man was in rags. I felt that if I could
+get him to a bar he might eat something, too, and that I should get a
+hold of him this time which I would never again let go. Judge of my
+surprise when he flatly refused to come with me even for a drink.
+
+"'Can't you see? he said in his hollow voice. 'There'll be a crowd here
+directly, and I want the best seat in the pit--the best in the house.
+I've been going dry for it these two days, and I'm going dry till I've
+seen the piece. No, I've been here an hour already, and there's three
+hours more, I know; but I'm not going to risk it, thanks all the same.'
+
+"By this I had remembered that Morton Morrison was to re-open that night
+with a new piece. Indeed, I ought not to have forgotten that, seeing
+that I had my order about me somewhere, and it meant a column from my
+pen between twelve and one that night. But this sudden, sorry meeting
+had put all other thoughts out of my head.
+
+"'My dear fellow,' I said, with a sort of laugh, 'are you a
+first-nighter, too?'
+
+"'Only at this theatre.'
+
+"He looked me queerly in the face.
+
+"'You admire Morrison very much?'
+
+"'I love him!'
+
+"I suppose my eyes thawed him, though God knows how hard I was trying
+not to hurt him with pitying looks. At all events he began to explain
+himself of his own accord, very impetuously; indeed I rather think the
+outburst was purely involuntary.
+
+"'Look here,' he said, with his hoarse voice lowered: 'I hoped never to
+see your face again. I hoped you'd never see mine. But now you are here,
+don't go this minute, and I'll tell you why I think so much of Morton
+Morrison. I don't know him, mind you--he doesn't know me from Adam--but
+once long ago I had something to do with him. And God bless him, but
+damn every other manager in London, for he was the only one of the lot
+that gave me a civil hearing and a kind word!'
+
+"I knew what he was talking about, and he knew that I knew, for we had
+understood one another in the old days.
+
+"'I took it to him last of all,' he went on, wiping his damp lips with
+his hand. 'When I began hawking it about he was an unknown man; when his
+turn came he was here. He let me read it to him. Then he asked me to
+leave it with him for a week; and when I went back to him, he said what
+they had all said--that it would never act! But Morton Morrison said it
+nicely. And when he saw how it cut me up, into little bits, he got me to
+tell him all about everything; and then he persuaded me to burn the
+play, instead of ruining my life for it; and I burnt it in his
+dressing-room fire, but the ruin was too far gone to mend. I wrote that
+thing with my heart's blood--old man, you know I did! And none of them
+would think of it! My God! But Morrison was good about it--he's a good
+soul--and that's why you'll see me at every first night of his until the
+drink finishes its work.'
+
+"I had not followed him quite to the end. One thing had amazed me too
+much.
+
+"'You burnt your play,' I could only murmur, 'when it would have turned
+into such a novel! Surely you have some draft of it still?'
+
+"'I burnt the lot when I got home,' Pharazyn replied; 'and by-and-by I
+shall join 'em and burn too!'
+
+"I had nothing to answer to that, and was, besides, tenacious of my
+point. 'I don't think much of the kindness that makes one man persuade
+another to burn his work and throw up the sponge,' said I, with a good
+deal of indignation, for I did feel wroth with that fellow Morrison--a
+bread-and-butter drawing-room actor, whose very vogue used to irritate
+me.
+
+[Illustration: "WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THIS?"]
+
+"'Then what do you think of this?' asked Pharazyn, as he dipped a hand
+within his shabby coat, and cautiously unclenched it under my nose.
+
+"'Why, it's a five-pound note!'
+
+"'I know; but wasn't _that_ kind, then?'
+
+"'So Morrison gave you this!' I exclaimed.
+
+"Two or three persons had stopped to join us at the pit door, and
+Pharazyn hastily put the note back in his pocket. As he did so, his
+dreadfully shabby condition gave my heart a fresh cut.
+
+"'Are you never going to spend that?' I asked in a whisper; and in a
+whisper he answered:--
+
+"'Never! It is all my play has brought me--all. It was given me as a
+charity, but I took it as my earnings--my earnings for all the work and
+waiting, and blood and tears, that one thing cost me. Spend it? Not I!
+It will bury me as decently as I deserve.'
+
+"We could converse no more. And the presence of other people prevented
+me from giving him my overcoat, though I spoke of it into his ear,
+begging and imploring him to come away and take it while there was still
+time for him to clip back and get a seat in the front row. But he would
+not hear of it, and the way he refused reminded me of his old stubborn
+independence; all I got was a promise that he would have a bite with me
+after the performance. And so I left him in the frosty dusk, ill-clad
+and unkempt, with the new-lit lamp over the pit door shining down upon
+the haggard mask that had once been the eager, memorable face of my
+cleverest friend.
+
+"I saw him next the moment I entered the theatre that evening, and I
+nodded my head to him, which he rebuked with the slightest shake of his
+own. So I looked no more at him before the play began, comprehending
+that he desired me not to do so. The temptation, however, was too strong
+to go on resisting, for while Pharazyn was in the very centre of the
+front row in the pit, I was at one end of the last row of the stalls;
+and I was very anxious about him, wanting to make sure that he was there
+and not going to escape me again, and nervous of having him out of my
+sight for five minutes together.
+
+"Thus I know more about the gradual change which came over Pharazyn's
+poor face, as scene followed scene, than of the developments and merits
+of those scenes themselves. My mind was in any case running more on my
+lost friend than on the piece; but it was not till near the end of the
+first act that the growing oddity of his look first struck me.
+
+"His eyebrows were raised; it was a look of incredulity chiefly; yet I
+could see nothing to impale for improbability in the play as far as it
+had gone. I was but lightly attending, for my own purposes, as you
+youngsters skim your betters for review; but thus far the situation
+struck me as at once feasible and promising. Also it seemed not a little
+familiar to me; I could not say why, for watching Pharazyn's face. And
+it was his face that told me at last, in the second act. By God, it was
+his own play!
+
+"It was Pharazyn's play, superficially altered all through, nowhere
+substantially; but the only play for me, when I knew that, was being
+acted in the front row of the pit, and not on the stage, to which I had
+turned the side of my head. I watched my old friend's face writhe and
+work until it stiffened in a savage calm; and watching, I thought of the
+'first night' he had pictured jovially in the old days, when the bare
+idea of the piece was bursting his soul; and thinking, I wondered
+whether it could add a drop to his bitterness to remember that too.
+
+"Yet, through all my thoughts, I was listening, intently enough, now.
+And in the third act I heard the very words my friend had written: they
+had not meddled with his lines in the great scene which had moved us
+both to tears long ago in my rooms. And this I swear to, whether you
+believe it or no--that at the crisis of that scene, which was just as
+Pharazyn made it, the calm ferocity transfiguring his face died away all
+at once, and I saw it shining with the sweetest tears our eyes can
+shed--the tears of an artist over his own work.
+
+"And when the act was over he sat with his head on his hand for some
+minutes, drinking in the applause, as I well knew; then he left his seat
+and squeezed out on my side of the house, and I made sure he was coming
+to speak to me over the barrier; and I got up to speak to him; but he
+would not see me, but stood against the barrier with a mien as white and
+set as chiselled marble.
+
+"What followed on the first fall of the curtain I shall relate as
+rapidly as it happened. Louder call for an author I never heard, and I
+turned my eyes to the stage in my intense curiosity to see who would
+come forward; for the piece had been brought out anonymously; and I
+divined that Morrison himself was about to father it. And so he did; but
+as the lie passed his lips, and in the interval before the applause--the
+tiny interval between flash and peal--the lie was given him in a roar of
+fury from my left; there fell a thud of feet at my side, and Pharazyn
+was over the barrier and bolting down the gangway towards the stage. I
+think he was near making a leap for the footlights and confronting
+Morrison on his own boards; but the orchestra came between, and the
+fiddlers rose in their places. Then he turned wildly to us pressmen, and
+I will say he had our ear, if not that of the whole house besides, for
+the few words he was allowed to utter.
+
+"'Gentlemen!' he cried at the top of his voice--'Gentlemen, I'm one of
+you! I'm a writing man like yourselves, and I wrote this play that
+you've seen. That man never wrote it at all--I wrote it myself! That man
+has only altered it. I read it to him two years ago--two years ago,
+gentlemen! He kept it for a week, and then got me to burn it as
+rubbish--when he had made a copy of it! And he gave me this,
+gentlemen--he gave me this that I give him back!'
+
+"It was a matter of only a few seconds, but not till my own last hour
+shall I forget Morrison's painted face on the stage, or that sweating
+white one beneath the boxes; or the fluttering from Pharazyn's poor
+fingers of the five-pound note he had treasured for two years; or the
+hush all over the house until the first hand was laid upon his dirty
+collar.
+
+"'What!' he screamed, 'do none of you believe me? Will none of you stand
+by me--isn't there a man--not one man among you----'
+
+"And they threw him out with my name on his lips. And I followed, and
+floored a brute who was handling him roughly. And nothing happened to
+me--because of what happened to Pharazyn!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The dear old boy sat silent, his grey head on his hand. Presently he
+went on, more to himself than to me: "What could I do? What proof had I?
+He had burnt them every one. And as long as the public would stand him,
+Morrison kept his good name at least. And that play was his great
+success!"
+
+[Illustration: "HE GAVE ME THIS."]
+
+I ventured gently to inquire what had happened to Pharazyn.
+
+"He died in my arms," my old friend cried, throwing up his head with an
+oath and a tear. "He died in a few minutes, outside the theatre. I could
+hear them clapping after he was dead--clapping his piece."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Zig Zags at the Zoo: Conkavian
+
+
+If the gentle reader, full of a general desire for knowledge and a
+particular enthusiasm for natural history, will refer to any one of the
+great standard works on birds, and, turning to the index, seek for the
+family title of the Conkaves, I have every hope and confidence that he
+will not find it; because, as a matter of fact, it is a little invention
+of my own, and, I may modestly urge, rather a neat thing in scientific
+nomenclature, on the whole. It has the advantage of including in one
+family the storks and the pelicans, which in all orthodox books on birds
+are planted far apart and out of sight of each other, with many orders,
+tribes, and families between. Under my title they are gathered amicably
+together in the common possession of very long bills, like two tailors
+on a man's doorstep. The word is derived, in the proper and regular
+manner, from ancient sources; from _conk_, a venerable Eastern word,
+signifying a nose or beak, and the Latin _avis_, a bird. And I offer
+the term freely as my humble, but I trust useful, contribution to
+science; my first contribution.
+
+The stork is regarded, in many countries, with a certain
+semi-superstitious reverence and esteem. After many prolonged and
+serious attempts to saturate myself with a similar feeling, I regret to
+confess to a certain smallness of esteem for the stork. You can't esteem
+a bird that makes ugly digs at your feet and heels with such a very big
+beak. Out in their summer quarters the storks are kept in by close wire,
+and close wire will give an air of inoffensiveness to most things. But,
+away in a by-yard, with a gate marked "private," there stands a shed
+wherein the storks are kept warm in winter, behind wooden bars; and
+between these bars stork-heads have a way of dropping at the toes of the
+favoured passer-by, like to action of a row of roadmen's picks.
+
+[Illustration: PICKS AND CHEWS.]
+
+The stork has come off well in the matter of bodily endowment. The
+pelican has a tremendous beak--achieved, it would seem, by a skimping of
+material in the legs; but the stork has the tremendous beak and legs of
+surprising growth as well. His wings, too, are something more than
+respectable. At flying, at eating, at portentous solemnity of
+demeanour--in all these and in other things the pelican and the stork
+score fairly evenly; but at walking the pelican is left behind at once.
+This makes one suspect the stork's honesty. The pelican has a good beak
+and wings, and pays for them, like an honest bird, out of its legs, just
+as the ostrich pays for its neck and legs out of its wings. But the
+stork is abnormally lucky in beak, neck, legs, and wings together, and
+even then has material left to lay out in superfluous knobs and wens to
+hang round its neck, which leads to a suspicion that many of its
+personal fittings belong properly to some other bird. I've a notion that
+the unlucky kiwi might identify some of the property.
+
+[Illustration: THE PELICAN LEFT.]
+
+[Illustration: ARMY.]
+
+Perhaps the adjutant should be acknowledged king of the conkavians.
+Billy, the Zoo adjutant, has, I believe, no doubt on the subject at all.
+Billy is an ornament to the military profession--a very fine fellow,
+with a thing on the back of his neck like a Tangerine orange, and a wen
+on the front of it, which he can blow out whenever he wants to amuse
+himself, and everything else handsome about him. He is an old soldier,
+too, is Billy, having been Adjutant of the Regent's Park Conkavian Corps
+for seventeen years; but if you knew nothing of his age, still you would
+call Billy an old soldier--upon a little acquaintance with his habits.
+
+[Illustration: LAW.]
+
+There seems no valid reason why the professional aspirations of the
+stork should be restricted to the army. If an adjutant, why not a dean?
+Why not a proctor? There is the making of a most presentable don about a
+stork; and I have caught a stork in an attitude of judicial meditation
+that might do honour to any bench. There is no reason why "sober as a
+judge" should not be made to read "sober as a stork," except that the
+stork is the more solemn creature of the two; and I think that some
+species of stork--say the marabou, for instance--might fairly claim
+brevet rank as judge, after the example of the adjutant. The elevation
+of a beak to the bench might be considered an irregular piece of legal
+procedure; but, bless you, it's nothing unusual with a stork. Put any
+bench with something to eat on it anywhere within reach of a stork's
+beak in this place, and you shall witness that same elevation, precedent
+or no precedent.
+
+[Illustration: UNIVERSITIES.]
+
+A common white stork hasn't half the solid gravity of an adjutant or a
+marabou. He has a feline habit of expressing his displeasure by blowing
+and swearing--a habit bad and immoral in a cat, but worse in a stork
+accustomed to Church. Church, by-the-bye, is the keeper of all the
+conkavians, as well as of the herons, the flamingoes, the ibises, the
+egrets, and a number of other birds with names more difficult to spell.
+It is impossible to treat disrespectfully a man with such widespread
+responsibilities as this, or there might be a temptation to mention that
+he is not an unusually high Church, although his services are not always
+simple, often involving a matter of doctorin'. But, then, some people
+will say anything, temptation or none. And after all, it is pleasant to
+know that, whatever a stork or a pelican wants, he always goes to
+Church.
+
+[Illustration: SWEARING.]
+
+[Illustration: CHURCH.]
+
+This being the case, there is a proverb about cleanliness that makes one
+wonder why the marabou stork doesn't wash himself. It isn't as though he
+never wanted it. I have a horrible suspicion about this philosophic old
+sloven. I believe his profession of philosophic contemplation is
+assumed, because it is the easiest excuse for indolence. Now, a pelican
+is not a bird of graceful outline, but he _is_ careful about his
+feathers. The pelican is a scrupulous old Dutchman, and the stork is an
+uncleanly old Hindu. And uncleanly he must be left, for it takes a deal
+to shame a stork. You can't shame a bird that wraps itself in a
+convenient philosophy. "Look here--look at me!" you can imagine a
+pelican cleanliness-missionary saying to the stork. "See how white and
+clean I keep all my feathers!" "Um," says the stork, "it only makes 'em
+a different colour." "But observe! I just comb through my pinions with
+my beak, so, and they all lie neat and straight!" "Well, and what's the
+good of that?" grunts the stork. "And then you see," says the pelican,
+ignoring the question, "with a good long beak you can reach everywhere,
+over your back and under your wings; see, I'm as clean under my wings as
+anywhere else, although it's covered up!" "Beastly vanity," growls the
+old Hindu, getting bored. "Then," continues the Dutchman, "you give
+yourself a good shake, and there you are!" "And then," says the
+philosopher sarcastically, "to-morrow, I suppose, you'll have to do it
+all over again?" "Of course!" "Oh! I hate a fool!" says the stork, and
+closes the lecture.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Thus the marabou. The ordinary white stork is comparatively respectable,
+and so is the adjutant--or comparatively almost respectable, let us say;
+you can't be too cautious in giving a personal character to a stork.
+For long, long, the stork has enjoyed a reputation for solemn wisdom,
+for philosophical dignity. Now for the first time I venture to question
+this reputation--to impeach the stork as a humbug. It is easy to achieve
+a reputation for profound and ponderous wisdom, so long as one looks
+very solemn and says nothing. This is the stork's recipe. Go up to Billy
+here, or one of the marabous, as he stands with his shoulders humped up
+about his head, and make a joke. He won't see it. He will lift his
+eyebrows with a certain look of contempt, and continue to
+cogitate--about nothing. If the joke is a very bad pun--such a frightful
+pun that even a stork will see and resent it--perhaps he will chatter
+his beak savagely, with a noise like the clatter of the lid on an empty
+cigar-box; but he will continue his sham meditations. "Ah, my friend,"
+he seems to say, "you are empty and frivolous--I cogitate the profounder
+immensities of esoteric cogibundity." The fact being that he is very
+seedy after his previous night's dissipation.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+That is the chief secret of the stork's solemnity, I am convinced. He
+has a certain reputation to maintain before visitors, but after hours,
+when the gates are shut and the keepers are not there to see, the
+marabou stork is a sad dog. I haven't quite made up my mind what he
+drinks, but if he has brandies and sodas he leaves out too much soda.
+Look at that awful nose! It is long past the crimson and pimply
+stage--it is taking a decided tinge of blue. It _looks_ worse than
+brandy and soda--almost like bad gin--but we will be as charitable as
+possible, and only call it brandy and soda.
+
+I should like to see the marabou stork on his nightly ran-tan, if only
+to gloat over his lapse of dignity, just as one would give much to see
+Benjamin Franklin with his face blacked, drunk and disorderly and being
+locked up. But, as a shocking example, the marabou is quite bad enough
+with his awful head in the morning; his awful head and his disreputable
+nose, that looks to want a good scraping. I respect Billy, the adjutant,
+for his long service and the Tangerine at the back of his neck. The
+ordinary stork (although he swears and snaps) I also respect, because
+the goody books used to tell pious lies about him. The whale-headed
+stork, which is also called the shoe-bird, I respect as a sort of
+relative of the shoo-fly that didn't bother somebody. But the marabou
+has forfeited all respect--converted it into nose-tint. I must talk to
+Church seriously about the marabou.
+
+[Illustration: THE RAN-TAN.]
+
+Now, the pelican is no humbug. There is nothing like concealment about
+his little dissipations; and he is perfectly sober. Any little
+irregularity at the pelican club just opposite the eastern aviary never
+goes beyond a quiet round or two for a little fish dinner. It is quite a
+select and a most proper club. Indeed, the first rule is, that if any
+loose fish be found on the club premises, he is got rid of at once by
+the first member who detects him. And the club spirit is such that
+disputes frequently occur among members for the honour of carrying out
+this salutary rule. The chairman of the club is an old crested pelican,
+who, by some oversight, has never been provided with a private name of
+his own. I think he should be called Peter, because he can take such a
+miraculous draught of fishes. It _is_ a draught; you know--a pelican
+doesn't eat fishes--he drinks them down in bulk. For Peter, a dozen or
+so fresh herrings is a mere swill round of the mouth.
+
+[Illustration: A QUIET ROUND OR TWO.]
+
+Peter walks about the club premises with much dignity, deferred to on
+all sides by the other members. His kingship is rarely disputed, having
+been achieved by the sort of conquest most familiar in the pelican club;
+and his divine right is as much respected as his tremendous left.
+
+A pelican never bears malice; he hasn't time, especially now, with
+competition so keen in the fish business, and Church's fish pails only
+of the ordinary size. There is never any ill-feeling after a little
+spar, and each proceeds, in the most amicable way, to steal some other
+pelican's fish. A spar at this club, by-the-bye, is a joyous and
+hilarious sight. Two big birds with stumpy legs and top-heavy beaks,
+solemnly prancing and manoeuvring before one another with an
+accompaniment of valiant gobbles and a punctuation of occasional
+pecks--a gleesome spectacle.
+
+[Illustration: PETER.]
+
+[Illustration: A SWILL ROUND.]
+
+Another sport much exhibited at the pelican club is that of
+the broadsword. The school of fence is that of Mr. Vincent
+Crummies--one--two--three--four--over; one--two--three--four--under.
+You see, when a dozen or two birds with beaks a couple of feet long or
+so get together in a small area, and now and again rush all in the same
+direction for fish, fencing is certain to develop, sooner or later. So
+here you have it, _secundum artem_--one--two--three--four--over;
+one--two--three--four--under; and although none have yet attained the
+Crummleian degree of knocking out sparks, there is a deal of hollow
+noise, as of thumping on a wooden box. But there is never any
+after-malice, and in less than five minutes either combatant will
+swallow a fish rightfully belonging to the other, with perfect
+affability.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+There is a good deal of the philosopher about the pelican, and of a more
+genuine sort than characterizes the stork. The pelican always makes the
+best of a bad job, without going into an unnecessary tantrum over it. If
+another member of the club snatches a fish first, the pelican doesn't
+bother, but devotes his attention to the next that Church throws; a fish
+in the pouch is worth a shoal in somebody else's. Now and again Peter
+loses his temper for a moment if the others catch the first snack, and
+lays about him with his bill--but then, when a fellow's chairman, and a
+lot of other fellows come snatching the lunch from under his nose--why,
+hang it all, you know.... But it is only for a moment, and Peter is soon
+in position for the next pouchful. He is artful about this position.
+When Church appears at the rails with a pailful of fish most of the
+members rush to those rails, jostle together and shove their beaks
+through them and over them--any way to get nearer the pail. But the
+chairman knows very well that Church doesn't throw the fish outside the
+rails, but into the inclosure, somewhere near the middle; and near the
+middle the sagacious Peter waits, to his early profit--unless Church is
+unusually slow about throwing the fish, in which case Peter is apt to
+let his excitement steal his sagacity, and to rush into the pell-mell,
+anxious to investigate the delay.
+
+[Illustration: A LITTLE SOLEING AND HEELING.]
+
+There is a deal of excellent wear in a pelican. One has been here about
+thirty years, and two more have been established on the same premises
+for a quarter of a century. All these three are in capital working
+repair and will probably last, with a patch or two, and a little soleing
+and heeling, for a century or two more; no respectable pelican is ever
+bowled out for less than three figures.
+
+In the winter the club takes up its quarters in the shed behind the
+inclosure; a shed sumptuously furnished with certain benches and forms,
+whereon the club stands in rows, with a general appearance of a number
+of very solemn naughty boys in a Board school. In winter, too, Church
+will often put his bucketful of fish on the ground, so that the club may
+dine in a clubbier way. But whether you watch this club feeding together
+from the pail, each member doing his best to put away the whole pailful
+at a gulp, or whether you observe them playing a sort of greedy game of
+lacrosse with fish which Church throws them, you will be equally amazed
+that the pelican was used as a symbol of charity and brotherly love in
+early and middle Christian art.
+
+[Illustration: SCHOOL.]
+
+[Illustration: CLUB DINNER.]
+
+I have seen a pelican enact a most instructive moral lesson at a
+pail-dinner. Observe the bill and pouch of a pelican. The pouch is an
+elastic fishing-net, and the lower mandible is a mere flexible frame to
+carry it. Now, I have observed a pelican to make a bounce at the
+fish-pail, with outspread wings, and scoop the whole supply. But then
+his trouble began. The whole catch hung weightily low in the end of the
+pouch, and jerk and heave as he might, he could never lift the load at
+the end of that long beak sufficiently high to bolt it. Meanwhile, his
+friends collected about him and remonstrated, with many flops and
+gobbles, betting him all his fish to nothing that he would lose it after
+all; this way they chased that bag, and that way, while the bagger, in
+much trepidation and with many desperate heaves, wildly sought remote
+corners away from his persecutors. Now, by the corner of the club
+premises stands an appliance, the emblem of authority, the instrument of
+justice, and the terror of the evilly-disposed pelican--a birch-broom.
+This, brandished in the hands of Church, caused a sudden and awful
+collapse of the drag-nets, an opening, a shower of fish and many snaps;
+wherefrom walked away many pelicans with fish, and one with none, who
+had looked to take all. The moral is plain to the verge of ugliness.
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+A pelican has no tongue--or none to speak of. It is a mere little knob
+scarcely the size of a cherry. The long, long meditations of the pelican
+(lasting between feeding times) are given up to consideration whether or
+not the disgrace of this deficiency is counter-balanced by the greater
+capacity for fish which it gives the pouch. After all, it is only
+another instance of that commercial honesty which makes the pelican pay
+for his beak out of his legs; he gives his tongue for a pouch. There
+should be a legend of the pelican applying honestly to Adam to buy a
+pouch, and the wily stork waiting and waiting on the chance of snatching
+one without paying for it, until all had been served out; afterwards
+living all its life on earth in covetous dudgeon, unconsoled by its
+wealth of beak, legs, wings, and neck, and pining hopelessly for the
+lost pouch. There are many legends of this sort which ought to exist,
+but don't, owing to the negligence of Indian solar myth merchants, or
+whoever it is has charge of that class of misrepresentation.
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+The pelican can fly, although you would never believe it, to look at the
+club members here. To a Zoo pelican a flight of two feet is an
+undertaking to be approached with much circumspection and preparation,
+and a summoning of resolution and screwing of courage proper to the
+magnitude of the feat. It takes a long time to learn to fly on to a
+bottom-up bucket. The Zoo pelican begins on a shadow--not a very dark
+one at first--and works his way up by jumping over, darker shadows to
+straws and pebbles, before he tries a bucket. The accomplished
+bucket-jumper makes a long preliminary survey and circumnavigation of
+his bucket before performing, and when he does begin it is with a number
+of wild rushes and irresolute stops. When at last he gets the proper
+length of run, and the right foot in front, and doesn't see anything to
+baulk him, he rises with a great effort, and all the lookers-on who
+don't know him stare up over the trees, and are astonished to find him,
+after all, only on the bucket. His pinions are cut, poor fellow! If they
+were not, what would become of the fishmongers' shops?
+
+
+
+
+_Shafts from an Eastern Quiver_.
+
+IX.--MAW-SAYAH: THE KEEPER OF THE GREAT BURMAN NAT.
+
+By Charles J. Mansford, B.A.
+
+
+I.
+
+"The fine points of an elephant, sahib," said our guide Hassan, "are a
+colour approaching to white, the nails perfectly black, and an intact
+tail."
+
+"I am glad to hear that an elephant has some qualities which recommend
+it," said Denviers, good-humouredly. "I should think that the one upon
+which we are riding is about as lazy as it is possible to be. I suppose
+slowness is an unusually good point, isn't it, Hassan?" The Arab, who
+was sitting before us on the elephant, gave it a stir with the
+sharply-pointed spear which he held in his hand to urge it on, and then
+glancing back at us, as we reclined lazily in the cushioned howdah, he
+said inquiringly: "Are the sahibs tired already of travelling thus? Yet
+we have fully two hours' journey before us."
+
+"Hassan," I interposed, "this is a good opportunity for you to tell us
+exactly what you heard about that Maw-Sayah when we were at Bhamo. It is
+in consequence of that, indeed, that we are going to try to get among
+these strange Kachyens; but as we are not quite sure of the details, you
+may as well repeat them."
+
+"The sahib shall be obeyed," responded our guide, and although careful
+to keep a good watch in front, he turned his body slightly towards us as
+he prepared to begin the narrative.
+
+[Illustration: "THE SAHIB SHALL BE OBEYED."]
+
+On reaching Burmah we stayed for several days in Rangoon, the Queen of
+the East as it is called nowadays, although only remarkable formerly for
+its famous monasteries of Talapoins and as a halting-place for the bands
+of pilgrims on their way to the mighty Shway Dagohn pagoda. Thence we
+journeyed up the Irawaddy, and having duly paid reverence to some of the
+nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine pagodas of Pagan--the outcast
+slaves of which city seemed a strange contrast to its otherwise absolute
+desertion--we continued our journey by steamer as far as Mandalay.
+Having endured the doubtful pleasure of a jaunt in a seatless, jolting
+bullock-carriage--the bruises from which were not easily forgotten--we
+eventually reached Bhamo, where Hassan entered into conversation with a
+hill-man. From the latter he learnt a strange story, which was later on
+told to us and the truth of which we hoped before long to fully test,
+for soon afterwards we set out on an elephant, our faithful guide in
+this new adventure again proving himself of the greatest service.
+
+"Now, Hassan," said Denviers, "we are quite ready to hear this story
+fully, but don't add any imaginary details of your own."
+
+"By the Koran, sahib," began the Arab, "these are the words which were
+those of him to whom I spoke under the shade of the log stockade."
+
+"Which are, of course, unimpeachable," responded Denviers. "Anyone could
+tell that from his shifty eyes, which failed to rest upon us fixed even
+for a minute when we spoke to him afterwards." The Arab seemed a little
+disconcerted at this, but soon continued:--
+
+"The great Spirits or Nats, who guard the prosperity of Burmah, have
+become greatly incensed with the Kachyens, not because they failed to
+resist stoutly when the monarch was deposed a few years ago----"
+
+"Then we are to have a modern story, this time, Hassan?" interrupted
+Denviers. "I quite expected that you would commence with some long
+worn-out tradition."
+
+"The sahibs shall hear," the Arab went on. "No one who offends the Nats
+of Burmah need expect anything but evil to follow. There are the Nats of
+the sky, the Nats of the earth, the Nats of the Irawaddy, the Nats of
+the five hundred little rivers, and the thousand Nats which guarded the
+sacred person of the monarch----"
+
+"Yes, Hassan," said Denviers, impatiently, "you mentioned them all
+before. We haven't time to hear the list enumerated now; go on about
+this one particular Nat which you say is causing such havoc among the
+hill-tribes."
+
+"Patience, sahib. The Nats were justly roused to anger because the
+deposed monarch was not afterwards taken to the water's edge riding upon
+an elephant instead of in a bullock-carriage."
+
+"Well, Hassan," said Denviers, "judging from our own experience the Nats
+seem to be pretty sensible, I must say--but how do they affect the peace
+of mind of the Kachyens?"
+
+"Listen, sahib. High among the hills which may be seen stretching before
+us lies a village in which many of the Kachyens dwell, their occupation
+being sometimes that of tillers of the land, but more often consisting
+in planning and carrying out raids upon other hill-men, or of descending
+at times to the plains, and there looting the towns wherein dwell more
+peaceable tribes. In all their forays they had been successful, for
+whenever their trusty dahs or swords were drawn, those who opposed them
+invariably obtained the worst of the encounter. So powerful did they
+become that at last those dwelling in the plains--Shans, Karenns, and
+Talaings, too--made no resistance against their attacks; and when they
+saw the produce of their fields carried away, thought themselves happy
+not to have been slain. The reason why the Kachyens became so successful
+in all they undertook was that a powerful forest Nat placed them under
+its protection, and hence they could not be harmed by their foes.
+
+"Now it chanced that the King was in great danger through following the
+advice of his impetuous ministers, whereupon he summoned the Kachyens to
+his assistance--for their fame as warriors had reached his ears long
+before. But they, confident of securing their own safety whatever
+happened to the monarch, refused to obey his command to march against
+the Burman foes. The consequence was that when the indignity which I
+have mentioned was offered to the deposed monarch, the Nats throughout
+Burmah were furious with that one who ruled the village in which the
+Kachyens dwelt, and they sent some of their number to destroy it. The
+latter, however, appeased them by making a grim promise, which has been
+only too faithfully kept.
+
+"A few days afterwards a hill-man, who was clearing a part of the land
+on the woody slope of the height, _saw the Nat_, which had never before
+been visible, and, terrified at the strange form which it had assumed,
+he ran hastily to the rest of the tribe, and, gathering them together,
+held a consultation as to what should be done to appease it. Some
+suggested that upon every tree trunk should be scratched appealing
+messages, which the Nat might read; others were in favour of placing a
+huge heap of spears and swords near the spot where the embodied Nat had
+been seen in order that it might be tempted to destroy all those who
+urged it to injure them. The messages and weapons, however, when placed
+for the Nat to observe did no good, for one dreadful night a rattling
+was heard of the bamboos, which lay before one of the Kachyen's huts,
+and the man, going hastily to see what caused it, was swiftly carried
+away in the darkness without apparently uttering a single cry! For many
+nights in succession a similar scene was enacted, for he at whose door
+the dire summons came dared not refuse to answer it lest the whole
+household might perish.
+
+"Nothing more was ever seen of those thus strangely carried off, and the
+Kachyens, each of whom feared that his own end might come next,
+determined to consult some famous Buddhist priests who dwelt not far
+from them, and who held charge over the famous marble slabs which the
+great War Prince of Burmah had caused to be engraved concerning their
+illustrious traditions. The man whom ye saw me conversing with by the
+stockade was the one whom the tribe intrusted with the task; but the
+priests, after much consideration among themselves of the object of his
+visit, refused to have anything to do with such a tragic affair, and
+thereupon dismissed their suppliant.
+
+[Illustration: "THE BUDDHIST PRIESTS."]
+
+"This Kachyen, when sorrowfully returning towards the hills, fearing
+that the tribe would destroy him because of his non-success, chanced to
+meet on his way a Mogul, to whom he repeated the story. The latter,
+laying his hand on his red-dyed and fierce-looking beard, advised the
+Kachyen to enter a hole in the mountain side and to consult a famous
+Maw-Sayah, or juggler, who dwelt there. This juggler promised assistance
+if the tribe would pay him a great reward in the event of his success,
+and when they agreed to this he entered the village and waited for dusk
+to arrive. Again the dreadful rattling was heard, and another Kachyen
+stepped out to meet his fate. None of the tribe dared to look at what
+transpired, except the juggler, and he too disappeared! The next
+morning, however, he came into the village and called its inhabitants
+together. When they had solemnly agreed to his conditions, he stated
+that the Nat was bent upon destroying them all, and that to attempt to
+escape by means of flight would only lead to quicker death. Then he told
+them what the result of his intercession for them had been.
+
+"The Nat had been persuaded to destroy only one victim on each seventh
+evening at dusk, and had appointed him to see that certain conditions
+were not broken. He was to have a hut at his disposal, and into this the
+men were to go by lot, and thus the Nat would obtain a victim when the
+time came round. They were forbidden to wander about after sunset, and
+whatever noises were made not to hearken to them, since the Maw-Sayah
+would see that the others were unharmed. So long had this dreadful
+destruction lasted that more than one-half of the men in the Kachyen
+village, or town, as it might well be called from the large number who
+inhabited it, had perished, and yet the Nat still demanded a victim, and
+the Maw-Sayah is there to see that the compact is fulfilled. The man who
+told this story, sahibs, declares that the keeper of the Nat has by this
+means obtained sway over the Kachyens to such an extent that they have
+become his abject slaves, for the custom of drawing lots has been
+abolished, and he selects whom he will to sacrifice to the Nat. By some
+means this Kachyen offended the Maw-Sayah, who thereupon condemned him,
+but he, in terror of the sudden and silent death in store for him, fled
+to Bhamo, where he lives in momentary fear of destruction. Such then,
+sahibs, is the story, and it is to see this Maw-Sayah and the Nat at
+their fell work to-night that even now our faces are turned to the high
+land before us, up which we must climb, for there is but one narrow
+pathway leading to the village."
+
+Hassan ceased, and then Denviers turned to me as he said:--
+
+"I think that this Maw-Sayah, as Hassan calls him, has about as much
+faith in Nats as we have. It suits his purpose to league himself with
+something mysterious; whatever it is we will try to find out," and he
+glanced at the weapons which we carried.
+
+
+II.
+
+"The sahibs must dismount here", said Hassan shortly afterwards, and
+following to the ground our guide, we began to climb the mountain path
+which stretched before us. The ascent was exceedingly steep, and several
+times we stopped to rest after pushing our way through the tangled
+masses which almost hid the path, which was itself cut here and there
+apparently through the rocky strata. When we had reached about
+three-fourths of our journey Hassan stopped and pointed out to us one of
+the thatched roofs of a hut, which seemed in the distance scarcely
+noticeable until his keen eyesight discovered it. The village, we found,
+lay a little to the left of the mountain path, for on nearing the summit
+we found ourselves passing through a peculiar avenue of trees
+interspersed with long bamboo poles. From the tops of the latter there
+were stretched across the approach strong, rough-looking cords, which
+supported various uncouth emblems, and among which were large triangles,
+circles, and stars, cut apparently out of the stems of huge bamboos.
+After traversing this avenue for nearly three hundred yards we saw the
+tree trunks which Hassan had mentioned, and which were deeply scarred
+with cabalistic messages to the fierce Nat, which we could not of course
+understand. Affixed to some of the trees farther on we saw a number of
+spears and dahs mingled with shorter weapons, the latter being made of
+some species of hard wood, and close to them we observed the skulls of
+several large animals, one of which we judged was that of an elephant.
+
+[Illustration: "THE AVENUE."]
+
+In spite of the fact that the village was a large one, the buildings
+were of a very primitive construction, being made of bamboos with
+thatched coverings, reaching almost to the piles on which the huts were
+placed. We did not observe any openings made to serve as windows, the
+only ones noticeable being those by which the Kachyens entered, placed
+above a bamboo ladder, which seemed to, serve instead of steps. Although
+the sun had scarcely set, the village was wrapped in a strange silence,
+the sound of our footsteps alone being heard. The smoke that seemed to
+be forcing its way through stray holes in the thatch amply convinced us,
+however, that the inhabitants were within doors, and, turning to our
+Arab guide, I asked him if he could distinguish among the many huts the
+one in which we expected to find the Maw-Sayah. He seemed a little
+uncertain at first, but after wandering through the village together we
+returned, and then Hassan, who had been very observant the whole time,
+pointed to one of the rudely-constructed huts and said:--
+
+"I think that is the one into which we seek to enter; it is situated
+according to the position in which the Kachyen said it was, and,
+besides, it bears a strange proof of the story which ye have listened to
+with such ill-concealed disbelief."
+
+"Why do you think that is the hut, Hassan?" I asked, for, to my eyes, no
+difference between that and the others close to it was distinguishable.
+
+"If the sahib will look at the bamboo ladder and observe it carefully,
+he will see that it is unlike the others round," said the Arab.
+
+"I suppose you refer to these deep scratches upon it, don't you,
+Hassan?" asked Denviers, as he pointed to some marks, a few of which
+were apparently fairly recent.
+
+"The sahib guesses rightly," answered our guide. "You will remember that
+the Kachyen stated to me that the Nat is accustomed to obtain its victim
+now from the abode of the Maw-Sayah; those marks, then, have been made
+by it when it dragged its human prey out of the hut." We gazed curiously
+at the marks for a few minutes, then Denviers broke the silence by
+asking the Arab why it was that the Nat made marks at all.
+
+"I should have thought that such a powerful spirit could prevent such
+evidences of its presence becoming observed," he continued. "My respect
+for it is certainly not increased by seeing those deep scars; they seem
+to be made by something which has sharp claws."
+
+"That is because of the shape which it has assumed, sahib," said the
+Arab, "for the Nats have wondrous powers----"
+
+"Very likely, Hassan," interposed Denviers; "I suppose they can do
+exactly what they like, can they not?" I was much surprised at the limit
+which was, however, placed upon their powers by our guide, for he
+responded quickly:--
+
+"Not altogether, sahib. There is one thing that a Nat cannot do,
+according to the reports of these Kachyens, and that is, they are unable
+to move in a direction which is not straight, and hence they are careful
+to avoid rough ground, where tangled masses and boulders bar their
+progress, so they usually frequent the open avenues, such as the one
+which we have just passed through. The symbols above it and the writings
+and weapons are all for the Nat's benefit."
+
+"And the elephant's skull?" asked Denviers, irreverently. "What is that
+put up for?" The Arab, however, had an explanation ready, for he
+promptly replied:--
+
+"That indicates where the supplies of food are to be found when the Nat
+requires any." Denviers turned to me for a moment as he said:--
+
+"I should have thought it a good plan, then, to have put it upon the hut
+of this Maw-Sayah whom we are about to interview. See that your weapons
+are in good order, Harold, we may soon need them." Giving a cautious
+look at my belt and the weapons thrust into it, I followed Denviers, who
+had mounted the short bamboo ladder, and was endeavouring to obtain
+admission to the hut. We heard a harsh sound within, then the cry of
+someone apparently terror-stricken, and a moment afterwards we had
+pushed past the Maw-Sayah, who by no means was willing to allow us to
+enter the rude dwelling.
+
+The single room, which seemed to constitute the hut, was extremely low
+and bare of furniture entirely. A few bamboos were spread in one part of
+it, while at the far end was a fire, the light from which was partly
+obscured by the smoke, which almost suffocated us, so thickly did it
+roll up and then spread through the hut. Near the door stood a man
+scarcely clothed, upon whose face we saw a look of the most abject
+terror, for, as we surmised, the noise of our entry was mistaken by him
+for the approach of the fell thing to which he was condemned by the
+Maw-Sayah. We moved towards the latter as he threw himself down by the
+fire, which he had only left to see who it was that came unbidden to the
+hut where to enter was the preceding event to death. He was clothed in a
+long blue strip of linen, which wound round his waist and covered his
+body, partly leaving his dark chest uncovered. His features were stamped
+with an appearance of supreme cunning, his oblique eyes reminding us of
+a Chinaman, while the fierce look in them as they glared at us from
+either side of an aquiline nose, which betrayed his Burmese descent, did
+not increase our confidence in the man as he stretched out his bony
+hands over the fire as if for warmth, although outside the hut we had
+found the heat almost insupportable.
+
+"What do ye seek?" he demanded, as he looked into our faces in turn and
+seemed astonished at our strange features.
+
+"We are travellers who wished to see a Kachyen village," responded
+Denviers, "and we further desired to see some of its inhabitants; but
+as none were visible we entered this hut, even against your will. Where
+are the people who dwell here?" The man whom my companion addressed
+pointed to the Kachyen near the doorway, as he responded:--
+
+"There is one of them, and in a short time even he will never be seen
+again."
+
+[Illustration: "WHAT DO YE SEEK?"]
+
+"Can you give us food?" hazarded Hassan, in order to get the man to
+continue his conversation, for the Arab evidently was expecting that the
+Nat would soon arrive upon the scene. The Maw-Sayah rose and pointed to
+the entrance as he cried:--
+
+"That way ye came, that way shall ye depart. Food for ye I have not, nor
+would I give it if I had." I turned to Denviers and said in a low
+tone:--
+
+"What shall we do, Frank? I don't think our opportunity of seeing what
+may transpire will be as good within the hut as without it. Whatever the
+solution is to this affair, if we are outside we shall see this Kachyen
+dragged away, and may further watch the approach of whatever caused
+those strange marks which we observed."
+
+"One thing is clear," said my companion, "we will attempt to save this
+intended victim, at all events. I expect that if we tried we could get
+him away easily enough, but that plan would not be of much service. We
+must attack this being, whatever it is, with which this Maw-Sayah is
+leagued. How I should like to hand him over as a victim instead of that
+trembling captive by the door. It shows to what extent this juggler has
+acquired power over this tribe, for I notice that his captive is
+unbound, and is certainly a much finer built man than the other."
+
+"It wants less than an hour to dusk, sahibs," said Hassan, who had
+listened carefully to our remarks; "if we were to station ourselves a
+little away from the hut we could see what took place, and if the Nat
+were mortal we might attack it."
+
+Denviers shrugged his shoulders at the Arab's supposition as he
+responded:--
+
+"There is little doubt, Hassan, that the Nat would smart if that keen
+blade of yours went a little too near it, but I think your plan is a
+good one, and we will adopt it, as it falls in with what has already
+been said." We gave a final look at the crafty face of the man who was
+still seated by the fire, and then brushing past the captive we made for
+the open village again.
+
+"I feel sorry for this Kachyen," said Denviers. "He will have a dreadful
+five minutes of it, I expect; but it is our only way of preventing, if
+possible, such an affair from occurring again." On leaving the hut we
+stationed ourselves almost opposite to it, and then began to keep watch.
+What we should see pass up the avenue we could only surmise, but our
+suppositions certainly did not lead us to imagine in the faintest degree
+the sight which before long was destined to completely startle us.
+
+
+III.
+
+The grey dusk was becoming night when among the dark stems of the trees
+we saw some black form move over the ground. We could scarcely
+distinguish it as it crawled over the bamboo logs and made a rasping
+noise as it clung to the ladder. The door of the hut yielded to it, and
+a minute after it again emerged and bore with it the terrified Kachyen.
+We crept after it as it dragged its captive down the avenue, striving
+our utmost to make out its shape. One thing we could tell, which was
+that the creature was not upright; but our movement behind it was
+apparently known, for it struggled to move quicker over the ground with
+its human burden.
+
+[Illustration: "IT AGAIN EMERGED."]
+
+"Shall I shoot it?" I whispered to Denviers, as my nerves seemed to be
+almost unstrung at the unknowableness of the creeping thing.
+
+"You would more likely kill the man," he responded. "Follow as
+noiselessly as you can--it will not let its prey escape, be sure of
+that. Once we track it to its haunt we will soon dispatch it, big and
+fierce as it seems."
+
+We drew nearer and nearer to it, until it had passed half-way down the
+avenue, then it seemed to become lost to our view, although we were, as
+we knew, close to it. I felt Denviers' hand upon my shoulder, and then
+he whispered:--
+
+"The Kachyen is being dragged up a tree just in front--look!" I could
+just distinguish something moving up the trunk, when suddenly the
+captive, who had hitherto been apparently paralyzed with terror, uttered
+a cry and then must have succeeded in disengaging himself from the
+dreadful thing that had held him, for the noise of someone falling to
+the ground was heard, and a minute after we distinguished the form of a
+man rushing headlong back to the village for safety.
+
+We did not anticipate such an event, and were contemplating a search for
+the captor of the Kachyen, when a cold sweat broke out upon me, for the
+clammy claws of the man-hunter had touched me! The sensation which
+seized me was only of short duration, for I felt myself released just as
+Denviers said:--
+
+"Harold, the Kachyen has fled, and his captor, determined to secure its
+prey, has betaken its crawling body after him. If only we had a light! I
+saw something like a black shadow moving onwards; get your pistol ready
+and follow." I just distinguished Denviers as he passed on in front of
+me, Hassan coming last. When we reached the hut of the Maw-Sayah we
+stopped at once, for, from the cry which came from it, we rightly
+surmised that the terrible seeker for human prey had made for this
+place, thinking, in its dull intelligence, that its captive had
+returned. We thrust ourselves into the hut, and saw by the red firelight
+a sanguinary contest between the Maw-Sayah and the black object which we
+had endeavoured to track. Thinking that the Kachyen was being destroyed,
+the juggler had not fastened his door, and the enraged man-eater had
+seized him as he rested on the ground, quite at its mercy!
+
+The Maw-Sayah was struggling with his bony hands to extricate himself
+from the clutches of a monstrous tree-spider! We had seen, on an island
+in the South Seas, several cocoa-nut crabs, and this reptile somewhat
+resembled them, but was even larger. Grasping the juggler with several
+of its long, furry-looking claws, it fixed its glaring red eyes in mad
+anger upon him as he grasped in each hand one of its front pair of
+legs, which were armed with strong, heavy-looking pincers. He besought
+us wildly to shoot, even if we killed him, held as he was by his
+relentless foe.
+
+"Harold," cried my companion, "keep clear, and look out for yourself
+when I fire at this reptile; most likely it will make for one of us." He
+drew right close to it, and thrusting the barrel of his pistol between
+its eyes touched the trigger. The explosion shook the hut, its effect
+upon the spider being to cause it to rush frantically about the floor,
+dragging the Maw-Sayah as if he were some slight burden scarcely
+observable.
+
+[Illustration: "A RELENTLESS FOE."]
+
+"You missed it!" I cried. "Look out, Hassan, guard the doorway!" The
+Arab stood, sword in hand, waiting for it to make for the entrance,
+while Denviers exclaimed:--
+
+"I shot it through the head!" and a minute afterwards the trueness of
+his aim was manifest, for the claws released, and the Maw-Sayah, wounded
+badly, but saved, stood free from the muscular twitchings of the dead
+spider.
+
+"You scoundrel!" said Denviers to him, "I have a good mind to serve you
+the same. You deserve to die as so many of these simple-minded,
+credulous Kachyens have done." I thought for one brief second that my
+companion was about to kill the juggler, for through all our adventures
+I had never seen him so thoroughly roused. I stood between them; then,
+when Denviers quickly recovered his self-command, I turned to the
+Maw-Sayah and asked:--
+
+"If we spare your life, will you promise to leave this village and never
+to return?" He turned his evil-looking but scared face towards us
+eagerly as he replied:--
+
+"I will do whatever you wish." Denviers motioned to him to rest upon the
+ground, which he did, then turning to me, said:--
+
+"It is pretty apparent what this juggler has done. The man who first
+reported the discovery of this Nat, as the foolish Kachyens call it,
+simply disturbed a monstrous spider which had lived in the trees which
+he felled--that accounts for his seeing it. Finding animal food scarce,
+the reptile ventured into this village and tried to get into one of the
+huts. Its exertions were rewarded by the Kachyen coming to the door,
+whom it accordingly seized. To continue its plan, which proved so
+successful, needed very little reasoning power on the part of such a
+cunning creature. No doubt this Maw-Sayah purposely left the door of his
+hut unfastened each seventh night, and the spider thus became accustomed
+to seek for its victim there, I daresay it came the other nights, but
+the juggler was then careful enough to keep his hut well fastened."
+
+"What do the sahibs propose to do?" interrupted Hassan. Denviers turned
+to him, as he responded:--
+
+"We will wait for daybreak; then, having dragged the dead spider out
+where the Kachyens may see that it is no longer able to harm them, we
+will take this Maw-Sayah down the mountain path away from the village as
+poor as he came."
+
+[Illustration: "YOU SCOUNDREL!"]
+
+"A good plan," I assented, and we followed it out, eventually leaving
+the juggler, and climbing once more into the howdah upon the elephant,
+which we found close to the spot where we had left it, secured from
+wandering far away by the rope which Hassan had used to hinder its
+movements.
+
+We entered Bhamo, and while we took a much-needed rest, our guide--as we
+afterwards learnt--searched for and found the fugitive Kachyen, who, on
+hearing that his safety was secured, hastily departed to the village to
+rejoice with the rest of his tribe that the so-called Nat would not do
+them any more injury.
+
+
+
+
+_From Behind the Speaker's Chair._
+
+III.
+
+(VIEWED BY HENRY W. LUCY.)
+
+[Illustration: "OBSTRUCTION."]
+
+It is thirteen years since a new Parliament last blithely started on its
+way with Mr. Gladstone sitting in the seat of the Premier. Since March,
+1880, a great deal has happened, not least in the change of
+circumstances under which the business of the House of Commons is
+conducted. The majority of the House of Commons may be Liberal or
+Conservative, according to a passing flood of conviction on the part of
+the constituencies. When presumptuous hands are stretched forth to touch
+the Ark of its procedure, its instincts are all Tory. For more than two
+hundred years preceding the advent of a Tory Ministry in 1886, this was
+so. Mr. Gladstone, driven to desperation in the second Session of the
+Parliament of 1880-5, endeavoured to reform procedure so that
+obstruction might be fought on even terms. He was met by such resolute
+and persistent opposition from the Conservative side that, even with an
+overwhelming majority at his back, he succeeded only in tinkering the
+pot. Oddly enough, it was left for the Conservatives when they came into
+office to revolutionize the system upon which, through the ages,
+Parliamentary business had been carried on.
+
+There was nothing in the reforms more startling to the old
+Parliamentarian than the proposal automatically to close debate at
+midnight. A dozen years ago members of the House of Commons assembled at
+four o'clock for prayers. Questions began at half-past four, and no one
+could say at what hour of the night or of the next morning the cry "Who
+goes home?" might echo through the lobby. In those days Mr. O'Donnell
+was master of the situation, and he had many imitators. A debate carried
+on through several nights might seem to be approaching a conclusion. The
+Leader of the Opposition, rising between eleven o'clock and midnight,
+spoke in a crowded House. The Premier, or his lieutenant, followed,
+assuming to wind up the debate. Members wearied of the long sitting were
+prepared to go forth to the division lobby; when from below the gangway
+on the left there uprose a familiar figure, and there was heard a
+well-known voice.
+
+[Illustration: F. H. O'DONNELL.]
+
+These usually belonged to Mr. O'Donnell bent upon vindicating the right
+of a private member to interpose when the constituted authorities of the
+House had agreed in the opinion that a debate had been continued long
+enough. A roar of execration from the fagged legislators greeted the
+intruder. He expected this, and was in no degree perturbed. In earliest
+practice he had a way of dropping his eye-glass as if startled by the
+uproar, and searched for it with puzzled, preoccupied expression,
+apparently debating with himself what this outburst might portend. He
+did not love the British House of Commons, and delighted in thwarting
+its purposes. But he knew what was due to it in the way of respect, and,
+however angry passions might rise, however turbulent the scene, he would
+never address it looking upon it with the naked eye. As his eye-glass
+was constantly tumbling out, and as search for it was preternaturally
+deliberate, it played an appreciable part in the prolongation of
+successive Sessions.
+
+[Illustration: "EYE-GLASS PLAY."]
+
+What has become of Frank Hugh now, I wonder? Vanishing from the House of
+Commons, he reappeared for a while on the scene, characteristically
+acting the part of the petrel that heralded the storm Mr. Pigott
+ineffectively tried to ride. It must be a consolation to Mr. O'Donnell,
+in his retirement, wherever it is passed, to reflect on the fact that it
+was he who directly brought about the appointment of the Parnell
+Commission, with all it effected. His action for libel brought against
+the _Times_ preluded and inevitably led up to the formal investigation
+of the famous Charges and Allegations.
+
+The member for Dungarvan was, in his day, the most thoroughly disliked
+man in the House of Commons, distaste for Mr. Parnell and for Mr. Biggar
+in his early prime being softened by contrast with his subtler
+provocation. An exceedingly clever debater, he was a phrase maker, some
+of whose epigrams Mr. Disraeli would not have disowned. He was a
+parliamentary type of ancient standing, and apparently ineradicable
+growth. In the present House of Commons fresh developments are presented
+by Mr. Seymour Keay and Mr. Morton. These are distinct varieties, but
+from the unmistakable root. Both are gifted with boundless volubility,
+unhampered by ordinary considerations of coherency and cogency. Neither
+is influenced by that sense of the dread majesty of the House of Commons
+which keeps some members dumb all through their parliamentary life, and
+to the last, as in the case of Mr. Bright, weighs upon even great
+orators. The difference between the older and the new development is
+that whilst over Mr. O'Donnell's intentional and deliberate vacuity of
+speech there gleamed frequent flashes of wit, Mr. Morton and Mr. Keay
+are only occasionally funny, and then the effect was undesigned.
+
+[Illustration: O'DONNELL'S LAST APPEARANCE.]
+
+[Illustration: MR. SEYMOUR KEAY.]
+
+Since we have these two gentlemen still with us, it would be rash to say
+that if Mr. O'Donnell could revisit the glimpses of Big Ben he would
+find his occupation gone. He would certainly discover that his
+opportunities had been limited, and would have to recommence practice
+under greatly altered conditions. One of the former member for
+Dungarvan's famous achievements took place in the infancy of the
+Parliament of 1880-5, and, apart from its dramatic interest, is valuable
+as illustrating the change effected in parliamentary procedure by the
+New Rules. On that particular June night the paper was loaded with
+questions in a fashion unfamiliar in the last Parliament, though there
+are not lacking signs of renewed activity since political parties
+changed places. Question No. 23 stood in the name of Mr. O'Donnell, and
+contained in his best literary style a serious indictment of M.
+Challemel-Lacour, just nominated by the French Government as their
+representative at the Court of St. James.
+
+[Illustration: MR. A. C. MORTON.]
+
+Sir Charles Dilke, then Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs, made
+categorical reply, directly traversing all the points in the indictment.
+When he resumed his seat Mr. O'Donnell rose in his usual deliberate
+manner, captured his eye-glass, and having fixed it to his satisfaction,
+remarked in his drawling voice that it was "perfectly impossible to
+accept the explanation of the Government." Being interrupted with cries
+of "Order! Order!" he quietly played his trump card: "If I am not
+allowed to explain," he said, "I will conclude with a motion."
+
+[Illustration: SIR CHARLES DILKE.]
+
+The House howled again, but it was a cry of despair. Mr. O'Donnell, they
+knew, had the whip hand. In those good old days he, or any other member
+desiring to obstruct ordinary procedure, might, in the middle of
+questions, start a debate on any subject under the sun. This and other
+outrages were doubtless recalled by the House of Commons when revising
+its Rules. It then ordered that no member might, during the progress of
+questions, interpose with a motion on which to found debate. If, in this
+current month of March, Mr. O'Donnell, being a member of the House of
+Commons, had wanted to attack M. Challemel-Lacour, he must needs have
+waited till the last question on the paper was disposed of, and could
+then have moved the adjournment only if his description of the
+question--as one of urgent public importance--was approved by the
+Speaker, and if, thereafter, forty members rose to support the request
+for a hearing.
+
+In June, 1880, all that was left for the crowded House to do was to roar
+with resentment. Mr. O'Donnell was used to this incentive, and had it
+been withheld would probably have shown signs of failing vigour. As it
+was, he produced a pocket-handkerchief, took down his eye-glass and
+carefully polished it, whilst members yelled and tossed about on their
+seats with impotent fury. Under the existing Rules this scene, if it had
+ever opened, would have been promptly blotted out. The closure would
+have been moved, probably a division taken, and the business of the
+evening would have gone forward. There was no closure in those days, and
+Mr. Gladstone, after hurried consultation with Sir Erskine May, hastily
+moved that Mr. O'Donnell be not heard.
+
+A shout of savage exultation rising from every bench, save those on
+which the Irish members sat, hailed a stroke that promised to deliver
+the House from the thraldom of Mr. O'Donnell at the very moment when its
+chains had taken a final twist. In ordinary circumstances this
+resolution would have played the part of the as yet unconsecrated
+closure. A division would have followed, the motion carried by an
+overwhelming majority, and Mr. O'Donnell would have been temporarily
+shut up.
+
+But those were not ordinary times. The Fourth Party was in the prime of
+its vigour. Lord Randolph Churchill's quick eye discovered an opening
+for irritating Mr. Gladstone and damaging the Government by making what
+should have been a business night one long turmoil. Mr. Parnell, whilst
+disclaiming any personal sympathy with Mr. O'Donnell, moved the
+adjournment of the debate, and poor, placid Sir Stafford Northcote,
+egged on by the young bloods below the gangway, raised various points of
+order. Finally, at eight o'clock, the House dividing on Mr. Parnell's
+amendment, Sir Stafford Northcote voted with the Irish members, leading
+a hundred men of the Party of Law and Order into the same lobby.
+
+[Illustration: STIRRING UP SIR STAFFORD.]
+
+Hour after hour the riot continued. At one time blameless Sir William
+Harcourt, then Home Secretary, appearing at the table, a Conservative
+member, amid tumultuous shouts, moved that he be not heard. When members
+grew tired of shouting at each other they divided on fresh motions for
+the adjournment, and it was not till one o'clock on the following
+morning that Mr. O'Donnell, grateful for a pleasant evening, was good
+enough to undertake that before he recurred to the question he would
+give due notice, so that the Speaker might exercise his discretion in
+revising its terms. At five minutes past one in the morning, after a
+wrangle full eight hours long, the Speaker, with a pretty assumption of
+nothing particular having happened, called on the next question on the
+paper, which was Number 24.
+
+All this might happen again on any night of this month save for the
+beneficent action of the New Rules a long-suffering Parliament was
+finally induced to adopt. On the threshold of a new Parliament it is
+useful to recall the scene as an assistance in calculating what may be
+accomplished by the Parliament elected in 1892, as compared with that
+which began its history in 1880. On the face of it, Parliament to-day
+has much less time at its disposal for the accomplishment of work than
+it had a dozen years ago. Then, the duration of a sitting was
+indefinite. The House might, as it did in February, 1881, meet at four
+o'clock on a Monday afternoon and sit continuously till Wednesday
+morning. Now, the Speaker takes the Chair at three o'clock; public
+business commences at half-past three; and at midnight, save in cases
+where the Standing Order has been formally suspended, the Speaker leaves
+the Chair, and the House adjourns, whoever may be on his feet.
+
+[Illustration: "DISGUST."]
+
+The influence of this automatic procedure is beneficially felt
+throughout the whole of debate. One wholesome influence works in the
+direction of using up the early hours of the sitting, an arrangement
+which carries comfort to countless printing offices and editorial
+sanctums. Some time before the New Rules came into operation, Mr.
+Gladstone discovered for himself the convenience and desirability of
+taking part in debate at the earliest possible hour of a sitting. His
+earlier associations drifted round a directly opposite course. In the
+good old days the champions of debate did not interpose till close upon
+midnight, when they had the advantage of audiences sustained and
+exhilarated by dinner. That was before the era of special wires to the
+provincial papers, early morning trams, and vastly increased circulation
+for the London journals. Mr. Gladstone discovered that he was more
+carefully reported and his observations more deliberately discussed if
+he spoke between five and seven o'clock in the evening than if,
+following his earlier habit, he addressed the House between eleven and
+one in the morning. He has, accordingly, for some years been accustomed,
+when he has an important speech to deliver, to interpose in debate
+immediately after questions.
+
+This habit has become general, even compulsory, with members who may,
+within certain limits, choose their own time for speaking. All the cream
+of debate is now skimmed before the dinner-hour. At the close of a
+pitched battle, the two Leaders of Party, as heretofore, wind up the
+debate. But their opportunity for orating is severely circumscribed. The
+audience in the House of Commons does not begin to reassemble after
+dinner till half-past ten. Rising at that hour, the Leader of the
+Opposition, if he fairly divides the available time with the right
+honourable gentleman opposite, must not speak more than three-quarters
+of an hour, and should not exceed forty minutes.
+
+This is a necessity desirable not less in the orator's interest than in
+that of the audience. Except for the exposition of an intricate measure,
+twenty minutes is ample time for any man to say what is useful for his
+fellow-men to hear. All Mr. Disraeli's best speeches were made within
+half an hour, and if he thought it necessary, from a sense of the
+importance of his position, to prolong them, his stock of good things
+was exhausted in twenty minutes, the rest being what Carlyle
+disrespectfully described as thrice-boiled cole-wort. Mr. Gladstone can
+go on indefinitely, and in very recent times has been known to hold his
+audience spell-bound for three hours. But even he has profited by the
+beneficent tyranny that now rules the limit of debate, and, rising with
+the knowledge that he has but forty minutes to speak in, has excelled
+himself. For less exuberant speakers not gifted with his genius, the new
+discipline is even more marked in its benefits.
+
+[Illustration: MR. KEIR HARDIE.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It is too soon to endeavour to estimate the general characteristics of
+the _personnel_ of the new Parliament. It will probably turn out to be
+very much of the same class as the innumerable army of its predecessors.
+When Mr. Keir Hardie came down on the opening day in a wagonette, with
+flags flying and accordions playing, it was cried aloud in some quarters
+that the end was at hand. This apprehension was strengthened when Mr.
+Hardie strolled about the House with a tweed travelling cap on his head,
+the Speaker at the time being in the chair. This, as Dr. Johnson
+explained, when the lady asked him why he had described the horse's
+pastern as its knee, was "ignorance, pure ignorance." Mr. Hardie is not
+a man of the quietest manners, as was testified to by the apparition in
+Palace Yard of the wagonette and its musical party; but in the
+much-talked-of incident of the cap he sinned inadvertently. Before the
+Speaker took the chair he had seen members walking about with their hats
+on. He had observed that even in his presence they remained seated with
+their heads covered. The shade of etiquette which approves this fashion
+whilst it sternly prohibits a member from keeping his hat on when in
+motion, even to the extent of leaning over to speak to a friend on the
+bench below him, was too fine to catch the eye of a new member.
+
+Mr. Keir Hardie has done much worse things than this in his public
+appearances during the recess, and since the Session opened there has
+not been lacking evidence of resolve to keep himself in the front of the
+stage where the gallery may see him. But this is no new thing, to be
+cited in proof of the deterioration of the composition and style of the
+House of Commons. It has been done repeatedly in various fashions within
+recent memory, and always with the same result. No man, not even Mr.
+Biggar--and he may be cited as the most ruthless experimenter--has
+successfully struggled against the subtle disciplinary influence of the
+House of Commons.
+
+From the first the member for Cavan set himself in deliberate fashion to
+outrage Parliamentary traditions and usages. He finished by becoming a
+punctilious practitioner of Parliamentary forms, a stickler for the
+minutest observation of order. Whilst Mr. Gladstone and other members of
+old standing were content to preface their speeches with the
+monosyllable "Sir," nothing less than "Mr. Speaker, sir," would satisfy
+Mr. Biggar. No one who has not heard the inflection of tone with which
+this was uttered, nor seen the oratorical sweep of the hand that
+launched it on its course, can realize how much of combined deference
+and authority the phrase is capable of. Mr. Biggar, having in his early
+Parliamentary days defied the Chair and affronted the sensibilities of
+the House, alike in the matter of dress and deportment, developed into a
+portly gentleman of almost smug appearance, a terror to new members. Woe
+to any who in his ignorance passed between the Chair and the member
+addressing it; who walked in from a division with his hat on; or who
+stood an inch or two within the Bar whilst debate was going forward. Mr.
+Biggar's strident cry of "Order! Order!" reverberated through the House.
+Others joined in the shout, and the abashed offender hastily withdrew
+into obscurity.
+
+[Illustration: THE LATE MR. BIGGAR.]
+
+It is the same with others of less strongly marked character. Vanity or
+garrulity may force a new member into a position of notoriety. He may,
+according to his measure of determination, try a fall again and again
+with the House, and may sometimes, as in the case of Mr. O'Donnell, seem
+to win. But in the end the House of Commons proves victorious. It is a
+sort of whetstone on which blades of various temperature operate. In
+time, they either forego the practice or wear themselves away. In either
+case the whetstone remains.
+
+This is a rule without exception, and is a reassuring reflection in view
+of the talk about the degeneracy of the House of Commons, and the
+decadence of its standard of manner. It would not be difficult to show
+that the House at present in Session will, from the point of view of
+manners, favourably compare with any that have gone before--though, to
+be just, the comparison should be sought with Parliaments elected under
+similar conditions, with the Liberals in office and the Conservatives in
+opposition. That is an arrangement always found to be more conducive to
+lively proceedings than when parties are disposed in the contrary order.
+The Parliament dissolved last year was decorously dull. Mr. Gladstone in
+opposition is not prone to show sport, and no encouragement was held out
+to enterprising groups below the gangway to bait the Government. It was
+very different in the Parliament of 1880-5, of which fact the
+Challemel-Lacour episode is an illustration, only a little more piquant
+in flavour than the average supply.
+
+There are already signs that the new Parliament will not lie under the
+charge of deplorable dulness brought against its predecessor. But these
+varying moods are due to waves of political passion, and do not affect
+the question whether the House of Commons as a body of English gentlemen
+met for the discharge of public business has or has not deteriorated. I
+have an engraving of a picture of the House of Commons in pre-Reform
+days. It was carefully drawn in the Session of 1842. A more respectable
+body of the gentlemen of England it would be difficult to gather
+together. With the possible exception of one or two political
+adventurers like the then member for Shrewsbury, there is probably not a
+man in the House who is not well born or at least rich. Mr. Keir Hardie
+would look strange indeed in these serried ranks of portly gentlemen
+with high coat collars, cravats up to their chin, short-bodied coats
+showing the waistcoat beneath, and the tightly trousered legs. Yet this
+House, and its equally prim successors, had its obstruction, its
+personal wrangles, and its occasional duel. Peel was attacked by
+Disraeli in a fashion and in language that would not be tolerated in the
+House of Commons now, even though the target were Mr. Gladstone.
+
+It is not necessary to go back as far as the days of Peel or
+Parliamentary Reform to sustain the bold assertion that, so far from
+having degenerated, the manners of the House of Commons have improved.
+In the Parliament elected in 1874 there sat on the Conservative side a
+gentleman named Smollet, who early distinguished himself by bringing
+Parliamentary debate down to the level of conversation in "Roderick
+Random." In those days Mr. Gladstone was down after the General
+Election, and Mr. Smollet, to the uproarious delight of gentlemen near
+him, savagely kicked him.
+
+[Illustration: "MOBBING HIM."]
+
+It was in the second year of this same Parliament, less than twenty
+years ago, that Mr. Gladstone, issuing from a division lobby, was
+suddenly pounced upon by some fifty or sixty Conservative members, and
+howled at for the space of several moments. It is, happily, possible for
+Mr. Gladstone to forget, or at least to forgive, personal attacks made
+upon him through his long career. In this very month of the new Session
+he may be nightly seen working in cordial fashion with ancient
+adversaries from Ireland, describing as "my honourable friends"
+gentlemen who, ten years ago and for some time subsequently, heaped on
+his head the coarsest vituperation permitted by practised manipulation
+of Parliamentary forms. But this scene in the division lobby on the 12th
+of April, 1875, is burned into his recollection. I have heard him,
+within the last few months, refer to it in those tones of profound
+indignation and with that flashing fire in his eyes only seen when he is
+deeply moved. He mentioned, what I think was not known, that Lord
+Hartington happened to be walking with him at the time. But there was no
+mistake for whom the angry cries were meant. Mr. Gladstone spoke with
+the profounder indignation because, as he said, he had on this occasion
+gone out to vote on behalf of a man whose character he detested, because
+he saw in the action taken against him an attack upon one of the
+privileges of Parliament.
+
+That scene was an outburst of political animosity; and the movements of
+political animosity, like the dicta of taste, are not to be disputed.
+But on the question of good manners, the only one here under
+consideration, it may be affirmed that the present House of Commons
+would be safe from lapse into such an exhibition. To this better state
+of things the operation of the New Rules has conspicuously contributed,
+and though, as we know, they have not operated to the absolute
+extinction of Parliamentary scenes, they have appreciably limited
+opportunity and incentive.
+
+
+
+
+_Portraits of Celebrities at Different Times of their Lives_.
+
+
+LORD BATTERSEA.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 14.
+
+_From a Daguerreotype._]
+
+BORN 1843.
+
+
+Lord Battersea, who was until recently known to the world as Mr. Cyril
+Flower, M.P., is a son of the late Mr. P. W. Flower, of Streatham, and
+was educated at Harrow and at Trinity College, Cambridge.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 21.
+
+_From a Photo, by Mayland, Cambridge._]
+
+He was called to the Bar at the age of twenty-seven, and became Liberal
+Member for Brecknock in 1880, and for the Luton Division of Bedfordshire
+in 1885 and 1886, in which later year he was one of Mr. Gladstone's
+"Whips." He married the daughter of the late Sir Anthony Rothschild, and
+both he and his wife are much interested in the welfare of the lower
+classes of London. Lord Battersea was unanimously reputed the handsomest
+man in the House of Commons, and is now, in every sense of the word, an
+ornament of the House of Lords.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 40.
+
+_From a Drawing._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photograph by Bassano, 35, Old Bond Street, W._.]
+
+
+W. Q. ORCHARDSON, R.A.
+
+BORN 1835.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 16.
+
+_From an Oil Sketch by himself._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 35.
+
+_From a Photograph by Walery, Marseilles._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 44.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+Mr. William Quiller Orchardson was born in Edinburgh, and at the age of
+fifteen entered the Trustees' Academy of that city, his first pictures
+being exhibited in the Royal Scottish Academy. At the age of
+twenty-eight he came to London, and the same year exhibited at the Royal
+Academy for the first time, his contributions being entitled, "An Old
+English Song" and "Portraits," the latter a life-size composition of
+three young ladies. In 1865 he painted "The Challenge," which won a
+prize of L100 given by Mr. Wallace, and one of the very few Medals
+awarded to English painters at the Paris Universal Exhibition. In 1866
+came "The Story of a Life"--an aged nun relating her experiences to a
+group of novices. Two years later, when he had only been four years in
+London, he was elected an A.R.A. Among his more recent pictures may be
+mentioned "Napoleon on Board the _Bellerophon_" (1880), "The Salon of
+Madame Recamier" (1885), "The Young Duke" (1889), and "St. Helena"
+(1892). Mr. Orchardson was elected an R.A. in 1877, and a D.C.L. of
+Oxford in 1890.
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+
+LADY HALLE.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 10.
+
+_From a Drawing._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 23.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+Lady Halle, whose maiden name was Wilhelmine Neruda, was born at Bruenn,
+where her father was organist of the cathedral. She was a pupil of
+Jansa, and made her first appearance at Vienna at the age of six, and in
+London at the age of nine. After this she returned to the Continent, and
+in 1864 she married Ludwig Norman, a Swedish musician. Since 1869 she
+has been in England every winter, playing especially at the concerts of
+Sir Charles Halle, whom she married in 1888.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 35.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo by Burraud_.]
+
+
+SIR CHARLES HALLE.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 20.
+
+_From a Painting._]
+
+Sir Charles Halle is a native of Germany, but at an early age he
+established himself in Paris, where he acquired a great reputation by
+his refined and classical rendering of the compositions of the great
+musicians; but the Revolution of 1843 drove him to England, where he has
+ever since resided. He soon established himself at Manchester, and as
+the founder of the annual series of orchestral and choral concerts there
+and in London, which have become, perhaps, the most important series in
+Europe, he has rendered the most valuable service to musical art.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 31.
+
+_From a Painting._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 45.
+
+_From a Photo, by H. Hering, Regent Street, W._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo. by Mayall & Co., 164, New Bond Street, W._]
+
+
+DR. HERMANN ADLER,
+
+CHIEF RABBI.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 24.
+
+_From a Photograph by McLean & Haes, Haymarket._]
+
+Born 1839.
+
+Dr. Adler, son of Dr. Nathan Marcus Adler, was born in Hanover, and came
+to London with his father at the age of six. He studied at University
+College, took his B. A. degree at the University of London at twenty,
+and that of Ph. D., at Leipzig, at twenty-two. In the following year he
+was ordained Rabbi by the famous Rapoport, Chief Rabbi of Prague, and
+became in succession Principal of the Jews' College in London and Chief
+Minister of the Bayswater Synagogue. In 1890 his father, the Chief
+Rabbi, died, and Dr. Adler was elected in his place. Dr. Adler is well
+known not only by his powerful and scholarly writings, but by his work
+among the poorer Jews of London.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 37.
+
+_From a Photograph by J. R. Sawyer, Norwich._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 44.
+
+_From a Photograph by Fradella, 216, Regent Street, W._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photograph by The Photographic Co._]
+
+
+SIR ARCHIBALD ALISON, BART., K.C.B.
+
+Born 1826.
+
+General Alison, son of Sir Archibald Alison, the first Baronet, who was
+the well-known author of "The History of Europe," was born at Edinburgh,
+and entered the Army at the age of twenty. He served in the Crimea, at
+the siege and fall of Sebastopol, at which date our second portrait
+represents him. During the Indian Mutiny he lost an arm at the relief of
+Lucknow. In 1882 he commanded the 1st Brigade, 2nd Division, during the
+expedition to Egypt, and at the decisive battle of Tel-el-Kebir he led
+the Highland Brigade which fought so gallantly on that memorable
+occasion, and after Arabi's surrender he was left in Egypt with the
+command of the British army of 12,000 men to restore order and protect
+the Khedive. Sir Archibald was included in the thanks of Parliament for
+his energy and gallantry, and was promoted to the rank of
+Lieutenant-General; he received his appointment as General in 1889. In
+1869 Sir Archibald Alison published an able treatise, "On Army
+Organization."
+
+[Illustration: AGE 3.
+
+_From a Miniature._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 31.
+
+_From a Daguerreotype by Werge, Glasgow._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 47.
+
+_From a Photograph by Jacklett, Aldershot._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo, by Barraud._]
+
+
+MADAME JANE HADING.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 3.
+
+_From a Photo. by Chalot et Cie., Paris._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 5.
+
+_From a Photo. by Chalot et Cie., Paris._]
+
+Madame Jane Hading, the well-known French actress, was born at
+Marseilles, in 1863, where her father was popular as a leading actor,
+with whom she appeared when only three years of age as little _Blanche
+de Caylus_ in "Le Bossu." At the age of thirteen she began work in
+earnest, having won "le prix de solfege" at the Marseille Conservatoire,
+and her talent having come to the ears of Mr. Plunkett, the director of
+the Palais Royal, he engaged her for the Palais Royal in Paris, where
+she created the part of _La Chaste Suzanne_, by Paul Ferrier. Giving up
+comic opera for comedy, Jane Hading went to the Gymnase, where she
+created the part of _Claire de Beaulieu_ in "Le Maitre de Forges."
+London had the opportunity of seeing her in that and "Prince Zilah," by
+Jules Claretie, later on, and fully indorsed the Parisian verdict. These
+conspicuous successes were followed by others almost as notable, and her
+subsequent tour in America won her golden opinions, and was so
+successful that it was extended some months. Her latest Parisian success
+was "Le Prince d'Aurec," which added greatly to her laurels, putting her
+in the very front rank of great artists.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 15.
+
+_From a Photo. by Fabre, Marseilles._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo, by Reutlinger, Paris._]
+
+
+
+
+_The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_.
+
+XVI.--THE ADVENTURE OF THE STOCKBROKER'S CLERK.
+
+BY A. CONAN DOYLE.
+
+
+Shortly after my marriage I had bought a connection in the Paddington
+district. Old Mr. Farquhar, from whom I purchased it, had at one time an
+excellent general practice, but his age, and an affliction of the nature
+of St. Vitus' dance, from which he suffered, had very much thinned it.
+The public, not unnaturally, goes upon the principle that he who would
+heal others must himself be whole, and looks askance at the curative
+powers of the man whose own case is beyond the reach of his drugs. Thus,
+as my predecessor weakened, his practice declined, until when I
+purchased it from him it had sunk from twelve hundred to little more
+than three hundred a year. I had confidence, however, in my own youth
+and energy, and was convinced that in a very few years the concern would
+be as flourishing as ever.
+
+For three months after taking over the practice I was kept very closely
+at work, and saw little of my friend Sherlock Holmes, for I was too busy
+to visit Baker Street, and he seldom went anywhere himself save upon
+professional business. I was surprised, therefore, when one morning in
+June, as I sat reading the _British Medical Journal_ after breakfast, I
+heard a ring at the bell followed by the high, somewhat strident, tones
+of my old companion's voice.
+
+"Ah, my dear Watson," said he, striding into the room. "I am very
+delighted to see you. I trust that Mrs. Watson has entirely recovered
+from all the little excitements connected with our adventure of the
+'Sign of Four.'"
+
+"Thank you, we are both very well," said I, shaking him warmly by the
+hand.
+
+"And I hope also," he continued, sitting down in the rocking-chair,
+"that the cares of medical practice have not entirely obliterated the
+interest which you used to take in our little deductive problems."
+
+"On the contrary," I answered; "it was only last night that I was
+looking over my old notes and classifying some of our past results."
+
+"I trust that you don't consider your collection closed?"
+
+"Not at all. I should wish nothing better than to have some more of such
+experiences."
+
+"To-day, for example?"
+
+"Yes; to-day, if you like."
+
+"And as far off as Birmingham?"
+
+"Certainly, if you wish it."
+
+"And the practice?"
+
+"I do my neighbour's when he goes. He is always ready to work off the
+debt."
+
+[Illustration: "'NOTHING COULD BE BETTER,' SAID HOLMES."]
+
+"Ha! Nothing could be better!" said Holmes, leaning back in his chair
+and looking keenly at me from under his half-closed lids. "I perceive
+that you have been unwell lately. Summer colds are always a little
+trying."
+
+"I was confined to the house by a severe chill for three days last week.
+I thought, however, that I had cast off every trace of it."
+
+"So you have. You look remarkably robust."
+
+"How, then, did you know of it?"
+
+"My dear fellow, you know my methods."
+
+"You deduced it, then?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"And from what?"
+
+"From your slippers."
+
+I glanced down at the new patent leathers which I was wearing. "How on
+earth----?" I began, but Holmes answered my question before it was
+asked.
+
+"Your slippers are new," he said. "You could not have had them more than
+a few weeks. The soles which you are at this moment presenting to me are
+slightly scorched. For a moment I thought they might have got wet and
+been burned in the drying. But near the instep there is a small circular
+wafer of paper with the shopman's hieroglyphics upon it. Damp would of
+course have removed this. You had then been sitting with your feet
+outstretched to the fire, which a man would hardly do even in so wet a
+June as this if he were in his full health."
+
+Like all Holmes's reasoning the thing seemed simplicity itself when it
+was once explained. He read the thought upon my features, and his smile
+had a tinge of bitterness.
+
+"I am afraid that I rather give myself away when I explain," said he.
+"Results without causes are much more impressive. You are ready to come
+to Birmingham, then?"
+
+"Certainly. What is the case?"
+
+"You shall hear it all in the train. My client is outside in a
+four-wheeler. Can you come at once?"
+
+"In an instant." I scribbled a note to my neighbour, rushed upstairs to
+explain the matter to my wife, and joined Holmes upon the doorstep.
+
+"Your neighbour is a doctor?" said he, nodding at the brass plate.
+
+"Yes. He bought a practice as I did."
+
+"An old-established one?"
+
+"Just the same as mine. Both have been ever since the houses were
+built."
+
+"Ah, then you got hold of the best of the two."
+
+"I think I did. But how do you know?"
+
+"By the steps, my boy. Yours are worn three inches deeper than his. But
+this gentleman in the cab is my client, Mr. Hall Pycroft. Allow me to
+introduce you to him. Whip your horse up, cabby, for we have only just
+time to catch our train."
+
+The man whom I found myself facing was a well-built, fresh-complexioned
+young fellow with a frank, honest face and a slight, crisp, yellow
+moustache. He wore a very shiny top-hat and a neat suit of sober black,
+which made him look what he was--a smart young City man, of the class
+who have been labelled Cockneys, but who give us our crack Volunteer
+regiments, and who turn out more fine athletes and sportsmen than any
+body of men in these islands. His round, ruddy face was naturally full
+of cheeriness, but the corners of his mouth seemed to me to be pulled
+down in a half-comical distress. It was not, however, until we were all
+in a first-class carriage and well started upon our journey to
+Birmingham, that I was able to learn what the trouble was which had
+driven him to Sherlock Holmes.
+
+"We have a clear run here of seventy minutes," Holmes remarked. "I want
+you, Mr. Hall Pycroft, to tell my friend your very interesting
+experience exactly as you have told it to me, or with more detail if
+possible. It will be of use to me to hear the succession of events
+again. It is a case, Watson, which may prove to have something in it, or
+may prove to have nothing, but which at least presents those unusual and
+_outre_ features which are as dear to you as they are to me. Now, Mr.
+Pycroft, I shall not interrupt you again."
+
+Our young companion looked at me with a twinkle in his eye.
+
+"The worst of the story is," said he, "that I show myself up as such a
+confounded fool. Of course, it may work out all right, and I don't see
+that I could have done otherwise; but if I have lost my crib and get
+nothing in exchange, I shall feel what a soft Johnny I have been. I'm
+not very good at telling a story, Dr. Watson, but it is like this with
+me.
+
+"I used to have a billet at Coxon and Woodhouse, of Drapers' Gardens,
+but they were let in early in the spring through the Venezuelan loan, as
+no doubt you remember, and came a nasty cropper. I had been with them
+five years, and old Coxon gave me a ripping good testimonial when the
+smash came; but, of course, we clerks were all turned adrift, the
+twenty-seven of us. I tried here and tried there, but there were lots of
+other chaps on the same lay as myself, and it was a perfect frost for a
+long time. I had been taking three pounds a week at Coxon's, and I had
+saved about seventy of them, but I soon worked my way through that and
+out at the other end. I was fairly at the end of my tether at last, and
+could hardly find the stamps to answer the advertisements or the
+envelopes to stick them to. I had worn out my boots padding up office
+stairs, and I seemed just as far from getting a billet as ever.
+
+"At last I saw a vacancy at Mawson and Williams', the great stockbroking
+firm in Lombard Street. I daresay E. C. is not much in your line, but I
+can tell you that this is about the richest house in London. The
+advertisement was to be answered by letter only. I sent in my
+testimonial and application, but without the least hope of getting it.
+Back came an answer by return saying that if I would appear next Monday
+I might take over my new duties at once, provided that my appearance was
+satisfactory. No one knows how these things are worked. Some people say
+the manager just plunges his hand into the heap and takes the first that
+comes. Anyhow, it was my innings that time, and I don't ever wish to
+feel better pleased. The screw was a pound a week rise, and the duties
+just about the same as at Coxon's.
+
+"And now I come to the queer part of the business. I was in diggings out
+Hampstead way--17, Potter's Terrace, was the address. Well, I was
+sitting doing a smoke that very evening after I had been promised the
+appointment, when up came my landlady with a card which had 'Arthur
+Pinner, financial agent,' printed upon it. I had never heard the name
+before, and could not imagine what he wanted with me, but of course I
+asked her to show him up. In he walked--a middle-sized, dark-haired,
+dark-eyed, black-bearded man, with a touch of the sheeny about his nose.
+He had a brisk kind of way with him and spoke sharply, like a man that
+knew the value of time.
+
+[Illustration: "'MR. HALL PYCROFT, I BELIEVE?' SAID HE."]
+
+"'Mr. Hall Pycroft, I believe?' said he.
+
+"'Yes, sir,' I answered, and pushed a chair towards him.
+
+"'Lately engaged at Coxon and Woodhouse's?'
+
+"'Yes, sir.'
+
+"And now on the staff of Mawson's?'
+
+"'Quite so.'
+
+"'Well,' said he. 'The fact is that I have heard some really
+extraordinary stories about your financial ability. You remember Parker
+who used to be Coxon's manager? He can never say enough about it.'
+
+"Of course I was pleased to hear this. I had always been pretty smart in
+the office, but I had never dreamed that I was talked about in the City
+in this fashion.
+
+"'You have a good memory?' said he.
+
+"'Pretty fair,' I answered, modestly.
+
+"'Have you kept in touch with the market while you have been out of
+work?' he asked.
+
+"'Yes; I read the Stock Exchange List every morning.'
+
+"'Now, that shows real application!' he cried. 'That is the way to
+prosper! You won't mind my testing you, will you? Let me see! How are
+Ayrshires?'
+
+"'One hundred and six and a quarter to one hundred and five and
+seven-eighths,' I answered.
+
+"'And New Zealand Consolidated?'
+
+"'A hundred and four.'
+
+"'And British Broken Hills?'
+
+"'Seven to seven and six.'
+
+"'Wonderful!' he cried, with his hands up. 'This quite fits in with all
+that I had heard. My boy, my boy, you are very much too good to be a
+clerk at Mawson's!'
+
+"This outburst rather astonished me, as you can think. 'Well,' said I,
+'other people don't think quite so much of me as you seem to do, Mr.
+Pinner. I had a hard enough fight to get this berth, and I am very glad
+to have it.'
+
+"'Pooh, man, you should soar above it. You are not in your true sphere.
+Now I'll tell you how it stands with me. What I have to offer is little
+enough when measured by your ability, but when compared with Mawson's it
+is light to dark. Let me see! When do you go to Mawson's?'
+
+"'On Monday.'
+
+"'Ha! ha! I think I would risk a little sporting flutter that you don't
+go there at all.'
+
+"'Not go to Mawson's?'
+
+"'No, sir. By that day you will be the business manager of the
+Franco-Midland Hardware Company, Limited, with one hundred and
+thirty-four branches in the towns and villages of France, not counting
+one in Brussels and one in San Remo.'
+
+"This took my breath away. 'I never heard of it,' said I.
+
+"'Very likely not. It has been kept very quiet, for the capital was all
+privately subscribed, and it is too good a thing to let the public into.
+My brother, Harry Pinner, is promoter, and joins the board after
+allotment as managing director. He knew that I was in the swim down
+here, and he asked me to pick up a good man cheap--a young, pushing man
+with plenty of snap about him. Parker spoke of you, and that brought me
+here to-night. We can only offer you a beggarly five hundred to start
+with----'
+
+"'Five hundred a year!' I shouted.
+
+"'Only that at the beginning, but you are to have an over-riding
+commission of 1 per cent, on all business done by your agents, and you
+may take my word for it that this will come to more than your salary.'
+
+"'But I know nothing about hardware.'
+
+"'Tut, my boy, you know about figures.'
+
+"My head buzzed, and I could hardly sit still in the chair. But suddenly
+a little chill of doubt came over me.
+
+"'I must be frank with you,' said I. 'Mawson only gives me two hundred,
+but Mawson is safe. Now, really, I know so little about your company
+that----'
+
+"'Ah, smart, smart!' he cried, in a kind of ecstasy of delight. 'You are
+the very man for us! You are not to be talked over, and quite right too.
+Now, here's a note for a hundred pounds; and if you think that we can do
+business you may just slip it into your pocket as an advance upon your
+salary.'
+
+"'That is very handsome,' said I. 'When should I take over my new
+duties?'
+
+"'Be in Birmingham to-morrow at one,' said he. 'I have a note in my
+pocket here which you will take to my brother. You will find him at
+126B, Corporation Street, where the temporary offices of the company are
+situated. Of course he must confirm your engagement, but between
+ourselves it will be all right.'
+
+"'Really, I hardly know how to express my gratitude, Mr. Pinner,' said
+I.
+
+"'Not at all, my boy. You have only got your deserts. There are one or
+two small things--mere formalities--which I must arrange with you. You
+have a bit of paper beside you there. Kindly write upon it, "I am
+perfectly willing to act as business manager to the Franco-Midland
+Hardware Company, Limited, at a minimum salary of L500."'
+
+"I did as he asked, and he put the paper in his pocket.
+
+"'There is one other detail,' said he. 'What do you intend to do about
+Mawson's?'
+
+"I had forgotten all about Mawson's in my joy.
+
+"'I'll write and resign,' said I.
+
+"'Precisely what I don't want you to do. I had a row over you with
+Mawson's manager. I had gone up to ask him about you, and he was very
+offensive--accused me of coaxing you away from the service of the firm,
+and that sort of thing. At last I fairly lost my temper. "If you want
+good men you should pay them a good price," said I. "He would rather
+have our small price than your big one," said he. "I'll lay you a
+fiver," said I, "that when he has my offer you will never so much as
+hear from him again." "Done!" said he. "We picked him out of the gutter,
+and he won't leave us so easily." Those were his very words.'
+
+"'The impudent scoundrel!' I cried. 'I've never so much as seen him in
+my life. Why should I consider him in any way? I shall certainly not
+write if you would rather that I didn't.'
+
+"'Good! That's a promise!' said he, rising from his chair. 'Well, I am
+delighted to have got so good a man for my brother. Here is your
+advance of a hundred pounds, and here is the letter. Make a note of the
+address, 126B, Corporation Street, and remember that one o'clock
+to-morrow is your appointment. Good-night, and may you have all the
+fortune that you deserve.'
+
+"That's just about all that passed between us as near as I can remember
+it. You can imagine, Dr. Watson, how pleased I was at such an
+extraordinary bit of good fortune. I sat up half the night hugging
+myself over it, and next day I was off to Birmingham in a train that
+would take me in plenty of time for my appointment. I took my things to
+an hotel in New Street, and then I made my way to the address which had
+been given me.
+
+"It was a quarter of an hour before my time, but I thought that would
+make no difference. 126B was a passage between two large shops which led
+to a winding stone stair, from which there were many flats, let as
+offices to companies or professional men. The names of the occupants
+were painted up at the bottom on the wall, but there was no such name as
+the Franco-Midland Hardware Company, Limited. I stood for a few minutes
+with my heart in my boots, wondering whether the whole thing was an
+elaborate hoax or not, when up came a man and addressed me. He was very
+like the chap that I had seen the night before, the same figure and
+voice, but he was clean shaven and his hair was lighter.
+
+[Illustration: "UP CAME A MAN AND ADDRESSED ME."]
+
+"'Are you Mr. Hall Pycroft?' he asked.
+
+"'Yes,' said I.
+
+"'Ah! I was expecting you, but you are a trifle before your time. I had
+a note from my brother this morning, in which he sang your praises very
+loudly.'
+
+"'I was just looking for the offices when you came.'
+
+"'We have not got our name up yet, for we only secured these temporary
+premises last week. Come up with me and we will talk the matter over.'
+
+"I followed him to the top of a very lofty stair, and there right under
+the slates were a couple of empty and dusty little rooms, uncarpeted and
+uncurtained, into which he led me. I had thought of a great office with
+shining tables and rows of clerks such as I was used to, and I daresay I
+stared rather straight at the two deal chairs and one little table,
+which, with a ledger and a waste-paper basket, made up the whole
+furniture.
+
+"'Don't be disheartened, Mr. Pycroft,' said my new acquaintance, seeing
+the length of my face. 'Rome was not built in a day, and we have lots of
+money at our backs, though we don't cut much dash yet in offices. Pray
+sit down and let me have your letter.'
+
+"I gave it to him, and he read it over very carefully.
+
+"'You seem to have made a vast impression upon my brother, Arthur,' said
+he, 'and I know that he is a pretty shrewd judge. He swears by London,
+you know, and I by Birmingham, but this time I shall follow his advice.
+Pray consider yourself definitely engaged.'
+
+"'What are my duties?' I asked.
+
+"'You will eventually manage the great depot in Paris, which will pour a
+flood of English crockery into the shops of one hundred and thirty-four
+agents in France. The purchase will be completed in a week, and
+meanwhile you will remain in Birmingham and make yourself useful.'
+
+"'How?'
+
+"For answer he took a big red book out of a drawer. 'This is a directory
+of Paris,' said he, 'with the trades after the names of the people. I
+want you to take it home with you, and to mark off all the hardware
+sellers with their addresses. It would be of the greatest use to me to
+have them.'
+
+"'Surely, there are classified lists?' I suggested.
+
+"'Not reliable ones. Their system is different to ours. Stick at it and
+let me have the lists by Monday, at twelve. Good-day, Mr. Pycroft; if
+you continue to show zeal and intelligence, you will find the company a
+good master.'
+
+"I went back to the hotel with the big book under my arm, and with very
+conflicting feelings in my breast. On the one hand I was definitely
+engaged, and had a hundred pounds in my pocket. On the other, the look
+of the offices, the absence of name on the wall, and other of the points
+which would strike a business man had left a bad impression as to the
+position of my employers. However, come what might, I had my money, so I
+settled down to my task. All Sunday I was kept hard at work, and yet by
+Monday I had only got as far as H. I went round to my employer, found
+him in the same dismantled kind of room, and was told to keep at it
+until Wednesday, and then come again. On Wednesday it was still
+unfinished, so I hammered away until Friday--that is, yesterday. Then I
+brought it round to Mr. Harry Pinner.
+
+"'Thank you very much,' said he. 'I fear that I underrated the
+difficulty of the task. This list will be of very material assistance to
+me.'
+
+"'It took some time,' said I.
+
+"'And now,' said he, 'I want you to make a list of the furniture shops,
+for they all sell crockery.'
+
+"'Very good.'
+
+"'And you can come up to-morrow evening at seven, and let me know how
+you are getting on. Don't overwork yourself. A couple of hours at Day's
+Music-Hall in the evening would do you no harm after your labours.' He
+laughed as he spoke, and I saw with a thrill that his second tooth upon
+the left-hand side had been very badly stuffed with gold."
+
+Sherlock Holmes rubbed his hands with delight, and I stared in
+astonishment at our client.
+
+"You may well look surprised, Dr. Watson, but it is this way," said he.
+"When I was speaking to the other chap in London at the time that he
+laughed at my not going to Mawson's, I happened to notice that his tooth
+was stuffed in this very identical fashion. The glint of the gold in
+each case caught my eye, you see. When I put that with the voice and
+figure being the same, and only those things altered which might be
+changed by a razor or a wig, I could not doubt that it was the same man.
+Of course, you expect two brothers to be alike, but not that they should
+have the same tooth stuffed in the same way. He bowed me out and I found
+myself in the street, hardly knowing whether I was on my head or my
+heels. Back I went to my hotel, put my head in a basin of cold water,
+and tried to think it out. Why had he sent me from London to Birmingham;
+why had he got there before me; and why had he written a letter from
+himself to himself? It was altogether too much for me, and I could make
+no sense of it. And then suddenly it struck me that what was dark to me
+might be very light to Mr. Sherlock Holmes. I had just time to get up to
+town by the night train, to see him this morning, and to bring you both
+back with me to Birmingham."
+
+There was a pause after the stockbroker's clerk had concluded his
+surprising experience. Then Sherlock Holmes cocked his eye at me,
+leaning back on the cushions with a pleased and yet critical face, like
+a connoisseur who had just taken his first sip of a comet vintage.
+
+"Rather fine, Watson, is it not?" said he. "There are points in it which
+please me. I think you will agree with me that an interview with Mr.
+Arthur Harry Pinner in the temporary offices of the Franco-Midland
+Hardware Company, Limited, would be a rather interesting experience for
+both of us."
+
+"But how can we do it?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, easily enough," said Hall Pycroft, cheerily. "You are two friends
+of mine who are in want of a billet, and what could be more natural than
+that I should bring you both round to the managing director?"
+
+"Quite so! Of course!" said Holmes. "I should like to have a look at the
+gentleman and see if I can make anything of his little game. What
+qualities have you, my friend, which would make your services so
+valuable? or is it possible that----" he began biting his nails and
+staring blankly out of the window, and we hardly drew another word from
+him until we were in New Street.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At seven o'clock that evening we were walking, the three of us, down
+Corporation Street to the company's offices.
+
+"It is of no use our being at all before our time," said our client. "He
+only comes there to see me apparently, for the place is deserted up to
+the very hour he names."
+
+"That is suggestive," remarked Holmes.
+
+"By Jove, I told you so!" cried the clerk. "That's he walking ahead of
+us there."
+
+He pointed to a smallish, blonde, well-dressed man, who was bustling
+along the other side of the road. As we watched him he looked across at
+a boy who was bawling out the latest edition of the evening paper, and,
+running over among the cabs and 'buses, he bought one from him. Then
+clutching it in his hand he vanished through a doorway.
+
+"There he goes!" cried Hall Pycroft. "Those are the company's offices
+into which he has gone. Come with me and I'll fix it up as easily as
+possible."
+
+Following his lead we ascended five stories, until we found ourselves
+outside a half-opened door, at which our client tapped. A voice within
+bade us "Come in," and we entered a bare, unfurnished room, such as Hall
+Pycroft had described. At the single table sat the man whom we had seen
+in the street, with his evening paper spread out in front of him, and as
+he looked up at us it seemed to me that I had never looked upon a face
+which bore such marks of grief, and of something beyond grief--of a
+horror such as comes to few men in a lifetime. His brow glistened with
+perspiration, his cheeks were of the dull dead white of a fish's belly,
+and his eyes were wild and staring. He looked at his clerk as though he
+failed to recognise him, and I could see, by the astonishment depicted
+upon our conductor's face, that this was by no means the usual
+appearance of his employer.
+
+[Illustration: "HE LOOKED UP AT US."]
+
+"You look ill, Mr. Pinner," he exclaimed.
+
+"Yes, I am not very well," answered the other, making obvious efforts to
+pull himself together, and licking his dry lips before he spoke. "Who
+are these gentlemen whom you have brought with you?"
+
+"One is Mr. Harris, of Bermondsey, and the other is Mr. Price, of this
+town," said our clerk, glibly. "They are friends of mine, and gentlemen
+of experience, but they have been out of a place for some little time,
+and they hoped that perhaps you might find an opening for them in the
+company's employment."
+
+"Very possibly! Very possibly!" cried Mr. Pinner, with a ghastly smile.
+"Yes, I have no doubt that we shall be able to do something for you.
+What is your particular line, Mr. Harris?"
+
+"I am an accountant," said Holmes.
+
+"Ah, yes, we shall want something of the sort. And you, Mr. Price?"
+
+"A clerk," said I.
+
+"I have every hope that the company may accommodate you. I will let you
+know about it as soon as we come to any conclusion. And now I beg that
+you will go. For God's sake, leave me to myself!"
+
+These last words were shot out of him, as though the constraint which he
+was evidently setting upon himself had suddenly and utterly burst
+asunder. Holmes and I glanced at each other, and Hall Pycroft took a
+step towards the table.
+
+"You forget, Mr. Pinner, that I am here by appointment to receive some
+directions from you," said he.
+
+"Certainly, Mr. Pycroft, certainly," the other answered in a calmer
+tone. "You may wait here a moment, and there is no reason why your
+friends should not wait with you. I will be entirely at your service in
+three minutes, if I might trespass upon your patience so far." He rose
+with a very courteous air, and bowing to us he passed out through a door
+at the further end of the room, which he closed behind him.
+
+"What now?" whispered Holmes. "Is he giving us the slip?"
+
+"Impossible," answered Pycroft.
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"That door leads into an inner room."
+
+"There is no exit?"
+
+"None."
+
+"Is it furnished?"
+
+"It was empty yesterday."
+
+"Then what on earth can he be doing? There is something which I don't
+understand in this matter. If ever a man was three parts mad with
+terror, that man's name is Pinner. What can have put the shivers on
+him?"
+
+"He suspects that we are detectives," I suggested.
+
+"That's it," said Pycroft.
+
+Holmes shook his head. "He did not turn pale. He _was_ pale when we
+entered the room," said he. "It is just possible that----"
+
+His words were interrupted by a sharp rat-tat from the direction of the
+inner door.
+
+"What the deuce is he knocking at his own door for?" cried the clerk.
+
+Again and much louder came the rat-tat-tat. We all gazed expectantly at
+the closed door. Glancing at Holmes I saw his face turn rigid, and he
+leaned forward in intense excitement. Then suddenly came a low gurgling,
+gargling sound and a brisk drumming upon woodwork. Holmes sprang
+frantically across the room and pushed at the door. It was fastened on
+the inner side. Following his example, we threw ourselves upon it with
+all our weight. One hinge snapped, then the other, and down came the
+door with a crash. Rushing over it we found ourselves in the inner room.
+
+[Illustration: "WE FOUND OURSELVES IN THE INNER ROOM."]
+
+It was empty.
+
+But it was only for a moment that we were at fault. At one corner, the
+corner nearest the room which we had left, there was a second door.
+Holmes sprang to it and pulled it open. A coat and waistcoat were lying
+on the floor, and from a hook behind the door, with his own braces round
+his neck, was hanging the managing director of the Franco-Midland
+Hardware Company. His knees were drawn up, his head hung at a dreadful
+angle to his body, and the clatter of his heels against the door made
+the noise which had broken in upon our conversation. In an instant I had
+caught him round the waist and held him up, while Holmes and Pycroft
+untied the elastic bands which had disappeared between the livid creases
+of skin. Then we carried him into the other room, where he lay with a
+clay-coloured face, puffing his purple lips in and out with every
+breath--a dreadful wreck of all that he had been but five minutes
+before.
+
+"What do you think of him, Watson?" asked Holmes.
+
+I stooped over him and examined him.
+
+His pulse was feeble and intermittent, but his breathing grew longer,
+and there was a little shivering of his eyelids which showed a thin
+white slit of ball beneath.
+
+"It has been touch and go with him," said I, "but he'll live now. Just
+open that window and hand me the water carafe." I undid his collar,
+poured the cold water over his face, and raised and sank his arms until
+he drew a long natural breath.
+
+"It's only a question of time now," said I, as I turned away from him.
+
+Holmes stood by the table with his hands deep in his trousers pockets
+and his chin upon his breast.
+
+"I suppose we ought to call the police in now," said he; "and yet I
+confess that I like to give them a complete case when they come."
+
+"It's a blessed mystery to me," cried Pycroft, scratching his head.
+"Whatever they wanted to bring me all the way up here for, and then----"
+
+"Pooh! All that is clear enough," said Holmes, impatiently. "It is this
+last sudden move."
+
+"You understand the rest, then?"
+
+"I think that it is fairly obvious. What do you say, Watson?"
+
+I shrugged my shoulders.
+
+"I must confess that I am out of my depths," said I.
+
+"Oh, surely, if you consider the events at first they can only point to
+one conclusion."
+
+"What do you make of them?"
+
+"Well, the whole thing hinges upon two points. The first is the making
+of Pycroft write a declaration by which he entered the service of this
+preposterous company. Do you not see how very suggestive that is?"
+
+"I am afraid I miss the point."
+
+"Well, why did they want him to do it? Not as a business matter, for
+these arrangements are usually verbal, and there was no earthly business
+reason why this should be an exception. Don't you see, my young friend,
+that they were very anxious to obtain a specimen of your handwriting,
+and had no other way of doing it?"
+
+"And why?"
+
+"Quite so. Why? When we answer that, we have made some progress with our
+little problem. Why? There can be only one adequate reason. Someone
+wanted to learn to imitate your writing, and had to procure a specimen
+of it first. And now if we pass on to the second point, we find that
+each throws light upon the other. That point is the request made by
+Pinner that you should not resign your place, but should leave the
+manager of this important business in the full expectation that a Mr.
+Hall Pycroft, whom he had never seen, was about to enter the office upon
+the Monday morning."
+
+"My God!" cried our client, "what a blind beetle I have been!"
+
+"Now you see the point about the handwriting. Suppose that someone
+turned up in your place who wrote a completely different hand from that
+in which you had applied for the vacancy, of course the game would have
+been up. But in the interval the rogue learnt to imitate you, and his
+position was therefore secure, as I presume that nobody in the office
+had ever set eyes upon you?"
+
+"Not a soul," groaned Hall Pycroft.
+
+"Very good. Of course, it was of the utmost importance to prevent you
+from thinking better of it, and also to keep you from coming into
+contact with anyone who might tell you that your double was at work in
+Mawson's office. Therefore they gave you a handsome advance on your
+salary, and ran you off to the Midlands, where they gave you enough work
+to do to prevent your going to London, where you might have burst their
+little game up. That is all plain enough."
+
+"But why should this man pretend to be his own brother?"
+
+"Well, that is pretty clear also. There are evidently only two of them
+in it. The other is personating you at the office. This one acted as
+your engager, and then found that he could not find you an employer
+without admitting a third person into his plot. That he was most
+unwilling to do. He changed his appearance as far as he could, and
+trusted that the likeness, which you could not fail to observe, would be
+put down to a family resemblance. But for the happy chance of the gold
+stuffing your suspicions would probably have never been aroused."
+
+Hall Pycroft shook his clenched hands in the air. "Good Lord!" he cried.
+"While I have been fooled in this way, what has this other Hall Pycroft
+been doing at Mawson's? What should we do, Mr. Holmes? Tell me what to
+do!"
+
+"We must wire to Mawson's."
+
+"They shut at twelve on Saturdays."
+
+"Never mind; there may be some doorkeeper or attendant----"
+
+"Ah, yes; they keep a permanent guard there on account of the value of
+the securities that they hold. I remember hearing it talked of in the
+City."
+
+[Illustration: "PYCROFT SHOOK HIS CLENCHED HANDS IN THE AIR."]
+
+"Very good, we shall wire to him, and see if all is well, and if a clerk
+of your name is working there. That is clear enough, but what is not so
+clear is why at sight of us one of the rogues should instantly walk out
+of the room and hang himself."
+
+"The paper!" croaked a voice behind us. The man was sitting up, blanched
+and ghastly, with returning reason in his eyes, and hands which rubbed
+nervously at the broad red band which still encircled his throat.
+
+"The paper! Of course!" yelled Holmes, in a paroxysm of excitement.
+"Idiot that I was! I thought so much of our visit that the paper never
+entered my head for an instant. To be sure the secret must lie there."
+He flattened it out upon the table, and a cry of triumph burst from his
+lips.
+
+"Look at this, Watson!" he cried. "It is a London paper, an early
+edition of the _Evening Standard_. Here is what we want. Look at the
+headlines--'Crime in the City. Murder at Mawson and Williams'. Gigantic
+Attempted Robbery; Capture of the Criminal.' Here, Watson, we are all
+equally anxious to hear it, so kindly read it aloud to us."
+
+It appeared from its position in the paper to have been the one event of
+importance in town, and the account of it ran in this way:--
+
+"A desperate attempt at robbery, culminating in the death of one man and
+the capture of the criminal, occurred this afternoon in the City. For
+some time back Mawson and Williams, the famous financial house, have
+been the guardians of securities which amount in the aggregate to a sum
+of considerably over a million sterling. So conscious was the manager of
+the responsibility which devolved upon him in consequence of the great
+interests at stake, that safes of the very latest construction have been
+employed, and an armed watchman has been left day and night in the
+building. It appears that last week a new clerk, named Hall Pycroft, was
+engaged by the firm. This person appears to have been none other than
+Beddington, the famous forger and cracksman, who, with his brother, has
+only recently emerged from a five years' spell of penal servitude. By
+some means, which are not yet clear, he succeeded in winning, under a
+false name, this official position in the office, which he utilized in
+order to obtain mouldings of various locks, and a thorough knowledge of
+the position of the strong room and the safes.
+
+"It is customary at Mawson's for the clerks to leave at midday on
+Saturday. Sergeant Tuson, of the City Police, was somewhat surprised
+therefore to see a gentleman with a carpet bag come down the steps at
+twenty minutes past one. His suspicions being aroused, the sergeant
+followed the man, and with the aid of Constable Pollock succeeded, after
+a most desperate resistance, in arresting him. It was at once clear that
+a daring and gigantic robbery had been committed. Nearly a hundred
+thousand pounds worth of American railway bonds, with a large amount of
+scrip in other mines and companies, were discovered in the bag. On
+examining the premises the body of the unfortunate watchman was found
+doubled up and thrust into the largest of the safes, where it would not
+have been discovered until Monday morning had it not been for the prompt
+action of Sergeant Tuson. The man's skull had been shattered by a blow
+from a poker, delivered from behind. There could be no doubt that
+Beddington had obtained entrance by pretending that he had left
+something behind him, and having murdered the watchman, rapidly rifled
+the large safe, and then made off with his booty. His brother, who
+usually works with him, has not appeared in this job, so far as can at
+present be ascertained, although the police are making energetic
+inquiries as to his whereabouts."
+
+[Illustration: "GLANCING AT THE HAGGARD FIGURE."]
+
+"Well, we may save the police some little trouble in that direction,"
+said Holmes, glancing at the haggard figure huddled up by the window.
+"Human nature is a strange mixture, Watson. You see that even a villain
+and a murderer can inspire such affection that his brother turns to
+suicide when he learns that his neck is forfeited. However, we have no
+choice as to our action. The doctor and I will remain on guard, Mr.
+Pycroft, if you will have the kindness to step out for the police."
+
+
+
+
+_Beauties._
+
+[Illustration: FROM PHOTOGRAPHS BY MESSRS. ELLIOTT AND FRY, BAKER
+STREET, W.]
+
+[Illustration: Miss Webster
+
+Madame Shirmer-Mapleson
+
+Madame Sigrid Arnoldson]
+
+[Illustration: Miss ALICE LETHBRIDGE
+
+Miss Flo Henderson
+
+Mdlle. Del Torre]
+
+
+
+
+_Hands._
+
+BY BECKLES WILLSON.
+
+II.
+
+
+[Illustration: CASTING A HAND FROM LIFE.
+
+(_Studio of Mr. Onslow Ford, A.R.A._)]
+
+The sculptor's practice of casting in plaster the hands of his client is
+of comparatively recent growth. The artist of the old school--and he is
+followed in this by many of the new--disdained so mechanical a means to
+fidelity. Very few, indeed, among the British painters and sculptors of
+the past will be found who took the pains to see that the hands or even
+the figures of their counterfeit presentments on canvas or in marble
+tallied with the originals. Sir Joshua Reynolds, as we know, would have
+regarded this as the essence of finical vulgarity.
+
+The principal drawback in making casts from life is to be found in the
+discomfort, not to speak of the actual torment, it often causes the
+sitter by the adhesion of the plaster to the hairy growth of the skin.
+Various methods are resorted to with a view to obviate this, and in some
+cases successfully.
+
+The hands of Thomas Carlyle--stubborn, combative, mystical--which appear
+in the present paper, will amply repay the closest scrutiny. These hands
+are unwontedly realistic, and emphasize their distinctiveness in every
+vein and wrinkle. They appear to be themselves endowed with each of
+those various qualities which caused their possessor to be regarded as
+one of the most puissant figures in the century's literature. The hand
+is not one, to use Charles Lamb's expressive phrase, to be looked at
+_standing on one leg_. It deserves a keener examination.
+
+[Illustration: THOMAS CARLYLE'S HANDS.]
+
+Mention has been made of the hand of a distinguished prelate, Cardinal
+Manning. It will not be out of place to compare it with the hands of
+the late Archbishop of Canterbury, which were cast posthumously.
+Scarcely anything could be more antagonistic. The nervous personality of
+Manning is wanting here. The hands of the Archbishop seem more to belong
+to the order of the benevolent Bishop Myriel than to that of the
+enthusiast and ascetic.
+
+[Illustration: THE LATE ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY'S HANDS.]
+
+[Illustration: LORD PALMERSTON'S HAND.]
+
+Plenty of opportunity to study the hands of statesmen is afforded in
+those of Lord Palmerston, Count Cavour, Sir Stratford Canning, and Lord
+Melbourne. The fallacy of attaching special qualities to any distinctive
+trait in the hand of an eminent person is most readily discernible here.
+One should avoid _a posteriori_ reasoning. It would be the same for a
+physiognomist to argue a man a statesman from a facial resemblance to
+Mr. Gladstone, or that he is fit to write tragedies because he owns the
+exact facial proportions of Sardou.
+
+[Illustration: COUNT CAVOUR'S HANDS.]
+
+[Illustration: SIR STRATFORD CANNING'S HANDS.]
+
+Among these the hand of Lord Palmerston will stand forth most
+prominently to the reader. Its characteristics are, on the whole,
+sufficiently obvious, in the appended cast, to be thought accentuated.
+It might not unprofitably be noted in connection with those of Stratford
+Canning, Viscount de Redcliffe (for fifty years British Ambassador in
+India), whose statue by Boehm, with Tennyson's famous epitaph:
+
+    Thou third great Canning, stand among our best
+      And noblest, now thy long day's work hath ceased,
+    Here, silent in our Minster of the West,
+      Who wert the voice of England in the East!
+
+is in a nave of the Abbey. With these should be joined the hand of
+Viscount Melbourne, the predecessor of Sir Robert Peel in the
+Premiership, and the great statesman after whom the city of Melbourne
+was named, in order to range this British galaxy against the hands of
+the Italian patriots, Count Cavour and Joseph Garibaldi, whose labours
+resulted in that master stroke of latter-day politics, the unification
+of Italy. Those of the former were cast separately in different
+positions, it being the intention of the sculptor for the right hand to
+rest lightly upon a column and the left to grasp a roll of parchment.
+Garibaldi's hand may be described as both virile and nervous.
+
+[Illustration: LORD MELBOURNE'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: HAND OF JOHN BURNS, M.P.]
+
+[Illustration: HAND OF JOSEPH ARCH, M.P.]
+
+[Illustration: GARIBALDI'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: SIR E. BOEHM'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: HAND OF JOHN JACKSON, R.A.]
+
+Another type of hand is exemplified in the hands of Messrs. Joseph Arch
+and John Burns. Both of these belong to self-made men, accustomed to
+hard manual labour from childhood. Their powerful ruggedness is
+admirably set off by the exquisite symmetry and feminine proportions of
+the hand of John Jackson a Royal Academician and great painter of his
+time. For symmetry, combined with grace, this hand is not surpassed.
+
+The hand of Sir Edgar Boehm was cast by his assistant, Professor
+Lanteri, for the former's statue of Sir Francis Drake. It will be
+observed that the fingers grasp a pair of compasses, the original of
+those which appear in the bronze at Plymouth.
+
+[Illustration: LADY BLESSINGTON'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: MRS. CARLYLE'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: MRS. THORNYCROFT'S HAND.]
+
+Reverting to the ladies again, interest will, no doubt, centre upon the
+hand of the celebrated Lady Blessington, accounted the wittiest hostess
+of her day; and not least attractive will appear Mrs. Carlyle's and
+those of Mrs. Thornycroft and the celebrated Madame Tussaud. The wife of
+the Chelsea sage was herself, as is known, an authoress of no mean
+repute.
+
+A comparison of the hand of Mr. Bancroft with that of Mr. Irving, given
+last month, will prove interesting, if not instructive.
+
+[Illustration: MME. TUSSAUD'S HAND.]
+
+It has been said that the hands of Carlyle are characteristic; that they
+possess, with those of Wilkie Collins, the merit of being precisely the
+sort of hands one would expect to see so labelled. We now present a
+third candidate for this merit of candour in casts of the hands of the
+notorious Arthur Orton, better known under the sobriquet of the
+Claimant. They are pulseless, chubby, oblique: yet they are remarkable.
+In scrutinizing them, it is difficult not to feel that one looks upon
+hands very remote indeed from the ordinary.
+
+[Illustration: MR. BANCROFT'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: HANDS OF THE TICHBORNE CLAIMANT.]
+
+Next we look upon the hand of a giant even superior to Anak, in
+Loushkin, the Russian. But physically great as was the Muscovite, it is
+to be doubted if he really attained the world-wide celebrity of the
+little American, Charles Stratton (otherwise known as "Tom Thumb"),
+whose extremity serves as a foil to his rival for exhibition honours.
+
+Another Boehm relic requires some explanation. Every visitor to the
+Metropolis has doubtless seen and admired the heroic equestrian statue
+of the Duke of Wellington, opposite Apsley House. They may even have
+noticed the right hand, which is represented as lightly holding the rein
+of the animal. The appended was cast from the original model in clay of
+the hand of the Duke, no cast direct from life ever having been
+executed.
+
+[Illustration: THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON'S HAND.]
+
+It is sufficient to say that the subjoined hand and arm of Lady
+Cardigan, wife of the noted Crimean warrior, was one greatly admired by
+Sir Edgar, in whose studio it hung for many years. In like manner will
+the hand of Lady Richard Grosvenor be found the possessor of many
+beautiful and interesting traits.
+
+[Illustration: THE HANDS OF "TOM THUMB" AND LOUSHKIN, THE RUSSIAN
+GIANT.]
+
+[Illustration: LADY CARDIGAN'S HAND.]
+
+A member not altogether dissimilar to that of the musician Liszt is the
+hand of Carl von Angeli, Court painter to Her Majesty, and like that
+also in setting at naught the conclusions too often arrived at by the
+chirognomist. For there is here breadth without symmetry, and an utter
+absence of the poise which we look for in the ideal hand of the artist.
+It is instructive to compare it to the hand of the painter, John
+Jackson.
+
+[Illustration: LADY RICHARD GROSVENOR'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: CARL ANGELI'S HAND.]
+
+Observe the massive, masculine fingers and disproportionately small
+finger-nails in the hands of Professor Weekes, the sculptor. There is
+scarcely any perceptible tapering at the third joint, and the fingers
+all exhibit very little prominence of knuckle or contour. It is anything
+but an artistic hand, and yet its owner was a man of the keenest
+artistic perceptions.
+
+In Frederick Baring's (Lord Ashburton) we find the thick-set fingers,
+and what the chirognomist calls the "lack of manual repose," of the
+great financier. But as his lordship was statesman with a talent for
+debate as well as man of commerce, it will not unlikely be found that
+the hand presented combines the both temperaments.
+
+[Illustration: PROFESSOR WEEKES' HANDS.]
+
+[Illustration: LORD ASHBURTON'S HAND.]
+
+I have been enabled, through the kindness of Mr. J. T. Tussaud, to
+embellish the present collection by an ancient cast of the hand of the
+Comte de Lorge, a famous prisoner in the Bastille. This cast was taken,
+together with a death mask, after death, by the great-grandmother of the
+sculptor, to whom both relics have descended.
+
+The Queen's hands, which appeared in the last issue of this Magazine,
+were cast by John Francis, a famous sculptor of the day. Mr. Hamo
+Thorneycroft, R.A., writes me to say that "While the moulds were being
+made Her Majesty removed all the rings from her fingers _except_ the
+wedding ring. This she was most anxious should not come off, and was in
+considerable fear lest the moulding process might remove it."
+
+[Illustration: COMTE DE LORGE'S HAND.]
+
+
+[_The original drawings of the illustrations in this Magazine are always
+on view, and on sale, in the Art Gallery at these offices, which is open
+to the public without charge._]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: ROSITA]
+
+FROM THE FRENCH OF PITRE CHEVALIER.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+It was harvest day at a house in the little village of Panola, in
+Castile, on the 25th of August, 1838. The great sheaves of corn had been
+borne, amidst universal rejoicing, to their resting-place in the
+granary. All the village inhabitants had shared in this pleasant task,
+and now, following an ancient custom, they had erected a trophy composed
+of a few last sheaves of corn, round which the young girls and men began
+to dance gaily, to the sound of guitars and castanets.
+
+Within the house, in a room which overlooked this charming scene, were
+two men.
+
+The first, seated at a table, was an old man over sixty, but enfeebled
+rather by cares than by age. His venerable head, crowned with white
+hair, drooped upon his breast with patriarchal dignity. The old man, who
+had been a soldier in the Spanish army, was Don Pedro de la Sarga, a
+Castilian as noble as he was poor. His companion was his son, Don
+Stephano, a young man of twenty, considered the most accomplished man in
+Panola. He was handsome; his warm, brown skin, his large, black eyes,
+the regular features, which wore that expression of national pride which
+distinguishes a Castilian from any other race, and his raven-black hair
+were eminently the Spanish type in all its grace and haughtiness. The
+young man wore the Spanish holiday costume, the richness of which has
+made travellers exclaim, more than once, that no European prince is
+clothed like a simple peasant of Castile. Stephano had on a short vest
+of black cloth, lined with yellow silk, ornamented with fringes and
+bunches of ribbons; an embroidered shirt with open collar revealing a
+waistcoat with gilt buttons, knee-breeches of black silk confined at the
+knees by bunches of ribbons, shoes and gaiters of fine brown leather,
+while a black felt hat with drooping plume completed his costume.
+
+Stephano's gloomy face contrasted with his gay attire. He leant against
+the open window, carelessly holding in his hand a bouquet of faded
+jasmine, whilst he gazed with melancholy eyes upon the festive scene
+before him, and only by a shake of the head and a sad smile replied to
+the light badinage of the dancers as they passed the window. But now and
+then his eyes lighted up, and he sighed deeply as a certain dancer,
+prettier than the rest, approached him.
+
+"How pretty she is!" he murmured, as he followed her retreating form.
+
+"Stephano!" called out the old man, who had been watching his son for
+some time.
+
+"How gracefully she dances," continued the handsome dreamer, wrapt in
+his thoughts.
+
+"Stephano!" repeated the old man.
+
+"Yes, father," cried Stephano, with a start, and coming forward. "Do you
+wish to speak to me?"
+
+"From your mysterious air and endless sighs these last few days,
+Stephano, I conclude that you are in love," said his father.
+
+"In love!" stammered the young man. "You think I am in love?"
+
+"I do not think, my son--I am sure of it; and I have only one reproach
+to make to you, and that is that you have not made me a confidant of
+your secret before."
+
+"You shall know all, father," said Stephano, drawing a chair close to
+Don Pedro.
+
+"For the last month," he continued, "I have had in my heart a love which
+nothing can subdue, and the object of my passion is a young girl here, a
+glance from whose eyes is worth more to me than all the world besides;
+but she shuns my love, and on every occasion strives to avoid me. She
+hardly permits me to speak to her for fear that the passion she reads in
+my eyes will break into words."
+
+"Bah!" said the old man, merrily; "it is very likely that she shuns you
+for the reason of your not opening your mouth; you scare the young girl
+with your morose airs."
+
+"Oh, if that were only true," sighed the disconsolate swain.
+
+"Now," said the old man, "there only remains for me to know the name of
+my future daughter-in-law."
+
+The young man was about to pronounce the name which already trembled on
+his lips when a sudden clamour interrupted the most interesting portion
+of this conversation. The peasants, followed by the partners, were
+rushing towards the house, and in the twinkling of an eye the room was
+filled with the animated and noisy throng. The new-comers wore rich
+costumes, more or less copies of Stephano's; some carried guitars,
+others castanets, while most of them leaned upon tall peeled rods,
+forked at the top, and ornamented with ribbons of all colours; each
+carried on the left side of his vest a bouquet similar to that of
+Stephano. The young girls in their silken bodices, short skirts, red
+stockings and mantillas, rattled their castanets as they entered with
+their partners. The joyous crowd surrounded Don Pedro, whilst cries of
+"Rosita! Rosita!" resounded from all sides.
+
+"Well, well, my children, what is it you want?" demanded the village
+Nestor of his clamorous audience.
+
+"We want Mlle. Rosita," they repeated.
+
+"What, my niece? But is she not with you? I thought it was she whom you
+were leading just now round the corn sheaves."
+
+"That is true," replied one of the foremost of the crowd; "everything
+went smoothly until we wished her to take part in our usual ceremony of
+'The Maiden's Choice.'"
+
+"Did you explain to her," asked the old man, "what is the ceremony?"
+
+"Yes, we told her all that was necessary: that it is an old custom in
+Panola on harvest day, after having escorted the daughter of the house
+round the last sheaves of corn, for all her admirers in the village to
+present her, each in his turn, with a bouquet; that she must then choose
+the one she loves amongst them by retaining his bouquet, whilst the
+others are rejected. She answered us by saying that she had only been in
+Panola a few months, and was therefore not forced to adopt our customs,
+and leaving us with these words she fled from us and escaped through the
+little granary door."
+
+"The little shrew!" Don Pedro exclaimed, who, like an amiable old man,
+was always on the side of the young folk. "But my friends," he added,
+"you are but poor Lotharios to be flouted by a young girl; you must
+follow her and bring her back."
+
+"That is just what we have done; but one cannot catch a bird without
+also having wings. She seemed to fly as we followed her, and on reaching
+the granary she entered and slammed the door in our faces; so we have
+come, as a last resource, to you, Don Pedro, to ask her to comply with
+our wishes."
+
+"You are right," replied the old man, with all the gravity of a judge,
+"you must be satisfied at once"; and he looked round for Don Stephano,
+who was standing more moody than ever behind a giggling group of young
+peasants.
+
+"My son," he said, "go and bring your cousin here. If she refuses, tell
+her that I particularly wish her to come."
+
+"I will go, father," said Stephano, after a second's hesitation; and he
+went out.
+
+There was a slight pause; then shouts and acclamations and rattling of
+castanets burst forth, as Rosita, with downcast eyes, entered the room,
+led by Stephano. Well might they welcome with fervour such a charming
+creature. Rosita was just eighteen. She wore upon her golden brown hair
+a black lace mantilla, which contrasted with her creamy complexion and
+the liquid depth of her large brown eyes. A brown velvet bodice showed
+off to perfection her slight yet rounded figure; and her silk skirts
+just revealed her pretty ankles and small feet in their silk stockings
+and neat shoes.
+
+Rosita was a native of Navarre. She had quitted Tafalla, her native
+village, on the death of her father and mother, who had been victims of
+the Civil War which at this time desolated the country, and had been
+conducted not without peril to her uncle's house at Panola, in which she
+had since taken up her abode.
+
+"Rosita," said Don Pedro to his niece, taking her hand, "I have made
+your apologies to your friends for the trick you have played them. It is
+your turn now to atone for your misdeed, by submitting to an old custom.
+Among the brave Castilians who surround you there are many suitors for
+your hand. There must be one among them whom you secretly favour. Your
+choice is entirely free, and even the favoured one after the ceremony
+will then have only the right to please you and to merit your hand."
+
+"But, uncle----" faltered the young girl.
+
+"I will take no denial, my dear," interrupted the old man.
+
+Rosita strove in vain to protest, but her imperturbable uncle would not
+listen, and gave a sign to the peasants to begin the ceremony, in which
+he seemed to take as keen an interest as they did themselves. Thereupon
+the majority of the young men, darting furious glances of jealousy at
+one another, prepared for the contest. Rosita, at her uncle's side,
+stood at one end of the room. At her right and left were grouped the
+young peasant girls, admiring without envy the queen of the _fete_, and
+forming her court. Stephano stood behind with dejected mien. Those with
+guitars touched their instruments lightly now and then, and upon this
+scene, worthy of the pencil of Leopold Roberts, the sun, now setting at
+the horizon, cast a calm and solemn light.
+
+The first peasant who came forward was a tall young man, with a ruddy
+complexion.
+
+"My name is Geronimo Caldaroz, and I am twenty-five. It has been the
+talk of the village why I did not marry, and it has been said it was
+because I had never yet seen a maiden beautiful enough to please me. But
+now I have found her; it is you, Rosita. Will you accept my bouquet?" He
+presented his bouquet to the young girl, who blushed as she received it,
+and then let it fall.
+
+"Refused! Refused!" whispered the spectators, whilst the young man
+disappeared into the crowd, and a second one took his place. But the
+same thing occurred, and with the same result. Soon the jasmine bouquets
+covered the ground round the young girl's feet. The rejected suitors
+multiplied so fast that they could no longer hide their discomfiture
+amongst the others. Restless and smiling, Don Pedro wondered why his
+niece was so severe, and the remaining suitors seemed to hesitate
+whether to advance into the lists or not. Then the last three timidly
+advanced one by one toward Rosita. The two first were not even heard to
+the end of their speech, and then all eyes were fixed with interest upon
+the last. Rosita let him finish his discourse, took his bouquet, which
+she scrutinized demurely, and then uttering a deep sigh let it fall upon
+the amorous trophy piled at her feet.
+
+A murmur rose amongst the stupefied villagers. Don Pedro approached his
+niece.
+
+"Well, my child," he said, "have you thought of what you have done?"
+
+"Yes, uncle," Rosita replied. "Did you not tell me yourself that I was
+perfectly free?"
+
+"Free to choose, without doubt; but not to send all your suitors away."
+
+Rosita cast down her eyes and made no reply.
+
+"Pardon me, father, but there still remains one," said Stephano,
+breaking the silence.
+
+"Where is he?" everyone asked at once.
+
+"Here he is."
+
+Rosita trembled so violently that she was compelled to lean for support
+upon her uncle's arm, and Don Pedro, more astonished than anyone, rushed
+towards his son.
+
+"What, Stephano?" he said joyfully. "It is your cousin whom----"
+
+"Yes, father," replied the young man. "It is she whom I love."
+
+In the midst of such general interest Stephano, pale with emotion,
+advanced towards his cousin.
+
+"Rosita, I love you," he said, simply. "Will you keep this bouquet which
+I offer to you?"
+
+The young man pronounced these words with a voice so sweet and
+expressive, and the gesture with which he offered the symbolic flower
+was so imploring and passionate, that a sympathetic thrill ran through
+the spectators, and tears bedimmed Don Pedro's eyes.
+
+[Illustration: "'ROSITA, I LOVE YOU,' HE SAID."]
+
+Rosita, not less pale than her cousin, took the bouquet with a trembling
+hand, gazed upon it tenderly, then made a movement as if to throw it
+down, paused, and then at last, with head turned aside, let it fall.
+
+"Santa Maria! He also!" cried the crowd, mournfully.
+
+"Do not condemn me without hearing my justification," cried Rosita,
+turning to Don Pedro.
+
+"Your justification?" repeated Stephano, with relief.
+
+"Uncle," she said, after a pause, "there is a secret which I may have
+been wrong in concealing from you hitherto, but I must confide it to you
+alone."
+
+"To me!" cried the astonished old man.
+
+"I will come with you at once," and, seizing Rosita's hand, he led her
+away, making signs to the peasants as he did so to disperse.
+
+Stephano strolled out to breathe the air upon the hills, whose shadows
+were beginning to slope down into the valley. The sky was lighted only
+by the afterglow of the red, sunken sun; the evening breeze carried
+along in the warm air the perfume of the jasmine flowers and orange
+groves in bloom, and no sound was heard but the music of guitars and
+castanets, mingled sometimes with the faint tinkle of sheep bells.
+
+When Stephano re-entered he found his father and cousin in the lower
+hall. Rosita, on perceiving him, made a pretext for rising, and
+hurriedly left the room. Don Pedro and his son were left alone.
+
+"One word, father," said Stephano. "Does Rosita love me, and will she
+also become my wife?"
+
+"You must forget Rosita," replied the old man. "You must tear from your
+heart even the remembrance of your love."
+
+The young man abandoned himself to despair.
+
+"I shall never forget her," he said, passionately. "My love for Rosita
+will only cease with my life."
+
+And he rushed from the room, leaving the old man wondering.
+
+
+II.
+
+For some weeks the inmates of Don Pedro's house were forced to remain
+prisoners, for rebel soldiers filled the neighbouring villages, and
+troops of guerillas were being mustered to put them to flight. It was a
+morning, early in September, just after the sun had peered above the
+horizon. A fine rain had fallen during the night, and the drops which
+rested on the foliage sparkled like myriads of diamonds. The streets
+were as yet deserted; some muleteers alone passed along them at
+intervals. Don Pedro's house was the only one astir.
+
+Don Stephano, according to his custom, had risen with the dawn, and was
+now alone in the lower hall, standing opposite the window which
+overlooked the high road. He was occupied in fixing an iron lance upon a
+wooden rod, at which he gazed abstractedly.
+
+The sound of a voice filling the air with song attracted his attention;
+it was singing the Moorish romance of "Adlemar and Adalifa," and to the
+quick perception of a Spanish ear was marked with a slight Ultramontaine
+accent, which Stephano discerned like a true Castilian. Without moving
+he listened to the song which awoke the echoes of the valley. The
+amorous words recalled to Stephano's mind the thought of Rosita, and he
+sighed deeply. Then he listened anew to the voice, which grew nearer and
+nearer, and in which, in spite of its strange accent, he seemed to hear
+an understrain of singular emotion. His conjectures were not long,
+however. A man enveloped in a large mantle peered in at the open window,
+and after throwing a rapid glance behind him leapt into the room.
+Stephano recoiled at the sight of such a strange visitor, and felt
+tempted to seize the man, whom he took at first for a robber. Then a
+troop of horsemen dashed past the house. The stranger gave a sigh of
+relief. Then for the first time he caught sight of Stephano.
+
+"I must be careful," the soldier muttered, as he drew his cloak more
+carefully round him. "This Spaniard does not look over benevolent."
+
+"Who can this man be?" thought Stephano, as he instinctively put his
+hand on his pistols; but on seeing the stranger advance towards him with
+a pleasant smile, he paused.
+
+"Noble Castilian," said the stranger, "are you a man to oblige an enemy
+in peril, and who for a quarter of an hour wishes you no more harm than
+if you were his brother?"
+
+Before replying, Stephano scrutinized his questioner. He saw before him
+a man of about twenty-eight, with a frank face and light hair and
+moustache. His accent, and the blue pantaloons which appeared under the
+brown mantle, proclaimed him a Frenchman.
+
+[Illustration: "THE STRANGER."]
+
+"No unarmed man is my enemy," replied Stephano, "and from the moment my
+roof was over your head you became my guest."
+
+"Shake hands on it! You are a fine fellow," cried the soldier, holding
+out his hand. At the same time he drew aside his mantle, and Stephano
+recognised the uniform worn by the French volunteers of Don Carlos's
+army. "Now, if you have a drop of anything to drink handy, I will tell
+you in a few words what has brought me here."
+
+Stephano opened the sideboard, and brought out a bottle and glasses. The
+soldier wiped his moustache as he began.
+
+"You see before you," he said, with frank abruptness, "Charles
+Dulaurier, a soldier by birth and profession, lieutenant in the
+Grenadiers of His Majesty Charles V.--pardon me, Don Carlos. Being
+stationed some few miles from here, I asked for leave of absence this
+morning to join some troops which (pardon me) are going to make a raid
+upon this very village this morning. But, thanks to my foolhardiness in
+starting off alone, I soon found myself in the hands of guerillas. I
+escaped. They pursued me. But I, though alone in a strange country and
+unarmed, led them a nice dance for half an hour. I was just about to
+fall again into their hands when I came in sight of this house. I duped
+them by my ruse of pitching my voice in such a manner as to lead them to
+think I was beyond the village, whilst I at the same time took refuge
+here. To conclude, my worthy fellow, no doubt the guerillas are not
+blind, and not finding any trace of me upon the route, will return to
+Panola. Consequently, if you are a host to my liking you will----"
+
+"Conceal you," said Stephano, quickly. "You are right!" and he glanced
+round with uneasiness. The lieutenant struck him on the shoulder. "One
+minute," he said; "the guerillas cannot reappear for half an hour. This
+little expedition, as you may imagine, was not my only motive for coming
+to Panola, and I must again abuse your patience in asking you some
+questions upon a certain subject which is the motive of my expedition."
+
+"Go on," replied Stephano, with resignation.
+
+"I came here to look for a young girl," said the Frenchman, twisting his
+moustache, "and as, perhaps, you will be so good as to give me some
+information on this point, it would be better for you to know the story.
+Last year my regiment, after a vigorous resistance, entered a village in
+Navarre."
+
+"A village in Navarre?" repeated Stephano, and his brow darkened.
+
+"One house had been so well defended, indeed, that it was found
+necessary to surround it, and our infuriated soldiers, drunk with
+carnage, determined to massacre everyone within. I luckily surprised
+them as they drew their sabres upon two poor old creatures and their
+young daughter. I threw myself between the victims and their butchers;
+the wretches turned upon me and I fell wounded by a bayonet thrust, but
+they were saved. The kind people who owed me their lives bore me to
+their house, and gave me every care. The young girl watched at my
+bedside for more than a fortnight. Briefly the beauty, the tenderness of
+the little girl, won my heart. Losing no time, I declared my passion.
+She whispered, blushing, that I might speak to her parents. As soon as I
+was well enough to walk, I hastened to the worthy old man, who, after
+the shock he had received, became mortally ill, and felt his end
+approach. I had no sooner asked him for his daughter's hand than he
+exclaimed, 'God be praised! I shall not now die without having
+recompensed our deliverer.' At the same time he took the young girl's
+hand and mine, and, after making us exchange rings, clasped them
+together. Then he stretched forth his trembling hands above our heads to
+bless us, whilst on our knees by the bedside we swore eternal fidelity
+to each other. Three days after the good man died, and the same day my
+regiment left for Castile. Seven months passed without my hearing any
+news from my betrothed, and it was only by chance I learned that on her
+mother's death she had quitted Navarre to take up her abode in her
+uncle's house at Panola.
+
+"But what is the matter?" said the lieutenant, as Stephano rose
+hurriedly.
+
+"I know enough," replied the young man in a hollow voice. "The village
+was Tafalla, and the young girl's name is Rosita."
+
+"But what is there in that?" cried the lieutenant, who understood
+nothing of Stephano's emotion. "You know Rosita? She is here? You are
+silent. Heavens! Is she dead--or married?"
+
+"No, no," replied Stephano, with an effort. "Rosita is here. No doubt
+she loves you and watches for your return with impatience."
+
+"Where, then, shall I find my betrothed?"
+
+Stephano was about to reply to this question when the tramp of horses
+was heard. It was the troop returning.
+
+"Softly!" whispered Dulaurier as he crept towards the window. "Yes,
+these are my friends. Where will you hide me?"
+
+Stephano regarded him with a savage gleam in his eyes and muttered to
+himself, "This man comes here to blast my happiness, and I must protect
+his life at the peril of my own."
+
+"What am I to do?" repeated Dulaurier.
+
+"Take this dagger," said Stephano, "put on your mantle and follow me."
+He unfastened a little door which opened upon a staircase which led into
+the garden, and descended, followed by Dulaurier. They stole along
+behind a thick hedge of hawthorn until they came to the trees of a
+little orchard, from which rose the roof of a ruined summer-house. On
+reaching this spot Stephano installed the lieutenant so that he could
+watch both the road and the garden; then having arranged upon the course
+they should take, Stephano hastened back to the house.
+
+[Illustration: "THEY STOLE ALONG."]
+
+Don Pedro was in the lower hall, alone, when his son entered.
+
+"I have a request to make to you," said the young man, clasping his
+father's hand convulsively. "I want you to let me start at once to join
+my brothers and to fight for Spain."
+
+"Can you then leave your cousin?" said Don Pedro, sadly. "And you do not
+know----"
+
+"I know more than you, father, more than Rosita herself about this
+affair," interrupted Stephano. "Is not Rosita betrothed to a French
+volunteer in Don Carlos's army, and is this not the secret she confided
+to you on harvest day?"
+
+"It is true. But how have you discovered it?"
+
+"From a man flying from the pursuit of guerillas; no other than the man
+himself, Lieutenant Charles Dulaurier!"
+
+"Is it possible?" exclaimed the stupefied old man.
+
+"You see, father, that it is absolutely necessary for me to go," cried
+Stephano. "I cannot wait until Rosita and Dulaurier are united. Their
+happiness would be more than I could bear, and I have thought of a plan
+by which the lieutenant can be saved without putting off my departure. I
+shall join the troop of guerillas who are seeking Dulaurier in the
+village. Seeing me become one of themselves their suspicions will be
+lulled, and I shall save my rival by departing with his enemies."
+
+"You are right," replied his father, after a painful pause, but he could
+not utter a word more.
+
+The young man proceeded to take down from the wall his pistols and his
+gun; he placed the former in his belt and the latter on his shoulder,
+took his hat and stepped forward to bid his father farewell. But as he
+threw himself into the arms of the weeping old man, the door opened and
+Rosita entered.
+
+The young girl glanced quickly from one to the other, and then her eyes
+remained fixed on Stephano.
+
+"What are you going to do?" she asked, examining his equipment.
+
+"I am going away," replied Stephano. "Farewell, Rosita, be happy.
+Farewell, father," he added, embracing Don Pedro.
+
+"He is going," said Rosita, her eyes dim with tears, "without one
+friendly smile, without one clasp of his hand. Oh! Stephano," she
+exclaimed, springing forward. "You cannot part from me thus!"
+
+"You are keeping me!" said the bewildered young man.
+
+"Yes," she replied, seizing his hand. "Stay, Stephano, do not go. I
+implore you!"
+
+"Remain!" cried the young man, passionately. "Remain to see you in the
+arms of another? Never!"
+
+As he moved towards the door, Rosita sprang towards him with
+outstretched arms. "And what if it is you whom I love, Stephano? What if
+I have never loved anyone but you?" A thunderbolt would hardly have
+produced more effect than did these words.
+
+"You love me?" he repeated, approaching his cousin. "Rosita, for mercy's
+sake, repeat those words once more, so that I may be sure of having
+heard aright."
+
+"Yes, I love you," repeated the young girl, tenderly; "no one but you!
+Will you stay now?"
+
+"For ever, if you wish it!" cried the enraptured youth, throwing down
+his gun and pistols. "Look at me, Rosita, that I may read in your eyes
+that word which gives me life, and which I have waited for so long. How
+blind and foolish I have been! But that will be all right now, will it
+not, my beloved?" As he spoke he embraced her passionately. By both of
+them the world was forgotten.
+
+Through the open window came the clink of spurs and rattling of sabres.
+This sound, to which Stephano and Rosita were deaf, struck on the ear of
+Don Pedro and paralyzed him with terror.
+
+"Stephano!" he cried at last. "Remember Lieutenant Dulaurier!"
+
+[Illustration: "REMEMBER LIEUTENANT DULAURIER!"]
+
+"Ah!" groaned Stephano, rudely torn from his ecstasy of happiness; and
+he fixed his gaze upon his cousin.
+
+The girl had not even heard Don Pedro.
+
+"Rosita," said her lover, "you say you love me, but you have a
+_fiance!_"
+
+"Dulaurier!" cried the startled girl. "Great Heaven! pardon me, I had
+forgotten."
+
+"If this man," continued Stephano, "came here to claim your promise, you
+would reply, would you not, that friendship alone, not love, had drawn
+you towards him, and that your hand, promised when you hardly knew what
+you did, would now be given without your heart?"
+
+"Yes, that is what I should answer; but he is not likely to come here,
+Stephano."
+
+"And what if he were here already?" asked an impressive voice.
+
+Don Pedro at the same time stepped forward between the young people, and
+before the severe face of the Spaniard their eyes drooped.
+
+"Father!" faltered the young man.
+
+"Silence!" cried the old man. "Your duty is clear. What if Dulaurier
+were in the house, Rosita--what if, more faithful than you, he had come
+to claim his promise, made at the death-bed of your father? I ask you
+what you would answer."
+
+Trembling and submissive as a criminal before his judge, the young girl
+turned her eyes from Stephano to Don Pedro.
+
+"I should reply to Lieutenant Dulaurier that, before God and man, I am
+his betrothed bride, and that while he lives no other can be my
+husband."
+
+"Come then, my child, prepare to receive your _fiance_," and Don Pedro
+held out his hand to his niece to lead her away.
+
+"You are destroying my happiness!" cried Stephano.
+
+"But in return I give you back your honour," replied Don Pedro. "Look
+after the lieutenant, for here come the guerillas!" and he went out.
+
+"What a dream, and what an awakening!" murmured Stephano as he was left
+alone. "Rosita vows she loves me, and at the same time declares she will
+never be mine while Dulaurier lives. _While he lives!_ And I must take
+upon myself the peril of saving him, when I have only to let him----Oh,
+how despair tempts us to horrible deeds! Is there time to fly, to quit
+this spot where each thought is torture: to hasten and join the
+guerillas before they enter the house? For, alas! if they enter now and
+demand where their enemy is--by Heaven! I shall not have the strength to
+resist--I must fly!"
+
+Picking up his gun and pistols he rushed towards the door, but recoiled
+at the sight of a man in the uniform of a captain of guerillas, who by a
+gesture forced him to pause.
+
+[Illustration: "IT IS TOO LATE!"]
+
+"Malediction--it is too late!" murmured the young man, as he dropped
+upon a chair, and let his unheeded weapons fall to the ground.
+
+"Two sentinels before each door and window," called out the captain to
+the soldiers who followed him. "This is the last house in which our
+prisoner could take refuge," he continued, striking impatiently the butt
+end of his rifle upon the ground. "Search well, comrades; you know he
+who takes the Frenchman prisoner is to have the honour of firing the
+first shot upon him, and is also to receive twenty douros for reward."
+Thereupon he advanced into the room. "Well, my good fellow," he said to
+Stephano; "what are you going to do with these weapons? Are they to
+defend yourself or to protect the officer whom you have hidden here?"
+
+"No one is hidden in this house," replied the young man, with the
+courage which peril bestows. "The La Sargas are known throughout the
+country to be devoted to Spain and the Queen. I have three brothers in
+the national army, and I have just picked up these weapons with the
+intention of joining your troops."
+
+The captain looked at him with a sneering smile. Then he turned to his
+companions, who had just returned from searching the house.
+
+"Well, have you found anything?"
+
+"Only a young girl and an old man," was the reply.
+
+"Bring the old man here," said the captain; then he turned to Stephano.
+"And you, sir, go with my lieutenant and these three men, and show them
+every room there is"; then he murmured in the lieutenant's ear,
+slipping at the same time a purse of gold into his hand: "Spare neither
+threats nor persuasion to gain this young man over to our side. Whatever
+it costs, I must recapture our prisoner."
+
+Stephano felt tempted to resist these orders, but he reflected that this
+would only draw suspicion upon him, and he led the way up the stairs,
+which were placed in a corner of the room.
+
+At the same time Don Pedro entered, guarded by two soldiers and leaning
+on his staff. Then an interval ensued, and the minutes flew past.
+Suddenly a pistol shot was heard. Everyone gave a start of alarm. Then
+one of the guards who had gone out with Stephano came rushing down the
+stairs and into the room.
+
+"The bird is snared, or will be in a few minutes," he cried. "Our
+prisoner," he continued, pointing through the window, "is in that
+building which you see at the bottom of the garden."
+
+"How do you know this?" asked the captain.
+
+"From the young man who is upstairs with the lieutenant."
+
+"From Stephano!" cried the old man, growing pale with horror.
+
+"Ah, ah!" laughed the captain, "your son does not seem very hard to
+persuade."
+
+"The lieutenant having discovered nothing," the man went on, "told three
+of us to go and search the granary, and took advantage of the occasion
+to take the young man aside. I watched them. A purse of gold and the
+barrel of a pistol have been the principal inducements. The sly fellow
+at first was very obstinate, and it was then that the lieutenant fired
+the pistol at him to frighten him. The young man seemed to be moved in a
+singular manner by the shot. He gave way with good grace, and pointed
+the pavilion out to us."
+
+Whilst the captain lent a joyful ear to this narrative, Don Pedro, on
+the contrary, listened with terror mingled with incredulity. At these
+last words he could contain himself no longer, and broke in violently:--
+
+"Enough, wretch; enough!" he cried. "What you say is impossible! It is
+an infamous calumny! My son is quite incapable of such villainy!"
+
+"Look, senor," replied the man, pointing to the stairs.
+
+Stephano in truth was descending with the lieutenant, holding the purse
+in his hand. His pale and agitated face seemed to proclaim his guilt,
+and Don Pedro sank back fainting on a seat. Stephano crossed the room
+with a faltering step without observing his father, and, reaching the
+window, gazed out upon the road.
+
+In recalling to mind his son's jealousy of Dulaurier, Don Pedro
+understood the facts of the matter--that he had sold his guest to get
+rid of a detested rival. Maddened by passion, he had without doubt lost
+all control over himself. After having exchanged some words in a low
+voice with his lieutenant, the captain made a sign to two of his men.
+
+"Remain with this fellow," he said, in a tone of contempt, pointing to
+Stephano, "until we reach the pavilion; if he makes one movement shoot
+him, and when a volley announces to you that we are not deceived, join
+us to start upon our route."
+
+"Very good, captain," answered the two soldiers, taking up their
+position on each side of Stephano, whilst the others went out softly.
+
+A mournful silence reigned in the chamber.
+
+Stephano stood erect before the window, with haggard eyes fixed upon the
+road; Don Pedro, mute and motionless in his chair, seemed like a man
+bereft of all at a single blow. Then, his misery overwhelming him, he
+covered his face with his hands and wept. Stephano turned round quickly,
+and for the first time saw his father.
+
+"Great Heavens! He was there, and heard all!" he murmured. "Father!" he
+cried imploringly.
+
+"Call me your father no more," cried the old man, with flaming eyes,
+"unless you can tell me that I am blind and deaf, or that I have dreamed
+that my son was a coward, a traitor, an assassin! Tell me so, Stephano,
+for pity's sake!"
+
+The young man made an effort as if he were about to speak, but paused at
+the sight of his two guards; the strain was so painful that he was
+forced to lean for support on one of the guerilla's arms. Then he turned
+away; Don Pedro rose from his seat and came towards his son.
+
+"His eye never quits this fatal window," he murmured to himself. "It
+looks as if he watched to see the success of his perfidy, that he wishes
+to assure himself that his rival does not escape. Wretch!" he burst
+forth, "if this is so, may you be----"
+
+Suddenly a hand was laid softly upon the old man's arm. It was Rosita.
+
+"Ah! it is you, Rosita!" said Don Pedro with a bewildered stare.
+"Wretched man that I am, what was I about to do?" he added, passing his
+hand over his forehead.
+
+Rosita came farther forward into the room.
+
+"Stephano guarded by two soldiers!" she cried. "Holy Virgin! what does
+this mean, and what has happened?"
+
+And she made an instinctive movement towards her cousin. Her uncle
+stopped her.
+
+"Keep away from this wretched man!" he cried, "for he is a coward and a
+traitor; he has betrayed your betrothed!"
+
+"Betrayed my betrothed!" cried the girl, with horror. "It is
+impossible!"
+
+"Not only has he betrayed him," continued the old man, taking his
+niece's hand, "but he is watching for the success of his treason. Do you
+recognise my son, Rosita?" he added, with heartrending despair, "or the
+man whom you loved?"
+
+Here the poor old man broke down completely, and sank back into his
+chair. The girl gazed at him with consternation. Even the rough soldiers
+were touched by the scene, and turned their heads aside.
+
+[Illustration: "THE POOR OLD MAN BROKE DOWN COMPLETELY."]
+
+At that instant a loud report shook the walls. It was the captain's
+volley. The two soldiers exchanged a meaning glance and disappeared. As
+soon as they went out Rosita threw herself in Don Pedro's arms.
+
+"Dulaurier is dead!" said the old man, gloomily.
+
+"He is saved!" cried Stephano, coming forward, and throwing from him as
+he did so the purse of gold. "Yes, father, yes, Rosita, the lieutenant
+is safe and sound, and will be with us in a few seconds."
+
+"How can that be?" cried Don Pedro, passing from despair to joy.
+
+"Before leaving Dulaurier in the pavilion we had arranged that he was to
+be informed by a pistol shot when he must leave his hiding-place for the
+granary whilst his enemies were searching the pavilion. You understand
+now how the guerilla's shot agitated me. For, of course, Dulaurier,
+taking the report for the signal agreed upon, would leave the pavilion
+for the granary, and would then fall into the hands of his pursuers. The
+only plan to save him was to get the soldiers away from the granary,
+which I did by feigning to betray Dulaurier, by accepting the purse, and
+pointing out the pavilion as his hiding-place. For a quarter of an hour
+I have endured the tortures of hell, but I have saved the man who
+confided in me, and I am still worthy of you both!"
+
+The young man had hardly finished his narrative when his father and
+Rosita were at his feet begging for forgiveness. Then Stephano hastened
+to the granary, and called the lieutenant's name, but there was no
+response, and soon Stephano's surprise was changed to uneasiness. He
+rushed into the granary. It was empty. Stephano reappeared, pale,
+tottering and breathless.
+
+"Dulaurier is not in the granary," he cried. "He cannot have taken the
+pistol shot for my signal. He must have remained, and that report we
+heard was his death-shot."
+
+He paused abruptly. Don Pedro and Rosita understood, and burst forth
+into an exclamation of horror.
+
+"Victory! Victory!" cried a hundred voices.
+
+Their despair and consternation were changed to the most lively
+astonishment, when a detachment of Don Carlos's volunteers entered the
+house, led by Dulaurier himself.
+
+"Dulaurier!" exclaimed Stephano, Don Pedro, and Rosita at the same time.
+
+"Our enemies!" said the old Castilian, whilst his niece shrank behind
+him.
+
+"Say rather friends," replied Dulaurier, pressing Stephano's hand
+warmly.
+
+"But how has all this happened?" began the bewildered Stephano.
+
+"One minute's attention. For half an hour I waited patiently after your
+departure in the little pavilion, when I heard the signal we arranged on
+of the pistol shot. I quitted my hiding-place at once, and was preparing
+to creep towards the granary, when, casting a glance upon the road, I
+recognised the uniforms of the volunteers of my regiment. Briefly,"
+continued Dulaurier, showing the soldiers who surrounded him, "here are
+the gentlemen, whom I have the honour of presenting to you. Like good
+comrades, they determined to avenge me, and we caught the guerillas in
+an ambush as they were searching the pavilion. Bang! a general
+discharge, and thirty men were lying on the ground, and the rest running
+away for their lives."
+
+"The volley of which we believed you the victim!" interrupted Stephano.
+
+"You understand the rest. Not wishing to quit Panola without thanking
+you, and also wishing to see about that little matter which I mentioned
+to you this morning, we came on here. And now," he added to Stephano,
+with the air of a man who has no time to lose, "I must thank you most
+warmly for all you have done for me."
+
+There was such a tone of kindness in these words that Stephano could do
+nothing but grasp his hand cordially in return.
+
+"Anyone else?" cried the effusive officer, looking quickly round. "You
+have a father, a mother, a wife, perhaps? Where are they? This noble old
+man must be your father," and upon Stephano's making an affirmative sign
+he grasped the old man's hand, and wrung it with force.
+
+"Are there no ladies in your family?" asked Dulaurier with a gallant
+air.
+
+It was then that in spite of Rosita's efforts to avoid his attention he
+caught sight of her as she hid behind Don Pedro's high-backed chair.
+
+"Ah! here is one!" he said, without recognising his betrothed. He
+stepped forward towards her.
+
+"Most amiable senora," he began politely, "permit me----" He paused,
+gazing with stupefied eyes upon the young girl, and then made a sign to
+his soldiers to leave them.
+
+"Good Heavens!" he exclaimed, "if I am not deceived it is Rosita, my
+pretty _fiancee_!"
+
+"You are right; it is I, Monsieur Dulaurier," faltered the young girl.
+
+The light of happiness vanished from all the faces in the room except
+the lieutenant's.
+
+"You can easily understand, my pretty one, what has led me to Panola,"
+said Dulaurier.
+
+"I presume you have come to remind Rosita," answered Don Pedro, "of the
+promise that she gave you at her dying father's bedside. She has not
+forgotten it, senor. She recognises her duty, and you have only one word
+to say----"
+
+"Will you answer me yourself, Rosita?" interrupted Dulaurier, marking
+her extreme pallor and agitation. "You know what I have the right of
+claiming; are you still able to give it me freely?"
+
+"Without doubt," she murmured; "if I give you my hand, my heart will go
+with it."
+
+"Words, nothing but words!" thought the lieutenant, who grew pale in his
+turn. "All women are weathercocks. It is clear I am superseded," and he
+bit his lip until it bled. "But I should like to know who is my
+substitute," and he turned mechanically to Stephano. He found him as
+mute and as troubled as Rosita. The truth flashed across him. "I cannot
+blame the brave young man," he murmured to himself, "for falling in love
+with his cousin. It has not prevented him from saving my life at the
+expense of his love and honour, and as I have no wish for a heart not
+wholly mine, I have now to render sacrifice for sacrifice, and to keep
+the reputation of France equal to that of Spain." He turned to Rosita
+with a smile.
+
+"Mademoiselle," he began, "when we plighted our troth, and I told you
+that I loved you devotedly, I was as sincere as I am to-day, only I took
+upon myself too much, and have contracted several other engagements,
+more or less similar to yours." He gave a forced laugh as he pronounced
+these words.
+
+"That is enough, senor," said Don Pedro. "But why have you then come to
+Panola to claim her promise?"
+
+"Who said that I was here for that purpose?" asked Dulaurier, abruptly.
+Stephano, indeed, recollected that the Frenchman had not said a single
+word which implied that he came to claim Rosita's hand. "I implore
+Mademoiselle Rosita to pardon me," pursued Dulaurier, "and I propose
+that we exchange rings again."
+
+[Illustration: "I PROPOSE THAT WE EXCHANGE RINGS AGAIN."]
+
+It was no sooner said than done. Dulaurier turned and clasped Stephano's
+hand again, and now the young man saw with apprehension that Dulaurier's
+eyes were dim with tears. Dulaurier could keep up the farce no longer,
+and his heart was breaking behind the smile upon his lips.
+
+"Dulaurier!" said the young man, "you weep: you are unhappy! What you
+have said has been only a sublime falsehood! You love Rosita--you wish
+to marry her--and if you have the generosity to renounce all for me, it
+must not be at the expense of your happiness."
+
+"Hush!" said Dulaurier, as he took him aside. "Do not undo my work. But
+since you have found it out, you are right. I did come back to claim
+Rosita. I have always loved her, and have loved none but her. But do not
+breathe a word of this. Let no thought of my unhappiness cast a shadow
+on her life. Sacrifice for sacrifice, young man. France is equal to
+Spain, and we are quits.
+
+"Farewell, brave Castilians," he cried aloud, "celebrate the marriage
+merrily: and let us hope that we shall never meet upon the battlefield
+of this unhappy country."
+
+"Farewell!" replied Stephano, huskily.
+
+Dulaurier pressed Don Pedro's and Stephano's hands, kissed that of
+Rosita, and joined his comrades outside.
+
+"Wheel to the right--forward!" he shouted, at the head of his battalion.
+
+Then came the roll of the drum, and they all marched past the window.
+
+"Rosita," said Stephano to his cousin, "you are free, and we are going
+to be happy; but never let us forget Lieutenant Dulaurier!"
+
+
+
+
+_The Queer Side of Things._
+
+
+The N. P. M. C
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Let us return for a space to the two spirits William and James, whose
+conversations we described in past numbers. Some readers may possibly
+recall how the spirit James, while wandering through the darkness of
+unoccupied Space (about five-and-twenty billions of eons before the
+commencement of Eternity), conceived a wild idea of the possibility of
+the existence of worlds--worlds occupied by an impracticability called
+"man." It will be recollected how the wiser spirit William cast
+well-merited ridicule upon this insanely impossible phantasy of a
+disordered mind; nay, even condescended to crush, by perspicuous and
+irrefutable logic, the grotesque and preposterous idea.
+
+Very well; it is now William's turn.
+
+"James," he said one day as they chanced to sight each other in the
+awful solitude of Space, "I have been thinking over that world of yours,
+and your crowning absurdity, 'man.' Pray do not become too inflated with
+weak conceit at my condescending to think about such trivialities; for
+the fact is, any subject of thought--however hopelessly foolish--is a
+relief amid the tediousness of Space. Well, I have been reflecting upon
+that characteristic which you conceive as distinguishing your puppet
+'man'--I allude to _intelligence_. I think you suggested that he would
+possess intelligence?"
+
+James only fidgeted uneasily, and made a feeble sign of affirmation.
+
+"Very well," continued William. "Now, I have been putting two and two
+together, and have found out the nature of that quality which you
+mistake for intelligence; its true name is 'low cunning.' Every fresh
+piece of absurdity which you have told me touching the tricks of your
+queer creatures has supplied new evidence of this. Your creatures were
+to feed upon the substance of the 'world' on which they lived, and, ever
+increasing in numbers, would logically in course of time find there was
+not a mouthful apiece. I think we agreed about that? Well, let us
+consider that period, some time before the creatures should actually
+become exterminated by the natural evolution of events--the time when
+all the eatable products of their world would be growing scarce. You
+went so far as to imagine a great many products----"
+
+"Yes!" said James, gazing afar off in the absorption of his imagination.
+"Yes--there were eggs, and oysters, and poultry, and mushrooms, and----"
+
+"Ah!--the very things I've been reflecting about. Well, I've been
+dreaming that, at the period of which I speak, when all the commodities
+were becoming scarce, your human beings would agree to make poisonous
+artificial articles of consumption with which to poison themselves by
+degrees, and thus reduce the population to convenient limits."
+
+"No!" cried James, pondering deeply. "Their idea would be to poison not
+_themselves_, but _each other_!"
+
+[Illustration: "POISON."]
+
+"Ah! I see. Then they would make some sort of effort to prevent
+themselves being poisoned?"
+
+"Oh, yes; they would pass Adulteration Acts for the purpose."
+
+"I see; and any creature who did not wish to be poisoned could take
+advantage of these Acts to protect himself?"
+
+"Certainly. The Acts would be very stringent. Let us suppose, for
+example, that a certain man suspected that the butter supplied to him
+was not butter at all, but a deleterious compound--well, all he would
+have to do would be to go to the shop, accompanied by a guardian of the
+peace, and, standing on one leg, with both hands on the counter and one
+eye shut, order a pound of the butter in certain words prescribed by the
+Act. He would then say to the tradesman, 'I am about to divide this
+pound of butter into three equal portions for the purposes of analysis';
+and, taking the butter-man's knife in his left hand, and passing it to
+his right, would cut the butter into three portions exactly equal.
+
+"After this, hermetically sealing the three portions in three jars
+provided for the purpose, he would hand one jar to the tradesman, the
+second to the guardian of the peace, and retain the third. Then he would
+bring an action; and (provided that all the conditions had been
+accurately fulfilled, without the slightest flaw) the erring tradesman
+would be told by the Court not to do it again; while the complainant
+would have to pay all costs, and possibly a fine; and would be sneered
+at by the magistrate as a fussy idiot and a common informer.
+
+"If, on the other hand, the complainant should omit to secure the
+company of a custodian of the peace, or fail to stand on one leg with
+both hands on the counter, or take the knife in his right hand first, or
+should leave out the prescribed words, or blink his eye, or stammer, or
+sneeze, or in any other way fail to observe the regulations of the Act;
+he would, of course, have no case or remedy. The Adulteration Acts would
+be extremely stringent----"
+
+"Against the victim of adulteration?"
+
+"Ye--es," murmured James, a little nonplussed.
+
+[Illustration: "THE SHOP."]
+
+"Ah--well, then, I think we can afford to ignore these Adulteration
+Acts--like the adulterators and the public authorities would--and
+proceed with the question of the adulteration. I had a most vivid vision
+or dream of the details of this adulteration as they would be carried
+out on your world at the period we are now considering. I imagined that
+I was actually in a part of your world called 'America,' and that one of
+your human beings politely invited me to walk through his factory and
+see how things were made. I think you mentioned 'oysters'----"
+
+[Illustration: "NO CASE."]
+
+"Yes," said James, "that's one name the article of food would possess;
+newspaper writers, however, would not recognise them by that name--they
+would only know them as 'the succulent bivalve.'"
+
+"The very idea!" exclaimed William. "That's exactly what I seemed to
+have become--a newspaper writer. I fancied I went to see the factory,
+and then sent in the following account:--
+
+"One of the most interesting factories in America is the stately
+building of the Ephraim Q. Knickerbocker Natural Products Manufacturing
+Corporation, of Spread Eagle Springs, N.J. That the structure is itself
+an imposing one may well be imagined in view of the vast productive
+energy expended within its walls; and the feebleness and inefficiency of
+the productive operations of Nature are never so fully realized as after
+a visit to this marvellous factory, and a comparison of the two systems.
+
+"It was, therefore, with no little satisfaction that we lately received
+a courteous invitation from the able and energetic managing director
+General Sardanapalus J. Van Biene to inspect the operations of the
+Corporation at its factory. Accordingly, we proceeded to the New York
+terminus of the Natural Products Manufacturing Corporation's New York,
+Sumner Ferry, Thanksgiving Flats, and Spread Eagle Springs Railroad,
+along which a special train speedily whirled us to the front door of the
+works. On the steps stood the genial managing director, supported by the
+principal manager Colonel Exodus V. Rooster, the head chemist Major
+Madison B. Jefferson, and the assistant chemists Judge Vansittart J.
+Sumner and Admiral Hudson W. Killigrew.
+
+"They received us with open arms, and, after entertaining us at a
+_recherche_ lunch, conducted us to the chemistry and analysis section
+occupying a little over seventeen acres and employing a permanent staff
+of thirteen thousand four hundred and thirty-two, assistants, among whom
+are chemists, microscopists, sub-inventors, etc., etc. There it is that
+the productive operations of Nature are studied and improved upon.
+
+"'You must not imagine that we have any kind of sympathy or admiration
+for Nature's system,' explained General S. J. Van Biene, hastening to
+sweep away any false impression which we might have formed.
+
+[Illustration: "THEY RECEIVED US WITH OPEN ARMS."]
+
+"'On the contrary, we just entirely despise her and her ways, and should
+have discarded her way back but for the prejudices of the consuming
+public. It's just like this--the consumers still believe in natural
+products, and so we have to go on reproducing them instead of starting
+right away on our own lines and bringing out new and original
+commodities far in advance of anything Nature can do. How we're
+stultified you'll see as we work through. We just have to copy, anyway,
+in place of originating. We make oysters, for example. Now quite a while
+ago, our head chemist Major Madison B. Jefferson invented a new edible
+way, finer in every essential than the oyster; but the consumers
+wouldn't have it: they shied at it, and declared it wasn't wholesome;
+and we had the whole stock on our hands, and had to vat it down again,
+and recolour it, and make tomatoes of it. Then they took it down and
+just chaired it round. Of course, we have to say we _grow_ the
+products--that's another effect of popular prejudice; if we had said we
+made those tomatoes, the public would have started right off again, and
+talked of "adulteration," although our tomatoes whip Nature's by 50 per
+cent, in all the elements of nutrition and flavour. Just taste this
+one.'
+
+"We hesitated, and the director, perceiving it, promptly consumed
+another from the same case. Thus reassured, we ventured to nibble at the
+artificial vegetable, and found it excellent in every respect--decidedly
+superior to the natural product, as he had stated.
+
+"'But,' we asked, 'do you not suffer considerable losses when these
+products--necessarily perishable in the natural course of things--begin
+to decay?'
+
+[Illustration: "JUST TASTE THIS ONE."]
+
+"'That's just another point where we show our superiority to Nature.
+_Our_ products _don't_ decay; on the contrary, they improve by keeping.
+Here is a tomato seven years old,' he continued, taking down another
+case. 'Try it.'
+
+"We did. The other was not to be compared with it. The older tomato had
+matured and mellowed, the skin having a finer colour and lovelier gloss,
+the flesh possessing a firmer body and more delicate flavour; it was far
+in advance of any tomato we had ever conceived.
+
+"'Wonderful!' we exclaimed.
+
+"'A very simple matter,' said the director. 'All that is required is a
+thorough mastery of chemistry. In all our goods we employ a special
+patent preservative of our own, which is naturally a secret. We
+calculate it to be worth one hundred and fifty quadrillions of dollars.
+
+"'But let us show you how we make oysters! See, these are the tanks
+which contain the mixture--the compound which forms the body of the
+bivalve. This tank contains the beard-mixture; and this one the
+gristle.'
+
+"'And what are the principal ingredients?'
+
+"'Glue, made from horses' heels. This is a very important factor in our
+products. This glue, after undergoing a peculiar treatment which
+prevents its hardening and losing its elasticity in the course of years,
+is flavoured and coloured in various ways. This great tank contains the
+composition for the internal parts of the oyster--nearly black, you
+perceive; that tank over there contains the compound for the flesh that
+covers the internal parts; that tank farther along holds the beard
+mixture; and the one beyond that the gristle which attaches the oyster
+to the shell. First, the flesh of the oyster is run into moulds, each
+oyster being in two parts; then the inside of the animal is run into
+another mould, and the two halves of the body are automatically placed
+around it and cemented together.
+
+"'Meanwhile the beards have been rolled, stamped, frilled, and coloured
+along the edge by special automatic machinery. The body of the oyster
+then passes to the fixing-up room, where the beard is cemented to it by
+hand, and finishing touches of colour added; and then it passes along
+and has the gristle attached: and the oyster itself is complete.'
+
+[Illustration: The Oyster Factory Affixing the Beards.]
+
+"'But it wants a shell!'
+
+"'Just so. As far as the supply will go, we buy up old shells from
+dustyards and use them; but most of them are damaged by previous
+opening, so we make the bulk of our shells, and they're a good deal more
+natural than the real ones. They're made of lime.'
+
+"'All alike?'
+
+"'Not in the least. You see, we have some thousands of moulds, every one
+differing slightly from the rest. There's a special department for
+hingeing the two shells together. We had some trouble to find a
+substance for the hinge; but at last one of our chemists hit on a way of
+subjecting old hide-scraps to a peculiar process, and that did the
+thing. The mother-of-pearl is made of a sort of soft glass, somewhat
+after the appearance of Venetian glass, and put on the shell hot.
+Lastly, the oyster is attached to the shells by its cartilage; a little
+liquor is put in, and the shells are closed up.'
+
+"'But surely people must observe that they are not alive?' we said. 'For
+instance, they can't open their shells!'
+
+"'That's just where you're astray,' replied the General. 'Owing to the
+mechanical action of salt upon the composition of the cartilage, the
+oyster opens when placed in salt water. Iron, however, exercises an
+electro-magnetic influence upon the composition forming the body of the
+bivalve, causing a sudden contraction--so that, on a knife being
+introduced into the shell, the latter closes in the most natural way. We
+manufacture pearls on the premises, and advertise that one oyster in
+every gross taken from our beds contains a pearl of more or less value;
+and there's a greater demand for our oysters than for any others in the
+world. Our oyster beds are way down along the coast, about ten miles
+off; and are inspected by thousands yearly. Taste this egg.'
+
+[Illustration: The Pearl.]
+
+"He took up a fine specimen of a new-laid egg, and proceeded to break it
+into a glass. It was a delightful egg. 'That's our latest pattern of
+egg,' explained the General, 'You perceive that it has three lines
+around it, where the substance of the shell is weaker than elsewhere;
+the lines near each end enable a person about to consume the egg in a
+boiled state to easily cut off the top or bottom with a knife, or run
+his nail around it; while the line about the middle greatly assists
+cooks in breaking it into a basin. There is also a thin spot at either
+end, to facilitate sucking. These eggs are always new-laid; we send tons
+to Europe, particularly to Great Britain, where ours are the only fresh
+eggs they ever get.'
+
+[Illustration: The London Egg]
+
+"'But you must find some difficulty in making an egg?'
+
+"'Just as easy as smiling. The white is simply jelly-fish subjected to a
+chemical process--jelly-fish aren't costly. This tank is full of the
+liquor. The main ingredient of the yolk is the horse-heel glue mentioned
+before; we also boil down vast quantities of rats--they come cheap, too;
+it's only the cost of catching them; and then there's a vegetable
+colouring, and the preservative, and a few other trifles. First, the two
+halves of the white are made in two moulds, and frozen; then the two
+frozen halves are frozen together, and the yolk-mixture poured in
+through a small hole, which is then closed. Then comes the skin; and
+that is the most expensive part, for it contains a certain quantity of
+rubber. We have tried in vain to find a substitute for rubber, but
+failed hitherto. The rubber is mixed with a gum from a South American
+tree, and the mixture is applied with a brush over the frozen egg; and
+then the egg, still frozen, is dipped in a lime composition very nearly
+identical with the oyster-shell mixture; and, lastly, the whole thing is
+passed through the finishing machine, which turns the three thin lines
+and the two thin spots, imitates the pores of the shell, and delivers
+the finished egg to the warehouse.'
+
+"'Marvellous!' we involuntarily exclaimed.
+
+"'Oh, that's nothing at all,' said the director. 'We're meditating
+turning out eggs that will hatch and become fowls. At present we have to
+manufacture fowls; but we calculate to make a great saving by producing
+them from the eggs we make. That building over yonder is the terrapin
+factory; we turn out eleven tons of terrapin weekly. We make clams, of
+course--in the oyster department. In this next house we make kidneys and
+sweetbreads. Fruit? Oh, yes, we turn out masses of fruit; peaches pay
+best, but we do very well with nuts.'
+
+"We were then conducted to the show-room, where we tasted a number of
+other products of the wonderful factory; and we had just said a grateful
+farewell to our courteous guide, when we were seized with pains of the
+most acute description.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: The Pain.]
+
+"The arrangements of the hospital were admirable. The kindliness and
+attention we received made our five years' sojourn there a time to look
+back upon with feelings of gratitude. We are assured that, with strict
+diet and unremitting care, we may last some time yet--possibly even
+three months."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"It was a marvellous vision," said James, fervently, as the voice of
+William ceased. "Surely after that you must think better of those beings
+of mine?"
+
+But William merely sniffed.
+
+                              J. F. SULLIVAN.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A TURNIP RESEMBLING A HUMAN HAND.]
+
+The above photographs represent two views of an extraordinary turnip
+grown by Alderman David Evans, Llangennech Park, Carmarthenshire. We are
+indebted for the photographs to Mr. Morgan W. James, of Llanelly.
+
+
+[Illustration: A ROOM PAPERED WITH STAMPS.]
+
+The above photograph represents the study of Mr. C. Whitfield King, of
+Morpeth House, Ipswich, which he has papered with 44,068 _unused_
+foreign postage stamps, bearing the value of L699 16s. 9d., and
+containing 48 varieties of different sizes and colours, presenting an
+example of mosaic work which is altogether unique of its kind.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: Drinking]
+
+[Illustration: VESSELS OF ALL]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A CROCODILE STORY.]
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue
+27, March 1893, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STRAND MAGAZINE, MARCH 1893 ***
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+eBook #30222 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/30222)
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue 27,
+March 1893, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue 27, March 1893
+       An Illustrated Monthly
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: George Newnes
+
+Release Date: October 9, 2009 [EBook #30222]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STRAND MAGAZINE, MARCH 1893 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Victorian/Edwardian Pictorial Magazines,
+Jonathan Ingram, Josephine Paolucci and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+STRAND MAGAZINE
+
+_An Illustrated Monthly_
+
+Vol. 5, Issue. 27.
+
+March 1893
+
+
+[Illustration: "BY HEAVEN," CRIED RUY LOPEZ, "THE DUKE SHALL FINISH HIS
+GAME!"
+
+(_A Game of Chess_.)]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+A GAME of CHESS.
+
+FROM THE FRENCH.
+
+
+I.
+
+King Phillip II. was playing at chess in the Escurial Palace. His
+opponent was Ruy Lopez, a humble priest, but a chess player of great
+skill. Being the King's particular favourite, the great player was
+permitted to kneel upon a brocaded cushion, whilst the courtiers grouped
+about the King were forced to remain standing in constrained and painful
+attitudes.
+
+It was a magnificent morning. The air was perfumed with the orange
+groves, and the violet curtains of the splendid hall hardly softened the
+burning rays which streamed in through the windows. The blaze of living
+light seemed scarcely in harmony with the King's gloomy countenance. His
+brow was black as night, and from time to time he bent his eyes
+impatiently upon the door. The nobles stood in silence, darting meaning
+glances at each other. It was easily to be discerned that some event of
+great importance weighed upon the spirits of the assembly. No one paid
+any attention to the chess-board except Ruy Lopez, who, as he moved the
+pieces, hesitated between the temptation of checkmating his opponent and
+the deference due to his King. The silence was unbroken except by the
+sound made by the players moving their pieces.
+
+Suddenly the door opened, and a man of rude and savage aspect advanced
+into the hall, and, presenting himself before the King, stood waiting
+his commands to speak. This man's appearance was anything but
+prepossessing, and on his entrance the nobles, as if animated with one
+thought, shrank back with contempt and loathing, as if some unclean
+animal had entered into their midst. His massive, herculean figure was
+clad in a doublet of black leather, and his face, in which could be seen
+no trace of intelligence, expressed, on the contrary, nothing but
+vileness and villainy; a great scar, running right across his face and
+losing itself in a bushy beard, added still further to the natural
+brutality of his countenance.
+
+An electric thrill ran through the assembly. The new comer was Fernando
+Calavar, high executioner of Spain.
+
+"Is he dead?" asked the King, in an imperious tone.
+
+"No, sire," replied Calavar, bowing low.
+
+The King frowned.
+
+"Great Sovereign of Spain," Calavar continued, "the prisoner has claimed
+his privileges, and I cannot take proceedings against a man whose blood
+belongs to the noblest in Spain, without having a more imperative order
+from your Majesty," and he bowed again.
+
+The nobles, who had listened with great attention to these words, broke
+into a murmur of approbation as the man finished speaking. The proud
+Castilian blood rushed like a stream of lava through their veins, and
+dyed their faces crimson. The manifestation became general. Young Alonza
+D'Ossuna openly asserted his opinion by putting on his plumed cap. His
+bold example was followed by the majority of the nobles, and their lofty
+nodding crests seemed to proclaim with defiance that their masters
+protested in favour of the privilege, which the hidalgos of Spain have
+always enjoyed, of covering their heads before their Sovereign.
+
+The King gave a furious start, and striking his fist violently upon the
+chess-board, scattered the chessmen in all directions.
+
+"He has been judged by our Royal Court of Justice," he cried, "and
+condemned to death. What does the traitor demand?"
+
+"Sire!" replied the executioner, "he asks permission to die upon the
+block, and also to pass the three last hours of his life with a priest."
+
+"Ah, that is granted!" replied Philip, in a tone of relief. "Is not our
+confessor in the prison according to our orders?"
+
+"Yes, sire!" said Calavar, "the holy man is there; but the Duke refuses
+to see St. Diaz de Silva. He says he cannot receive absolution from
+anyone below the dignity of a Bishop. Such is the privilege of a noble
+condemned to death for high treason."
+
+"Yes, these are our rights!" boldly interrupted the fiery D'Ossuna; "and
+we claim from the King our cousin's privileges."
+
+This demand acted as a signal.
+
+"Our rights and the King's justice are inseparable," cried Don Diego de
+Tarraxas, Count of Valence, an old man of gigantic stature, clothed in
+armour, holding in his hands the bâton of Great Constable of Spain, and
+leaning upon his long Toledo blade.
+
+"Our rights and our privileges!" cried the nobles, repeating the words
+like an echo. Their audacity made the King start with fury from his
+ebony throne.
+
+"By the bones of Campeador!" he cried. "By the soul of St. Jago! I have
+sworn neither to eat nor sleep until the bleeding head of Don Gusman
+lies before me. As I have sworn, so shall it be. But Don Tarraxas has
+said well, 'The King's justice confirms his subjects' rights.' My Lord
+Constable, where does the nearest Bishop reside?"
+
+"Sire, I have more to do with camp than with the Church," the Constable
+replied, somewhat abruptly. "Your Majesty's chaplain, Don Silvas, is
+present: he can tell you better than I."
+
+Don Silvas began to speak in trepidation.
+
+[Illustration: "WHAT DOES THE TRAITOR DEMAND?"]
+
+"Sire," he said, humbly, "the Bishop of Segovia is an official of the
+King, but he who filled the duty died last week, and the parchment which
+names his successor is still upon the Council table, and is yet to be
+submitted to the Pope's seal."
+
+At these words a joyous smile hovered about D'Ossuna's lips. This joy
+was but natural, for the young man was of the blood of the Gusmans, and
+his cousin, the condemned prisoner, was his dearest friend. The King
+perceived the smile, and his eye shot forth lightning.
+
+"We are the King!" he said, gravely, with the calm which presages a
+storm; "our Royal person must be no butt for raillery. This sceptre
+appears light, my lords, but he who ridicules it shall be crushed
+thereby as with a block of iron. I believe that our holy father the Pope
+is somewhat indebted to us, so that we do not fear his displeasure at
+the step which we are about to take. Since the King of Spain can make a
+Prince, he can also make a Bishop. Rise, then, Don Ruy Lopez. I create
+you Bishop of Segovia. Rise, I command you, and take your rank in the
+Church."
+
+The courtiers stood dumfounded.
+
+Don Ruy Lopez rose mechanically. His head was whirling, and he stammered
+as he strove to speak.
+
+"If your Majesty pleases----" he began.
+
+"Silence, my Lord Bishop!" replied the King. "Obey your Sovereign. The
+formalities of your installation shall be performed another day; our
+subjects will not fail to acknowledge our wishes in this affair. Bishop
+of Segovia, go with Calavar to the condemned man's cell. Give absolution
+to his soul, and in three hours leave his body to the executioner's axe.
+As for you, Calavar, I will await you here; you will bring us the
+traitor's head. Let justice be accomplished."
+
+Then Philip turned to Ruy Lopez.
+
+"I give you my signet ring," he said, "to show the Duke as a token of
+the truth of your story."
+
+The executioner left the chamber, followed by Ruy Lopez.
+
+"Well, gentlemen," said the King, turning to the others, "do you still
+doubt the King's justice?"
+
+But the nobles answered not a word.
+
+The King, having taken his seat, made a sign to one of his favourites to
+place himself before the chess-board, and Don Ramirez, Count of Biscay,
+accordingly knelt down upon the velvet cushion.
+
+"With a game of chess, gentlemen," said the King, smiling, "and your
+company, I cannot fail to make the time pass agreeably. Let no one leave
+the chamber until Calavar's return. We cannot spare a single one of
+you."
+
+With these ironical words, Philip commenced a game with Don Ramirez,
+whilst the nobles, almost dropping with fatigue, resumed the positions
+about their august master which they had occupied at the beginning of
+this story.
+
+
+II.
+
+Calavar, leading the way, conducted the new Bishop to the condemned
+man's cell. Ruy Lopez walked like one in a dream. Was he awake, or not?
+He hardly knew. At the bottom of his heart he cursed the King and his
+Court. He understood perfectly that he had become Bishop of Segovia, but
+he felt deeply at what a price he had bought his dignity. What had Don
+Gusman done that he should be thus sacrificed? Don Gusman, the best
+chess player in Spain! He thought of all this as he proceeded over the
+marble flags which led to the State prison, and as he thought he prayed
+that the ground would open and swallow him up.
+
+Don Gusman was pacing impatiently up and down his narrow cell with a
+hurried step that betrayed the feverish anxiety of his mind. The cell
+was furnished with a massive table and two heavy wooden stools, the
+floor being covered with coarse, thick mats. Shut out from all the
+noises of the outer world, here silence reigned supreme. A crucifix,
+roughly carved, was fixed to the wall in the niche of a high window,
+which was carefully barred with iron. Except for this image of
+resignation and mercy, the walls were bare. Well might this dungeon
+serve as antechamber to the tomb.
+
+As Ruy Lopez entered the cell a sudden burst of sunshine flooded the
+walls as if in bitter mockery of him who was soon to see it no more.
+
+The Duke saluted the new Bishop with great courtesy. They regarded each
+other, and exchanged in that look a thousand words which they alone
+could understand. Ruy Lopez felt the painfulness of his position deeply,
+and the Duke understood his embarrassment. Their thoughts were both the
+same, that in the condemnation of one of the principal favourites of the
+King an innocent life was threatened! The proofs of the crime imputed to
+the Duke were grave; the most important being a despatch written in Don
+Gusman's hand to the French Court, in which he unfolded a scheme for
+assassinating Philip II. This had sufficed to condemn him.
+
+Don Gusman, strong in his innocence, had kept a rigorous silence when
+brought before his judges, and the accusation not being denied,
+sentence of death was passed upon him. Don Gusman since his
+incarceration had not altered. He had braved the storm, and looked upon
+death with an unmoved countenance. His last hours had no terrors for
+him. If his forehead was overshadowed, if his steps were agitated and
+his breathing hurried, it was because there rose before his eye the
+image of his betrothed, Dona Estella, who, ignorant of her lover's fate,
+was waiting for him in her battlemented castle on the banks of the
+Guadalquiver. If he felt weak at this fatal moment, and if a pang shot
+through his heart, it was because his thoughts were of her who was to
+him the dearest thing in all the world.
+
+[Illustration: "RUY LOPEZ ENTERED THE CELL."]
+
+Ruy Lopez had not entered alone. Calavar was at his side; and it was he
+who announced to the Duke the King's decision and reply. Ruy Lopez
+confirmed the executioner's words, and the Duke, falling on his knees
+before the new Bishop, asked his blessing, then turning to Calavar with
+a gesture of authority, he dismissed him, saying:--
+
+"In three hours I shall be at your disposal."
+
+Calavar obeyed him and went out, and the Duke and Bishop were left
+alone.
+
+Ruy Lopez was trembling with nervousness, whilst Don Gusman's face wore
+a calm and serene expression. He took the Bishop's hand, and wrung it
+warmly. There was a pause. The Duke was the first to break the silence.
+
+"We have met before in happier circumstances," he said, smiling.
+
+"It is true," stammered Ruy Lopez, who, pale and agitated, resembled
+rather the penitent than the confessor.
+
+"Much happier," repeated the Duke, absently. "Do you remember, when you
+played your celebrated game of chess with Paoli Boy, the Sicilian, in
+the presence of the King and Court, that it was upon my right arm that
+the King leant?" Then after a pause he continued: "Do you remember also,
+father, those words of Cervantes, 'Life is a game of chess?' I have
+forgotten the exact place in which the passage occurs, but its meaning
+is, that upon earth men play different rôles. There are, as in chess,
+kings, knights, soldiers, bishops, according to their birth, fate and
+fortune; and when the game is over death lays them all as equals in the
+tomb, even as we gather together the chessmen into a box."
+
+"Yes, I remember those words of Don Quixote," replied Don Lopez,
+astonished at this singular conversation, "and I remember also Sancho's
+reply: 'That however good the comparison was, it was not so new that he
+had not heard it before.'"
+
+"I was your favourite pupil, even your rival," said the Duke, without
+appearing to hear Don Lopez.
+
+"It is true," cried the Bishop. "You are a great master of the game, and
+I have been often proud of having such a pupil. But now, on your knees,
+my son."
+
+They knelt down together, and there before the crucifix Don Gusman made
+confession to Ruy Lopez, who as he listened could hardly restrain his
+tears.
+
+When the Duke had finished, two hours after--for the confession under
+the Church seal was long and touching--the Bishop blessed the prisoner,
+and gave him absolution. The face of Don Gusman, as he rose, was calm
+and resigned.
+
+[Illustration: "THEY KNELT DOWN TOGETHER."]
+
+But there remained still an hour to wait.
+
+"This delay is torture," cried the Duke. "Why do they not cut off the
+prisoners at once, instead of stretching their souls upon such a rack of
+agony? An eternity of suffering is in each of these minutes." And the
+prisoner began to walk impatiently to and fro, with his eyes constantly
+bent upon the door. The Duke's firmness was shaken by the thought of
+that weary hour of waiting. Ruy Lopez had fulfilled his duty. The
+prisoner's soul was purified, and now the priest could become the
+friend.
+
+As Don Lopez heard Don Gusman utter this exclamation, and saw his face
+grow white, he understood what agony he was undergoing, and felt at once
+that something must be done to divert his thoughts. But in vain he
+racked his brain for an idea. He could think of nothing. What could he
+propose to a man about to die? For such as he, the flower has no longer
+perfume, woman has no longer beauty. Then suddenly a thought flashed
+across his brain.
+
+"How would a game of chess--" he began, timidly.
+
+"An excellent idea!" cried Don Gusman, recalled to himself by this
+singular proposal. "A farewell game of chess."
+
+"You consent?"
+
+"Most readily; but where are the chessmen, my friend?"
+
+"Am I not always provided with the instruments of war?" said Ruy Lopez,
+smiling. Then he pulled forward the two stools and set out upon the
+table a microscopic set of chessmen. "Our Lady pardon me!" he continued.
+"I often pass my spare time in the confessional in working out some
+problem."
+
+The chessmen being set out, the players took their seats, and were soon
+absorbed in the excitement of the game.
+
+This strange contest, between a priest and a condemned prisoner, made a
+picture worthy of the brush of Rembrandt or Salvator Rosa. The light
+which streamed from the arched windows fell upon the pale, noble
+features of Don Gusman, and upon the venerable head of Ruy Lopez.
+
+The emotions of the two players were very different. Ruy Lopez played
+with a preoccupation which was not usual to him, and which rendered him
+much inferior to his ordinary strength. Don Gusman, on the contrary,
+stimulated by excitement, played with more than his ordinary skill. At
+this moment his noble Castilian blood did not fail him, for never had
+the Duke given better proof of the clearness of his mind. Such a flash
+of intellect must be compared to the last flickers of the failing lamp,
+or to the last song of the dying swan.
+
+Don Gusman suddenly attacked his adversary with an impetuosity which
+nearly gained him a certain victory; but Ruy Lopez, recalled to himself
+by this vigorous effort, defended himself bravely. The game became more
+and more complicated. The Bishop strove to gain a mate which he saw, or
+believed he saw, at hand, whilst Don Gusman played with the eagerness of
+certain victory. Everything was forgotten, and time passed unnoticed.
+The chess-board was their universe, and a life of anxiety was in each
+move.
+
+The minutes, the quarters, the half-hours flew by, and the fatal hour
+arrived at last.
+
+A distant sound struck on their ears; it grew nearer, it increased, and
+the door swinging open gave admittance to Calavar and his assistants,
+who advanced into the cell with torches in their hands. They were armed
+with swords, and two of them bore the block, covered with a black cloth,
+on which lay an axe.
+
+[Illustration: "THE GAME BECAME MORE AND MORE COMPLICATED."]
+
+The torches were placed in the receptacle prepared for them, whilst one
+of the men scattered cedar sawdust on the floor. All this was the work
+of a moment, while the executioner stood waiting for the prisoner.
+
+As Calavar entered, Ruy Lopez started to his feet, in a tremor of alarm,
+but the Duke did not move. His eyes were fixed upon the chess-board. It
+was his turn to play. Calavar, seeing his abstracted gaze, advanced to
+the Duke's side and placed his hand upon his shoulder.
+
+"Come," he said.
+
+The prisoner shuddered as if he had trodden upon a serpent.
+
+"I must finish this game," he said, imperiously.
+
+"It is impossible," Calavar replied.
+
+"But, fellow, the game is mine! I can force mate in a few moves. Let me
+play it out."
+
+"I cannot. It is impossible," repeated the executioner.
+
+"Are the three hours gone already?"
+
+"The last stroke has just struck. We must obey the King."
+
+The assistants, who had until then stood leaning on their swords, came
+forward at these words.
+
+The Duke was sitting against the wall, under the high window, with the
+table between him and Calavar. He started to his feet.
+
+"I shall not move until the game is over. In half an hour my head shall
+be at your disposal."
+
+"My lord," replied Calavar, "I respect you deeply, but I cannot grant
+you this request. I answer for your life with mine."
+
+Don Gusman made a gesture of impatience, and pulling off his diamond
+rings, he threw them at the executioner's feet. "I mean to finish the
+game," he said, carelessly.
+
+The jewels sparkled as they rolled and settled in the dust.
+
+"My orders are imperative," cried Calavar, "and you must pardon us,
+noble Duke, if we have to use force; but the King's orders and the law
+of Spain must be carried out. Obey, then, and do not waste your last
+moments in a useless struggle. Speak to the Duke, my lord Bishop. Tell
+him to submit to his fate."
+
+Ruy Lopez's reply was as prompt as it was decisive. He seized the axe
+which lay upon the block and swung it with both hands above his head.
+
+"By Heaven!" he cried, "the Duke _shall_ finish his game!"
+
+Scared by the gesture which accompanied these words, Calavar drew back
+in such a fright that he stumbled and fell back on his companions. The
+swords flashed from their scabbards, and the band prepared for attack.
+But Ruy Lopez, who appeared to have put forth the strength of a
+Hercules, cast upon the ground his heavy wooden stool.
+
+"The first of you who passes this limit dies!" he cried in a loud voice.
+"Courage, Duke!--to the attack! There are only four of these miscreants.
+The last desire of your Grace shall be gratified, were I to lose my life
+in the attempt. And you, wretched man, beware how you lay a finger upon
+a Bishop of the Church. Down with your swords and respect the Lord's
+anointed!" And Ruy Lopez continued to hurl forth, in a jargon of
+Spanish and Latin, one of those formulas of excommunication and
+malediction which at that period acted so strongly upon the masses of
+the people.
+
+The effect was prompt. The men stood rooted to the spot with terror,
+whilst Calavar, thinking that to kill a Bishop without a sealed order
+from the King was to run the risk of putting his life in jeopardy in
+this world and his soul in the next, avowed himself vanquished. He knew
+not what to do next. To rush with the news to the King, who was waiting
+impatiently for Don Gusman's head, was only to expose himself. To attack
+the prisoner and the priest would be too hazardous, for Ruy Lopez was a
+man of no mean strength. The position of affairs was critical. At last
+he decided to take the easiest way out of the difficulty--to wait.
+
+"Will you promise me faithfully to give yourself up in half an hour?" he
+demanded of Don Gusman.
+
+"I promise," replied the Duke.
+
+"Play on, then," said the executioner.
+
+The truce being thus concluded, the players returned to their seats and
+their game, whilst Calavar and his companions, forming themselves into a
+circle, stationed themselves round the two players. Calavar, who was
+himself a chess player, looked on with interest, and could not prevent
+himself from involuntarily considering each move the players made.
+
+Don Gusman looked up for an instant upon the circle of faces which
+surrounded him, but his _sang froid_ did not abandon him.
+
+"Never have I played in the presence of such a noble company!" he cried.
+"Bear witness, rascals, that at least once in my life I have beaten Don
+Lopez." Then he returned to the game with a smile upon his lips. The
+Bishop gripped the handle of the axe which he still held in his hand.
+
+"If I were only sure of escaping from this tigers' den," he thought, "I
+would break every head of the four of them."
+
+
+III.
+
+If three hours had dragged in the prisoner's cell, they had not passed
+more quickly in the Royal chamber of King Philip.
+
+The King had finished his game with Don Ramirez de Biscay, and the
+nobles, still compelled from etiquette to remain standing, appeared
+almost ready to drop with fatigue, rendered still more painful from the
+weight of their armour.
+
+Don Tarraxas stood motionless, with closed eyes like one of those iron
+figures which ornamented the castles of the savage Goths. Young
+D'Ossuna, with drooping head, stood propped against a marble pillar,
+whilst King Philip strode impatiently about the apartment, only stopping
+at intervals to listen to some imaginary noise. According to the
+superstitious custom of the age, the King knelt for a few moments at the
+foot of a figure of the Virgin placed upon a porphyry pedestal to pray
+the Madonna to pardon him the deed of blood which was about to take
+place. Silence reigned, for no one, whatever his rank might be, dared to
+speak before his Sovereign without his commands.
+
+As the King's eyes saw the last grain of sand fall in the hour-glass he
+uttered an exclamation of joy.
+
+"The traitor dies!" he cried.
+
+An almost inaudible murmur ran through the assembly.
+
+"The hour is passed, Count of Biscay," said Philip, turning to Don
+Ramirez, "and with it your enemy."
+
+"My enemy, sire?" asked Ramirez, affecting surprise.
+
+"Why do you repeat my words, Count?" replied the King. "Were you not a
+rival to Don Gusman in the affections of Dona Estella, and can rivals be
+friends? Dona Estella shall be yours. This young girl will bring you her
+beauty and her fortune. I have not spoken of this to our Council, but my
+Royal word is pledged. If the ingratitude of Sovereigns is ever spoken
+of before you, Count, you will be able to reply that we did not forget
+the true friend of the King and of Spain who discovered the plot and the
+correspondence of Don Gusman with France."
+
+Don Ramirez de Biscay seemed to listen to the King with uneasiness. He
+kept his eyes fixed upon the ground, as if he disliked to be thus
+praised in public. Then he made an effort to reply.
+
+"Sire!" he said, "it was with great repugnance that I fulfilled such a
+painful duty"--he hesitated, and then was silent.
+
+Tarraxas gave a slight start, whilst D'Ossuna struck sharply the pommel
+of his sword with his iron glove.
+
+"Before Dona Estella shall belong to this man," thought D'Ossuna, "I
+will have vengeance or perish in the attempt. Tomorrow shall be the day
+of my revenge."
+
+The King continued:--
+
+"Your zeal, Don Ramirez, and your devotion must be rewarded. The saviour
+of our throne, and perhaps of our dynasty, merits a particular gift.
+This morning I ordered you to make out some _lettres-patentes_, which
+confer upon you the rank of Duke and Governor of Valence. Are these
+ready to be signed?"
+
+Don Ramirez grew pale with pleasure. He shook like an aspen and his eyes
+grew dim. But the King made an impatient movement, and the Count,
+drawing a roll of parchment hastily from his breast, presented it on his
+knees to the King.
+
+"My first public duty to-day shall be to sign these papers," said the
+King. "The executioner has already punished treason; it is now time for
+the King to recompense fidelity."
+
+The King unrolled the parchment and began to read. As he read, his face
+became convulsed with fury, and his eyes shot forth flames of wrath.
+
+"By my father's soul!" he shouted; "what do I behold?"
+
+
+IV.
+
+The game of chess was finished. Don Gusman had beaten Ruy Lopez, and his
+triumph was complete. He rose to his feet.
+
+"I am now, as ever, ready to obey the wishes of my King," he said to
+Calavar.
+
+The executioner understood him, and began to prepare the block. Whilst
+this was being done Don Gusman advanced towards the crucifix, and said
+in a firm voice:--
+
+"Oh, Heaven! may this unjust and rash act which is about to take place
+fall upon the head of him who is the instigator of this treachery; but
+let not my blood recoil upon the head of my King."
+
+[Illustration: "WHAT DO I BEHOLD?"]
+
+Ruy Lopez, crouching in a corner of the cell, and burying his face in
+his mantle, began to recite the prayers for the dying.
+
+Calavar approached Don Gusman, and putting his hand upon the Duke's
+shoulder began to loosen his ruff. Don Gusman shrank back from the
+contact.
+
+"Nothing that belongs to you, except this axe, shall touch a Gusman," he
+said, taking off his ruff himself and placing his head upon the block.
+"Strike!" he added, "I am ready!"
+
+The executioner raised the axe--the King's justice was at last to be
+satisfied, when shouts, rapid footsteps and confused voices arrested the
+sweep of the executioner's arm.
+
+The door gave way under the united efforts of a troop of armed men, and
+D'Ossuna, rushing into the cell, threw himself between the executioner
+and his victim. He was just in time.
+
+"He lives!" cried Tarraxas.
+
+"He is saved!" repeated D'Ossuna. "My beloved cousin, I never hoped to
+have seen you alive again. God in His mercy has not let the innocent
+perish for the guilty. God be praised!"
+
+"God be praised!" echoed all the spectators, and louder than the rest
+rang out the voice of Ruy Lopez.
+
+"You have arrived in time, my friend," said Don Gusman to his cousin;
+"but now I shall have no longer strength to die," and he sank back
+fainting on the block. The shock had been too much for him.
+
+Ruy Lopez seized the Duke in his arms, and, followed by all the nobles,
+bore him along the passages to the King's apartment. When Don Gusman
+opened his eyes he found himself in the midst of a circle of his
+friends, amongst which stood the King, looking down upon him with an
+expression of joy.
+
+Don Gusman could hardly believe his senses. From the axe and the block
+he had passed to the King's apartment. He did not understand why this
+change had taken place. He did not know that Don Ramirez, in giving his
+_lettres-patentes_ to the King to sign, had, in his agitation, given him
+instead a paper containing a plot in which he schemed to get rid for
+ever of Don Gusman, a detested rival, and one of the firmest supporters
+of the throne. He was ignorant of all that had passed, and did not know
+how he had escaped from the clutches of the executioner. It was some
+time before everything could be made clear to him.
+
+Three days afterwards, at the same hour as Gusman's miraculous delivery,
+Calavar beheaded Don Ramirez, Count of Biscay, traitor and false
+witness. Don Gusman was overwhelmed with congratulations on all sides.
+King Philip grasped him cordially by his hand.
+
+"Gusman," he said, "I have been very unjust. I can never forgive my
+folly."
+
+"Sire," replied the Duke, "let us speak of it no more. Such words spoken
+by my King are worth a thousand lives."
+
+But the King continued.
+
+"I desire," he said, "that henceforth, in commemoration of your almost
+miraculous deliverance, you carry upon your escutcheon a silver axe
+emblazoned on an azure chess-board. This month we shall celebrate your
+marriage with Dona Estella. The marriage shall take place in our
+Escurial Palace."
+
+Then he added, turning to Ruy Lopez:--
+
+"I believe that the Church will possess a good servant in its new
+Bishop. You shall be consecrated Lord Prelate, with a scarlet robe,
+enriched with diamonds; that will be the recompense of your game of
+chess with Don Gusman."
+
+"Sire," replied Don Lopez, "never before this day have I been satisfied
+to be checkmated."
+
+The King smiled, and the courtiers followed his example.
+
+"Now, my lords," continued Philip, "we invite you all to our Royal
+banquet. Let Don Gusman's seat be placed upon our right, and the Bishop
+of Segovia's on our left. Give me your arm, Don Gusman."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Illustrated Interviews
+
+XXL--MR. AND MRS. KENDAL.
+
+
+If one had waited for a few months, "The Kendals" would have been
+getting settled in their new home in Portland Place. But, then, the
+happiest associations are always centred around the old, and the
+pleasantest and frequently the dearest recollections are gathered about
+the familiar. That is why I went to them once more to their home of many
+years at 145, Harley Street.
+
+It would be difficult to realize a woman of more striking
+characteristics than she who was for so many years known as "Madge"
+Robertson, and notwithstanding a very important visit one morning in
+August twenty-three years ago to St. Saviour's, Plymouth Grove,
+Manchester, when she became the wife of Mr. William Hunter Grimston,
+there are many who still know and speak of her by her happily-remembered
+maiden name. From that day husband and wife have never played
+apart--they have remained sweethearts on the stage and lovers in their
+own home. At night--the footlights; by day--home and children. Mrs.
+Kendal assured me that neither her eldest daughter, Margaret, nor Ethel,
+nor Dorothy--the youngest--nor "Dorrie," who is now at Cambridge, nor
+Harold, a "Marlborough" boy, would ever go on the stage. Home, husband,
+and children--home, wife, and children, are the embodiment of the life
+led by the Kendals.
+
+[Illustration: THE DRAWING-ROOM
+
+_From a Photo by Elliott & Fry_.]
+
+Together with Mr. Kendal we sat down in the drawing-room, and were
+joined for a moment by Miss Grimston, a quiet, unaffected young girl,
+who looked as though she could never rid herself of a smile, either in
+her eyes or about her mouth--a young maiden who suggested "sunshine."
+She was carrying Victoria, a pet dog. The mother's whole thoughts seemed
+to go out to her daughter.
+
+"Our Jubilee dog," she cried. "I bought her on Jubilee Day, and,
+curiously enough, Mr. Kendal bought one too, neither of us telling the
+other we were going to make such canine purchases."
+
+Then, when Miss Grimston had left the room, her mother turned to me
+quietly, and said:--
+
+"The image of my brother Tom. The same hair, the same expression of
+eyes, the same kind and loving ways. I think he lives in my girl. Come
+with me and you shall see his portrait."
+
+It hung in Miss Grimston's boudoir--an apartment the walls of which were
+decorated with pictures of the Comédie-Française Company, the original
+designs for the dresses in "A Wife's Secret"; while over the
+mantel-board are Mr. and Mrs. Kendal in "The Ironmaster," and many
+family portraits are about.
+
+[Illustration: MISS GRIMSTON'S BOUDOIR.
+
+_From a Photo by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+"It is so amusing to hear people talk and write about my eldest brother
+Tom and me playing together as children," she said. "My mother was
+married when she was eighteen, and my brother was born when she was
+nineteen; I was born when she was forty-eight, and was her twenty-second
+child! So my brother was a grown man with a moustache when I knew him. I
+was brought up with his two children--little Tom and Maude, my own
+nephew and niece."
+
+What a delightful story it was! Little Madge Robertson used to dress up
+as a policeman and take Maude into custody before Tom, the younger, as
+the judge. And this was the trial:--
+
+"What is the prisoner charged with, constable?" asked the judge.
+
+"Murder, my lord," replied the representative of law and order.
+
+"Prisoner, are you guilty?"
+
+"Yes, my lord," answered the poor prisoner.
+
+"Prisoner, have you anything to say why sentence should not be passed
+upon you according to law?"
+
+"Yes, my lord. _I'm the daughter of the author of 'Caste'._"
+
+The prisoner always got off, and dear old William Robertson would watch
+this little scene and roar with laughter.
+
+"Yes," Mrs. Kendal said quietly, as we again looked at "Tom's" picture,
+"my brother was kindness itself, even from his infancy. I remember
+hearing how, when he was a very small boy and living with his aunt, he
+went out one summer's day with a new velvet jacket on. He caught sight
+of a poor little beggar child his own size, who was in tatters, and,
+beckoning him across, at once divested himself of his new coat, put it
+on the wondering youngster, and ran away home as fast as he could. His
+aunt questioned him, and upon finding out the true circumstances of the
+case, and not wishing to damp the kind spirit in the little fellow's
+heart, said:--
+
+"'Well, we'll go and try to find the boy you gave it to, and buy your
+jacket back.'
+
+"Fortunately the search was successful, and the coat was bought back for
+no less a sum than half-a-sovereign.
+
+"And in later years it was just the same with Tom. He could never pass
+by a common cookshop, in front of the windows of which was often a crowd
+of men, women, and children, looking on with longing eyes, without
+getting them inside and giving them a fill to their hearts' content.
+When out driving it was no different. He would stop the horse, and have
+all the watching hungry ones inside, and the next moment they would be
+revelling in the satisfying properties of thick slices of plum-pudding
+and roast beef."
+
+The house throughout is most artistic. Mr. Kendal is a painter of great
+merit, and he "knows" a picture as soon as he sees it. Pictures are his
+hobby; hence there is not a room in the house--even to the
+kitchen--which does not find a place for some canvas, etching, or
+engraving. The entrance-hall is at once striking, with its quaint
+thirteenth century furniture, bronzes, and Venetian ware. There are some
+fine engravings of Miss Brunton--who became Countess of Craven--Kemble,
+Garrick, Phelps, and Mrs. Siddons. A picture of Mrs. Kendal in "The
+Falcon" was done at the express wish of, and paid for by, the late Poet
+Laureate. Tennyson said it reminded him of a woman he liked and admired.
+In the shadow is a fine bust of Macready, given by the great actor to
+the father of Mrs. Kendal; resting against the fireplace on either side
+are the two lances used in "The Queen's Shilling," and close by are two
+huge masks representing a couple of very hirsute individuals. They came
+from California, and represent "The King of the Devils" and "The King of
+the Winds."
+
+[Illustration: THE HALL. (_From a Photo, by Elliott & Fry._)]
+
+[Illustration: THE DINING ROOM. (_From a Photo, by Elliott & Fry._)]
+
+The entrance to the dining-room is typical of all the other door
+decoration in the house--a carving of cream enamel of beautiful design
+and workmanship. The walls of this apartment are terra-cotta, with a
+finely carved oak-panelling. It is a little treasure room of canvases,
+the gem of which is probably C. Van Hannen's "Mask Shop in Venice"--a
+painter of a school which Luke Fildes, R.A., has done so much to
+popularize. Macbeth is represented by a couple of delightful efforts,
+and there are samples of the skill of Eugene Du Blas, Crofts, John Reid,
+Andriotti, Sadler, De Haas, Rivers; a grand landscape by Webb--nearly
+all of which are Academy works. The decorative articles are as artistic
+as in some cases they are peculiar. Running about above the oaken
+fireplace, amongst choice bronzes and blue ware, and a black boy who is
+trudging along with a very useful clock on his back, are many quaint
+animals of polished brass--even mice are not missing, with wonderfully
+long tails--that sparkle and glisten in the firelight. Ascending the
+staircase you find etchings after Alma Tadema, Briton Riviere, and
+others; the walls are covered with them.
+
+[Illustration: SCENE FROM "THE SQUIRE." _From the Picture by Mr.
+Kendal._]
+
+Here are a series of delightful pictures showing Mr. and Mrs. Kendal in
+Gilbert's "Sweethearts," and I am reminded that the gifted actor and
+actress were the first to appear before the Queen after a period of
+five-and-twenty years, during which Her Majesty had never seen a play,
+the performance that night consisting of "Sweethearts" and Theyre
+Smith's "Uncle's Will." And as one takes note of many rare works--the
+bedroom is almost entirely given up to Doré's marvellous creations,
+though near the window is a splendid specimen of the photographer's art:
+a head of Miss Mary Anderson--one cannot fail to observe the family
+spirit everywhere--sometimes portraits of children, sometimes small and
+dainty pencil studies made of them by their father. Occasionally
+theatrical sketches by Mr. Kendal appear. Here are some of the principal
+members of the old St. James's Company, who used to give Mr. Kendal
+sittings between the acts--here a capital bit of artistic work depicting
+a scene from "The Squire," made from stray memorandums and with the aid
+of a looking-glass for securing the actor-artist's face.
+
+Leaving Mr. Kendal for a time, Mrs. Kendal and I returned to the
+drawing-room. It overlooks Harley Street and is a handsome two-roomed
+apartment, the prevailing tone of blue, cream, and gold harmonizing to
+perfection. It is positively one huge collection of curios.
+
+The screen at the far end is rather shuddery, not to say creepy, to
+those of nervous temperament. It is decorated with tomahawks of fearful
+and wonderful shapes and sizes, and other Indian implements of warfare.
+
+"These came from California," Mrs. Kendal explained. "No sooner are you
+out of the train than the Indians tomahawk you! Look at this bow and
+arrow."
+
+The pots of palms and ferns all hold American flags. These colours--the
+stars and stripes--once surmounted baskets of flowers and floral
+emblems--five, six, and even seven feet high--handed to Mrs. Kendal
+during her recent tour in the States; and amongst the sweetly-perfumed
+blossoms diamonds, pearls, and other precious gems have glistened in the
+shape of ornaments. A table near the window tells you of the generosity
+of the Americans. It is crowded with silver ornaments and mementos. You
+may handle the diminutive silver candlesticks to light "The Kendals"
+away--silver jugs, souvenir spoons, frying-pans, coffee-pots--all in
+miniature. This silver dollar is only one of a hundred. You touch a
+spring, when, lo and behold! the portrait of the donor appears. All
+American women have dainty feet. These little ebony and silver lasts for
+your boots remind you of this. On this table is a letter from the
+Princess of Wales, thanking Mrs. Kendal for "the lovely silver wedding
+bells and flowers which you so kindly sent me on the tenth." You may
+examine George IV.'s cigar-case--a silver tube in which the King was
+wont to carry a single cigar. It is impossible to number all the
+treasured odds and ends, but still more difficult to total up the
+miniature articles set out in a pair of cabinets.
+
+[Illustration: NAPOLEON'S WRITING-TABLE _From a Photo by Elliott &
+Fry._]
+
+[Illustration: "SHAKESPEARE AND BACON" _From the Picture by A. E.
+Emslie._]
+
+Mrs. Kendal has a hobby--it lies in the collecting of the tiniest of
+tiny things. If her intimate friends come across any curiosity
+particularly choice and small, it is at once snapped up and dispatched
+to Harley Street. I had some little leaden mice in my hand the size of
+half-a-dozen pins' heads. Handkerchiefs an inch square, babies' woollen
+shoes, pinafores, shirts, all of the tiniest, but perfectly made, with
+buttons and button-holes complete, and even buns with currants no bigger
+than a pin's point. Sheep, dogs, cats, monkeys, pigs, giraffes--in
+short, convert the entire Zoo into miniature china knick-knacks, and you
+have a considerable portion of Mrs. Kendal's collection realized. One
+must needs stand for a moment at Napoleon's writing-table, near which
+rests a characteristic clay by Van Beers. The pictures here are many.
+Millais' work is well represented by several etchings, and a remarkably
+clever thing by Emslie, entitled "Shakespeare and Bacon," suggests the
+two extremes of taste to a nicety. Whilst a young enthusiast is
+declaiming Shakespeare, one of his listeners--doubtless, equally
+enthusiastic, but with an eye for victuals--is interrupting a soliloquy
+with the remark: "Now! who says bacon?" Every portrait has a
+history--Prince and Princess Henry of Battenberg in their wedding
+garments, the late Duke of Albany, Professor Huxley, Mrs. Beecher
+Stowe, Mr. and Mrs. Pinero, Mr. and Mrs. Bancroft, and many others.
+Three suggestive pictures, however, cannot be passed by. This dear
+little fellow is the son of Mr. B. J. Farjeon. Mr. Farjeon married "Rip
+Van Winkle" Jefferson's daughter, and the youngster is pictured dressed
+in the tattered garments of merry, rollicking _Rip_. You know how _Rip_
+always drinks your health? He holds the glass of hollands high up and
+cries, "Here's your health and your family's good health, and may they
+all live long and prosper!" but Mr. Farjeon's little boy cries out,
+"Here's your health, and your family's good health, and may you all live
+long and _proper_!"
+
+[Illustration: GROUP IN CLAY BY JAN VAN BEERS.]
+
+[Illustration: MRS. KENDAL AS "GALATEA"]
+
+A photo, of Dr. Pancoast stands near a bust of Mrs. Kendal as _Galatea_,
+done when she was seventeen. Dr. Pancoast--a celebrated American
+physician--saved Mrs. Kendal's life when her maid accidentally
+administered a poisonous drug to her mistress. The poor girl herself
+nearly died of fright.
+
+But perhaps the portrait of the late Duchess of Cambridge, which Mrs.
+Kendal now holds in her hand, is more interesting than them all. "Her
+late Royal Highness," Mrs. Kendal said, "always addressed me and wrote
+to me as Mrs. Grimston. She was paralyzed in her right hand and wrote
+with her left; perhaps that is why this letter, written in pencil and
+with great effort, is treasured more than it otherwise would have been."
+
+It was one of the last letters written by Her Royal Highness. The
+letters and words were wonderfully legible; it read:--
+
+     "DEAR MRS. GRIMSTON,--One line only to thank you for sending me
+     the stalls for my dressers, who enjoyed your and Mr. Grimston's
+     charming acting immensely. My first deaf one was able to follow
+     perfectly, thanks to your having kindly let her have the book
+     previously. Again thanking you,
+
+    "I remain,
+
+        "Yours very sincerely,
+            AUGUSTA."
+
+
+
+And in a little cabinet in the far corner is a beautiful Sèvres bowl. In
+the bowl is a telegram from "Princess Mary," asking Mrs. Kendal to come
+to St. James's Palace at once. Written on a black-edged envelope were
+these words: "To dearest Mrs. Grimston Kendal. A little souvenir. Found
+amongst the last wishes of her late Royal Highness the Duchess of
+Cambridge."
+
+It is only just possible to hasten through the collection of substantial
+reminiscences which add to the charm of this corner of the house. The
+quaint white china hare was given to Mrs. Kendal many years ago by Mr.
+John Hare, when playing together at the Court. A curious but vividly
+suggestive idea of Japanese wit, in the shape of a couple of
+characteristically dressed figures, typifies "Health" and "Wealth"; the
+figure, representing "Health" has a countenance of the deepest red, the
+other a face all golden and as resplendent as the sun. In a small frame
+is the letter from the Goethe Club of New York, making Mrs. Kendal an
+honorary member. She is the only woman member of this club. And this
+pretty little doll dressed as a Quakeress--a charming compliment to the
+recipient--was presented by the Quakeresses of Philadelphia, who never,
+never, never go the play, yea, verily! So they sent this as a tribute of
+their admiration for the talents and character of the woman who has been
+called "The Matron of the Drama."
+
+[Illustration: MRS. KENDALL'S LITTLE QUAKERESS.]
+
+We sat down on a settee in front of the fire. The cushions were of white
+lawn marked with the initial "M.," and were worked by the late Lady
+Eglinton.
+
+Mrs. Kendal's happy and homely face is familiar to all. She has a truly
+tender and sympathetic expression there at all times. Her hair was once
+that of the fair one with golden locks, now it is of a rich brown
+colour--very neatly and naturally trimmed about her head. She is very
+kind--very motherly; just the woman you would single out in time of
+trouble and ask, "What would you advise me to do?" I gathered these
+impressions whilst listening to many things she said of which I need not
+write. Her views on theatrical life are strong, nay, severe. She is not
+afraid to speak, and she hits hard and sends her shots home. But you
+cannot mistake the earnestness of her manner, the true intent of her
+motives.
+
+"I am only a common-place woman," she said to me. "I used to be ever so
+light-hearted--now, I'm a morbid creature. Here we are sitting down by
+the fireside. I may tell you happy reminiscences that may make one
+merry, and all the time I should be thinking about--what? Cancer! I
+return to my dressing-room from the stage at night. As I am passing
+along a fellow player may turn to me and say, 'How well the play has
+gone to-night!' I am only thinking of those who have trod that same
+stage before me. What are they now? Dust--earth--worms!"
+
+I stirred the fire, and the bright glow from its burning embers lit up
+the corner where we sat. And we talked together.
+
+Margaret Brunton Robertson was born at Great Grimsby on March 15th,
+1849--curiously enough these lines will be read on the anniversary of
+her birthday. Her grandfather, father, and uncle were all actors.
+
+"I lived alone with my father and mother," she said, "and the only real
+recollection I have of my father is his fine white beard, which he grew
+towards the latter days of his life, and a little advice he once gave
+me.
+
+"'Always count twenty,' he said, 'when you are walking across the quay
+at Bristol, then you won't hear the sailors swear!' Yet he would use
+very bad language to me when he was teaching me my parts; for you know I
+commenced acting at a very early age. I was only three when I made my
+first appearance--and I ruined the play. It was at the Marylebone
+Theatre in the 'Three Poor Travellers,' and I was a blind child. My
+nurse was in the front row of the pit--that is, in the very first row,
+for there were no stalls. All I thought about was my new shoes--a very
+pretty, dainty little pair, and as soon as I stepped on the stage, I
+opened my eyes, caught sight of the delighted face of my nurse, and
+cried out:--
+
+"'Oh! nursey, dear, look at my new shoes!'
+
+"I played at Chute's Theatre in Bristol in many child's parts. When my
+father went to the wall over the Lincoln Circuit, Mr. Chute engaged him
+as an actor, and I went with him. I remember in 'A Midsummer Night's
+Dream'--I was _Mustard Seed_, I think, or _Peas Blossom_; at any rate,
+some small character that required very prettily dressing, and plenty of
+flowers on my little costume. I am as fond of flowers to-day as I was
+then. Well, when once I got on the stage in my pretty dress--of which I
+was particularly proud--before I would leave it, I had to be bought off
+with apples and oranges! There they would stand at the wings, and the
+price would go up--up--up--two oranges, three oranges, three oranges
+and two apples--until I inwardly murmured a childish equivalent for
+'sold,' and toddled off.
+
+"I acted _Eva_ in 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' when I was eight. I think I was
+always a sad child--I looked forty when I was fifteen. After little
+_Eva_ I used to play anything."
+
+And they were hard times for little Madge--she worked like the brave
+little woman she was. Her childish thoughts were constantly with her
+parents--how best could she add to the weekly income. And this is what
+the same little Madge would do. Night after night, after playing in a
+serious piece, she would appear in burlesque, sing, dance, and crack her
+small jokes with the best of them. It was hard work that made her a
+woman--it was dearly-bought experience that gave birth to the
+sympathetic heart she has to-day.
+
+[Illustration: MRS. KENDAL. _From a Photo. by Bassano._]
+
+So at fourteen she was a woman grown--and at fifteen at Hull played
+_Lady Macbeth_ to Phelps's _Macbeth_!
+
+"I was dressed in my mother's clothes," Mrs. Kendal said, "and I fear I
+must have looked a fearful guy!"
+
+At rehearsal Phelps looked upon the young woman.
+
+"And who--who is this child?" asked the great actor.
+
+"Madge Robertson," the manager answered; "a rare favourite here. It was
+a choice between her and a very old woman, Mr. Phelps."
+
+"Then let the young woman play, by all means," Phelps said.
+
+What a night it was! At the end of the play they wanted her on again,
+but Phelps was obdurate. A party of men came round, and threatened to
+throw Phelps into the Humber! Phelps remained firm.
+
+"He was kindness itself through it all," Mrs. Kendal assured me, "and
+though I did not go on again, he proved his thoughtfulness a little
+later on by sending for me to play _Lady Teazle_. I played the leading
+parts during the three nights Phelps remained in Hull in 'The Man of the
+World,' 'Richelieu,' and 'Macbeth.' On July 29th, 1865, I made my
+_début_ in London, at the Haymarket, as _Ophelia_ to the _Hamlet_ of
+Walter Montgomery. Poor Montgomery! He was what you would call a
+'lady-killer'--very conceited, but, withal, very kind. He once wrote a
+letter to my father, and added a postscript, saying: 'Keep this letter.
+Should poverty fall upon you or yours, your great-grand-children may be
+able to sell it for a good sum of money!' I was only with him six
+weeks."
+
+The only play of her brother's in which Mrs. Kendal has appeared was
+"Dreams," when the Gaiety first opened. At this time the managers always
+tried to induce Mrs. Kendal to appear in a riding habit--a costume in
+which she looked strikingly handsome.
+
+"Alfred Wigan played in 'Dreams,'" continued Mrs. Kendal. "His wife was
+one of the kindest women I ever met. She gave me a gold bracelet for a
+very curious little service I used to render her husband every night. He
+had to sing a song in 'Dreams,' and one or two of the high notes were
+beyond his reach. I used to take these notes for him, and the audience
+never guessed the truth."
+
+"And have you not played _Desdemona_?" I asked.
+
+"Oh! yes--and to a real black man, and so he did not have to put his
+head up the chimney to make himself up for the part! His name was Ira
+Aldridge, and scandal said he was the dresser of some great actor whom
+he used to imitate. But he had very ingenious ideas as to the character
+of _Othello_. He thought him a brute, and played him as such. His great
+notion was to get the fairest woman possible for _Desdemona_--and I was
+selected, for at that time my hair was quite golden.
+
+"In one part of the play he would cry out, 'Give me thy hand,
+Desdemona!' and certainly the effect of my hand in his huge grasp was
+impressive. Then in the last act he would pull me from the couch by the
+hair of my head. Oh! there was something in his realism, I can tell
+you!"
+
+Miss Robertson made a great sensation when she appeared as _Blanche
+Dumont_, in Dr. Westland Marston's "Hero of Romance," when it was
+performed for the first time at the Haymarket Theatre, on March 14th,
+1868. Seventeen months after this, on August 7th, 1869, she was Madge
+Robertson no longer. On that day she was married to Mr. William Hunter
+Grimston, whose stage name is Kendal. It is a charming little story.
+
+It occurred at Manchester. Mr. Kendal and Miss Robertson were on tour
+with the elder Compton, and they were--sweethearts. A convenient time
+seemed to have arrived for their wedding day, for on the Thursday,
+Friday, and Saturday nights pieces were to be played in which neither of
+them would be required. This would mean a nice little honeymoon--and the
+two lovers would reappear on the Monday night. So the day was
+fixed--Thursday; the church chosen--St. Saviour's, Plymouth Grove; and
+the best man booked--Walter Gowing, who used to play under the name of
+Walter Gordon.
+
+Then bad news came. Compton's brother was taken ill, and he had to hurry
+away from Cottonopolis. Another play had to be put in the bill, both Mr.
+Kendal and Miss Robertson would be needed--for it was "As You Like It,"
+and the one would be wanted for _Orlando_ and the other for _Rosalind_.
+Still, the wedding was proceeded with on Thursday morning, quietly and
+happily, and in the evening husband and wife met on the stage in the
+Forest of Arden. There, with _Celia_ as the priest, amidst the leafy
+trees and grassy pathways, _Orlando_ turns to the merry _Celia_, and
+pointing to the far, far happier _Rosalind_, cries out:--
+
+"Pray thee, marry us!"
+
+"Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rosalind?"
+
+"I will."
+
+"Then," _Rosalind_ pertly remarks, "you must say, 'I take thee,
+Rosalind, for wife.'"
+
+"I take thee, Rosalind, for wife," said _Orlando_, earnestly.
+
+Then _Rosalind_ asked, "Now tell me how long you would have her after
+you have possessed her?"
+
+And _Orlando_ replied--both in the words of Shakespeare and in the
+language of his own heart--"For ever and a day!"
+
+That is the true story of the wedding of Mr. and Mrs. Kendal. It was a
+natural desire of each never to play apart from the other, and from that
+day they have never separated. For some seven years Mr. and Mrs. Kendal
+played at the Haymarket, under Buckstone's management, and the gifted
+actress merrily referred to the little jokes played on "Bucky" by some
+of the actors. He was stone deaf, and could only take his cues when to
+speak from the movements of his fellow-actors' lips, so they would annoy
+him by continuing the lip movement, and "Bucky" sometimes got "stuck."
+
+[Illustration: THE DRAWING-ROOM. _From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+Little need be said of Mrs. Kendal's subsequent work--her acting at the
+Court, the Prince of Wales's, and her labours at the St. James's, when,
+in 1881, she appeared there under the joint management of Mr. Kendal and
+Mr. Hare. Not only in this country has her name become fondly familiar
+in the homes of those who "go to the theatre" and those who "never
+would," but in America the artistic acting of herself and husband has
+been instantly and enthusiastically recognised.
+
+I left the drawing-room--pausing, before entering Mr. Kendal's study, to
+admire the aviary--a veritable home of song--and to notice one
+diminutive member of the feathered tribe in particular, who has been
+taught by Miss Grimston to perform tricks _ad lib._, in addition to
+giving forth the sweetest of notes.
+
+The study is a very delicate apartment in terra-cotta and gold--here and
+there are quaint blue china vases and many exquisite bronzes. The window
+in the recess where the table is--a typical study table, suggesting
+plenty of work--is of stained glass, the quartet of divisions
+representing the four seasons. A glance round the walls of this room at
+once reveals the substantial side of Mr. Kendal's artistic
+hobby--pictures. In this apartment there is nothing but water-colours,
+save a very clever pen-and-ink sketch by a New York artist, called "Six
+Months After Marriage," which Jefferson caught sight of at the New York
+Dramatic Bazaar, and reminded Mr. Kendal to "keep his eye on," and a
+portrait or two of Mrs. Kendal and the children. "Hetty Sorrell" at her
+butter pats, with her thoughts very far from the churning-pan, is a gem.
+"The Last of St. Bartholomew" is a magnificent bit of painting, and the
+Venetian views at once carry one back to the home of the merry gondolier
+and perfect moonlight nights. This picture of Salvini--who its possessor
+assured me was the finest tragedian he had ever seen--was painted by Mr.
+Kendal himself. The bookcase, running along opposite the window,
+contains many rare first editions, of which Mr. Kendal is a very
+persevering and successful collector, and a bound manuscript copy of
+every play produced by him, together with the original sketches for the
+scenery. You may look over the "Scrap of Paper," "The Falcon," "Queen's
+Shilling," "Ladies' Battle," "Clancarty," "The Ironmaster," "The Money
+Spinner," and "The Squire"--Pinero's play, of which somebody wrote that
+it wafted the scent of the new-mown hay across the footlights.
+
+[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF SALVANI, BY MR. KENDAL.]
+
+It is interesting to learn how Mr. Kendal first came across Pinero.
+
+"I only knew him as an actor at the Lyceum," he said, "and had never met
+him. He wrote and asked if we would let him read a play to us. As a rule
+we never do that; but, remembering that Pinero was himself a player, we
+made an exception. So it came about that one day, after a rehearsal, the
+actor playwright read his piece to us in the _foyer_ of the St. James's.
+We never expected anything at first, but the reading ended in our taking
+the play immediately, though we scarcely knew what we should do with it,
+seeing it was a two-act play. We found an opportunity, however, and you
+know the success it was. It was called 'The Money Spinner.'"
+
+Mr. Kendal is a striking-looking man--the very ideal of a picturesque
+soldier, with a constitution of steel. He talks to you frankly, easily,
+for there is not two penny-worth of presumption about him. He lives and
+labours very quietly--he enjoys his days, and a good cigar. He divides
+his talents between the stage and the brush. His pencil and palette have
+been with him in far-off places, and there is always a corner in his
+bag for them if he only travels twenty miles from Harley Street. His
+peculiarity of painting--so to speak--lies in the fact that he never
+fails to chronicle the view obtained from any hotel where he may be
+staying. He showed me a book full of these hasty impressions--all of
+which were most beautifully done--many of them he could only give ten
+minutes or a quarter of an hour to. Two of these I brought away for
+reproduction in these pages; they are both unfinished, however--the
+pencil reminders of certain little additions tell that.
+
+[Illustration: SKETCH FROM THE QUEEN's HOTEL, MANCHESTER, BY MR.
+KENDAL.]
+
+The first of these is a view of the Infirmary as seen from Mr. Kendal's
+window at the Queen's Hotel, Manchester; the second--done in a quarter
+of an hour--shows the way the Americans erect their buildings for
+exhibiting a cyclorama--popularly known here as a panorama. It was done
+from a back window in an hotel in Cleveland, U.S.A. The actor-artist
+never learnt drawing, save for a few hours' lessons he took at the Slade
+Schools under the tuition of Le Gros. He draws everything that impresses
+him--his painting memory is remarkable. He sees a man's face in the
+street, carries it home in his mind, and it will be very faithfully put
+on paper or canvas.
+
+We talked for a long time on "pictures"--he was so happy and earnest
+about it that it was some time before we made an attempt to tread the
+boards and get behind the footlights.
+
+Mr. Kendal--William Hunter Grimston--was born at Notting Hill, and just
+outside the sound of Bow Bells, on December 16th, 1843. His parents
+belonged to the Low Church, and their views of the theatre in general,
+and on adopting the stage as a profession in particular, will be readily
+understood. Mr. Kendal was intended for the Army--how he came to "go on"
+the stage is best told in his own words:
+
+"I had only been to three or four pantomimes previously," he said, "and
+one night--I was about eighteen years of age at the time--I found myself
+in the stalls of the old Soho Theatre, in Dean Street, Soho, now known
+as the Royalty Theatre. My paper and pencil were out, and I was busily
+engaged in making sketches of the various actors and actresses. The
+piece was 'Billie Taylor.' Suddenly I felt a gentle tap on the shoulder
+from behind. I turned round.
+
+"'Would you allow me to take those sketches round and show the 'parties'
+interested?' a gentleman asked.
+
+"'Certainly; with pleasure,' I replied.
+
+"'Perhaps you would like to come behind the scenes as well?'
+
+"It was just what I wanted, so I followed the person who had so kindly
+interested himself in my scribble. He proved to be Mr. Mowbray, the
+manager of the theatre. The picture behind the scenes that night was a
+perfect Elysium to me. I think Mowbray must have noticed the impression
+it made upon me, for he asked if I would like to go on the stage. I
+did--as a sort of super."
+
+[Illustration: SKETCH FROM HOTEL WINDOW, CLEVELAND, U.S.A., BY MR.
+KENDAL.]
+
+Mr. Kendal's first important engagement lasted four or five years at the
+Theatre Royal, Glasgow. Here he met and played with such people as Helen
+Faucit (Lady Martin), G. V. Brooke, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Kean, Dion
+Boucicault, Fechter, Miss Bateman (Mrs. Crowe), and the elder Sothern.
+When Sothern left, the accomplished young actor played _Dundreary_, and
+found himself straying in the footsteps of the famous originator of the
+part, even to the hop. One would have thought that people would have
+praised the actor for taking such a worthy example--but it displeased
+Tom Taylor, and he wrote very wrathfully. Then Mr. Kendal went to the
+Haymarket, met Miss Robertson, and from their wedding day their lives
+may be said to have been the same in thought, word, and deed.
+
+As an organizer and man of business his tact and judgment were tested
+and proved during his joint management of the St. James's with Mr. Hare
+in 1881. For some time previous to this Mr. Kendal had been on the
+look-out for a theatre, and his mind wandered towards the St. James's,
+but it required a large sum of money spending on it before it could be
+opened.
+
+"One night I was talking to Lord Newry at my club," said Mr. Kendal,
+"and happened to say that if £2,000 or so were spent on the St. James's
+I might feel inclined to take it.
+
+"'Suppose I spend that amount of money on the place, will you take it?'
+Lord Newry asked.
+
+"My only reply was that I would think about it. In the meantime I went
+to the Court, from there to the Prince of Wales's to play in
+'Diplomacy'--it ran a year--'Peril' and 'London Assurance.' Then I
+returned to the Court again, and during this time Lord Newry had
+practically gutted the old and unlucky St. James's, turned it inside
+out--John Hare, my wife and self entered, and we remained there nearly
+ten years."
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Kendal share the same opinion of America--it is the land of
+to-day, the land of the future. As to its theatres in comparison with
+ours, Mrs. Kendal--who had now joined us--was most enthusiastic. I had
+reached the pillars, from which hung curtains of intricate Japanese
+workmanship, leading to the hall. Victoria, the Jubilee dog, was barking
+a friendly "Good-bye," and the lusty throats of Miss Grimston's
+two-and-twenty canaries forced their sweet notes from a far-away room
+into the passage.
+
+"I will give you some idea of what an American theatre is like," said
+Mrs. Kendal. "You reach your destination by rail at some small place for
+a one-night stay. If it is raining and the ground is wet, men in long
+jack-boots catch hold of you and gallantly take you across the puddles.
+You do not see a soul about--and you are in fear and trembling as to
+where your night's audience is coming from. You get to your hotel, and
+then your next thought is--where is the theatre? You expect to find a
+little, uncomfortable, band-box of a place, and you set out to see it
+with a heavy heart. It is a palace--a marble palace--a positive poem!
+And your heart leaps happily--only to drop dull again, for you suddenly
+remember that you have seen--nobody, not even the oldest inhabitant. You
+turn to the manager.
+
+"'Yes, yes--but, what about an audience, how are you going to fill it?'
+you ask.
+
+"'Wall,' he replies, 'I don't trouble myself much about that. I reckon
+that every seat in this theatre is sold for to-night, that's all!'"
+
+    HARRY HOW.
+
+[Illustration: MR. KENDAL. _From a Photo. by Maurice Stephens,
+Harrogat._]
+
+
+
+
+"_Author! Author_!"
+
+BY E. W. HORNUNG.
+
+
+This story has to do with two men and a play, instead of a woman, and it
+is none of mine. I had it from an old gentleman I love: only he ought to
+have written it himself. This, however, he will never do; having known
+intimately in his young days one of the two men concerned. But I have
+his leave to repeat the story more or less as he told it--if I can. And
+I am going to him for my rebuke--when I dare.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"You want to hear the story of poor old Pharazyn and his play? I'm now
+going to tell it you.
+
+"Ah, well! My recollection of the matter dates from one summer's night
+at my old rooms in the Adelphi, when he spoilt my night's work by coming
+in flushed with an idea of his own. I remember banging the drawer into
+which I threw my papers to lock them away for the night; but in a few
+minutes I had forgotten my unfinished article, and was glad that
+Pharazyn had come. We were young writers, both of us; and, let me tell
+you, my good fellow, young writing wasn't in those days what it is now.
+I am thinking less of merit than of high prices, and less of high prices
+than of cheap notoriety. Neither of us had ever had our names before the
+public--not even in the advertised contents of an unread and unreadable
+magazine. No one cared about names in my day, save for the half-dozen
+great ones that were then among us; so Pharazyn's and mine never used to
+appear in the newspapers, though some of them used our stuff.
+
+"In a manner we were rivals, for we were writing the same sort of thing
+for the same sort of publications, and that was how we had come
+together; but never was rivalry friendlier, or mutually more helpful.
+Our parts were strangely complementary; if I could understand for the
+life of me the secret of collaboration, which has always been a mystery
+to me, I should say that I might have collaborated with Pharazyn almost
+ideally. I had the better of him in point of education, and would have
+turned single sentences against him for all he was worth; and I don't
+mind saying so, for there my superiority ended. When he had a story to
+tell, he told it with a swing and impetus which I coveted him, as well I
+might to this day; and if he was oftener without anything to write
+about, his ideas would pay twenty shillings in the pound, in strength
+and originality, where mine made some contemptible composition in pence.
+That is why I have been a failure at fiction--oh, yes, I have! That is
+why Pharazyn would have succeeded, if only he had stuck to plain
+ordinary narrative prose.
+
+[Illustration: "HE SKETCHED THE NEW STORY."]
+
+"The idea he was unable to keep within his own breast, on the evening of
+which I am telling you, was as new, and simple, and dramatic as any that
+ever intoxicated the soul of story-teller or made a brother author green
+with envy. I can see him now, as I watched him that night, flinging to
+and fro with his quick, nervous stride, while he sketched the new
+story--bit by bit, and often the wrong bit foremost; but all with his
+own flashing vividness, which makes me so sorry--so sorry whenever I
+think of it. At moments he would stand still before the chair on which I
+sat intent, and beat one hand upon the other, and look down at me with a
+grand, wondering smile, as though he himself could hardly believe what
+the gods had put into his head, or that the gift was real gold, it
+glittered so at first sight. On that point I could reassure him. My open
+jealousy made me admire soberly. But when he told me, quite suddenly, as
+though on an afterthought, that he meant to make a play of it and not a
+story, I had the solid satisfaction at that moment of calling him a
+fool.
+
+"The ordinary author of my day, you see, had a certain timorous respect
+for the technique of the stage. It never occurred to us to make light of
+those literary conventions which it was not our business to understand.
+We were behind you fellows in every way. But Pharazyn was a sort of
+forerunner: he said that any intelligent person could write a play, if
+he wanted to, and provided he could write at all. He said his story was
+a born play; and it was, in a way; but I told him I doubted whether he
+could train it up with his own hand to be a good-acting one. I knew I
+was right. He had neither the experience nor the innate constructive
+faculty, one or other of which is absolutely necessary for the writing
+of possible plays. I implored him to turn the thing into a good dramatic
+novel, and so make his mark at one blow. But no; the fatal fit was on
+him, and I saw that it must run its course. Already he could see and
+hear his audience laughing and crying, so he said, and I daresay he
+could also feel the crinkle of crisp weekly receipts. I only know that
+we sat up all night over it, arguing and smoking and drinking whisky
+until my windows overlooking the river caught the rising sun at an
+angle. Then I gave in. For poor old Pharazyn was more obstinate than
+ever, though he thanked me with the greatest good temper for my
+well-meant advice.
+
+"'And look here, my boy,' says he, as he puts on his hat, 'you shan't
+hear another word about this till the play's written; and you are to ask
+no questions. Is that a bargain? Very well, then. When I've finished
+it--down to the very last touches--_you_ shall come and sit up all night
+with _me_, and I'll read you every word. And by gad, old chap, if they
+give me a call the first night, and want a speech--and I see you sitting
+in your stall, like a blessed old fool as you are--by gad, sir, I'll
+hold up you and your judgment to the ridicule of the house, so help me
+never!'
+
+[Illustration: "I COULD SMELL HIS PIPE THROUGH THE KEYHOLE."]
+
+"Well, I am coming to that first night presently. Meanwhile, for the
+next six months, I saw very little of Pharazyn, and less still in the
+new year. He seldom came to my rooms now; when he did I could never get
+him to stay and sit up with me; and once when I climbed up to his garret
+(it was literally that), he would not answer me, though I could smell
+his pipe through the key-hole, in which he had turned the key. Yet he
+was perfectly friendly whenever we did meet. He said he was working very
+hard, and indeed I could imagine it; his personal appearance, which he
+had never cherished, being even untidier, and I am obliged to add
+seedier, than of old. He continued to send me odd magazines in which his
+stuff happened to appear, or occasionally a proof for one's opinion and
+suggestions; we had done this to each other all along; but either I did
+not think about it, or somehow he led me to suppose that his things were
+more or less hot from the pen, whereas many of mine had been written a
+twelvemonth before one saw them in type. One way or another, I gathered
+that he was at work in our common groove, and had shelved, for the
+present at all events, his proposed play, about which you will remember
+I had undertaken to ask no questions.
+
+"I was quite mistaken. One night in the following March he came to me
+with a haggard face, a beaming eye, and a stout, clean manuscript, which
+he brought down with a thud on my desk. It was the play he had sketched
+out to me eight or nine months before. I was horrified to hear he had
+been at work upon it alone from that night to this. He had written, so
+he said, during all this time, not another line, only each line of his
+play some ten times over.
+
+"I recollect looking curiously at his shabby clothes, and then reminding
+him that it was at his place, not mine, I was to have heard him read the
+play: and how he confessed that he had no chair for me there--that his
+room was, in fact, three parts dismantled--that he had sacrificed
+everything to the play, which was worth it. I was extremely angry. I
+could have helped him so easily, independent as I was of the calling I
+loved to follow. But there was about him always an accursed, unnecessary
+independence, which has since struck me--and I think I may say so after
+all these years--as the mark of a rather humble, very honest origin.
+
+"He read me the play, and I cried over the third act, and so did he. I
+thought then, and still think, that there was genius in that third
+act--it took you off your feet. And to me, certainly, it seemed as if
+the piece must act as well as it read, though indeed, as I took care to
+say and to repeat, my opinion was well-nigh valueless on that point. I
+only knew that I could see the thing playing itself, as I walked about
+the room (for this time I was the person who was too excited to sit
+still), and that was enough to make one sanguine. I became as
+enthusiastic about it as though the work were mine (which it never,
+never would or could have been), yet I was unable to suggest a single
+improvement, or to have so much as a finger-tip in the pie. Nor could I
+afterwards account for its invariable reception at the hands of
+managers, whose ways were then unknown to me. That night we talked only
+of one kind of reception. We were still talking when the sun came
+slanting up the river to my windows; you could hardly see them for
+tobacco-smoke, and we had emptied a bottle of whisky to the success of
+Pharazyn's immortal play.
+
+[Illustration: "HIS MANUSCRIPT RAGGED BUT UNREAD."]
+
+"Oh, those nights--those nights once in a way! God forgive me, but I'd
+sacrifice many things to be young again and feel clever, and to know the
+man who would sit up all night with me to rule the world over a bottle
+of honest grog. In the pale light of subsequent revelations I ought,
+perhaps, to recall such a night, with that particular companion,
+silently and in spiritual ashes. But it is ridiculous, in my opinion, to
+fit some sort of consequence to every little insulated act; nor will I
+ever admit that poor Pharazyn's ultimate failing was in any appreciable
+degree promoted or prepared for by those our youthful full-souled
+orgies. I know very well that afterwards, when his life was spent in
+waylaying those aforesaid managers, in cold passages, on stage
+doorsteps, or, in desperation, under the public portico on the street;
+and when a hundred snubs and subterfuges would culminate in the return
+of his manuscript, ragged but unread: I know, and I knew then, that the
+wreck who would dodge me in Fleet Street, or cut me in the Strand, had
+taken to his glass more seriously and more steadily than a man should.
+But I am not sure that it matters much--_much_, you understand me--when
+that man's heart is broken.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"The last words I was ever to exchange with my poor old friend keep
+ringing in my head to this day, whenever I think of him; and I can
+repeat them every one. It was some few years after our intimacy had
+ceased, and when I only knew that he had degenerated into a Fleet Street
+loafer of the most dilapidated type, that I caught sight of him one day
+outside a theatre. It was the theatre which was for some years a
+gold-mine to one Morton Morrison, of whom you may never have heard; but
+he was a public pet in his day, I can tell you, and his day was just
+then at its high noon. Well, there stood Pharazyn, with his hands in his
+pockets and a cutty-pipe sticking out between his ragged beard and
+moustache, and his shoulders against the pit door, so that for once he
+could not escape me. But he wouldn't take a hand out of his pocket to
+shake mine; and when I asked him how he was, without thinking, he
+laughed in my face, and it made me feel cruel. He was dreadfully
+emaciated, and almost in rags. And as I wondered what I ought to do, and
+what to say next, he gave a cough, and spat upon the pavement, and I
+could see the blood.
+
+[Illustration: "THERE STOOD PHARAZYN."]
+
+"I don't know what you would have done for him--but for all I knew what
+had brought him to this, I could think of nothing but a drink. It was
+mid-winter, and I tell you the man was in rags. I felt that if I could
+get him to a bar he might eat something, too, and that I should get a
+hold of him this time which I would never again let go. Judge of my
+surprise when he flatly refused to come with me even for a drink.
+
+"'Can't you see? he said in his hollow voice. 'There'll be a crowd here
+directly, and I want the best seat in the pit--the best in the house.
+I've been going dry for it these two days, and I'm going dry till I've
+seen the piece. No, I've been here an hour already, and there's three
+hours more, I know; but I'm not going to risk it, thanks all the same.'
+
+"By this I had remembered that Morton Morrison was to re-open that night
+with a new piece. Indeed, I ought not to have forgotten that, seeing
+that I had my order about me somewhere, and it meant a column from my
+pen between twelve and one that night. But this sudden, sorry meeting
+had put all other thoughts out of my head.
+
+"'My dear fellow,' I said, with a sort of laugh, 'are you a
+first-nighter, too?'
+
+"'Only at this theatre.'
+
+"He looked me queerly in the face.
+
+"'You admire Morrison very much?'
+
+"'I love him!'
+
+"I suppose my eyes thawed him, though God knows how hard I was trying
+not to hurt him with pitying looks. At all events he began to explain
+himself of his own accord, very impetuously; indeed I rather think the
+outburst was purely involuntary.
+
+"'Look here,' he said, with his hoarse voice lowered: 'I hoped never to
+see your face again. I hoped you'd never see mine. But now you are here,
+don't go this minute, and I'll tell you why I think so much of Morton
+Morrison. I don't know him, mind you--he doesn't know me from Adam--but
+once long ago I had something to do with him. And God bless him, but
+damn every other manager in London, for he was the only one of the lot
+that gave me a civil hearing and a kind word!'
+
+"I knew what he was talking about, and he knew that I knew, for we had
+understood one another in the old days.
+
+"'I took it to him last of all,' he went on, wiping his damp lips with
+his hand. 'When I began hawking it about he was an unknown man; when his
+turn came he was here. He let me read it to him. Then he asked me to
+leave it with him for a week; and when I went back to him, he said what
+they had all said--that it would never act! But Morton Morrison said it
+nicely. And when he saw how it cut me up, into little bits, he got me to
+tell him all about everything; and then he persuaded me to burn the
+play, instead of ruining my life for it; and I burnt it in his
+dressing-room fire, but the ruin was too far gone to mend. I wrote that
+thing with my heart's blood--old man, you know I did! And none of them
+would think of it! My God! But Morrison was good about it--he's a good
+soul--and that's why you'll see me at every first night of his until the
+drink finishes its work.'
+
+"I had not followed him quite to the end. One thing had amazed me too
+much.
+
+"'You burnt your play,' I could only murmur, 'when it would have turned
+into such a novel! Surely you have some draft of it still?'
+
+"'I burnt the lot when I got home,' Pharazyn replied; 'and by-and-by I
+shall join 'em and burn too!'
+
+"I had nothing to answer to that, and was, besides, tenacious of my
+point. 'I don't think much of the kindness that makes one man persuade
+another to burn his work and throw up the sponge,' said I, with a good
+deal of indignation, for I did feel wroth with that fellow Morrison--a
+bread-and-butter drawing-room actor, whose very vogue used to irritate
+me.
+
+[Illustration: "WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THIS?"]
+
+"'Then what do you think of this?' asked Pharazyn, as he dipped a hand
+within his shabby coat, and cautiously unclenched it under my nose.
+
+"'Why, it's a five-pound note!'
+
+"'I know; but wasn't _that_ kind, then?'
+
+"'So Morrison gave you this!' I exclaimed.
+
+"Two or three persons had stopped to join us at the pit door, and
+Pharazyn hastily put the note back in his pocket. As he did so, his
+dreadfully shabby condition gave my heart a fresh cut.
+
+"'Are you never going to spend that?' I asked in a whisper; and in a
+whisper he answered:--
+
+"'Never! It is all my play has brought me--all. It was given me as a
+charity, but I took it as my earnings--my earnings for all the work and
+waiting, and blood and tears, that one thing cost me. Spend it? Not I!
+It will bury me as decently as I deserve.'
+
+"We could converse no more. And the presence of other people prevented
+me from giving him my overcoat, though I spoke of it into his ear,
+begging and imploring him to come away and take it while there was still
+time for him to clip back and get a seat in the front row. But he would
+not hear of it, and the way he refused reminded me of his old stubborn
+independence; all I got was a promise that he would have a bite with me
+after the performance. And so I left him in the frosty dusk, ill-clad
+and unkempt, with the new-lit lamp over the pit door shining down upon
+the haggard mask that had once been the eager, memorable face of my
+cleverest friend.
+
+"I saw him next the moment I entered the theatre that evening, and I
+nodded my head to him, which he rebuked with the slightest shake of his
+own. So I looked no more at him before the play began, comprehending
+that he desired me not to do so. The temptation, however, was too strong
+to go on resisting, for while Pharazyn was in the very centre of the
+front row in the pit, I was at one end of the last row of the stalls;
+and I was very anxious about him, wanting to make sure that he was there
+and not going to escape me again, and nervous of having him out of my
+sight for five minutes together.
+
+"Thus I know more about the gradual change which came over Pharazyn's
+poor face, as scene followed scene, than of the developments and merits
+of those scenes themselves. My mind was in any case running more on my
+lost friend than on the piece; but it was not till near the end of the
+first act that the growing oddity of his look first struck me.
+
+"His eyebrows were raised; it was a look of incredulity chiefly; yet I
+could see nothing to impale for improbability in the play as far as it
+had gone. I was but lightly attending, for my own purposes, as you
+youngsters skim your betters for review; but thus far the situation
+struck me as at once feasible and promising. Also it seemed not a little
+familiar to me; I could not say why, for watching Pharazyn's face. And
+it was his face that told me at last, in the second act. By God, it was
+his own play!
+
+"It was Pharazyn's play, superficially altered all through, nowhere
+substantially; but the only play for me, when I knew that, was being
+acted in the front row of the pit, and not on the stage, to which I had
+turned the side of my head. I watched my old friend's face writhe and
+work until it stiffened in a savage calm; and watching, I thought of the
+'first night' he had pictured jovially in the old days, when the bare
+idea of the piece was bursting his soul; and thinking, I wondered
+whether it could add a drop to his bitterness to remember that too.
+
+"Yet, through all my thoughts, I was listening, intently enough, now.
+And in the third act I heard the very words my friend had written: they
+had not meddled with his lines in the great scene which had moved us
+both to tears long ago in my rooms. And this I swear to, whether you
+believe it or no--that at the crisis of that scene, which was just as
+Pharazyn made it, the calm ferocity transfiguring his face died away all
+at once, and I saw it shining with the sweetest tears our eyes can
+shed--the tears of an artist over his own work.
+
+"And when the act was over he sat with his head on his hand for some
+minutes, drinking in the applause, as I well knew; then he left his seat
+and squeezed out on my side of the house, and I made sure he was coming
+to speak to me over the barrier; and I got up to speak to him; but he
+would not see me, but stood against the barrier with a mien as white and
+set as chiselled marble.
+
+"What followed on the first fall of the curtain I shall relate as
+rapidly as it happened. Louder call for an author I never heard, and I
+turned my eyes to the stage in my intense curiosity to see who would
+come forward; for the piece had been brought out anonymously; and I
+divined that Morrison himself was about to father it. And so he did; but
+as the lie passed his lips, and in the interval before the applause--the
+tiny interval between flash and peal--the lie was given him in a roar of
+fury from my left; there fell a thud of feet at my side, and Pharazyn
+was over the barrier and bolting down the gangway towards the stage. I
+think he was near making a leap for the footlights and confronting
+Morrison on his own boards; but the orchestra came between, and the
+fiddlers rose in their places. Then he turned wildly to us pressmen, and
+I will say he had our ear, if not that of the whole house besides, for
+the few words he was allowed to utter.
+
+"'Gentlemen!' he cried at the top of his voice--'Gentlemen, I'm one of
+you! I'm a writing man like yourselves, and I wrote this play that
+you've seen. That man never wrote it at all--I wrote it myself! That man
+has only altered it. I read it to him two years ago--two years ago,
+gentlemen! He kept it for a week, and then got me to burn it as
+rubbish--when he had made a copy of it! And he gave me this,
+gentlemen--he gave me this that I give him back!'
+
+"It was a matter of only a few seconds, but not till my own last hour
+shall I forget Morrison's painted face on the stage, or that sweating
+white one beneath the boxes; or the fluttering from Pharazyn's poor
+fingers of the five-pound note he had treasured for two years; or the
+hush all over the house until the first hand was laid upon his dirty
+collar.
+
+"'What!' he screamed, 'do none of you believe me? Will none of you stand
+by me--isn't there a man--not one man among you----'
+
+"And they threw him out with my name on his lips. And I followed, and
+floored a brute who was handling him roughly. And nothing happened to
+me--because of what happened to Pharazyn!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The dear old boy sat silent, his grey head on his hand. Presently he
+went on, more to himself than to me: "What could I do? What proof had I?
+He had burnt them every one. And as long as the public would stand him,
+Morrison kept his good name at least. And that play was his great
+success!"
+
+[Illustration: "HE GAVE ME THIS."]
+
+I ventured gently to inquire what had happened to Pharazyn.
+
+"He died in my arms," my old friend cried, throwing up his head with an
+oath and a tear. "He died in a few minutes, outside the theatre. I could
+hear them clapping after he was dead--clapping his piece."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Zig Zags at the Zoo: Conkavian
+
+
+If the gentle reader, full of a general desire for knowledge and a
+particular enthusiasm for natural history, will refer to any one of the
+great standard works on birds, and, turning to the index, seek for the
+family title of the Conkaves, I have every hope and confidence that he
+will not find it; because, as a matter of fact, it is a little invention
+of my own, and, I may modestly urge, rather a neat thing in scientific
+nomenclature, on the whole. It has the advantage of including in one
+family the storks and the pelicans, which in all orthodox books on birds
+are planted far apart and out of sight of each other, with many orders,
+tribes, and families between. Under my title they are gathered amicably
+together in the common possession of very long bills, like two tailors
+on a man's doorstep. The word is derived, in the proper and regular
+manner, from ancient sources; from _conk_, a venerable Eastern word,
+signifying a nose or beak, and the Latin _avis_, a bird. And I offer
+the term freely as my humble, but I trust useful, contribution to
+science; my first contribution.
+
+The stork is regarded, in many countries, with a certain
+semi-superstitious reverence and esteem. After many prolonged and
+serious attempts to saturate myself with a similar feeling, I regret to
+confess to a certain smallness of esteem for the stork. You can't esteem
+a bird that makes ugly digs at your feet and heels with such a very big
+beak. Out in their summer quarters the storks are kept in by close wire,
+and close wire will give an air of inoffensiveness to most things. But,
+away in a by-yard, with a gate marked "private," there stands a shed
+wherein the storks are kept warm in winter, behind wooden bars; and
+between these bars stork-heads have a way of dropping at the toes of the
+favoured passer-by, like to action of a row of roadmen's picks.
+
+[Illustration: PICKS AND CHEWS.]
+
+The stork has come off well in the matter of bodily endowment. The
+pelican has a tremendous beak--achieved, it would seem, by a skimping of
+material in the legs; but the stork has the tremendous beak and legs of
+surprising growth as well. His wings, too, are something more than
+respectable. At flying, at eating, at portentous solemnity of
+demeanour--in all these and in other things the pelican and the stork
+score fairly evenly; but at walking the pelican is left behind at once.
+This makes one suspect the stork's honesty. The pelican has a good beak
+and wings, and pays for them, like an honest bird, out of its legs, just
+as the ostrich pays for its neck and legs out of its wings. But the
+stork is abnormally lucky in beak, neck, legs, and wings together, and
+even then has material left to lay out in superfluous knobs and wens to
+hang round its neck, which leads to a suspicion that many of its
+personal fittings belong properly to some other bird. I've a notion that
+the unlucky kiwi might identify some of the property.
+
+[Illustration: THE PELICAN LEFT.]
+
+[Illustration: ARMY.]
+
+Perhaps the adjutant should be acknowledged king of the conkavians.
+Billy, the Zoo adjutant, has, I believe, no doubt on the subject at all.
+Billy is an ornament to the military profession--a very fine fellow,
+with a thing on the back of his neck like a Tangerine orange, and a wen
+on the front of it, which he can blow out whenever he wants to amuse
+himself, and everything else handsome about him. He is an old soldier,
+too, is Billy, having been Adjutant of the Regent's Park Conkavian Corps
+for seventeen years; but if you knew nothing of his age, still you would
+call Billy an old soldier--upon a little acquaintance with his habits.
+
+[Illustration: LAW.]
+
+There seems no valid reason why the professional aspirations of the
+stork should be restricted to the army. If an adjutant, why not a dean?
+Why not a proctor? There is the making of a most presentable don about a
+stork; and I have caught a stork in an attitude of judicial meditation
+that might do honour to any bench. There is no reason why "sober as a
+judge" should not be made to read "sober as a stork," except that the
+stork is the more solemn creature of the two; and I think that some
+species of stork--say the marabou, for instance--might fairly claim
+brevet rank as judge, after the example of the adjutant. The elevation
+of a beak to the bench might be considered an irregular piece of legal
+procedure; but, bless you, it's nothing unusual with a stork. Put any
+bench with something to eat on it anywhere within reach of a stork's
+beak in this place, and you shall witness that same elevation, precedent
+or no precedent.
+
+[Illustration: UNIVERSITIES.]
+
+A common white stork hasn't half the solid gravity of an adjutant or a
+marabou. He has a feline habit of expressing his displeasure by blowing
+and swearing--a habit bad and immoral in a cat, but worse in a stork
+accustomed to Church. Church, by-the-bye, is the keeper of all the
+conkavians, as well as of the herons, the flamingoes, the ibises, the
+egrets, and a number of other birds with names more difficult to spell.
+It is impossible to treat disrespectfully a man with such widespread
+responsibilities as this, or there might be a temptation to mention that
+he is not an unusually high Church, although his services are not always
+simple, often involving a matter of doctorin'. But, then, some people
+will say anything, temptation or none. And after all, it is pleasant to
+know that, whatever a stork or a pelican wants, he always goes to
+Church.
+
+[Illustration: SWEARING.]
+
+[Illustration: CHURCH.]
+
+This being the case, there is a proverb about cleanliness that makes one
+wonder why the marabou stork doesn't wash himself. It isn't as though he
+never wanted it. I have a horrible suspicion about this philosophic old
+sloven. I believe his profession of philosophic contemplation is
+assumed, because it is the easiest excuse for indolence. Now, a pelican
+is not a bird of graceful outline, but he _is_ careful about his
+feathers. The pelican is a scrupulous old Dutchman, and the stork is an
+uncleanly old Hindu. And uncleanly he must be left, for it takes a deal
+to shame a stork. You can't shame a bird that wraps itself in a
+convenient philosophy. "Look here--look at me!" you can imagine a
+pelican cleanliness-missionary saying to the stork. "See how white and
+clean I keep all my feathers!" "Um," says the stork, "it only makes 'em
+a different colour." "But observe! I just comb through my pinions with
+my beak, so, and they all lie neat and straight!" "Well, and what's the
+good of that?" grunts the stork. "And then you see," says the pelican,
+ignoring the question, "with a good long beak you can reach everywhere,
+over your back and under your wings; see, I'm as clean under my wings as
+anywhere else, although it's covered up!" "Beastly vanity," growls the
+old Hindu, getting bored. "Then," continues the Dutchman, "you give
+yourself a good shake, and there you are!" "And then," says the
+philosopher sarcastically, "to-morrow, I suppose, you'll have to do it
+all over again?" "Of course!" "Oh! I hate a fool!" says the stork, and
+closes the lecture.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Thus the marabou. The ordinary white stork is comparatively respectable,
+and so is the adjutant--or comparatively almost respectable, let us say;
+you can't be too cautious in giving a personal character to a stork.
+For long, long, the stork has enjoyed a reputation for solemn wisdom,
+for philosophical dignity. Now for the first time I venture to question
+this reputation--to impeach the stork as a humbug. It is easy to achieve
+a reputation for profound and ponderous wisdom, so long as one looks
+very solemn and says nothing. This is the stork's recipe. Go up to Billy
+here, or one of the marabous, as he stands with his shoulders humped up
+about his head, and make a joke. He won't see it. He will lift his
+eyebrows with a certain look of contempt, and continue to
+cogitate--about nothing. If the joke is a very bad pun--such a frightful
+pun that even a stork will see and resent it--perhaps he will chatter
+his beak savagely, with a noise like the clatter of the lid on an empty
+cigar-box; but he will continue his sham meditations. "Ah, my friend,"
+he seems to say, "you are empty and frivolous--I cogitate the profounder
+immensities of esoteric cogibundity." The fact being that he is very
+seedy after his previous night's dissipation.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+That is the chief secret of the stork's solemnity, I am convinced. He
+has a certain reputation to maintain before visitors, but after hours,
+when the gates are shut and the keepers are not there to see, the
+marabou stork is a sad dog. I haven't quite made up my mind what he
+drinks, but if he has brandies and sodas he leaves out too much soda.
+Look at that awful nose! It is long past the crimson and pimply
+stage--it is taking a decided tinge of blue. It _looks_ worse than
+brandy and soda--almost like bad gin--but we will be as charitable as
+possible, and only call it brandy and soda.
+
+I should like to see the marabou stork on his nightly ran-tan, if only
+to gloat over his lapse of dignity, just as one would give much to see
+Benjamin Franklin with his face blacked, drunk and disorderly and being
+locked up. But, as a shocking example, the marabou is quite bad enough
+with his awful head in the morning; his awful head and his disreputable
+nose, that looks to want a good scraping. I respect Billy, the adjutant,
+for his long service and the Tangerine at the back of his neck. The
+ordinary stork (although he swears and snaps) I also respect, because
+the goody books used to tell pious lies about him. The whale-headed
+stork, which is also called the shoe-bird, I respect as a sort of
+relative of the shoo-fly that didn't bother somebody. But the marabou
+has forfeited all respect--converted it into nose-tint. I must talk to
+Church seriously about the marabou.
+
+[Illustration: THE RAN-TAN.]
+
+Now, the pelican is no humbug. There is nothing like concealment about
+his little dissipations; and he is perfectly sober. Any little
+irregularity at the pelican club just opposite the eastern aviary never
+goes beyond a quiet round or two for a little fish dinner. It is quite a
+select and a most proper club. Indeed, the first rule is, that if any
+loose fish be found on the club premises, he is got rid of at once by
+the first member who detects him. And the club spirit is such that
+disputes frequently occur among members for the honour of carrying out
+this salutary rule. The chairman of the club is an old crested pelican,
+who, by some oversight, has never been provided with a private name of
+his own. I think he should be called Peter, because he can take such a
+miraculous draught of fishes. It _is_ a draught; you know--a pelican
+doesn't eat fishes--he drinks them down in bulk. For Peter, a dozen or
+so fresh herrings is a mere swill round of the mouth.
+
+[Illustration: A QUIET ROUND OR TWO.]
+
+Peter walks about the club premises with much dignity, deferred to on
+all sides by the other members. His kingship is rarely disputed, having
+been achieved by the sort of conquest most familiar in the pelican club;
+and his divine right is as much respected as his tremendous left.
+
+A pelican never bears malice; he hasn't time, especially now, with
+competition so keen in the fish business, and Church's fish pails only
+of the ordinary size. There is never any ill-feeling after a little
+spar, and each proceeds, in the most amicable way, to steal some other
+pelican's fish. A spar at this club, by-the-bye, is a joyous and
+hilarious sight. Two big birds with stumpy legs and top-heavy beaks,
+solemnly prancing and manoeuvring before one another with an
+accompaniment of valiant gobbles and a punctuation of occasional
+pecks--a gleesome spectacle.
+
+[Illustration: PETER.]
+
+[Illustration: A SWILL ROUND.]
+
+Another sport much exhibited at the pelican club is that of
+the broadsword. The school of fence is that of Mr. Vincent
+Crummies--one--two--three--four--over; one--two--three--four--under.
+You see, when a dozen or two birds with beaks a couple of feet long or
+so get together in a small area, and now and again rush all in the same
+direction for fish, fencing is certain to develop, sooner or later. So
+here you have it, _secundum artem_--one--two--three--four--over;
+one--two--three--four--under; and although none have yet attained the
+Crummleian degree of knocking out sparks, there is a deal of hollow
+noise, as of thumping on a wooden box. But there is never any
+after-malice, and in less than five minutes either combatant will
+swallow a fish rightfully belonging to the other, with perfect
+affability.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+There is a good deal of the philosopher about the pelican, and of a more
+genuine sort than characterizes the stork. The pelican always makes the
+best of a bad job, without going into an unnecessary tantrum over it. If
+another member of the club snatches a fish first, the pelican doesn't
+bother, but devotes his attention to the next that Church throws; a fish
+in the pouch is worth a shoal in somebody else's. Now and again Peter
+loses his temper for a moment if the others catch the first snack, and
+lays about him with his bill--but then, when a fellow's chairman, and a
+lot of other fellows come snatching the lunch from under his nose--why,
+hang it all, you know.... But it is only for a moment, and Peter is soon
+in position for the next pouchful. He is artful about this position.
+When Church appears at the rails with a pailful of fish most of the
+members rush to those rails, jostle together and shove their beaks
+through them and over them--any way to get nearer the pail. But the
+chairman knows very well that Church doesn't throw the fish outside the
+rails, but into the inclosure, somewhere near the middle; and near the
+middle the sagacious Peter waits, to his early profit--unless Church is
+unusually slow about throwing the fish, in which case Peter is apt to
+let his excitement steal his sagacity, and to rush into the pell-mell,
+anxious to investigate the delay.
+
+[Illustration: A LITTLE SOLEING AND HEELING.]
+
+There is a deal of excellent wear in a pelican. One has been here about
+thirty years, and two more have been established on the same premises
+for a quarter of a century. All these three are in capital working
+repair and will probably last, with a patch or two, and a little soleing
+and heeling, for a century or two more; no respectable pelican is ever
+bowled out for less than three figures.
+
+In the winter the club takes up its quarters in the shed behind the
+inclosure; a shed sumptuously furnished with certain benches and forms,
+whereon the club stands in rows, with a general appearance of a number
+of very solemn naughty boys in a Board school. In winter, too, Church
+will often put his bucketful of fish on the ground, so that the club may
+dine in a clubbier way. But whether you watch this club feeding together
+from the pail, each member doing his best to put away the whole pailful
+at a gulp, or whether you observe them playing a sort of greedy game of
+lacrosse with fish which Church throws them, you will be equally amazed
+that the pelican was used as a symbol of charity and brotherly love in
+early and middle Christian art.
+
+[Illustration: SCHOOL.]
+
+[Illustration: CLUB DINNER.]
+
+I have seen a pelican enact a most instructive moral lesson at a
+pail-dinner. Observe the bill and pouch of a pelican. The pouch is an
+elastic fishing-net, and the lower mandible is a mere flexible frame to
+carry it. Now, I have observed a pelican to make a bounce at the
+fish-pail, with outspread wings, and scoop the whole supply. But then
+his trouble began. The whole catch hung weightily low in the end of the
+pouch, and jerk and heave as he might, he could never lift the load at
+the end of that long beak sufficiently high to bolt it. Meanwhile, his
+friends collected about him and remonstrated, with many flops and
+gobbles, betting him all his fish to nothing that he would lose it after
+all; this way they chased that bag, and that way, while the bagger, in
+much trepidation and with many desperate heaves, wildly sought remote
+corners away from his persecutors. Now, by the corner of the club
+premises stands an appliance, the emblem of authority, the instrument of
+justice, and the terror of the evilly-disposed pelican--a birch-broom.
+This, brandished in the hands of Church, caused a sudden and awful
+collapse of the drag-nets, an opening, a shower of fish and many snaps;
+wherefrom walked away many pelicans with fish, and one with none, who
+had looked to take all. The moral is plain to the verge of ugliness.
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+A pelican has no tongue--or none to speak of. It is a mere little knob
+scarcely the size of a cherry. The long, long meditations of the pelican
+(lasting between feeding times) are given up to consideration whether or
+not the disgrace of this deficiency is counter-balanced by the greater
+capacity for fish which it gives the pouch. After all, it is only
+another instance of that commercial honesty which makes the pelican pay
+for his beak out of his legs; he gives his tongue for a pouch. There
+should be a legend of the pelican applying honestly to Adam to buy a
+pouch, and the wily stork waiting and waiting on the chance of snatching
+one without paying for it, until all had been served out; afterwards
+living all its life on earth in covetous dudgeon, unconsoled by its
+wealth of beak, legs, wings, and neck, and pining hopelessly for the
+lost pouch. There are many legends of this sort which ought to exist,
+but don't, owing to the negligence of Indian solar myth merchants, or
+whoever it is has charge of that class of misrepresentation.
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+The pelican can fly, although you would never believe it, to look at the
+club members here. To a Zoo pelican a flight of two feet is an
+undertaking to be approached with much circumspection and preparation,
+and a summoning of resolution and screwing of courage proper to the
+magnitude of the feat. It takes a long time to learn to fly on to a
+bottom-up bucket. The Zoo pelican begins on a shadow--not a very dark
+one at first--and works his way up by jumping over, darker shadows to
+straws and pebbles, before he tries a bucket. The accomplished
+bucket-jumper makes a long preliminary survey and circumnavigation of
+his bucket before performing, and when he does begin it is with a number
+of wild rushes and irresolute stops. When at last he gets the proper
+length of run, and the right foot in front, and doesn't see anything to
+baulk him, he rises with a great effort, and all the lookers-on who
+don't know him stare up over the trees, and are astonished to find him,
+after all, only on the bucket. His pinions are cut, poor fellow! If they
+were not, what would become of the fishmongers' shops?
+
+
+
+
+_Shafts from an Eastern Quiver_.
+
+IX.--MAW-SAYAH: THE KEEPER OF THE GREAT BURMAN NAT.
+
+By Charles J. Mansford, B.A.
+
+
+I.
+
+"The fine points of an elephant, sahib," said our guide Hassan, "are a
+colour approaching to white, the nails perfectly black, and an intact
+tail."
+
+"I am glad to hear that an elephant has some qualities which recommend
+it," said Denviers, good-humouredly. "I should think that the one upon
+which we are riding is about as lazy as it is possible to be. I suppose
+slowness is an unusually good point, isn't it, Hassan?" The Arab, who
+was sitting before us on the elephant, gave it a stir with the
+sharply-pointed spear which he held in his hand to urge it on, and then
+glancing back at us, as we reclined lazily in the cushioned howdah, he
+said inquiringly: "Are the sahibs tired already of travelling thus? Yet
+we have fully two hours' journey before us."
+
+"Hassan," I interposed, "this is a good opportunity for you to tell us
+exactly what you heard about that Maw-Sayah when we were at Bhamo. It is
+in consequence of that, indeed, that we are going to try to get among
+these strange Kachyens; but as we are not quite sure of the details, you
+may as well repeat them."
+
+"The sahib shall be obeyed," responded our guide, and although careful
+to keep a good watch in front, he turned his body slightly towards us as
+he prepared to begin the narrative.
+
+[Illustration: "THE SAHIB SHALL BE OBEYED."]
+
+On reaching Burmah we stayed for several days in Rangoon, the Queen of
+the East as it is called nowadays, although only remarkable formerly for
+its famous monasteries of Talapoins and as a halting-place for the bands
+of pilgrims on their way to the mighty Shway Dagohn pagoda. Thence we
+journeyed up the Irawaddy, and having duly paid reverence to some of the
+nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine pagodas of Pagan--the outcast
+slaves of which city seemed a strange contrast to its otherwise absolute
+desertion--we continued our journey by steamer as far as Mandalay.
+Having endured the doubtful pleasure of a jaunt in a seatless, jolting
+bullock-carriage--the bruises from which were not easily forgotten--we
+eventually reached Bhamo, where Hassan entered into conversation with a
+hill-man. From the latter he learnt a strange story, which was later on
+told to us and the truth of which we hoped before long to fully test,
+for soon afterwards we set out on an elephant, our faithful guide in
+this new adventure again proving himself of the greatest service.
+
+"Now, Hassan," said Denviers, "we are quite ready to hear this story
+fully, but don't add any imaginary details of your own."
+
+"By the Koran, sahib," began the Arab, "these are the words which were
+those of him to whom I spoke under the shade of the log stockade."
+
+"Which are, of course, unimpeachable," responded Denviers. "Anyone could
+tell that from his shifty eyes, which failed to rest upon us fixed even
+for a minute when we spoke to him afterwards." The Arab seemed a little
+disconcerted at this, but soon continued:--
+
+"The great Spirits or Nats, who guard the prosperity of Burmah, have
+become greatly incensed with the Kachyens, not because they failed to
+resist stoutly when the monarch was deposed a few years ago----"
+
+"Then we are to have a modern story, this time, Hassan?" interrupted
+Denviers. "I quite expected that you would commence with some long
+worn-out tradition."
+
+"The sahibs shall hear," the Arab went on. "No one who offends the Nats
+of Burmah need expect anything but evil to follow. There are the Nats of
+the sky, the Nats of the earth, the Nats of the Irawaddy, the Nats of
+the five hundred little rivers, and the thousand Nats which guarded the
+sacred person of the monarch----"
+
+"Yes, Hassan," said Denviers, impatiently, "you mentioned them all
+before. We haven't time to hear the list enumerated now; go on about
+this one particular Nat which you say is causing such havoc among the
+hill-tribes."
+
+"Patience, sahib. The Nats were justly roused to anger because the
+deposed monarch was not afterwards taken to the water's edge riding upon
+an elephant instead of in a bullock-carriage."
+
+"Well, Hassan," said Denviers, "judging from our own experience the Nats
+seem to be pretty sensible, I must say--but how do they affect the peace
+of mind of the Kachyens?"
+
+"Listen, sahib. High among the hills which may be seen stretching before
+us lies a village in which many of the Kachyens dwell, their occupation
+being sometimes that of tillers of the land, but more often consisting
+in planning and carrying out raids upon other hill-men, or of descending
+at times to the plains, and there looting the towns wherein dwell more
+peaceable tribes. In all their forays they had been successful, for
+whenever their trusty dahs or swords were drawn, those who opposed them
+invariably obtained the worst of the encounter. So powerful did they
+become that at last those dwelling in the plains--Shans, Karenns, and
+Talaings, too--made no resistance against their attacks; and when they
+saw the produce of their fields carried away, thought themselves happy
+not to have been slain. The reason why the Kachyens became so successful
+in all they undertook was that a powerful forest Nat placed them under
+its protection, and hence they could not be harmed by their foes.
+
+"Now it chanced that the King was in great danger through following the
+advice of his impetuous ministers, whereupon he summoned the Kachyens to
+his assistance--for their fame as warriors had reached his ears long
+before. But they, confident of securing their own safety whatever
+happened to the monarch, refused to obey his command to march against
+the Burman foes. The consequence was that when the indignity which I
+have mentioned was offered to the deposed monarch, the Nats throughout
+Burmah were furious with that one who ruled the village in which the
+Kachyens dwelt, and they sent some of their number to destroy it. The
+latter, however, appeased them by making a grim promise, which has been
+only too faithfully kept.
+
+"A few days afterwards a hill-man, who was clearing a part of the land
+on the woody slope of the height, _saw the Nat_, which had never before
+been visible, and, terrified at the strange form which it had assumed,
+he ran hastily to the rest of the tribe, and, gathering them together,
+held a consultation as to what should be done to appease it. Some
+suggested that upon every tree trunk should be scratched appealing
+messages, which the Nat might read; others were in favour of placing a
+huge heap of spears and swords near the spot where the embodied Nat had
+been seen in order that it might be tempted to destroy all those who
+urged it to injure them. The messages and weapons, however, when placed
+for the Nat to observe did no good, for one dreadful night a rattling
+was heard of the bamboos, which lay before one of the Kachyen's huts,
+and the man, going hastily to see what caused it, was swiftly carried
+away in the darkness without apparently uttering a single cry! For many
+nights in succession a similar scene was enacted, for he at whose door
+the dire summons came dared not refuse to answer it lest the whole
+household might perish.
+
+"Nothing more was ever seen of those thus strangely carried off, and the
+Kachyens, each of whom feared that his own end might come next,
+determined to consult some famous Buddhist priests who dwelt not far
+from them, and who held charge over the famous marble slabs which the
+great War Prince of Burmah had caused to be engraved concerning their
+illustrious traditions. The man whom ye saw me conversing with by the
+stockade was the one whom the tribe intrusted with the task; but the
+priests, after much consideration among themselves of the object of his
+visit, refused to have anything to do with such a tragic affair, and
+thereupon dismissed their suppliant.
+
+[Illustration: "THE BUDDHIST PRIESTS."]
+
+"This Kachyen, when sorrowfully returning towards the hills, fearing
+that the tribe would destroy him because of his non-success, chanced to
+meet on his way a Mogul, to whom he repeated the story. The latter,
+laying his hand on his red-dyed and fierce-looking beard, advised the
+Kachyen to enter a hole in the mountain side and to consult a famous
+Maw-Sayah, or juggler, who dwelt there. This juggler promised assistance
+if the tribe would pay him a great reward in the event of his success,
+and when they agreed to this he entered the village and waited for dusk
+to arrive. Again the dreadful rattling was heard, and another Kachyen
+stepped out to meet his fate. None of the tribe dared to look at what
+transpired, except the juggler, and he too disappeared! The next
+morning, however, he came into the village and called its inhabitants
+together. When they had solemnly agreed to his conditions, he stated
+that the Nat was bent upon destroying them all, and that to attempt to
+escape by means of flight would only lead to quicker death. Then he told
+them what the result of his intercession for them had been.
+
+"The Nat had been persuaded to destroy only one victim on each seventh
+evening at dusk, and had appointed him to see that certain conditions
+were not broken. He was to have a hut at his disposal, and into this the
+men were to go by lot, and thus the Nat would obtain a victim when the
+time came round. They were forbidden to wander about after sunset, and
+whatever noises were made not to hearken to them, since the Maw-Sayah
+would see that the others were unharmed. So long had this dreadful
+destruction lasted that more than one-half of the men in the Kachyen
+village, or town, as it might well be called from the large number who
+inhabited it, had perished, and yet the Nat still demanded a victim, and
+the Maw-Sayah is there to see that the compact is fulfilled. The man who
+told this story, sahibs, declares that the keeper of the Nat has by this
+means obtained sway over the Kachyens to such an extent that they have
+become his abject slaves, for the custom of drawing lots has been
+abolished, and he selects whom he will to sacrifice to the Nat. By some
+means this Kachyen offended the Maw-Sayah, who thereupon condemned him,
+but he, in terror of the sudden and silent death in store for him, fled
+to Bhamo, where he lives in momentary fear of destruction. Such then,
+sahibs, is the story, and it is to see this Maw-Sayah and the Nat at
+their fell work to-night that even now our faces are turned to the high
+land before us, up which we must climb, for there is but one narrow
+pathway leading to the village."
+
+Hassan ceased, and then Denviers turned to me as he said:--
+
+"I think that this Maw-Sayah, as Hassan calls him, has about as much
+faith in Nats as we have. It suits his purpose to league himself with
+something mysterious; whatever it is we will try to find out," and he
+glanced at the weapons which we carried.
+
+
+II.
+
+"The sahibs must dismount here", said Hassan shortly afterwards, and
+following to the ground our guide, we began to climb the mountain path
+which stretched before us. The ascent was exceedingly steep, and several
+times we stopped to rest after pushing our way through the tangled
+masses which almost hid the path, which was itself cut here and there
+apparently through the rocky strata. When we had reached about
+three-fourths of our journey Hassan stopped and pointed out to us one of
+the thatched roofs of a hut, which seemed in the distance scarcely
+noticeable until his keen eyesight discovered it. The village, we found,
+lay a little to the left of the mountain path, for on nearing the summit
+we found ourselves passing through a peculiar avenue of trees
+interspersed with long bamboo poles. From the tops of the latter there
+were stretched across the approach strong, rough-looking cords, which
+supported various uncouth emblems, and among which were large triangles,
+circles, and stars, cut apparently out of the stems of huge bamboos.
+After traversing this avenue for nearly three hundred yards we saw the
+tree trunks which Hassan had mentioned, and which were deeply scarred
+with cabalistic messages to the fierce Nat, which we could not of course
+understand. Affixed to some of the trees farther on we saw a number of
+spears and dahs mingled with shorter weapons, the latter being made of
+some species of hard wood, and close to them we observed the skulls of
+several large animals, one of which we judged was that of an elephant.
+
+[Illustration: "THE AVENUE."]
+
+In spite of the fact that the village was a large one, the buildings
+were of a very primitive construction, being made of bamboos with
+thatched coverings, reaching almost to the piles on which the huts were
+placed. We did not observe any openings made to serve as windows, the
+only ones noticeable being those by which the Kachyens entered, placed
+above a bamboo ladder, which seemed to, serve instead of steps. Although
+the sun had scarcely set, the village was wrapped in a strange silence,
+the sound of our footsteps alone being heard. The smoke that seemed to
+be forcing its way through stray holes in the thatch amply convinced us,
+however, that the inhabitants were within doors, and, turning to our
+Arab guide, I asked him if he could distinguish among the many huts the
+one in which we expected to find the Maw-Sayah. He seemed a little
+uncertain at first, but after wandering through the village together we
+returned, and then Hassan, who had been very observant the whole time,
+pointed to one of the rudely-constructed huts and said:--
+
+"I think that is the one into which we seek to enter; it is situated
+according to the position in which the Kachyen said it was, and,
+besides, it bears a strange proof of the story which ye have listened to
+with such ill-concealed disbelief."
+
+"Why do you think that is the hut, Hassan?" I asked, for, to my eyes, no
+difference between that and the others close to it was distinguishable.
+
+"If the sahib will look at the bamboo ladder and observe it carefully,
+he will see that it is unlike the others round," said the Arab.
+
+"I suppose you refer to these deep scratches upon it, don't you,
+Hassan?" asked Denviers, as he pointed to some marks, a few of which
+were apparently fairly recent.
+
+"The sahib guesses rightly," answered our guide. "You will remember that
+the Kachyen stated to me that the Nat is accustomed to obtain its victim
+now from the abode of the Maw-Sayah; those marks, then, have been made
+by it when it dragged its human prey out of the hut." We gazed curiously
+at the marks for a few minutes, then Denviers broke the silence by
+asking the Arab why it was that the Nat made marks at all.
+
+"I should have thought that such a powerful spirit could prevent such
+evidences of its presence becoming observed," he continued. "My respect
+for it is certainly not increased by seeing those deep scars; they seem
+to be made by something which has sharp claws."
+
+"That is because of the shape which it has assumed, sahib," said the
+Arab, "for the Nats have wondrous powers----"
+
+"Very likely, Hassan," interposed Denviers; "I suppose they can do
+exactly what they like, can they not?" I was much surprised at the limit
+which was, however, placed upon their powers by our guide, for he
+responded quickly:--
+
+"Not altogether, sahib. There is one thing that a Nat cannot do,
+according to the reports of these Kachyens, and that is, they are unable
+to move in a direction which is not straight, and hence they are careful
+to avoid rough ground, where tangled masses and boulders bar their
+progress, so they usually frequent the open avenues, such as the one
+which we have just passed through. The symbols above it and the writings
+and weapons are all for the Nat's benefit."
+
+"And the elephant's skull?" asked Denviers, irreverently. "What is that
+put up for?" The Arab, however, had an explanation ready, for he
+promptly replied:--
+
+"That indicates where the supplies of food are to be found when the Nat
+requires any." Denviers turned to me for a moment as he said:--
+
+"I should have thought it a good plan, then, to have put it upon the hut
+of this Maw-Sayah whom we are about to interview. See that your weapons
+are in good order, Harold, we may soon need them." Giving a cautious
+look at my belt and the weapons thrust into it, I followed Denviers, who
+had mounted the short bamboo ladder, and was endeavouring to obtain
+admission to the hut. We heard a harsh sound within, then the cry of
+someone apparently terror-stricken, and a moment afterwards we had
+pushed past the Maw-Sayah, who by no means was willing to allow us to
+enter the rude dwelling.
+
+The single room, which seemed to constitute the hut, was extremely low
+and bare of furniture entirely. A few bamboos were spread in one part of
+it, while at the far end was a fire, the light from which was partly
+obscured by the smoke, which almost suffocated us, so thickly did it
+roll up and then spread through the hut. Near the door stood a man
+scarcely clothed, upon whose face we saw a look of the most abject
+terror, for, as we surmised, the noise of our entry was mistaken by him
+for the approach of the fell thing to which he was condemned by the
+Maw-Sayah. We moved towards the latter as he threw himself down by the
+fire, which he had only left to see who it was that came unbidden to the
+hut where to enter was the preceding event to death. He was clothed in a
+long blue strip of linen, which wound round his waist and covered his
+body, partly leaving his dark chest uncovered. His features were stamped
+with an appearance of supreme cunning, his oblique eyes reminding us of
+a Chinaman, while the fierce look in them as they glared at us from
+either side of an aquiline nose, which betrayed his Burmese descent, did
+not increase our confidence in the man as he stretched out his bony
+hands over the fire as if for warmth, although outside the hut we had
+found the heat almost insupportable.
+
+"What do ye seek?" he demanded, as he looked into our faces in turn and
+seemed astonished at our strange features.
+
+"We are travellers who wished to see a Kachyen village," responded
+Denviers, "and we further desired to see some of its inhabitants; but
+as none were visible we entered this hut, even against your will. Where
+are the people who dwell here?" The man whom my companion addressed
+pointed to the Kachyen near the doorway, as he responded:--
+
+"There is one of them, and in a short time even he will never be seen
+again."
+
+[Illustration: "WHAT DO YE SEEK?"]
+
+"Can you give us food?" hazarded Hassan, in order to get the man to
+continue his conversation, for the Arab evidently was expecting that the
+Nat would soon arrive upon the scene. The Maw-Sayah rose and pointed to
+the entrance as he cried:--
+
+"That way ye came, that way shall ye depart. Food for ye I have not, nor
+would I give it if I had." I turned to Denviers and said in a low
+tone:--
+
+"What shall we do, Frank? I don't think our opportunity of seeing what
+may transpire will be as good within the hut as without it. Whatever the
+solution is to this affair, if we are outside we shall see this Kachyen
+dragged away, and may further watch the approach of whatever caused
+those strange marks which we observed."
+
+"One thing is clear," said my companion, "we will attempt to save this
+intended victim, at all events. I expect that if we tried we could get
+him away easily enough, but that plan would not be of much service. We
+must attack this being, whatever it is, with which this Maw-Sayah is
+leagued. How I should like to hand him over as a victim instead of that
+trembling captive by the door. It shows to what extent this juggler has
+acquired power over this tribe, for I notice that his captive is
+unbound, and is certainly a much finer built man than the other."
+
+"It wants less than an hour to dusk, sahibs," said Hassan, who had
+listened carefully to our remarks; "if we were to station ourselves a
+little away from the hut we could see what took place, and if the Nat
+were mortal we might attack it."
+
+Denviers shrugged his shoulders at the Arab's supposition as he
+responded:--
+
+"There is little doubt, Hassan, that the Nat would smart if that keen
+blade of yours went a little too near it, but I think your plan is a
+good one, and we will adopt it, as it falls in with what has already
+been said." We gave a final look at the crafty face of the man who was
+still seated by the fire, and then brushing past the captive we made for
+the open village again.
+
+"I feel sorry for this Kachyen," said Denviers. "He will have a dreadful
+five minutes of it, I expect; but it is our only way of preventing, if
+possible, such an affair from occurring again." On leaving the hut we
+stationed ourselves almost opposite to it, and then began to keep watch.
+What we should see pass up the avenue we could only surmise, but our
+suppositions certainly did not lead us to imagine in the faintest degree
+the sight which before long was destined to completely startle us.
+
+
+III.
+
+The grey dusk was becoming night when among the dark stems of the trees
+we saw some black form move over the ground. We could scarcely
+distinguish it as it crawled over the bamboo logs and made a rasping
+noise as it clung to the ladder. The door of the hut yielded to it, and
+a minute after it again emerged and bore with it the terrified Kachyen.
+We crept after it as it dragged its captive down the avenue, striving
+our utmost to make out its shape. One thing we could tell, which was
+that the creature was not upright; but our movement behind it was
+apparently known, for it struggled to move quicker over the ground with
+its human burden.
+
+[Illustration: "IT AGAIN EMERGED."]
+
+"Shall I shoot it?" I whispered to Denviers, as my nerves seemed to be
+almost unstrung at the unknowableness of the creeping thing.
+
+"You would more likely kill the man," he responded. "Follow as
+noiselessly as you can--it will not let its prey escape, be sure of
+that. Once we track it to its haunt we will soon dispatch it, big and
+fierce as it seems."
+
+We drew nearer and nearer to it, until it had passed half-way down the
+avenue, then it seemed to become lost to our view, although we were, as
+we knew, close to it. I felt Denviers' hand upon my shoulder, and then
+he whispered:--
+
+"The Kachyen is being dragged up a tree just in front--look!" I could
+just distinguish something moving up the trunk, when suddenly the
+captive, who had hitherto been apparently paralyzed with terror, uttered
+a cry and then must have succeeded in disengaging himself from the
+dreadful thing that had held him, for the noise of someone falling to
+the ground was heard, and a minute after we distinguished the form of a
+man rushing headlong back to the village for safety.
+
+We did not anticipate such an event, and were contemplating a search for
+the captor of the Kachyen, when a cold sweat broke out upon me, for the
+clammy claws of the man-hunter had touched me! The sensation which
+seized me was only of short duration, for I felt myself released just as
+Denviers said:--
+
+"Harold, the Kachyen has fled, and his captor, determined to secure its
+prey, has betaken its crawling body after him. If only we had a light! I
+saw something like a black shadow moving onwards; get your pistol ready
+and follow." I just distinguished Denviers as he passed on in front of
+me, Hassan coming last. When we reached the hut of the Maw-Sayah we
+stopped at once, for, from the cry which came from it, we rightly
+surmised that the terrible seeker for human prey had made for this
+place, thinking, in its dull intelligence, that its captive had
+returned. We thrust ourselves into the hut, and saw by the red firelight
+a sanguinary contest between the Maw-Sayah and the black object which we
+had endeavoured to track. Thinking that the Kachyen was being destroyed,
+the juggler had not fastened his door, and the enraged man-eater had
+seized him as he rested on the ground, quite at its mercy!
+
+The Maw-Sayah was struggling with his bony hands to extricate himself
+from the clutches of a monstrous tree-spider! We had seen, on an island
+in the South Seas, several cocoa-nut crabs, and this reptile somewhat
+resembled them, but was even larger. Grasping the juggler with several
+of its long, furry-looking claws, it fixed its glaring red eyes in mad
+anger upon him as he grasped in each hand one of its front pair of
+legs, which were armed with strong, heavy-looking pincers. He besought
+us wildly to shoot, even if we killed him, held as he was by his
+relentless foe.
+
+"Harold," cried my companion, "keep clear, and look out for yourself
+when I fire at this reptile; most likely it will make for one of us." He
+drew right close to it, and thrusting the barrel of his pistol between
+its eyes touched the trigger. The explosion shook the hut, its effect
+upon the spider being to cause it to rush frantically about the floor,
+dragging the Maw-Sayah as if he were some slight burden scarcely
+observable.
+
+[Illustration: "A RELENTLESS FOE."]
+
+"You missed it!" I cried. "Look out, Hassan, guard the doorway!" The
+Arab stood, sword in hand, waiting for it to make for the entrance,
+while Denviers exclaimed:--
+
+"I shot it through the head!" and a minute afterwards the trueness of
+his aim was manifest, for the claws released, and the Maw-Sayah, wounded
+badly, but saved, stood free from the muscular twitchings of the dead
+spider.
+
+"You scoundrel!" said Denviers to him, "I have a good mind to serve you
+the same. You deserve to die as so many of these simple-minded,
+credulous Kachyens have done." I thought for one brief second that my
+companion was about to kill the juggler, for through all our adventures
+I had never seen him so thoroughly roused. I stood between them; then,
+when Denviers quickly recovered his self-command, I turned to the
+Maw-Sayah and asked:--
+
+"If we spare your life, will you promise to leave this village and never
+to return?" He turned his evil-looking but scared face towards us
+eagerly as he replied:--
+
+"I will do whatever you wish." Denviers motioned to him to rest upon the
+ground, which he did, then turning to me, said:--
+
+"It is pretty apparent what this juggler has done. The man who first
+reported the discovery of this Nat, as the foolish Kachyens call it,
+simply disturbed a monstrous spider which had lived in the trees which
+he felled--that accounts for his seeing it. Finding animal food scarce,
+the reptile ventured into this village and tried to get into one of the
+huts. Its exertions were rewarded by the Kachyen coming to the door,
+whom it accordingly seized. To continue its plan, which proved so
+successful, needed very little reasoning power on the part of such a
+cunning creature. No doubt this Maw-Sayah purposely left the door of his
+hut unfastened each seventh night, and the spider thus became accustomed
+to seek for its victim there, I daresay it came the other nights, but
+the juggler was then careful enough to keep his hut well fastened."
+
+"What do the sahibs propose to do?" interrupted Hassan. Denviers turned
+to him, as he responded:--
+
+"We will wait for daybreak; then, having dragged the dead spider out
+where the Kachyens may see that it is no longer able to harm them, we
+will take this Maw-Sayah down the mountain path away from the village as
+poor as he came."
+
+[Illustration: "YOU SCOUNDREL!"]
+
+"A good plan," I assented, and we followed it out, eventually leaving
+the juggler, and climbing once more into the howdah upon the elephant,
+which we found close to the spot where we had left it, secured from
+wandering far away by the rope which Hassan had used to hinder its
+movements.
+
+We entered Bhamo, and while we took a much-needed rest, our guide--as we
+afterwards learnt--searched for and found the fugitive Kachyen, who, on
+hearing that his safety was secured, hastily departed to the village to
+rejoice with the rest of his tribe that the so-called Nat would not do
+them any more injury.
+
+
+
+
+_From Behind the Speaker's Chair._
+
+III.
+
+(VIEWED BY HENRY W. LUCY.)
+
+[Illustration: "OBSTRUCTION."]
+
+It is thirteen years since a new Parliament last blithely started on its
+way with Mr. Gladstone sitting in the seat of the Premier. Since March,
+1880, a great deal has happened, not least in the change of
+circumstances under which the business of the House of Commons is
+conducted. The majority of the House of Commons may be Liberal or
+Conservative, according to a passing flood of conviction on the part of
+the constituencies. When presumptuous hands are stretched forth to touch
+the Ark of its procedure, its instincts are all Tory. For more than two
+hundred years preceding the advent of a Tory Ministry in 1886, this was
+so. Mr. Gladstone, driven to desperation in the second Session of the
+Parliament of 1880-5, endeavoured to reform procedure so that
+obstruction might be fought on even terms. He was met by such resolute
+and persistent opposition from the Conservative side that, even with an
+overwhelming majority at his back, he succeeded only in tinkering the
+pot. Oddly enough, it was left for the Conservatives when they came into
+office to revolutionize the system upon which, through the ages,
+Parliamentary business had been carried on.
+
+There was nothing in the reforms more startling to the old
+Parliamentarian than the proposal automatically to close debate at
+midnight. A dozen years ago members of the House of Commons assembled at
+four o'clock for prayers. Questions began at half-past four, and no one
+could say at what hour of the night or of the next morning the cry "Who
+goes home?" might echo through the lobby. In those days Mr. O'Donnell
+was master of the situation, and he had many imitators. A debate carried
+on through several nights might seem to be approaching a conclusion. The
+Leader of the Opposition, rising between eleven o'clock and midnight,
+spoke in a crowded House. The Premier, or his lieutenant, followed,
+assuming to wind up the debate. Members wearied of the long sitting were
+prepared to go forth to the division lobby; when from below the gangway
+on the left there uprose a familiar figure, and there was heard a
+well-known voice.
+
+[Illustration: F. H. O'DONNELL.]
+
+These usually belonged to Mr. O'Donnell bent upon vindicating the right
+of a private member to interpose when the constituted authorities of the
+House had agreed in the opinion that a debate had been continued long
+enough. A roar of execration from the fagged legislators greeted the
+intruder. He expected this, and was in no degree perturbed. In earliest
+practice he had a way of dropping his eye-glass as if startled by the
+uproar, and searched for it with puzzled, preoccupied expression,
+apparently debating with himself what this outburst might portend. He
+did not love the British House of Commons, and delighted in thwarting
+its purposes. But he knew what was due to it in the way of respect, and,
+however angry passions might rise, however turbulent the scene, he would
+never address it looking upon it with the naked eye. As his eye-glass
+was constantly tumbling out, and as search for it was preternaturally
+deliberate, it played an appreciable part in the prolongation of
+successive Sessions.
+
+[Illustration: "EYE-GLASS PLAY."]
+
+What has become of Frank Hugh now, I wonder? Vanishing from the House of
+Commons, he reappeared for a while on the scene, characteristically
+acting the part of the petrel that heralded the storm Mr. Pigott
+ineffectively tried to ride. It must be a consolation to Mr. O'Donnell,
+in his retirement, wherever it is passed, to reflect on the fact that it
+was he who directly brought about the appointment of the Parnell
+Commission, with all it effected. His action for libel brought against
+the _Times_ preluded and inevitably led up to the formal investigation
+of the famous Charges and Allegations.
+
+The member for Dungarvan was, in his day, the most thoroughly disliked
+man in the House of Commons, distaste for Mr. Parnell and for Mr. Biggar
+in his early prime being softened by contrast with his subtler
+provocation. An exceedingly clever debater, he was a phrase maker, some
+of whose epigrams Mr. Disraeli would not have disowned. He was a
+parliamentary type of ancient standing, and apparently ineradicable
+growth. In the present House of Commons fresh developments are presented
+by Mr. Seymour Keay and Mr. Morton. These are distinct varieties, but
+from the unmistakable root. Both are gifted with boundless volubility,
+unhampered by ordinary considerations of coherency and cogency. Neither
+is influenced by that sense of the dread majesty of the House of Commons
+which keeps some members dumb all through their parliamentary life, and
+to the last, as in the case of Mr. Bright, weighs upon even great
+orators. The difference between the older and the new development is
+that whilst over Mr. O'Donnell's intentional and deliberate vacuity of
+speech there gleamed frequent flashes of wit, Mr. Morton and Mr. Keay
+are only occasionally funny, and then the effect was undesigned.
+
+[Illustration: O'DONNELL'S LAST APPEARANCE.]
+
+[Illustration: MR. SEYMOUR KEAY.]
+
+Since we have these two gentlemen still with us, it would be rash to say
+that if Mr. O'Donnell could revisit the glimpses of Big Ben he would
+find his occupation gone. He would certainly discover that his
+opportunities had been limited, and would have to recommence practice
+under greatly altered conditions. One of the former member for
+Dungarvan's famous achievements took place in the infancy of the
+Parliament of 1880-5, and, apart from its dramatic interest, is valuable
+as illustrating the change effected in parliamentary procedure by the
+New Rules. On that particular June night the paper was loaded with
+questions in a fashion unfamiliar in the last Parliament, though there
+are not lacking signs of renewed activity since political parties
+changed places. Question No. 23 stood in the name of Mr. O'Donnell, and
+contained in his best literary style a serious indictment of M.
+Challemel-Lacour, just nominated by the French Government as their
+representative at the Court of St. James.
+
+[Illustration: MR. A. C. MORTON.]
+
+Sir Charles Dilke, then Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs, made
+categorical reply, directly traversing all the points in the indictment.
+When he resumed his seat Mr. O'Donnell rose in his usual deliberate
+manner, captured his eye-glass, and having fixed it to his satisfaction,
+remarked in his drawling voice that it was "perfectly impossible to
+accept the explanation of the Government." Being interrupted with cries
+of "Order! Order!" he quietly played his trump card: "If I am not
+allowed to explain," he said, "I will conclude with a motion."
+
+[Illustration: SIR CHARLES DILKE.]
+
+The House howled again, but it was a cry of despair. Mr. O'Donnell, they
+knew, had the whip hand. In those good old days he, or any other member
+desiring to obstruct ordinary procedure, might, in the middle of
+questions, start a debate on any subject under the sun. This and other
+outrages were doubtless recalled by the House of Commons when revising
+its Rules. It then ordered that no member might, during the progress of
+questions, interpose with a motion on which to found debate. If, in this
+current month of March, Mr. O'Donnell, being a member of the House of
+Commons, had wanted to attack M. Challemel-Lacour, he must needs have
+waited till the last question on the paper was disposed of, and could
+then have moved the adjournment only if his description of the
+question--as one of urgent public importance--was approved by the
+Speaker, and if, thereafter, forty members rose to support the request
+for a hearing.
+
+In June, 1880, all that was left for the crowded House to do was to roar
+with resentment. Mr. O'Donnell was used to this incentive, and had it
+been withheld would probably have shown signs of failing vigour. As it
+was, he produced a pocket-handkerchief, took down his eye-glass and
+carefully polished it, whilst members yelled and tossed about on their
+seats with impotent fury. Under the existing Rules this scene, if it had
+ever opened, would have been promptly blotted out. The closure would
+have been moved, probably a division taken, and the business of the
+evening would have gone forward. There was no closure in those days, and
+Mr. Gladstone, after hurried consultation with Sir Erskine May, hastily
+moved that Mr. O'Donnell be not heard.
+
+A shout of savage exultation rising from every bench, save those on
+which the Irish members sat, hailed a stroke that promised to deliver
+the House from the thraldom of Mr. O'Donnell at the very moment when its
+chains had taken a final twist. In ordinary circumstances this
+resolution would have played the part of the as yet unconsecrated
+closure. A division would have followed, the motion carried by an
+overwhelming majority, and Mr. O'Donnell would have been temporarily
+shut up.
+
+But those were not ordinary times. The Fourth Party was in the prime of
+its vigour. Lord Randolph Churchill's quick eye discovered an opening
+for irritating Mr. Gladstone and damaging the Government by making what
+should have been a business night one long turmoil. Mr. Parnell, whilst
+disclaiming any personal sympathy with Mr. O'Donnell, moved the
+adjournment of the debate, and poor, placid Sir Stafford Northcote,
+egged on by the young bloods below the gangway, raised various points of
+order. Finally, at eight o'clock, the House dividing on Mr. Parnell's
+amendment, Sir Stafford Northcote voted with the Irish members, leading
+a hundred men of the Party of Law and Order into the same lobby.
+
+[Illustration: STIRRING UP SIR STAFFORD.]
+
+Hour after hour the riot continued. At one time blameless Sir William
+Harcourt, then Home Secretary, appearing at the table, a Conservative
+member, amid tumultuous shouts, moved that he be not heard. When members
+grew tired of shouting at each other they divided on fresh motions for
+the adjournment, and it was not till one o'clock on the following
+morning that Mr. O'Donnell, grateful for a pleasant evening, was good
+enough to undertake that before he recurred to the question he would
+give due notice, so that the Speaker might exercise his discretion in
+revising its terms. At five minutes past one in the morning, after a
+wrangle full eight hours long, the Speaker, with a pretty assumption of
+nothing particular having happened, called on the next question on the
+paper, which was Number 24.
+
+All this might happen again on any night of this month save for the
+beneficent action of the New Rules a long-suffering Parliament was
+finally induced to adopt. On the threshold of a new Parliament it is
+useful to recall the scene as an assistance in calculating what may be
+accomplished by the Parliament elected in 1892, as compared with that
+which began its history in 1880. On the face of it, Parliament to-day
+has much less time at its disposal for the accomplishment of work than
+it had a dozen years ago. Then, the duration of a sitting was
+indefinite. The House might, as it did in February, 1881, meet at four
+o'clock on a Monday afternoon and sit continuously till Wednesday
+morning. Now, the Speaker takes the Chair at three o'clock; public
+business commences at half-past three; and at midnight, save in cases
+where the Standing Order has been formally suspended, the Speaker leaves
+the Chair, and the House adjourns, whoever may be on his feet.
+
+[Illustration: "DISGUST."]
+
+The influence of this automatic procedure is beneficially felt
+throughout the whole of debate. One wholesome influence works in the
+direction of using up the early hours of the sitting, an arrangement
+which carries comfort to countless printing offices and editorial
+sanctums. Some time before the New Rules came into operation, Mr.
+Gladstone discovered for himself the convenience and desirability of
+taking part in debate at the earliest possible hour of a sitting. His
+earlier associations drifted round a directly opposite course. In the
+good old days the champions of debate did not interpose till close upon
+midnight, when they had the advantage of audiences sustained and
+exhilarated by dinner. That was before the era of special wires to the
+provincial papers, early morning trams, and vastly increased circulation
+for the London journals. Mr. Gladstone discovered that he was more
+carefully reported and his observations more deliberately discussed if
+he spoke between five and seven o'clock in the evening than if,
+following his earlier habit, he addressed the House between eleven and
+one in the morning. He has, accordingly, for some years been accustomed,
+when he has an important speech to deliver, to interpose in debate
+immediately after questions.
+
+This habit has become general, even compulsory, with members who may,
+within certain limits, choose their own time for speaking. All the cream
+of debate is now skimmed before the dinner-hour. At the close of a
+pitched battle, the two Leaders of Party, as heretofore, wind up the
+debate. But their opportunity for orating is severely circumscribed. The
+audience in the House of Commons does not begin to reassemble after
+dinner till half-past ten. Rising at that hour, the Leader of the
+Opposition, if he fairly divides the available time with the right
+honourable gentleman opposite, must not speak more than three-quarters
+of an hour, and should not exceed forty minutes.
+
+This is a necessity desirable not less in the orator's interest than in
+that of the audience. Except for the exposition of an intricate measure,
+twenty minutes is ample time for any man to say what is useful for his
+fellow-men to hear. All Mr. Disraeli's best speeches were made within
+half an hour, and if he thought it necessary, from a sense of the
+importance of his position, to prolong them, his stock of good things
+was exhausted in twenty minutes, the rest being what Carlyle
+disrespectfully described as thrice-boiled cole-wort. Mr. Gladstone can
+go on indefinitely, and in very recent times has been known to hold his
+audience spell-bound for three hours. But even he has profited by the
+beneficent tyranny that now rules the limit of debate, and, rising with
+the knowledge that he has but forty minutes to speak in, has excelled
+himself. For less exuberant speakers not gifted with his genius, the new
+discipline is even more marked in its benefits.
+
+[Illustration: MR. KEIR HARDIE.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It is too soon to endeavour to estimate the general characteristics of
+the _personnel_ of the new Parliament. It will probably turn out to be
+very much of the same class as the innumerable army of its predecessors.
+When Mr. Keir Hardie came down on the opening day in a wagonette, with
+flags flying and accordions playing, it was cried aloud in some quarters
+that the end was at hand. This apprehension was strengthened when Mr.
+Hardie strolled about the House with a tweed travelling cap on his head,
+the Speaker at the time being in the chair. This, as Dr. Johnson
+explained, when the lady asked him why he had described the horse's
+pastern as its knee, was "ignorance, pure ignorance." Mr. Hardie is not
+a man of the quietest manners, as was testified to by the apparition in
+Palace Yard of the wagonette and its musical party; but in the
+much-talked-of incident of the cap he sinned inadvertently. Before the
+Speaker took the chair he had seen members walking about with their hats
+on. He had observed that even in his presence they remained seated with
+their heads covered. The shade of etiquette which approves this fashion
+whilst it sternly prohibits a member from keeping his hat on when in
+motion, even to the extent of leaning over to speak to a friend on the
+bench below him, was too fine to catch the eye of a new member.
+
+Mr. Keir Hardie has done much worse things than this in his public
+appearances during the recess, and since the Session opened there has
+not been lacking evidence of resolve to keep himself in the front of the
+stage where the gallery may see him. But this is no new thing, to be
+cited in proof of the deterioration of the composition and style of the
+House of Commons. It has been done repeatedly in various fashions within
+recent memory, and always with the same result. No man, not even Mr.
+Biggar--and he may be cited as the most ruthless experimenter--has
+successfully struggled against the subtle disciplinary influence of the
+House of Commons.
+
+From the first the member for Cavan set himself in deliberate fashion to
+outrage Parliamentary traditions and usages. He finished by becoming a
+punctilious practitioner of Parliamentary forms, a stickler for the
+minutest observation of order. Whilst Mr. Gladstone and other members of
+old standing were content to preface their speeches with the
+monosyllable "Sir," nothing less than "Mr. Speaker, sir," would satisfy
+Mr. Biggar. No one who has not heard the inflection of tone with which
+this was uttered, nor seen the oratorical sweep of the hand that
+launched it on its course, can realize how much of combined deference
+and authority the phrase is capable of. Mr. Biggar, having in his early
+Parliamentary days defied the Chair and affronted the sensibilities of
+the House, alike in the matter of dress and deportment, developed into a
+portly gentleman of almost smug appearance, a terror to new members. Woe
+to any who in his ignorance passed between the Chair and the member
+addressing it; who walked in from a division with his hat on; or who
+stood an inch or two within the Bar whilst debate was going forward. Mr.
+Biggar's strident cry of "Order! Order!" reverberated through the House.
+Others joined in the shout, and the abashed offender hastily withdrew
+into obscurity.
+
+[Illustration: THE LATE MR. BIGGAR.]
+
+It is the same with others of less strongly marked character. Vanity or
+garrulity may force a new member into a position of notoriety. He may,
+according to his measure of determination, try a fall again and again
+with the House, and may sometimes, as in the case of Mr. O'Donnell, seem
+to win. But in the end the House of Commons proves victorious. It is a
+sort of whetstone on which blades of various temperature operate. In
+time, they either forego the practice or wear themselves away. In either
+case the whetstone remains.
+
+This is a rule without exception, and is a reassuring reflection in view
+of the talk about the degeneracy of the House of Commons, and the
+decadence of its standard of manner. It would not be difficult to show
+that the House at present in Session will, from the point of view of
+manners, favourably compare with any that have gone before--though, to
+be just, the comparison should be sought with Parliaments elected under
+similar conditions, with the Liberals in office and the Conservatives in
+opposition. That is an arrangement always found to be more conducive to
+lively proceedings than when parties are disposed in the contrary order.
+The Parliament dissolved last year was decorously dull. Mr. Gladstone in
+opposition is not prone to show sport, and no encouragement was held out
+to enterprising groups below the gangway to bait the Government. It was
+very different in the Parliament of 1880-5, of which fact the
+Challemel-Lacour episode is an illustration, only a little more piquant
+in flavour than the average supply.
+
+There are already signs that the new Parliament will not lie under the
+charge of deplorable dulness brought against its predecessor. But these
+varying moods are due to waves of political passion, and do not affect
+the question whether the House of Commons as a body of English gentlemen
+met for the discharge of public business has or has not deteriorated. I
+have an engraving of a picture of the House of Commons in pre-Reform
+days. It was carefully drawn in the Session of 1842. A more respectable
+body of the gentlemen of England it would be difficult to gather
+together. With the possible exception of one or two political
+adventurers like the then member for Shrewsbury, there is probably not a
+man in the House who is not well born or at least rich. Mr. Keir Hardie
+would look strange indeed in these serried ranks of portly gentlemen
+with high coat collars, cravats up to their chin, short-bodied coats
+showing the waistcoat beneath, and the tightly trousered legs. Yet this
+House, and its equally prim successors, had its obstruction, its
+personal wrangles, and its occasional duel. Peel was attacked by
+Disraeli in a fashion and in language that would not be tolerated in the
+House of Commons now, even though the target were Mr. Gladstone.
+
+It is not necessary to go back as far as the days of Peel or
+Parliamentary Reform to sustain the bold assertion that, so far from
+having degenerated, the manners of the House of Commons have improved.
+In the Parliament elected in 1874 there sat on the Conservative side a
+gentleman named Smollet, who early distinguished himself by bringing
+Parliamentary debate down to the level of conversation in "Roderick
+Random." In those days Mr. Gladstone was down after the General
+Election, and Mr. Smollet, to the uproarious delight of gentlemen near
+him, savagely kicked him.
+
+[Illustration: "MOBBING HIM."]
+
+It was in the second year of this same Parliament, less than twenty
+years ago, that Mr. Gladstone, issuing from a division lobby, was
+suddenly pounced upon by some fifty or sixty Conservative members, and
+howled at for the space of several moments. It is, happily, possible for
+Mr. Gladstone to forget, or at least to forgive, personal attacks made
+upon him through his long career. In this very month of the new Session
+he may be nightly seen working in cordial fashion with ancient
+adversaries from Ireland, describing as "my honourable friends"
+gentlemen who, ten years ago and for some time subsequently, heaped on
+his head the coarsest vituperation permitted by practised manipulation
+of Parliamentary forms. But this scene in the division lobby on the 12th
+of April, 1875, is burned into his recollection. I have heard him,
+within the last few months, refer to it in those tones of profound
+indignation and with that flashing fire in his eyes only seen when he is
+deeply moved. He mentioned, what I think was not known, that Lord
+Hartington happened to be walking with him at the time. But there was no
+mistake for whom the angry cries were meant. Mr. Gladstone spoke with
+the profounder indignation because, as he said, he had on this occasion
+gone out to vote on behalf of a man whose character he detested, because
+he saw in the action taken against him an attack upon one of the
+privileges of Parliament.
+
+That scene was an outburst of political animosity; and the movements of
+political animosity, like the dicta of taste, are not to be disputed.
+But on the question of good manners, the only one here under
+consideration, it may be affirmed that the present House of Commons
+would be safe from lapse into such an exhibition. To this better state
+of things the operation of the New Rules has conspicuously contributed,
+and though, as we know, they have not operated to the absolute
+extinction of Parliamentary scenes, they have appreciably limited
+opportunity and incentive.
+
+
+
+
+_Portraits of Celebrities at Different Times of their Lives_.
+
+
+LORD BATTERSEA.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 14.
+
+_From a Daguerreotype._]
+
+BORN 1843.
+
+
+Lord Battersea, who was until recently known to the world as Mr. Cyril
+Flower, M.P., is a son of the late Mr. P. W. Flower, of Streatham, and
+was educated at Harrow and at Trinity College, Cambridge.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 21.
+
+_From a Photo, by Mayland, Cambridge._]
+
+He was called to the Bar at the age of twenty-seven, and became Liberal
+Member for Brecknock in 1880, and for the Luton Division of Bedfordshire
+in 1885 and 1886, in which later year he was one of Mr. Gladstone's
+"Whips." He married the daughter of the late Sir Anthony Rothschild, and
+both he and his wife are much interested in the welfare of the lower
+classes of London. Lord Battersea was unanimously reputed the handsomest
+man in the House of Commons, and is now, in every sense of the word, an
+ornament of the House of Lords.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 40.
+
+_From a Drawing._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photograph by Bassano, 35, Old Bond Street, W._.]
+
+
+W. Q. ORCHARDSON, R.A.
+
+BORN 1835.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 16.
+
+_From an Oil Sketch by himself._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 35.
+
+_From a Photograph by Walery, Marseilles._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 44.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+Mr. William Quiller Orchardson was born in Edinburgh, and at the age of
+fifteen entered the Trustees' Academy of that city, his first pictures
+being exhibited in the Royal Scottish Academy. At the age of
+twenty-eight he came to London, and the same year exhibited at the Royal
+Academy for the first time, his contributions being entitled, "An Old
+English Song" and "Portraits," the latter a life-size composition of
+three young ladies. In 1865 he painted "The Challenge," which won a
+prize of £100 given by Mr. Wallace, and one of the very few Medals
+awarded to English painters at the Paris Universal Exhibition. In 1866
+came "The Story of a Life"--an aged nun relating her experiences to a
+group of novices. Two years later, when he had only been four years in
+London, he was elected an A.R.A. Among his more recent pictures may be
+mentioned "Napoleon on Board the _Bellerophon_" (1880), "The Salon of
+Madame Recamier" (1885), "The Young Duke" (1889), and "St. Helena"
+(1892). Mr. Orchardson was elected an R.A. in 1877, and a D.C.L. of
+Oxford in 1890.
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+
+LADY HALLÉ.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 10.
+
+_From a Drawing._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 23.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+Lady Hallé, whose maiden name was Wilhelmine Néruda, was born at Brünn,
+where her father was organist of the cathedral. She was a pupil of
+Jansa, and made her first appearance at Vienna at the age of six, and in
+London at the age of nine. After this she returned to the Continent, and
+in 1864 she married Ludwig Norman, a Swedish musician. Since 1869 she
+has been in England every winter, playing especially at the concerts of
+Sir Charles Hallé, whom she married in 1888.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 35.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo by Burraud_.]
+
+
+SIR CHARLES HALLÉ.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 20.
+
+_From a Painting._]
+
+Sir Charles Hallé is a native of Germany, but at an early age he
+established himself in Paris, where he acquired a great reputation by
+his refined and classical rendering of the compositions of the great
+musicians; but the Revolution of 1843 drove him to England, where he has
+ever since resided. He soon established himself at Manchester, and as
+the founder of the annual series of orchestral and choral concerts there
+and in London, which have become, perhaps, the most important series in
+Europe, he has rendered the most valuable service to musical art.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 31.
+
+_From a Painting._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 45.
+
+_From a Photo, by H. Hering, Regent Street, W._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo. by Mayall & Co., 164, New Bond Street, W._]
+
+
+DR. HERMANN ADLER,
+
+CHIEF RABBI.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 24.
+
+_From a Photograph by McLean & Haes, Haymarket._]
+
+Born 1839.
+
+Dr. Adler, son of Dr. Nathan Marcus Adler, was born in Hanover, and came
+to London with his father at the age of six. He studied at University
+College, took his B. A. degree at the University of London at twenty,
+and that of Ph. D., at Leipzig, at twenty-two. In the following year he
+was ordained Rabbi by the famous Rapoport, Chief Rabbi of Prague, and
+became in succession Principal of the Jews' College in London and Chief
+Minister of the Bayswater Synagogue. In 1890 his father, the Chief
+Rabbi, died, and Dr. Adler was elected in his place. Dr. Adler is well
+known not only by his powerful and scholarly writings, but by his work
+among the poorer Jews of London.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 37.
+
+_From a Photograph by J. R. Sawyer, Norwich._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 44.
+
+_From a Photograph by Fradella, 216, Regent Street, W._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photograph by The Photographic Co._]
+
+
+SIR ARCHIBALD ALISON, BART., K.C.B.
+
+Born 1826.
+
+General Alison, son of Sir Archibald Alison, the first Baronet, who was
+the well-known author of "The History of Europe," was born at Edinburgh,
+and entered the Army at the age of twenty. He served in the Crimea, at
+the siege and fall of Sebastopol, at which date our second portrait
+represents him. During the Indian Mutiny he lost an arm at the relief of
+Lucknow. In 1882 he commanded the 1st Brigade, 2nd Division, during the
+expedition to Egypt, and at the decisive battle of Tel-el-Kebir he led
+the Highland Brigade which fought so gallantly on that memorable
+occasion, and after Arabi's surrender he was left in Egypt with the
+command of the British army of 12,000 men to restore order and protect
+the Khedive. Sir Archibald was included in the thanks of Parliament for
+his energy and gallantry, and was promoted to the rank of
+Lieutenant-General; he received his appointment as General in 1889. In
+1869 Sir Archibald Alison published an able treatise, "On Army
+Organization."
+
+[Illustration: AGE 3.
+
+_From a Miniature._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 31.
+
+_From a Daguerreotype by Werge, Glasgow._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 47.
+
+_From a Photograph by Jacklett, Aldershot._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo, by Barraud._]
+
+
+MADAME JANE HADING.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 3.
+
+_From a Photo. by Chalot et Cie., Paris._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 5.
+
+_From a Photo. by Chalot et Cie., Paris._]
+
+Madame Jane Hading, the well-known French actress, was born at
+Marseilles, in 1863, where her father was popular as a leading actor,
+with whom she appeared when only three years of age as little _Blanche
+de Caylus_ in "Le Bossu." At the age of thirteen she began work in
+earnest, having won "le prix de solfège" at the Marseille Conservatoire,
+and her talent having come to the ears of Mr. Plunkett, the director of
+the Palais Royal, he engaged her for the Palais Royal in Paris, where
+she created the part of _La Chaste Suzanne_, by Paul Ferrier. Giving up
+comic opera for comedy, Jane Hading went to the Gymnase, where she
+created the part of _Claire de Beaulieu_ in "Le Maître de Forges."
+London had the opportunity of seeing her in that and "Prince Zilah," by
+Jules Claretie, later on, and fully indorsed the Parisian verdict. These
+conspicuous successes were followed by others almost as notable, and her
+subsequent tour in America won her golden opinions, and was so
+successful that it was extended some months. Her latest Parisian success
+was "Le Prince d'Aurec," which added greatly to her laurels, putting her
+in the very front rank of great artists.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 15.
+
+_From a Photo. by Fabre, Marseilles._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo, by Reutlinger, Paris._]
+
+
+
+
+_The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_.
+
+XVI.--THE ADVENTURE OF THE STOCKBROKER'S CLERK.
+
+BY A. CONAN DOYLE.
+
+
+Shortly after my marriage I had bought a connection in the Paddington
+district. Old Mr. Farquhar, from whom I purchased it, had at one time an
+excellent general practice, but his age, and an affliction of the nature
+of St. Vitus' dance, from which he suffered, had very much thinned it.
+The public, not unnaturally, goes upon the principle that he who would
+heal others must himself be whole, and looks askance at the curative
+powers of the man whose own case is beyond the reach of his drugs. Thus,
+as my predecessor weakened, his practice declined, until when I
+purchased it from him it had sunk from twelve hundred to little more
+than three hundred a year. I had confidence, however, in my own youth
+and energy, and was convinced that in a very few years the concern would
+be as flourishing as ever.
+
+For three months after taking over the practice I was kept very closely
+at work, and saw little of my friend Sherlock Holmes, for I was too busy
+to visit Baker Street, and he seldom went anywhere himself save upon
+professional business. I was surprised, therefore, when one morning in
+June, as I sat reading the _British Medical Journal_ after breakfast, I
+heard a ring at the bell followed by the high, somewhat strident, tones
+of my old companion's voice.
+
+"Ah, my dear Watson," said he, striding into the room. "I am very
+delighted to see you. I trust that Mrs. Watson has entirely recovered
+from all the little excitements connected with our adventure of the
+'Sign of Four.'"
+
+"Thank you, we are both very well," said I, shaking him warmly by the
+hand.
+
+"And I hope also," he continued, sitting down in the rocking-chair,
+"that the cares of medical practice have not entirely obliterated the
+interest which you used to take in our little deductive problems."
+
+"On the contrary," I answered; "it was only last night that I was
+looking over my old notes and classifying some of our past results."
+
+"I trust that you don't consider your collection closed?"
+
+"Not at all. I should wish nothing better than to have some more of such
+experiences."
+
+"To-day, for example?"
+
+"Yes; to-day, if you like."
+
+"And as far off as Birmingham?"
+
+"Certainly, if you wish it."
+
+"And the practice?"
+
+"I do my neighbour's when he goes. He is always ready to work off the
+debt."
+
+[Illustration: "'NOTHING COULD BE BETTER,' SAID HOLMES."]
+
+"Ha! Nothing could be better!" said Holmes, leaning back in his chair
+and looking keenly at me from under his half-closed lids. "I perceive
+that you have been unwell lately. Summer colds are always a little
+trying."
+
+"I was confined to the house by a severe chill for three days last week.
+I thought, however, that I had cast off every trace of it."
+
+"So you have. You look remarkably robust."
+
+"How, then, did you know of it?"
+
+"My dear fellow, you know my methods."
+
+"You deduced it, then?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"And from what?"
+
+"From your slippers."
+
+I glanced down at the new patent leathers which I was wearing. "How on
+earth----?" I began, but Holmes answered my question before it was
+asked.
+
+"Your slippers are new," he said. "You could not have had them more than
+a few weeks. The soles which you are at this moment presenting to me are
+slightly scorched. For a moment I thought they might have got wet and
+been burned in the drying. But near the instep there is a small circular
+wafer of paper with the shopman's hieroglyphics upon it. Damp would of
+course have removed this. You had then been sitting with your feet
+outstretched to the fire, which a man would hardly do even in so wet a
+June as this if he were in his full health."
+
+Like all Holmes's reasoning the thing seemed simplicity itself when it
+was once explained. He read the thought upon my features, and his smile
+had a tinge of bitterness.
+
+"I am afraid that I rather give myself away when I explain," said he.
+"Results without causes are much more impressive. You are ready to come
+to Birmingham, then?"
+
+"Certainly. What is the case?"
+
+"You shall hear it all in the train. My client is outside in a
+four-wheeler. Can you come at once?"
+
+"In an instant." I scribbled a note to my neighbour, rushed upstairs to
+explain the matter to my wife, and joined Holmes upon the doorstep.
+
+"Your neighbour is a doctor?" said he, nodding at the brass plate.
+
+"Yes. He bought a practice as I did."
+
+"An old-established one?"
+
+"Just the same as mine. Both have been ever since the houses were
+built."
+
+"Ah, then you got hold of the best of the two."
+
+"I think I did. But how do you know?"
+
+"By the steps, my boy. Yours are worn three inches deeper than his. But
+this gentleman in the cab is my client, Mr. Hall Pycroft. Allow me to
+introduce you to him. Whip your horse up, cabby, for we have only just
+time to catch our train."
+
+The man whom I found myself facing was a well-built, fresh-complexioned
+young fellow with a frank, honest face and a slight, crisp, yellow
+moustache. He wore a very shiny top-hat and a neat suit of sober black,
+which made him look what he was--a smart young City man, of the class
+who have been labelled Cockneys, but who give us our crack Volunteer
+regiments, and who turn out more fine athletes and sportsmen than any
+body of men in these islands. His round, ruddy face was naturally full
+of cheeriness, but the corners of his mouth seemed to me to be pulled
+down in a half-comical distress. It was not, however, until we were all
+in a first-class carriage and well started upon our journey to
+Birmingham, that I was able to learn what the trouble was which had
+driven him to Sherlock Holmes.
+
+"We have a clear run here of seventy minutes," Holmes remarked. "I want
+you, Mr. Hall Pycroft, to tell my friend your very interesting
+experience exactly as you have told it to me, or with more detail if
+possible. It will be of use to me to hear the succession of events
+again. It is a case, Watson, which may prove to have something in it, or
+may prove to have nothing, but which at least presents those unusual and
+_outré_ features which are as dear to you as they are to me. Now, Mr.
+Pycroft, I shall not interrupt you again."
+
+Our young companion looked at me with a twinkle in his eye.
+
+"The worst of the story is," said he, "that I show myself up as such a
+confounded fool. Of course, it may work out all right, and I don't see
+that I could have done otherwise; but if I have lost my crib and get
+nothing in exchange, I shall feel what a soft Johnny I have been. I'm
+not very good at telling a story, Dr. Watson, but it is like this with
+me.
+
+"I used to have a billet at Coxon and Woodhouse, of Drapers' Gardens,
+but they were let in early in the spring through the Venezuelan loan, as
+no doubt you remember, and came a nasty cropper. I had been with them
+five years, and old Coxon gave me a ripping good testimonial when the
+smash came; but, of course, we clerks were all turned adrift, the
+twenty-seven of us. I tried here and tried there, but there were lots of
+other chaps on the same lay as myself, and it was a perfect frost for a
+long time. I had been taking three pounds a week at Coxon's, and I had
+saved about seventy of them, but I soon worked my way through that and
+out at the other end. I was fairly at the end of my tether at last, and
+could hardly find the stamps to answer the advertisements or the
+envelopes to stick them to. I had worn out my boots padding up office
+stairs, and I seemed just as far from getting a billet as ever.
+
+"At last I saw a vacancy at Mawson and Williams', the great stockbroking
+firm in Lombard Street. I daresay E. C. is not much in your line, but I
+can tell you that this is about the richest house in London. The
+advertisement was to be answered by letter only. I sent in my
+testimonial and application, but without the least hope of getting it.
+Back came an answer by return saying that if I would appear next Monday
+I might take over my new duties at once, provided that my appearance was
+satisfactory. No one knows how these things are worked. Some people say
+the manager just plunges his hand into the heap and takes the first that
+comes. Anyhow, it was my innings that time, and I don't ever wish to
+feel better pleased. The screw was a pound a week rise, and the duties
+just about the same as at Coxon's.
+
+"And now I come to the queer part of the business. I was in diggings out
+Hampstead way--17, Potter's Terrace, was the address. Well, I was
+sitting doing a smoke that very evening after I had been promised the
+appointment, when up came my landlady with a card which had 'Arthur
+Pinner, financial agent,' printed upon it. I had never heard the name
+before, and could not imagine what he wanted with me, but of course I
+asked her to show him up. In he walked--a middle-sized, dark-haired,
+dark-eyed, black-bearded man, with a touch of the sheeny about his nose.
+He had a brisk kind of way with him and spoke sharply, like a man that
+knew the value of time.
+
+[Illustration: "'MR. HALL PYCROFT, I BELIEVE?' SAID HE."]
+
+"'Mr. Hall Pycroft, I believe?' said he.
+
+"'Yes, sir,' I answered, and pushed a chair towards him.
+
+"'Lately engaged at Coxon and Woodhouse's?'
+
+"'Yes, sir.'
+
+"And now on the staff of Mawson's?'
+
+"'Quite so.'
+
+"'Well,' said he. 'The fact is that I have heard some really
+extraordinary stories about your financial ability. You remember Parker
+who used to be Coxon's manager? He can never say enough about it.'
+
+"Of course I was pleased to hear this. I had always been pretty smart in
+the office, but I had never dreamed that I was talked about in the City
+in this fashion.
+
+"'You have a good memory?' said he.
+
+"'Pretty fair,' I answered, modestly.
+
+"'Have you kept in touch with the market while you have been out of
+work?' he asked.
+
+"'Yes; I read the Stock Exchange List every morning.'
+
+"'Now, that shows real application!' he cried. 'That is the way to
+prosper! You won't mind my testing you, will you? Let me see! How are
+Ayrshires?'
+
+"'One hundred and six and a quarter to one hundred and five and
+seven-eighths,' I answered.
+
+"'And New Zealand Consolidated?'
+
+"'A hundred and four.'
+
+"'And British Broken Hills?'
+
+"'Seven to seven and six.'
+
+"'Wonderful!' he cried, with his hands up. 'This quite fits in with all
+that I had heard. My boy, my boy, you are very much too good to be a
+clerk at Mawson's!'
+
+"This outburst rather astonished me, as you can think. 'Well,' said I,
+'other people don't think quite so much of me as you seem to do, Mr.
+Pinner. I had a hard enough fight to get this berth, and I am very glad
+to have it.'
+
+"'Pooh, man, you should soar above it. You are not in your true sphere.
+Now I'll tell you how it stands with me. What I have to offer is little
+enough when measured by your ability, but when compared with Mawson's it
+is light to dark. Let me see! When do you go to Mawson's?'
+
+"'On Monday.'
+
+"'Ha! ha! I think I would risk a little sporting flutter that you don't
+go there at all.'
+
+"'Not go to Mawson's?'
+
+"'No, sir. By that day you will be the business manager of the
+Franco-Midland Hardware Company, Limited, with one hundred and
+thirty-four branches in the towns and villages of France, not counting
+one in Brussels and one in San Remo.'
+
+"This took my breath away. 'I never heard of it,' said I.
+
+"'Very likely not. It has been kept very quiet, for the capital was all
+privately subscribed, and it is too good a thing to let the public into.
+My brother, Harry Pinner, is promoter, and joins the board after
+allotment as managing director. He knew that I was in the swim down
+here, and he asked me to pick up a good man cheap--a young, pushing man
+with plenty of snap about him. Parker spoke of you, and that brought me
+here to-night. We can only offer you a beggarly five hundred to start
+with----'
+
+"'Five hundred a year!' I shouted.
+
+"'Only that at the beginning, but you are to have an over-riding
+commission of 1 per cent, on all business done by your agents, and you
+may take my word for it that this will come to more than your salary.'
+
+"'But I know nothing about hardware.'
+
+"'Tut, my boy, you know about figures.'
+
+"My head buzzed, and I could hardly sit still in the chair. But suddenly
+a little chill of doubt came over me.
+
+"'I must be frank with you,' said I. 'Mawson only gives me two hundred,
+but Mawson is safe. Now, really, I know so little about your company
+that----'
+
+"'Ah, smart, smart!' he cried, in a kind of ecstasy of delight. 'You are
+the very man for us! You are not to be talked over, and quite right too.
+Now, here's a note for a hundred pounds; and if you think that we can do
+business you may just slip it into your pocket as an advance upon your
+salary.'
+
+"'That is very handsome,' said I. 'When should I take over my new
+duties?'
+
+"'Be in Birmingham to-morrow at one,' said he. 'I have a note in my
+pocket here which you will take to my brother. You will find him at
+126B, Corporation Street, where the temporary offices of the company are
+situated. Of course he must confirm your engagement, but between
+ourselves it will be all right.'
+
+"'Really, I hardly know how to express my gratitude, Mr. Pinner,' said
+I.
+
+"'Not at all, my boy. You have only got your deserts. There are one or
+two small things--mere formalities--which I must arrange with you. You
+have a bit of paper beside you there. Kindly write upon it, "I am
+perfectly willing to act as business manager to the Franco-Midland
+Hardware Company, Limited, at a minimum salary of £500."'
+
+"I did as he asked, and he put the paper in his pocket.
+
+"'There is one other detail,' said he. 'What do you intend to do about
+Mawson's?'
+
+"I had forgotten all about Mawson's in my joy.
+
+"'I'll write and resign,' said I.
+
+"'Precisely what I don't want you to do. I had a row over you with
+Mawson's manager. I had gone up to ask him about you, and he was very
+offensive--accused me of coaxing you away from the service of the firm,
+and that sort of thing. At last I fairly lost my temper. "If you want
+good men you should pay them a good price," said I. "He would rather
+have our small price than your big one," said he. "I'll lay you a
+fiver," said I, "that when he has my offer you will never so much as
+hear from him again." "Done!" said he. "We picked him out of the gutter,
+and he won't leave us so easily." Those were his very words.'
+
+"'The impudent scoundrel!' I cried. 'I've never so much as seen him in
+my life. Why should I consider him in any way? I shall certainly not
+write if you would rather that I didn't.'
+
+"'Good! That's a promise!' said he, rising from his chair. 'Well, I am
+delighted to have got so good a man for my brother. Here is your
+advance of a hundred pounds, and here is the letter. Make a note of the
+address, 126B, Corporation Street, and remember that one o'clock
+to-morrow is your appointment. Good-night, and may you have all the
+fortune that you deserve.'
+
+"That's just about all that passed between us as near as I can remember
+it. You can imagine, Dr. Watson, how pleased I was at such an
+extraordinary bit of good fortune. I sat up half the night hugging
+myself over it, and next day I was off to Birmingham in a train that
+would take me in plenty of time for my appointment. I took my things to
+an hotel in New Street, and then I made my way to the address which had
+been given me.
+
+"It was a quarter of an hour before my time, but I thought that would
+make no difference. 126B was a passage between two large shops which led
+to a winding stone stair, from which there were many flats, let as
+offices to companies or professional men. The names of the occupants
+were painted up at the bottom on the wall, but there was no such name as
+the Franco-Midland Hardware Company, Limited. I stood for a few minutes
+with my heart in my boots, wondering whether the whole thing was an
+elaborate hoax or not, when up came a man and addressed me. He was very
+like the chap that I had seen the night before, the same figure and
+voice, but he was clean shaven and his hair was lighter.
+
+[Illustration: "UP CAME A MAN AND ADDRESSED ME."]
+
+"'Are you Mr. Hall Pycroft?' he asked.
+
+"'Yes,' said I.
+
+"'Ah! I was expecting you, but you are a trifle before your time. I had
+a note from my brother this morning, in which he sang your praises very
+loudly.'
+
+"'I was just looking for the offices when you came.'
+
+"'We have not got our name up yet, for we only secured these temporary
+premises last week. Come up with me and we will talk the matter over.'
+
+"I followed him to the top of a very lofty stair, and there right under
+the slates were a couple of empty and dusty little rooms, uncarpeted and
+uncurtained, into which he led me. I had thought of a great office with
+shining tables and rows of clerks such as I was used to, and I daresay I
+stared rather straight at the two deal chairs and one little table,
+which, with a ledger and a waste-paper basket, made up the whole
+furniture.
+
+"'Don't be disheartened, Mr. Pycroft,' said my new acquaintance, seeing
+the length of my face. 'Rome was not built in a day, and we have lots of
+money at our backs, though we don't cut much dash yet in offices. Pray
+sit down and let me have your letter.'
+
+"I gave it to him, and he read it over very carefully.
+
+"'You seem to have made a vast impression upon my brother, Arthur,' said
+he, 'and I know that he is a pretty shrewd judge. He swears by London,
+you know, and I by Birmingham, but this time I shall follow his advice.
+Pray consider yourself definitely engaged.'
+
+"'What are my duties?' I asked.
+
+"'You will eventually manage the great depôt in Paris, which will pour a
+flood of English crockery into the shops of one hundred and thirty-four
+agents in France. The purchase will be completed in a week, and
+meanwhile you will remain in Birmingham and make yourself useful.'
+
+"'How?'
+
+"For answer he took a big red book out of a drawer. 'This is a directory
+of Paris,' said he, 'with the trades after the names of the people. I
+want you to take it home with you, and to mark off all the hardware
+sellers with their addresses. It would be of the greatest use to me to
+have them.'
+
+"'Surely, there are classified lists?' I suggested.
+
+"'Not reliable ones. Their system is different to ours. Stick at it and
+let me have the lists by Monday, at twelve. Good-day, Mr. Pycroft; if
+you continue to show zeal and intelligence, you will find the company a
+good master.'
+
+"I went back to the hotel with the big book under my arm, and with very
+conflicting feelings in my breast. On the one hand I was definitely
+engaged, and had a hundred pounds in my pocket. On the other, the look
+of the offices, the absence of name on the wall, and other of the points
+which would strike a business man had left a bad impression as to the
+position of my employers. However, come what might, I had my money, so I
+settled down to my task. All Sunday I was kept hard at work, and yet by
+Monday I had only got as far as H. I went round to my employer, found
+him in the same dismantled kind of room, and was told to keep at it
+until Wednesday, and then come again. On Wednesday it was still
+unfinished, so I hammered away until Friday--that is, yesterday. Then I
+brought it round to Mr. Harry Pinner.
+
+"'Thank you very much,' said he. 'I fear that I underrated the
+difficulty of the task. This list will be of very material assistance to
+me.'
+
+"'It took some time,' said I.
+
+"'And now,' said he, 'I want you to make a list of the furniture shops,
+for they all sell crockery.'
+
+"'Very good.'
+
+"'And you can come up to-morrow evening at seven, and let me know how
+you are getting on. Don't overwork yourself. A couple of hours at Day's
+Music-Hall in the evening would do you no harm after your labours.' He
+laughed as he spoke, and I saw with a thrill that his second tooth upon
+the left-hand side had been very badly stuffed with gold."
+
+Sherlock Holmes rubbed his hands with delight, and I stared in
+astonishment at our client.
+
+"You may well look surprised, Dr. Watson, but it is this way," said he.
+"When I was speaking to the other chap in London at the time that he
+laughed at my not going to Mawson's, I happened to notice that his tooth
+was stuffed in this very identical fashion. The glint of the gold in
+each case caught my eye, you see. When I put that with the voice and
+figure being the same, and only those things altered which might be
+changed by a razor or a wig, I could not doubt that it was the same man.
+Of course, you expect two brothers to be alike, but not that they should
+have the same tooth stuffed in the same way. He bowed me out and I found
+myself in the street, hardly knowing whether I was on my head or my
+heels. Back I went to my hotel, put my head in a basin of cold water,
+and tried to think it out. Why had he sent me from London to Birmingham;
+why had he got there before me; and why had he written a letter from
+himself to himself? It was altogether too much for me, and I could make
+no sense of it. And then suddenly it struck me that what was dark to me
+might be very light to Mr. Sherlock Holmes. I had just time to get up to
+town by the night train, to see him this morning, and to bring you both
+back with me to Birmingham."
+
+There was a pause after the stockbroker's clerk had concluded his
+surprising experience. Then Sherlock Holmes cocked his eye at me,
+leaning back on the cushions with a pleased and yet critical face, like
+a connoisseur who had just taken his first sip of a comet vintage.
+
+"Rather fine, Watson, is it not?" said he. "There are points in it which
+please me. I think you will agree with me that an interview with Mr.
+Arthur Harry Pinner in the temporary offices of the Franco-Midland
+Hardware Company, Limited, would be a rather interesting experience for
+both of us."
+
+"But how can we do it?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, easily enough," said Hall Pycroft, cheerily. "You are two friends
+of mine who are in want of a billet, and what could be more natural than
+that I should bring you both round to the managing director?"
+
+"Quite so! Of course!" said Holmes. "I should like to have a look at the
+gentleman and see if I can make anything of his little game. What
+qualities have you, my friend, which would make your services so
+valuable? or is it possible that----" he began biting his nails and
+staring blankly out of the window, and we hardly drew another word from
+him until we were in New Street.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At seven o'clock that evening we were walking, the three of us, down
+Corporation Street to the company's offices.
+
+"It is of no use our being at all before our time," said our client. "He
+only comes there to see me apparently, for the place is deserted up to
+the very hour he names."
+
+"That is suggestive," remarked Holmes.
+
+"By Jove, I told you so!" cried the clerk. "That's he walking ahead of
+us there."
+
+He pointed to a smallish, blonde, well-dressed man, who was bustling
+along the other side of the road. As we watched him he looked across at
+a boy who was bawling out the latest edition of the evening paper, and,
+running over among the cabs and 'buses, he bought one from him. Then
+clutching it in his hand he vanished through a doorway.
+
+"There he goes!" cried Hall Pycroft. "Those are the company's offices
+into which he has gone. Come with me and I'll fix it up as easily as
+possible."
+
+Following his lead we ascended five stories, until we found ourselves
+outside a half-opened door, at which our client tapped. A voice within
+bade us "Come in," and we entered a bare, unfurnished room, such as Hall
+Pycroft had described. At the single table sat the man whom we had seen
+in the street, with his evening paper spread out in front of him, and as
+he looked up at us it seemed to me that I had never looked upon a face
+which bore such marks of grief, and of something beyond grief--of a
+horror such as comes to few men in a lifetime. His brow glistened with
+perspiration, his cheeks were of the dull dead white of a fish's belly,
+and his eyes were wild and staring. He looked at his clerk as though he
+failed to recognise him, and I could see, by the astonishment depicted
+upon our conductor's face, that this was by no means the usual
+appearance of his employer.
+
+[Illustration: "HE LOOKED UP AT US."]
+
+"You look ill, Mr. Pinner," he exclaimed.
+
+"Yes, I am not very well," answered the other, making obvious efforts to
+pull himself together, and licking his dry lips before he spoke. "Who
+are these gentlemen whom you have brought with you?"
+
+"One is Mr. Harris, of Bermondsey, and the other is Mr. Price, of this
+town," said our clerk, glibly. "They are friends of mine, and gentlemen
+of experience, but they have been out of a place for some little time,
+and they hoped that perhaps you might find an opening for them in the
+company's employment."
+
+"Very possibly! Very possibly!" cried Mr. Pinner, with a ghastly smile.
+"Yes, I have no doubt that we shall be able to do something for you.
+What is your particular line, Mr. Harris?"
+
+"I am an accountant," said Holmes.
+
+"Ah, yes, we shall want something of the sort. And you, Mr. Price?"
+
+"A clerk," said I.
+
+"I have every hope that the company may accommodate you. I will let you
+know about it as soon as we come to any conclusion. And now I beg that
+you will go. For God's sake, leave me to myself!"
+
+These last words were shot out of him, as though the constraint which he
+was evidently setting upon himself had suddenly and utterly burst
+asunder. Holmes and I glanced at each other, and Hall Pycroft took a
+step towards the table.
+
+"You forget, Mr. Pinner, that I am here by appointment to receive some
+directions from you," said he.
+
+"Certainly, Mr. Pycroft, certainly," the other answered in a calmer
+tone. "You may wait here a moment, and there is no reason why your
+friends should not wait with you. I will be entirely at your service in
+three minutes, if I might trespass upon your patience so far." He rose
+with a very courteous air, and bowing to us he passed out through a door
+at the further end of the room, which he closed behind him.
+
+"What now?" whispered Holmes. "Is he giving us the slip?"
+
+"Impossible," answered Pycroft.
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"That door leads into an inner room."
+
+"There is no exit?"
+
+"None."
+
+"Is it furnished?"
+
+"It was empty yesterday."
+
+"Then what on earth can he be doing? There is something which I don't
+understand in this matter. If ever a man was three parts mad with
+terror, that man's name is Pinner. What can have put the shivers on
+him?"
+
+"He suspects that we are detectives," I suggested.
+
+"That's it," said Pycroft.
+
+Holmes shook his head. "He did not turn pale. He _was_ pale when we
+entered the room," said he. "It is just possible that----"
+
+His words were interrupted by a sharp rat-tat from the direction of the
+inner door.
+
+"What the deuce is he knocking at his own door for?" cried the clerk.
+
+Again and much louder came the rat-tat-tat. We all gazed expectantly at
+the closed door. Glancing at Holmes I saw his face turn rigid, and he
+leaned forward in intense excitement. Then suddenly came a low gurgling,
+gargling sound and a brisk drumming upon woodwork. Holmes sprang
+frantically across the room and pushed at the door. It was fastened on
+the inner side. Following his example, we threw ourselves upon it with
+all our weight. One hinge snapped, then the other, and down came the
+door with a crash. Rushing over it we found ourselves in the inner room.
+
+[Illustration: "WE FOUND OURSELVES IN THE INNER ROOM."]
+
+It was empty.
+
+But it was only for a moment that we were at fault. At one corner, the
+corner nearest the room which we had left, there was a second door.
+Holmes sprang to it and pulled it open. A coat and waistcoat were lying
+on the floor, and from a hook behind the door, with his own braces round
+his neck, was hanging the managing director of the Franco-Midland
+Hardware Company. His knees were drawn up, his head hung at a dreadful
+angle to his body, and the clatter of his heels against the door made
+the noise which had broken in upon our conversation. In an instant I had
+caught him round the waist and held him up, while Holmes and Pycroft
+untied the elastic bands which had disappeared between the livid creases
+of skin. Then we carried him into the other room, where he lay with a
+clay-coloured face, puffing his purple lips in and out with every
+breath--a dreadful wreck of all that he had been but five minutes
+before.
+
+"What do you think of him, Watson?" asked Holmes.
+
+I stooped over him and examined him.
+
+His pulse was feeble and intermittent, but his breathing grew longer,
+and there was a little shivering of his eyelids which showed a thin
+white slit of ball beneath.
+
+"It has been touch and go with him," said I, "but he'll live now. Just
+open that window and hand me the water carafe." I undid his collar,
+poured the cold water over his face, and raised and sank his arms until
+he drew a long natural breath.
+
+"It's only a question of time now," said I, as I turned away from him.
+
+Holmes stood by the table with his hands deep in his trousers pockets
+and his chin upon his breast.
+
+"I suppose we ought to call the police in now," said he; "and yet I
+confess that I like to give them a complete case when they come."
+
+"It's a blessed mystery to me," cried Pycroft, scratching his head.
+"Whatever they wanted to bring me all the way up here for, and then----"
+
+"Pooh! All that is clear enough," said Holmes, impatiently. "It is this
+last sudden move."
+
+"You understand the rest, then?"
+
+"I think that it is fairly obvious. What do you say, Watson?"
+
+I shrugged my shoulders.
+
+"I must confess that I am out of my depths," said I.
+
+"Oh, surely, if you consider the events at first they can only point to
+one conclusion."
+
+"What do you make of them?"
+
+"Well, the whole thing hinges upon two points. The first is the making
+of Pycroft write a declaration by which he entered the service of this
+preposterous company. Do you not see how very suggestive that is?"
+
+"I am afraid I miss the point."
+
+"Well, why did they want him to do it? Not as a business matter, for
+these arrangements are usually verbal, and there was no earthly business
+reason why this should be an exception. Don't you see, my young friend,
+that they were very anxious to obtain a specimen of your handwriting,
+and had no other way of doing it?"
+
+"And why?"
+
+"Quite so. Why? When we answer that, we have made some progress with our
+little problem. Why? There can be only one adequate reason. Someone
+wanted to learn to imitate your writing, and had to procure a specimen
+of it first. And now if we pass on to the second point, we find that
+each throws light upon the other. That point is the request made by
+Pinner that you should not resign your place, but should leave the
+manager of this important business in the full expectation that a Mr.
+Hall Pycroft, whom he had never seen, was about to enter the office upon
+the Monday morning."
+
+"My God!" cried our client, "what a blind beetle I have been!"
+
+"Now you see the point about the handwriting. Suppose that someone
+turned up in your place who wrote a completely different hand from that
+in which you had applied for the vacancy, of course the game would have
+been up. But in the interval the rogue learnt to imitate you, and his
+position was therefore secure, as I presume that nobody in the office
+had ever set eyes upon you?"
+
+"Not a soul," groaned Hall Pycroft.
+
+"Very good. Of course, it was of the utmost importance to prevent you
+from thinking better of it, and also to keep you from coming into
+contact with anyone who might tell you that your double was at work in
+Mawson's office. Therefore they gave you a handsome advance on your
+salary, and ran you off to the Midlands, where they gave you enough work
+to do to prevent your going to London, where you might have burst their
+little game up. That is all plain enough."
+
+"But why should this man pretend to be his own brother?"
+
+"Well, that is pretty clear also. There are evidently only two of them
+in it. The other is personating you at the office. This one acted as
+your engager, and then found that he could not find you an employer
+without admitting a third person into his plot. That he was most
+unwilling to do. He changed his appearance as far as he could, and
+trusted that the likeness, which you could not fail to observe, would be
+put down to a family resemblance. But for the happy chance of the gold
+stuffing your suspicions would probably have never been aroused."
+
+Hall Pycroft shook his clenched hands in the air. "Good Lord!" he cried.
+"While I have been fooled in this way, what has this other Hall Pycroft
+been doing at Mawson's? What should we do, Mr. Holmes? Tell me what to
+do!"
+
+"We must wire to Mawson's."
+
+"They shut at twelve on Saturdays."
+
+"Never mind; there may be some doorkeeper or attendant----"
+
+"Ah, yes; they keep a permanent guard there on account of the value of
+the securities that they hold. I remember hearing it talked of in the
+City."
+
+[Illustration: "PYCROFT SHOOK HIS CLENCHED HANDS IN THE AIR."]
+
+"Very good, we shall wire to him, and see if all is well, and if a clerk
+of your name is working there. That is clear enough, but what is not so
+clear is why at sight of us one of the rogues should instantly walk out
+of the room and hang himself."
+
+"The paper!" croaked a voice behind us. The man was sitting up, blanched
+and ghastly, with returning reason in his eyes, and hands which rubbed
+nervously at the broad red band which still encircled his throat.
+
+"The paper! Of course!" yelled Holmes, in a paroxysm of excitement.
+"Idiot that I was! I thought so much of our visit that the paper never
+entered my head for an instant. To be sure the secret must lie there."
+He flattened it out upon the table, and a cry of triumph burst from his
+lips.
+
+"Look at this, Watson!" he cried. "It is a London paper, an early
+edition of the _Evening Standard_. Here is what we want. Look at the
+headlines--'Crime in the City. Murder at Mawson and Williams'. Gigantic
+Attempted Robbery; Capture of the Criminal.' Here, Watson, we are all
+equally anxious to hear it, so kindly read it aloud to us."
+
+It appeared from its position in the paper to have been the one event of
+importance in town, and the account of it ran in this way:--
+
+"A desperate attempt at robbery, culminating in the death of one man and
+the capture of the criminal, occurred this afternoon in the City. For
+some time back Mawson and Williams, the famous financial house, have
+been the guardians of securities which amount in the aggregate to a sum
+of considerably over a million sterling. So conscious was the manager of
+the responsibility which devolved upon him in consequence of the great
+interests at stake, that safes of the very latest construction have been
+employed, and an armed watchman has been left day and night in the
+building. It appears that last week a new clerk, named Hall Pycroft, was
+engaged by the firm. This person appears to have been none other than
+Beddington, the famous forger and cracksman, who, with his brother, has
+only recently emerged from a five years' spell of penal servitude. By
+some means, which are not yet clear, he succeeded in winning, under a
+false name, this official position in the office, which he utilized in
+order to obtain mouldings of various locks, and a thorough knowledge of
+the position of the strong room and the safes.
+
+"It is customary at Mawson's for the clerks to leave at midday on
+Saturday. Sergeant Tuson, of the City Police, was somewhat surprised
+therefore to see a gentleman with a carpet bag come down the steps at
+twenty minutes past one. His suspicions being aroused, the sergeant
+followed the man, and with the aid of Constable Pollock succeeded, after
+a most desperate resistance, in arresting him. It was at once clear that
+a daring and gigantic robbery had been committed. Nearly a hundred
+thousand pounds worth of American railway bonds, with a large amount of
+scrip in other mines and companies, were discovered in the bag. On
+examining the premises the body of the unfortunate watchman was found
+doubled up and thrust into the largest of the safes, where it would not
+have been discovered until Monday morning had it not been for the prompt
+action of Sergeant Tuson. The man's skull had been shattered by a blow
+from a poker, delivered from behind. There could be no doubt that
+Beddington had obtained entrance by pretending that he had left
+something behind him, and having murdered the watchman, rapidly rifled
+the large safe, and then made off with his booty. His brother, who
+usually works with him, has not appeared in this job, so far as can at
+present be ascertained, although the police are making energetic
+inquiries as to his whereabouts."
+
+[Illustration: "GLANCING AT THE HAGGARD FIGURE."]
+
+"Well, we may save the police some little trouble in that direction,"
+said Holmes, glancing at the haggard figure huddled up by the window.
+"Human nature is a strange mixture, Watson. You see that even a villain
+and a murderer can inspire such affection that his brother turns to
+suicide when he learns that his neck is forfeited. However, we have no
+choice as to our action. The doctor and I will remain on guard, Mr.
+Pycroft, if you will have the kindness to step out for the police."
+
+
+
+
+_Beauties._
+
+[Illustration: FROM PHOTOGRAPHS BY MESSRS. ELLIOTT AND FRY, BAKER
+STREET, W.]
+
+[Illustration: Miss Webster
+
+Madame Shirmer-Mapleson
+
+Madame Sigrid Arnoldson]
+
+[Illustration: Miss ALICE LETHBRIDGE
+
+Miss Flo Henderson
+
+Mdlle. Del Torre]
+
+
+
+
+_Hands._
+
+BY BECKLES WILLSON.
+
+II.
+
+
+[Illustration: CASTING A HAND FROM LIFE.
+
+(_Studio of Mr. Onslow Ford, A.R.A._)]
+
+The sculptor's practice of casting in plaster the hands of his client is
+of comparatively recent growth. The artist of the old school--and he is
+followed in this by many of the new--disdained so mechanical a means to
+fidelity. Very few, indeed, among the British painters and sculptors of
+the past will be found who took the pains to see that the hands or even
+the figures of their counterfeit presentments on canvas or in marble
+tallied with the originals. Sir Joshua Reynolds, as we know, would have
+regarded this as the essence of finical vulgarity.
+
+The principal drawback in making casts from life is to be found in the
+discomfort, not to speak of the actual torment, it often causes the
+sitter by the adhesion of the plaster to the hairy growth of the skin.
+Various methods are resorted to with a view to obviate this, and in some
+cases successfully.
+
+The hands of Thomas Carlyle--stubborn, combative, mystical--which appear
+in the present paper, will amply repay the closest scrutiny. These hands
+are unwontedly realistic, and emphasize their distinctiveness in every
+vein and wrinkle. They appear to be themselves endowed with each of
+those various qualities which caused their possessor to be regarded as
+one of the most puissant figures in the century's literature. The hand
+is not one, to use Charles Lamb's expressive phrase, to be looked at
+_standing on one leg_. It deserves a keener examination.
+
+[Illustration: THOMAS CARLYLE'S HANDS.]
+
+Mention has been made of the hand of a distinguished prelate, Cardinal
+Manning. It will not be out of place to compare it with the hands of
+the late Archbishop of Canterbury, which were cast posthumously.
+Scarcely anything could be more antagonistic. The nervous personality of
+Manning is wanting here. The hands of the Archbishop seem more to belong
+to the order of the benevolent Bishop Myriel than to that of the
+enthusiast and ascetic.
+
+[Illustration: THE LATE ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY'S HANDS.]
+
+[Illustration: LORD PALMERSTON'S HAND.]
+
+Plenty of opportunity to study the hands of statesmen is afforded in
+those of Lord Palmerston, Count Cavour, Sir Stratford Canning, and Lord
+Melbourne. The fallacy of attaching special qualities to any distinctive
+trait in the hand of an eminent person is most readily discernible here.
+One should avoid _à posteriori_ reasoning. It would be the same for a
+physiognomist to argue a man a statesman from a facial resemblance to
+Mr. Gladstone, or that he is fit to write tragedies because he owns the
+exact facial proportions of Sardou.
+
+[Illustration: COUNT CAVOUR'S HANDS.]
+
+[Illustration: SIR STRATFORD CANNING'S HANDS.]
+
+Among these the hand of Lord Palmerston will stand forth most
+prominently to the reader. Its characteristics are, on the whole,
+sufficiently obvious, in the appended cast, to be thought accentuated.
+It might not unprofitably be noted in connection with those of Stratford
+Canning, Viscount de Redcliffe (for fifty years British Ambassador in
+India), whose statue by Boehm, with Tennyson's famous epitaph:
+
+    Thou third great Canning, stand among our best
+      And noblest, now thy long day's work hath ceased,
+    Here, silent in our Minster of the West,
+      Who wert the voice of England in the East!
+
+is in a nave of the Abbey. With these should be joined the hand of
+Viscount Melbourne, the predecessor of Sir Robert Peel in the
+Premiership, and the great statesman after whom the city of Melbourne
+was named, in order to range this British galaxy against the hands of
+the Italian patriots, Count Cavour and Joseph Garibaldi, whose labours
+resulted in that master stroke of latter-day politics, the unification
+of Italy. Those of the former were cast separately in different
+positions, it being the intention of the sculptor for the right hand to
+rest lightly upon a column and the left to grasp a roll of parchment.
+Garibaldi's hand may be described as both virile and nervous.
+
+[Illustration: LORD MELBOURNE'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: HAND OF JOHN BURNS, M.P.]
+
+[Illustration: HAND OF JOSEPH ARCH, M.P.]
+
+[Illustration: GARIBALDI'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: SIR E. BOEHM'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: HAND OF JOHN JACKSON, R.A.]
+
+Another type of hand is exemplified in the hands of Messrs. Joseph Arch
+and John Burns. Both of these belong to self-made men, accustomed to
+hard manual labour from childhood. Their powerful ruggedness is
+admirably set off by the exquisite symmetry and feminine proportions of
+the hand of John Jackson a Royal Academician and great painter of his
+time. For symmetry, combined with grace, this hand is not surpassed.
+
+The hand of Sir Edgar Boehm was cast by his assistant, Professor
+Lantéri, for the former's statue of Sir Francis Drake. It will be
+observed that the fingers grasp a pair of compasses, the original of
+those which appear in the bronze at Plymouth.
+
+[Illustration: LADY BLESSINGTON'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: MRS. CARLYLE'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: MRS. THORNYCROFT'S HAND.]
+
+Reverting to the ladies again, interest will, no doubt, centre upon the
+hand of the celebrated Lady Blessington, accounted the wittiest hostess
+of her day; and not least attractive will appear Mrs. Carlyle's and
+those of Mrs. Thornycroft and the celebrated Madame Tussaud. The wife of
+the Chelsea sage was herself, as is known, an authoress of no mean
+repute.
+
+A comparison of the hand of Mr. Bancroft with that of Mr. Irving, given
+last month, will prove interesting, if not instructive.
+
+[Illustration: MME. TUSSAUD'S HAND.]
+
+It has been said that the hands of Carlyle are characteristic; that they
+possess, with those of Wilkie Collins, the merit of being precisely the
+sort of hands one would expect to see so labelled. We now present a
+third candidate for this merit of candour in casts of the hands of the
+notorious Arthur Orton, better known under the sobriquet of the
+Claimant. They are pulseless, chubby, oblique: yet they are remarkable.
+In scrutinizing them, it is difficult not to feel that one looks upon
+hands very remote indeed from the ordinary.
+
+[Illustration: MR. BANCROFT'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: HANDS OF THE TICHBORNE CLAIMANT.]
+
+Next we look upon the hand of a giant even superior to Anak, in
+Loushkin, the Russian. But physically great as was the Muscovite, it is
+to be doubted if he really attained the world-wide celebrity of the
+little American, Charles Stratton (otherwise known as "Tom Thumb"),
+whose extremity serves as a foil to his rival for exhibition honours.
+
+Another Boehm relic requires some explanation. Every visitor to the
+Metropolis has doubtless seen and admired the heroic equestrian statue
+of the Duke of Wellington, opposite Apsley House. They may even have
+noticed the right hand, which is represented as lightly holding the rein
+of the animal. The appended was cast from the original model in clay of
+the hand of the Duke, no cast direct from life ever having been
+executed.
+
+[Illustration: THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON'S HAND.]
+
+It is sufficient to say that the subjoined hand and arm of Lady
+Cardigan, wife of the noted Crimean warrior, was one greatly admired by
+Sir Edgar, in whose studio it hung for many years. In like manner will
+the hand of Lady Richard Grosvenor be found the possessor of many
+beautiful and interesting traits.
+
+[Illustration: THE HANDS OF "TOM THUMB" AND LOUSHKIN, THE RUSSIAN
+GIANT.]
+
+[Illustration: LADY CARDIGAN'S HAND.]
+
+A member not altogether dissimilar to that of the musician Liszt is the
+hand of Carl von Angeli, Court painter to Her Majesty, and like that
+also in setting at naught the conclusions too often arrived at by the
+chirognomist. For there is here breadth without symmetry, and an utter
+absence of the poise which we look for in the ideal hand of the artist.
+It is instructive to compare it to the hand of the painter, John
+Jackson.
+
+[Illustration: LADY RICHARD GROSVENOR'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: CARL ANGELI'S HAND.]
+
+Observe the massive, masculine fingers and disproportionately small
+finger-nails in the hands of Professor Weekes, the sculptor. There is
+scarcely any perceptible tapering at the third joint, and the fingers
+all exhibit very little prominence of knuckle or contour. It is anything
+but an artistic hand, and yet its owner was a man of the keenest
+artistic perceptions.
+
+In Frederick Baring's (Lord Ashburton) we find the thick-set fingers,
+and what the chirognomist calls the "lack of manual repose," of the
+great financier. But as his lordship was statesman with a talent for
+debate as well as man of commerce, it will not unlikely be found that
+the hand presented combines the both temperaments.
+
+[Illustration: PROFESSOR WEEKES' HANDS.]
+
+[Illustration: LORD ASHBURTON'S HAND.]
+
+I have been enabled, through the kindness of Mr. J. T. Tussaud, to
+embellish the present collection by an ancient cast of the hand of the
+Comte de Lorge, a famous prisoner in the Bastille. This cast was taken,
+together with a death mask, after death, by the great-grandmother of the
+sculptor, to whom both relics have descended.
+
+The Queen's hands, which appeared in the last issue of this Magazine,
+were cast by John Francis, a famous sculptor of the day. Mr. Hamo
+Thorneycroft, R.A., writes me to say that "While the moulds were being
+made Her Majesty removed all the rings from her fingers _except_ the
+wedding ring. This she was most anxious should not come off, and was in
+considerable fear lest the moulding process might remove it."
+
+[Illustration: COMTE DE LORGE'S HAND.]
+
+
+[_The original drawings of the illustrations in this Magazine are always
+on view, and on sale, in the Art Gallery at these offices, which is open
+to the public without charge._]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: ROSITA]
+
+FROM THE FRENCH OF PITRE CHEVALIER.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+It was harvest day at a house in the little village of Panola, in
+Castile, on the 25th of August, 1838. The great sheaves of corn had been
+borne, amidst universal rejoicing, to their resting-place in the
+granary. All the village inhabitants had shared in this pleasant task,
+and now, following an ancient custom, they had erected a trophy composed
+of a few last sheaves of corn, round which the young girls and men began
+to dance gaily, to the sound of guitars and castanets.
+
+Within the house, in a room which overlooked this charming scene, were
+two men.
+
+The first, seated at a table, was an old man over sixty, but enfeebled
+rather by cares than by age. His venerable head, crowned with white
+hair, drooped upon his breast with patriarchal dignity. The old man, who
+had been a soldier in the Spanish army, was Don Pedro de la Sarga, a
+Castilian as noble as he was poor. His companion was his son, Don
+Stephano, a young man of twenty, considered the most accomplished man in
+Panola. He was handsome; his warm, brown skin, his large, black eyes,
+the regular features, which wore that expression of national pride which
+distinguishes a Castilian from any other race, and his raven-black hair
+were eminently the Spanish type in all its grace and haughtiness. The
+young man wore the Spanish holiday costume, the richness of which has
+made travellers exclaim, more than once, that no European prince is
+clothed like a simple peasant of Castile. Stephano had on a short vest
+of black cloth, lined with yellow silk, ornamented with fringes and
+bunches of ribbons; an embroidered shirt with open collar revealing a
+waistcoat with gilt buttons, knee-breeches of black silk confined at the
+knees by bunches of ribbons, shoes and gaiters of fine brown leather,
+while a black felt hat with drooping plume completed his costume.
+
+Stephano's gloomy face contrasted with his gay attire. He leant against
+the open window, carelessly holding in his hand a bouquet of faded
+jasmine, whilst he gazed with melancholy eyes upon the festive scene
+before him, and only by a shake of the head and a sad smile replied to
+the light badinage of the dancers as they passed the window. But now and
+then his eyes lighted up, and he sighed deeply as a certain dancer,
+prettier than the rest, approached him.
+
+"How pretty she is!" he murmured, as he followed her retreating form.
+
+"Stephano!" called out the old man, who had been watching his son for
+some time.
+
+"How gracefully she dances," continued the handsome dreamer, wrapt in
+his thoughts.
+
+"Stephano!" repeated the old man.
+
+"Yes, father," cried Stephano, with a start, and coming forward. "Do you
+wish to speak to me?"
+
+"From your mysterious air and endless sighs these last few days,
+Stephano, I conclude that you are in love," said his father.
+
+"In love!" stammered the young man. "You think I am in love?"
+
+"I do not think, my son--I am sure of it; and I have only one reproach
+to make to you, and that is that you have not made me a confidant of
+your secret before."
+
+"You shall know all, father," said Stephano, drawing a chair close to
+Don Pedro.
+
+"For the last month," he continued, "I have had in my heart a love which
+nothing can subdue, and the object of my passion is a young girl here, a
+glance from whose eyes is worth more to me than all the world besides;
+but she shuns my love, and on every occasion strives to avoid me. She
+hardly permits me to speak to her for fear that the passion she reads in
+my eyes will break into words."
+
+"Bah!" said the old man, merrily; "it is very likely that she shuns you
+for the reason of your not opening your mouth; you scare the young girl
+with your morose airs."
+
+"Oh, if that were only true," sighed the disconsolate swain.
+
+"Now," said the old man, "there only remains for me to know the name of
+my future daughter-in-law."
+
+The young man was about to pronounce the name which already trembled on
+his lips when a sudden clamour interrupted the most interesting portion
+of this conversation. The peasants, followed by the partners, were
+rushing towards the house, and in the twinkling of an eye the room was
+filled with the animated and noisy throng. The new-comers wore rich
+costumes, more or less copies of Stephano's; some carried guitars,
+others castanets, while most of them leaned upon tall peeled rods,
+forked at the top, and ornamented with ribbons of all colours; each
+carried on the left side of his vest a bouquet similar to that of
+Stephano. The young girls in their silken bodices, short skirts, red
+stockings and mantillas, rattled their castanets as they entered with
+their partners. The joyous crowd surrounded Don Pedro, whilst cries of
+"Rosita! Rosita!" resounded from all sides.
+
+"Well, well, my children, what is it you want?" demanded the village
+Nestor of his clamorous audience.
+
+"We want Mlle. Rosita," they repeated.
+
+"What, my niece? But is she not with you? I thought it was she whom you
+were leading just now round the corn sheaves."
+
+"That is true," replied one of the foremost of the crowd; "everything
+went smoothly until we wished her to take part in our usual ceremony of
+'The Maiden's Choice.'"
+
+"Did you explain to her," asked the old man, "what is the ceremony?"
+
+"Yes, we told her all that was necessary: that it is an old custom in
+Panola on harvest day, after having escorted the daughter of the house
+round the last sheaves of corn, for all her admirers in the village to
+present her, each in his turn, with a bouquet; that she must then choose
+the one she loves amongst them by retaining his bouquet, whilst the
+others are rejected. She answered us by saying that she had only been in
+Panola a few months, and was therefore not forced to adopt our customs,
+and leaving us with these words she fled from us and escaped through the
+little granary door."
+
+"The little shrew!" Don Pedro exclaimed, who, like an amiable old man,
+was always on the side of the young folk. "But my friends," he added,
+"you are but poor Lotharios to be flouted by a young girl; you must
+follow her and bring her back."
+
+"That is just what we have done; but one cannot catch a bird without
+also having wings. She seemed to fly as we followed her, and on reaching
+the granary she entered and slammed the door in our faces; so we have
+come, as a last resource, to you, Don Pedro, to ask her to comply with
+our wishes."
+
+"You are right," replied the old man, with all the gravity of a judge,
+"you must be satisfied at once"; and he looked round for Don Stephano,
+who was standing more moody than ever behind a giggling group of young
+peasants.
+
+"My son," he said, "go and bring your cousin here. If she refuses, tell
+her that I particularly wish her to come."
+
+"I will go, father," said Stephano, after a second's hesitation; and he
+went out.
+
+There was a slight pause; then shouts and acclamations and rattling of
+castanets burst forth, as Rosita, with downcast eyes, entered the room,
+led by Stephano. Well might they welcome with fervour such a charming
+creature. Rosita was just eighteen. She wore upon her golden brown hair
+a black lace mantilla, which contrasted with her creamy complexion and
+the liquid depth of her large brown eyes. A brown velvet bodice showed
+off to perfection her slight yet rounded figure; and her silk skirts
+just revealed her pretty ankles and small feet in their silk stockings
+and neat shoes.
+
+Rosita was a native of Navarre. She had quitted Tafalla, her native
+village, on the death of her father and mother, who had been victims of
+the Civil War which at this time desolated the country, and had been
+conducted not without peril to her uncle's house at Panola, in which she
+had since taken up her abode.
+
+"Rosita," said Don Pedro to his niece, taking her hand, "I have made
+your apologies to your friends for the trick you have played them. It is
+your turn now to atone for your misdeed, by submitting to an old custom.
+Among the brave Castilians who surround you there are many suitors for
+your hand. There must be one among them whom you secretly favour. Your
+choice is entirely free, and even the favoured one after the ceremony
+will then have only the right to please you and to merit your hand."
+
+"But, uncle----" faltered the young girl.
+
+"I will take no denial, my dear," interrupted the old man.
+
+Rosita strove in vain to protest, but her imperturbable uncle would not
+listen, and gave a sign to the peasants to begin the ceremony, in which
+he seemed to take as keen an interest as they did themselves. Thereupon
+the majority of the young men, darting furious glances of jealousy at
+one another, prepared for the contest. Rosita, at her uncle's side,
+stood at one end of the room. At her right and left were grouped the
+young peasant girls, admiring without envy the queen of the _fête_, and
+forming her court. Stephano stood behind with dejected mien. Those with
+guitars touched their instruments lightly now and then, and upon this
+scene, worthy of the pencil of Leopold Roberts, the sun, now setting at
+the horizon, cast a calm and solemn light.
+
+The first peasant who came forward was a tall young man, with a ruddy
+complexion.
+
+"My name is Geronimo Caldaroz, and I am twenty-five. It has been the
+talk of the village why I did not marry, and it has been said it was
+because I had never yet seen a maiden beautiful enough to please me. But
+now I have found her; it is you, Rosita. Will you accept my bouquet?" He
+presented his bouquet to the young girl, who blushed as she received it,
+and then let it fall.
+
+"Refused! Refused!" whispered the spectators, whilst the young man
+disappeared into the crowd, and a second one took his place. But the
+same thing occurred, and with the same result. Soon the jasmine bouquets
+covered the ground round the young girl's feet. The rejected suitors
+multiplied so fast that they could no longer hide their discomfiture
+amongst the others. Restless and smiling, Don Pedro wondered why his
+niece was so severe, and the remaining suitors seemed to hesitate
+whether to advance into the lists or not. Then the last three timidly
+advanced one by one toward Rosita. The two first were not even heard to
+the end of their speech, and then all eyes were fixed with interest upon
+the last. Rosita let him finish his discourse, took his bouquet, which
+she scrutinized demurely, and then uttering a deep sigh let it fall upon
+the amorous trophy piled at her feet.
+
+A murmur rose amongst the stupefied villagers. Don Pedro approached his
+niece.
+
+"Well, my child," he said, "have you thought of what you have done?"
+
+"Yes, uncle," Rosita replied. "Did you not tell me yourself that I was
+perfectly free?"
+
+"Free to choose, without doubt; but not to send all your suitors away."
+
+Rosita cast down her eyes and made no reply.
+
+"Pardon me, father, but there still remains one," said Stephano,
+breaking the silence.
+
+"Where is he?" everyone asked at once.
+
+"Here he is."
+
+Rosita trembled so violently that she was compelled to lean for support
+upon her uncle's arm, and Don Pedro, more astonished than anyone, rushed
+towards his son.
+
+"What, Stephano?" he said joyfully. "It is your cousin whom----"
+
+"Yes, father," replied the young man. "It is she whom I love."
+
+In the midst of such general interest Stephano, pale with emotion,
+advanced towards his cousin.
+
+"Rosita, I love you," he said, simply. "Will you keep this bouquet which
+I offer to you?"
+
+The young man pronounced these words with a voice so sweet and
+expressive, and the gesture with which he offered the symbolic flower
+was so imploring and passionate, that a sympathetic thrill ran through
+the spectators, and tears bedimmed Don Pedro's eyes.
+
+[Illustration: "'ROSITA, I LOVE YOU,' HE SAID."]
+
+Rosita, not less pale than her cousin, took the bouquet with a trembling
+hand, gazed upon it tenderly, then made a movement as if to throw it
+down, paused, and then at last, with head turned aside, let it fall.
+
+"Santa Maria! He also!" cried the crowd, mournfully.
+
+"Do not condemn me without hearing my justification," cried Rosita,
+turning to Don Pedro.
+
+"Your justification?" repeated Stephano, with relief.
+
+"Uncle," she said, after a pause, "there is a secret which I may have
+been wrong in concealing from you hitherto, but I must confide it to you
+alone."
+
+"To me!" cried the astonished old man.
+
+"I will come with you at once," and, seizing Rosita's hand, he led her
+away, making signs to the peasants as he did so to disperse.
+
+Stephano strolled out to breathe the air upon the hills, whose shadows
+were beginning to slope down into the valley. The sky was lighted only
+by the afterglow of the red, sunken sun; the evening breeze carried
+along in the warm air the perfume of the jasmine flowers and orange
+groves in bloom, and no sound was heard but the music of guitars and
+castanets, mingled sometimes with the faint tinkle of sheep bells.
+
+When Stephano re-entered he found his father and cousin in the lower
+hall. Rosita, on perceiving him, made a pretext for rising, and
+hurriedly left the room. Don Pedro and his son were left alone.
+
+"One word, father," said Stephano. "Does Rosita love me, and will she
+also become my wife?"
+
+"You must forget Rosita," replied the old man. "You must tear from your
+heart even the remembrance of your love."
+
+The young man abandoned himself to despair.
+
+"I shall never forget her," he said, passionately. "My love for Rosita
+will only cease with my life."
+
+And he rushed from the room, leaving the old man wondering.
+
+
+II.
+
+For some weeks the inmates of Don Pedro's house were forced to remain
+prisoners, for rebel soldiers filled the neighbouring villages, and
+troops of guerillas were being mustered to put them to flight. It was a
+morning, early in September, just after the sun had peered above the
+horizon. A fine rain had fallen during the night, and the drops which
+rested on the foliage sparkled like myriads of diamonds. The streets
+were as yet deserted; some muleteers alone passed along them at
+intervals. Don Pedro's house was the only one astir.
+
+Don Stephano, according to his custom, had risen with the dawn, and was
+now alone in the lower hall, standing opposite the window which
+overlooked the high road. He was occupied in fixing an iron lance upon a
+wooden rod, at which he gazed abstractedly.
+
+The sound of a voice filling the air with song attracted his attention;
+it was singing the Moorish romance of "Adlemar and Adalifa," and to the
+quick perception of a Spanish ear was marked with a slight Ultramontaine
+accent, which Stephano discerned like a true Castilian. Without moving
+he listened to the song which awoke the echoes of the valley. The
+amorous words recalled to Stephano's mind the thought of Rosita, and he
+sighed deeply. Then he listened anew to the voice, which grew nearer and
+nearer, and in which, in spite of its strange accent, he seemed to hear
+an understrain of singular emotion. His conjectures were not long,
+however. A man enveloped in a large mantle peered in at the open window,
+and after throwing a rapid glance behind him leapt into the room.
+Stephano recoiled at the sight of such a strange visitor, and felt
+tempted to seize the man, whom he took at first for a robber. Then a
+troop of horsemen dashed past the house. The stranger gave a sigh of
+relief. Then for the first time he caught sight of Stephano.
+
+"I must be careful," the soldier muttered, as he drew his cloak more
+carefully round him. "This Spaniard does not look over benevolent."
+
+"Who can this man be?" thought Stephano, as he instinctively put his
+hand on his pistols; but on seeing the stranger advance towards him with
+a pleasant smile, he paused.
+
+"Noble Castilian," said the stranger, "are you a man to oblige an enemy
+in peril, and who for a quarter of an hour wishes you no more harm than
+if you were his brother?"
+
+Before replying, Stephano scrutinized his questioner. He saw before him
+a man of about twenty-eight, with a frank face and light hair and
+moustache. His accent, and the blue pantaloons which appeared under the
+brown mantle, proclaimed him a Frenchman.
+
+[Illustration: "THE STRANGER."]
+
+"No unarmed man is my enemy," replied Stephano, "and from the moment my
+roof was over your head you became my guest."
+
+"Shake hands on it! You are a fine fellow," cried the soldier, holding
+out his hand. At the same time he drew aside his mantle, and Stephano
+recognised the uniform worn by the French volunteers of Don Carlos's
+army. "Now, if you have a drop of anything to drink handy, I will tell
+you in a few words what has brought me here."
+
+Stephano opened the sideboard, and brought out a bottle and glasses. The
+soldier wiped his moustache as he began.
+
+"You see before you," he said, with frank abruptness, "Charles
+Dulaurier, a soldier by birth and profession, lieutenant in the
+Grenadiers of His Majesty Charles V.--pardon me, Don Carlos. Being
+stationed some few miles from here, I asked for leave of absence this
+morning to join some troops which (pardon me) are going to make a raid
+upon this very village this morning. But, thanks to my foolhardiness in
+starting off alone, I soon found myself in the hands of guerillas. I
+escaped. They pursued me. But I, though alone in a strange country and
+unarmed, led them a nice dance for half an hour. I was just about to
+fall again into their hands when I came in sight of this house. I duped
+them by my ruse of pitching my voice in such a manner as to lead them to
+think I was beyond the village, whilst I at the same time took refuge
+here. To conclude, my worthy fellow, no doubt the guerillas are not
+blind, and not finding any trace of me upon the route, will return to
+Panola. Consequently, if you are a host to my liking you will----"
+
+"Conceal you," said Stephano, quickly. "You are right!" and he glanced
+round with uneasiness. The lieutenant struck him on the shoulder. "One
+minute," he said; "the guerillas cannot reappear for half an hour. This
+little expedition, as you may imagine, was not my only motive for coming
+to Panola, and I must again abuse your patience in asking you some
+questions upon a certain subject which is the motive of my expedition."
+
+"Go on," replied Stephano, with resignation.
+
+"I came here to look for a young girl," said the Frenchman, twisting his
+moustache, "and as, perhaps, you will be so good as to give me some
+information on this point, it would be better for you to know the story.
+Last year my regiment, after a vigorous resistance, entered a village in
+Navarre."
+
+"A village in Navarre?" repeated Stephano, and his brow darkened.
+
+"One house had been so well defended, indeed, that it was found
+necessary to surround it, and our infuriated soldiers, drunk with
+carnage, determined to massacre everyone within. I luckily surprised
+them as they drew their sabres upon two poor old creatures and their
+young daughter. I threw myself between the victims and their butchers;
+the wretches turned upon me and I fell wounded by a bayonet thrust, but
+they were saved. The kind people who owed me their lives bore me to
+their house, and gave me every care. The young girl watched at my
+bedside for more than a fortnight. Briefly the beauty, the tenderness of
+the little girl, won my heart. Losing no time, I declared my passion.
+She whispered, blushing, that I might speak to her parents. As soon as I
+was well enough to walk, I hastened to the worthy old man, who, after
+the shock he had received, became mortally ill, and felt his end
+approach. I had no sooner asked him for his daughter's hand than he
+exclaimed, 'God be praised! I shall not now die without having
+recompensed our deliverer.' At the same time he took the young girl's
+hand and mine, and, after making us exchange rings, clasped them
+together. Then he stretched forth his trembling hands above our heads to
+bless us, whilst on our knees by the bedside we swore eternal fidelity
+to each other. Three days after the good man died, and the same day my
+regiment left for Castile. Seven months passed without my hearing any
+news from my betrothed, and it was only by chance I learned that on her
+mother's death she had quitted Navarre to take up her abode in her
+uncle's house at Panola.
+
+"But what is the matter?" said the lieutenant, as Stephano rose
+hurriedly.
+
+"I know enough," replied the young man in a hollow voice. "The village
+was Tafalla, and the young girl's name is Rosita."
+
+"But what is there in that?" cried the lieutenant, who understood
+nothing of Stephano's emotion. "You know Rosita? She is here? You are
+silent. Heavens! Is she dead--or married?"
+
+"No, no," replied Stephano, with an effort. "Rosita is here. No doubt
+she loves you and watches for your return with impatience."
+
+"Where, then, shall I find my betrothed?"
+
+Stephano was about to reply to this question when the tramp of horses
+was heard. It was the troop returning.
+
+"Softly!" whispered Dulaurier as he crept towards the window. "Yes,
+these are my friends. Where will you hide me?"
+
+Stephano regarded him with a savage gleam in his eyes and muttered to
+himself, "This man comes here to blast my happiness, and I must protect
+his life at the peril of my own."
+
+"What am I to do?" repeated Dulaurier.
+
+"Take this dagger," said Stephano, "put on your mantle and follow me."
+He unfastened a little door which opened upon a staircase which led into
+the garden, and descended, followed by Dulaurier. They stole along
+behind a thick hedge of hawthorn until they came to the trees of a
+little orchard, from which rose the roof of a ruined summer-house. On
+reaching this spot Stephano installed the lieutenant so that he could
+watch both the road and the garden; then having arranged upon the course
+they should take, Stephano hastened back to the house.
+
+[Illustration: "THEY STOLE ALONG."]
+
+Don Pedro was in the lower hall, alone, when his son entered.
+
+"I have a request to make to you," said the young man, clasping his
+father's hand convulsively. "I want you to let me start at once to join
+my brothers and to fight for Spain."
+
+"Can you then leave your cousin?" said Don Pedro, sadly. "And you do not
+know----"
+
+"I know more than you, father, more than Rosita herself about this
+affair," interrupted Stephano. "Is not Rosita betrothed to a French
+volunteer in Don Carlos's army, and is this not the secret she confided
+to you on harvest day?"
+
+"It is true. But how have you discovered it?"
+
+"From a man flying from the pursuit of guerillas; no other than the man
+himself, Lieutenant Charles Dulaurier!"
+
+"Is it possible?" exclaimed the stupefied old man.
+
+"You see, father, that it is absolutely necessary for me to go," cried
+Stephano. "I cannot wait until Rosita and Dulaurier are united. Their
+happiness would be more than I could bear, and I have thought of a plan
+by which the lieutenant can be saved without putting off my departure. I
+shall join the troop of guerillas who are seeking Dulaurier in the
+village. Seeing me become one of themselves their suspicions will be
+lulled, and I shall save my rival by departing with his enemies."
+
+"You are right," replied his father, after a painful pause, but he could
+not utter a word more.
+
+The young man proceeded to take down from the wall his pistols and his
+gun; he placed the former in his belt and the latter on his shoulder,
+took his hat and stepped forward to bid his father farewell. But as he
+threw himself into the arms of the weeping old man, the door opened and
+Rosita entered.
+
+The young girl glanced quickly from one to the other, and then her eyes
+remained fixed on Stephano.
+
+"What are you going to do?" she asked, examining his equipment.
+
+"I am going away," replied Stephano. "Farewell, Rosita, be happy.
+Farewell, father," he added, embracing Don Pedro.
+
+"He is going," said Rosita, her eyes dim with tears, "without one
+friendly smile, without one clasp of his hand. Oh! Stephano," she
+exclaimed, springing forward. "You cannot part from me thus!"
+
+"You are keeping me!" said the bewildered young man.
+
+"Yes," she replied, seizing his hand. "Stay, Stephano, do not go. I
+implore you!"
+
+"Remain!" cried the young man, passionately. "Remain to see you in the
+arms of another? Never!"
+
+As he moved towards the door, Rosita sprang towards him with
+outstretched arms. "And what if it is you whom I love, Stephano? What if
+I have never loved anyone but you?" A thunderbolt would hardly have
+produced more effect than did these words.
+
+"You love me?" he repeated, approaching his cousin. "Rosita, for mercy's
+sake, repeat those words once more, so that I may be sure of having
+heard aright."
+
+"Yes, I love you," repeated the young girl, tenderly; "no one but you!
+Will you stay now?"
+
+"For ever, if you wish it!" cried the enraptured youth, throwing down
+his gun and pistols. "Look at me, Rosita, that I may read in your eyes
+that word which gives me life, and which I have waited for so long. How
+blind and foolish I have been! But that will be all right now, will it
+not, my beloved?" As he spoke he embraced her passionately. By both of
+them the world was forgotten.
+
+Through the open window came the clink of spurs and rattling of sabres.
+This sound, to which Stephano and Rosita were deaf, struck on the ear of
+Don Pedro and paralyzed him with terror.
+
+"Stephano!" he cried at last. "Remember Lieutenant Dulaurier!"
+
+[Illustration: "REMEMBER LIEUTENANT DULAURIER!"]
+
+"Ah!" groaned Stephano, rudely torn from his ecstasy of happiness; and
+he fixed his gaze upon his cousin.
+
+The girl had not even heard Don Pedro.
+
+"Rosita," said her lover, "you say you love me, but you have a
+_fiancé!_"
+
+"Dulaurier!" cried the startled girl. "Great Heaven! pardon me, I had
+forgotten."
+
+"If this man," continued Stephano, "came here to claim your promise, you
+would reply, would you not, that friendship alone, not love, had drawn
+you towards him, and that your hand, promised when you hardly knew what
+you did, would now be given without your heart?"
+
+"Yes, that is what I should answer; but he is not likely to come here,
+Stephano."
+
+"And what if he were here already?" asked an impressive voice.
+
+Don Pedro at the same time stepped forward between the young people, and
+before the severe face of the Spaniard their eyes drooped.
+
+"Father!" faltered the young man.
+
+"Silence!" cried the old man. "Your duty is clear. What if Dulaurier
+were in the house, Rosita--what if, more faithful than you, he had come
+to claim his promise, made at the death-bed of your father? I ask you
+what you would answer."
+
+Trembling and submissive as a criminal before his judge, the young girl
+turned her eyes from Stephano to Don Pedro.
+
+"I should reply to Lieutenant Dulaurier that, before God and man, I am
+his betrothed bride, and that while he lives no other can be my
+husband."
+
+"Come then, my child, prepare to receive your _fiancé_," and Don Pedro
+held out his hand to his niece to lead her away.
+
+"You are destroying my happiness!" cried Stephano.
+
+"But in return I give you back your honour," replied Don Pedro. "Look
+after the lieutenant, for here come the guerillas!" and he went out.
+
+"What a dream, and what an awakening!" murmured Stephano as he was left
+alone. "Rosita vows she loves me, and at the same time declares she will
+never be mine while Dulaurier lives. _While he lives!_ And I must take
+upon myself the peril of saving him, when I have only to let him----Oh,
+how despair tempts us to horrible deeds! Is there time to fly, to quit
+this spot where each thought is torture: to hasten and join the
+guerillas before they enter the house? For, alas! if they enter now and
+demand where their enemy is--by Heaven! I shall not have the strength to
+resist--I must fly!"
+
+Picking up his gun and pistols he rushed towards the door, but recoiled
+at the sight of a man in the uniform of a captain of guerillas, who by a
+gesture forced him to pause.
+
+[Illustration: "IT IS TOO LATE!"]
+
+"Malediction--it is too late!" murmured the young man, as he dropped
+upon a chair, and let his unheeded weapons fall to the ground.
+
+"Two sentinels before each door and window," called out the captain to
+the soldiers who followed him. "This is the last house in which our
+prisoner could take refuge," he continued, striking impatiently the butt
+end of his rifle upon the ground. "Search well, comrades; you know he
+who takes the Frenchman prisoner is to have the honour of firing the
+first shot upon him, and is also to receive twenty douros for reward."
+Thereupon he advanced into the room. "Well, my good fellow," he said to
+Stephano; "what are you going to do with these weapons? Are they to
+defend yourself or to protect the officer whom you have hidden here?"
+
+"No one is hidden in this house," replied the young man, with the
+courage which peril bestows. "The La Sargas are known throughout the
+country to be devoted to Spain and the Queen. I have three brothers in
+the national army, and I have just picked up these weapons with the
+intention of joining your troops."
+
+The captain looked at him with a sneering smile. Then he turned to his
+companions, who had just returned from searching the house.
+
+"Well, have you found anything?"
+
+"Only a young girl and an old man," was the reply.
+
+"Bring the old man here," said the captain; then he turned to Stephano.
+"And you, sir, go with my lieutenant and these three men, and show them
+every room there is"; then he murmured in the lieutenant's ear,
+slipping at the same time a purse of gold into his hand: "Spare neither
+threats nor persuasion to gain this young man over to our side. Whatever
+it costs, I must recapture our prisoner."
+
+Stephano felt tempted to resist these orders, but he reflected that this
+would only draw suspicion upon him, and he led the way up the stairs,
+which were placed in a corner of the room.
+
+At the same time Don Pedro entered, guarded by two soldiers and leaning
+on his staff. Then an interval ensued, and the minutes flew past.
+Suddenly a pistol shot was heard. Everyone gave a start of alarm. Then
+one of the guards who had gone out with Stephano came rushing down the
+stairs and into the room.
+
+"The bird is snared, or will be in a few minutes," he cried. "Our
+prisoner," he continued, pointing through the window, "is in that
+building which you see at the bottom of the garden."
+
+"How do you know this?" asked the captain.
+
+"From the young man who is upstairs with the lieutenant."
+
+"From Stephano!" cried the old man, growing pale with horror.
+
+"Ah, ah!" laughed the captain, "your son does not seem very hard to
+persuade."
+
+"The lieutenant having discovered nothing," the man went on, "told three
+of us to go and search the granary, and took advantage of the occasion
+to take the young man aside. I watched them. A purse of gold and the
+barrel of a pistol have been the principal inducements. The sly fellow
+at first was very obstinate, and it was then that the lieutenant fired
+the pistol at him to frighten him. The young man seemed to be moved in a
+singular manner by the shot. He gave way with good grace, and pointed
+the pavilion out to us."
+
+Whilst the captain lent a joyful ear to this narrative, Don Pedro, on
+the contrary, listened with terror mingled with incredulity. At these
+last words he could contain himself no longer, and broke in violently:--
+
+"Enough, wretch; enough!" he cried. "What you say is impossible! It is
+an infamous calumny! My son is quite incapable of such villainy!"
+
+"Look, senor," replied the man, pointing to the stairs.
+
+Stephano in truth was descending with the lieutenant, holding the purse
+in his hand. His pale and agitated face seemed to proclaim his guilt,
+and Don Pedro sank back fainting on a seat. Stephano crossed the room
+with a faltering step without observing his father, and, reaching the
+window, gazed out upon the road.
+
+In recalling to mind his son's jealousy of Dulaurier, Don Pedro
+understood the facts of the matter--that he had sold his guest to get
+rid of a detested rival. Maddened by passion, he had without doubt lost
+all control over himself. After having exchanged some words in a low
+voice with his lieutenant, the captain made a sign to two of his men.
+
+"Remain with this fellow," he said, in a tone of contempt, pointing to
+Stephano, "until we reach the pavilion; if he makes one movement shoot
+him, and when a volley announces to you that we are not deceived, join
+us to start upon our route."
+
+"Very good, captain," answered the two soldiers, taking up their
+position on each side of Stephano, whilst the others went out softly.
+
+A mournful silence reigned in the chamber.
+
+Stephano stood erect before the window, with haggard eyes fixed upon the
+road; Don Pedro, mute and motionless in his chair, seemed like a man
+bereft of all at a single blow. Then, his misery overwhelming him, he
+covered his face with his hands and wept. Stephano turned round quickly,
+and for the first time saw his father.
+
+"Great Heavens! He was there, and heard all!" he murmured. "Father!" he
+cried imploringly.
+
+"Call me your father no more," cried the old man, with flaming eyes,
+"unless you can tell me that I am blind and deaf, or that I have dreamed
+that my son was a coward, a traitor, an assassin! Tell me so, Stephano,
+for pity's sake!"
+
+The young man made an effort as if he were about to speak, but paused at
+the sight of his two guards; the strain was so painful that he was
+forced to lean for support on one of the guerilla's arms. Then he turned
+away; Don Pedro rose from his seat and came towards his son.
+
+"His eye never quits this fatal window," he murmured to himself. "It
+looks as if he watched to see the success of his perfidy, that he wishes
+to assure himself that his rival does not escape. Wretch!" he burst
+forth, "if this is so, may you be----"
+
+Suddenly a hand was laid softly upon the old man's arm. It was Rosita.
+
+"Ah! it is you, Rosita!" said Don Pedro with a bewildered stare.
+"Wretched man that I am, what was I about to do?" he added, passing his
+hand over his forehead.
+
+Rosita came farther forward into the room.
+
+"Stephano guarded by two soldiers!" she cried. "Holy Virgin! what does
+this mean, and what has happened?"
+
+And she made an instinctive movement towards her cousin. Her uncle
+stopped her.
+
+"Keep away from this wretched man!" he cried, "for he is a coward and a
+traitor; he has betrayed your betrothed!"
+
+"Betrayed my betrothed!" cried the girl, with horror. "It is
+impossible!"
+
+"Not only has he betrayed him," continued the old man, taking his
+niece's hand, "but he is watching for the success of his treason. Do you
+recognise my son, Rosita?" he added, with heartrending despair, "or the
+man whom you loved?"
+
+Here the poor old man broke down completely, and sank back into his
+chair. The girl gazed at him with consternation. Even the rough soldiers
+were touched by the scene, and turned their heads aside.
+
+[Illustration: "THE POOR OLD MAN BROKE DOWN COMPLETELY."]
+
+At that instant a loud report shook the walls. It was the captain's
+volley. The two soldiers exchanged a meaning glance and disappeared. As
+soon as they went out Rosita threw herself in Don Pedro's arms.
+
+"Dulaurier is dead!" said the old man, gloomily.
+
+"He is saved!" cried Stephano, coming forward, and throwing from him as
+he did so the purse of gold. "Yes, father, yes, Rosita, the lieutenant
+is safe and sound, and will be with us in a few seconds."
+
+"How can that be?" cried Don Pedro, passing from despair to joy.
+
+"Before leaving Dulaurier in the pavilion we had arranged that he was to
+be informed by a pistol shot when he must leave his hiding-place for the
+granary whilst his enemies were searching the pavilion. You understand
+now how the guerilla's shot agitated me. For, of course, Dulaurier,
+taking the report for the signal agreed upon, would leave the pavilion
+for the granary, and would then fall into the hands of his pursuers. The
+only plan to save him was to get the soldiers away from the granary,
+which I did by feigning to betray Dulaurier, by accepting the purse, and
+pointing out the pavilion as his hiding-place. For a quarter of an hour
+I have endured the tortures of hell, but I have saved the man who
+confided in me, and I am still worthy of you both!"
+
+The young man had hardly finished his narrative when his father and
+Rosita were at his feet begging for forgiveness. Then Stephano hastened
+to the granary, and called the lieutenant's name, but there was no
+response, and soon Stephano's surprise was changed to uneasiness. He
+rushed into the granary. It was empty. Stephano reappeared, pale,
+tottering and breathless.
+
+"Dulaurier is not in the granary," he cried. "He cannot have taken the
+pistol shot for my signal. He must have remained, and that report we
+heard was his death-shot."
+
+He paused abruptly. Don Pedro and Rosita understood, and burst forth
+into an exclamation of horror.
+
+"Victory! Victory!" cried a hundred voices.
+
+Their despair and consternation were changed to the most lively
+astonishment, when a detachment of Don Carlos's volunteers entered the
+house, led by Dulaurier himself.
+
+"Dulaurier!" exclaimed Stephano, Don Pedro, and Rosita at the same time.
+
+"Our enemies!" said the old Castilian, whilst his niece shrank behind
+him.
+
+"Say rather friends," replied Dulaurier, pressing Stephano's hand
+warmly.
+
+"But how has all this happened?" began the bewildered Stephano.
+
+"One minute's attention. For half an hour I waited patiently after your
+departure in the little pavilion, when I heard the signal we arranged on
+of the pistol shot. I quitted my hiding-place at once, and was preparing
+to creep towards the granary, when, casting a glance upon the road, I
+recognised the uniforms of the volunteers of my regiment. Briefly,"
+continued Dulaurier, showing the soldiers who surrounded him, "here are
+the gentlemen, whom I have the honour of presenting to you. Like good
+comrades, they determined to avenge me, and we caught the guerillas in
+an ambush as they were searching the pavilion. Bang! a general
+discharge, and thirty men were lying on the ground, and the rest running
+away for their lives."
+
+"The volley of which we believed you the victim!" interrupted Stephano.
+
+"You understand the rest. Not wishing to quit Panola without thanking
+you, and also wishing to see about that little matter which I mentioned
+to you this morning, we came on here. And now," he added to Stephano,
+with the air of a man who has no time to lose, "I must thank you most
+warmly for all you have done for me."
+
+There was such a tone of kindness in these words that Stephano could do
+nothing but grasp his hand cordially in return.
+
+"Anyone else?" cried the effusive officer, looking quickly round. "You
+have a father, a mother, a wife, perhaps? Where are they? This noble old
+man must be your father," and upon Stephano's making an affirmative sign
+he grasped the old man's hand, and wrung it with force.
+
+"Are there no ladies in your family?" asked Dulaurier with a gallant
+air.
+
+It was then that in spite of Rosita's efforts to avoid his attention he
+caught sight of her as she hid behind Don Pedro's high-backed chair.
+
+"Ah! here is one!" he said, without recognising his betrothed. He
+stepped forward towards her.
+
+"Most amiable senora," he began politely, "permit me----" He paused,
+gazing with stupefied eyes upon the young girl, and then made a sign to
+his soldiers to leave them.
+
+"Good Heavens!" he exclaimed, "if I am not deceived it is Rosita, my
+pretty _fiancée_!"
+
+"You are right; it is I, Monsieur Dulaurier," faltered the young girl.
+
+The light of happiness vanished from all the faces in the room except
+the lieutenant's.
+
+"You can easily understand, my pretty one, what has led me to Panola,"
+said Dulaurier.
+
+"I presume you have come to remind Rosita," answered Don Pedro, "of the
+promise that she gave you at her dying father's bedside. She has not
+forgotten it, senor. She recognises her duty, and you have only one word
+to say----"
+
+"Will you answer me yourself, Rosita?" interrupted Dulaurier, marking
+her extreme pallor and agitation. "You know what I have the right of
+claiming; are you still able to give it me freely?"
+
+"Without doubt," she murmured; "if I give you my hand, my heart will go
+with it."
+
+"Words, nothing but words!" thought the lieutenant, who grew pale in his
+turn. "All women are weathercocks. It is clear I am superseded," and he
+bit his lip until it bled. "But I should like to know who is my
+substitute," and he turned mechanically to Stephano. He found him as
+mute and as troubled as Rosita. The truth flashed across him. "I cannot
+blame the brave young man," he murmured to himself, "for falling in love
+with his cousin. It has not prevented him from saving my life at the
+expense of his love and honour, and as I have no wish for a heart not
+wholly mine, I have now to render sacrifice for sacrifice, and to keep
+the reputation of France equal to that of Spain." He turned to Rosita
+with a smile.
+
+"Mademoiselle," he began, "when we plighted our troth, and I told you
+that I loved you devotedly, I was as sincere as I am to-day, only I took
+upon myself too much, and have contracted several other engagements,
+more or less similar to yours." He gave a forced laugh as he pronounced
+these words.
+
+"That is enough, senor," said Don Pedro. "But why have you then come to
+Panola to claim her promise?"
+
+"Who said that I was here for that purpose?" asked Dulaurier, abruptly.
+Stephano, indeed, recollected that the Frenchman had not said a single
+word which implied that he came to claim Rosita's hand. "I implore
+Mademoiselle Rosita to pardon me," pursued Dulaurier, "and I propose
+that we exchange rings again."
+
+[Illustration: "I PROPOSE THAT WE EXCHANGE RINGS AGAIN."]
+
+It was no sooner said than done. Dulaurier turned and clasped Stephano's
+hand again, and now the young man saw with apprehension that Dulaurier's
+eyes were dim with tears. Dulaurier could keep up the farce no longer,
+and his heart was breaking behind the smile upon his lips.
+
+"Dulaurier!" said the young man, "you weep: you are unhappy! What you
+have said has been only a sublime falsehood! You love Rosita--you wish
+to marry her--and if you have the generosity to renounce all for me, it
+must not be at the expense of your happiness."
+
+"Hush!" said Dulaurier, as he took him aside. "Do not undo my work. But
+since you have found it out, you are right. I did come back to claim
+Rosita. I have always loved her, and have loved none but her. But do not
+breathe a word of this. Let no thought of my unhappiness cast a shadow
+on her life. Sacrifice for sacrifice, young man. France is equal to
+Spain, and we are quits.
+
+"Farewell, brave Castilians," he cried aloud, "celebrate the marriage
+merrily: and let us hope that we shall never meet upon the battlefield
+of this unhappy country."
+
+"Farewell!" replied Stephano, huskily.
+
+Dulaurier pressed Don Pedro's and Stephano's hands, kissed that of
+Rosita, and joined his comrades outside.
+
+"Wheel to the right--forward!" he shouted, at the head of his battalion.
+
+Then came the roll of the drum, and they all marched past the window.
+
+"Rosita," said Stephano to his cousin, "you are free, and we are going
+to be happy; but never let us forget Lieutenant Dulaurier!"
+
+
+
+
+_The Queer Side of Things._
+
+
+The N. P. M. C
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Let us return for a space to the two spirits William and James, whose
+conversations we described in past numbers. Some readers may possibly
+recall how the spirit James, while wandering through the darkness of
+unoccupied Space (about five-and-twenty billions of eons before the
+commencement of Eternity), conceived a wild idea of the possibility of
+the existence of worlds--worlds occupied by an impracticability called
+"man." It will be recollected how the wiser spirit William cast
+well-merited ridicule upon this insanely impossible phantasy of a
+disordered mind; nay, even condescended to crush, by perspicuous and
+irrefutable logic, the grotesque and preposterous idea.
+
+Very well; it is now William's turn.
+
+"James," he said one day as they chanced to sight each other in the
+awful solitude of Space, "I have been thinking over that world of yours,
+and your crowning absurdity, 'man.' Pray do not become too inflated with
+weak conceit at my condescending to think about such trivialities; for
+the fact is, any subject of thought--however hopelessly foolish--is a
+relief amid the tediousness of Space. Well, I have been reflecting upon
+that characteristic which you conceive as distinguishing your puppet
+'man'--I allude to _intelligence_. I think you suggested that he would
+possess intelligence?"
+
+James only fidgeted uneasily, and made a feeble sign of affirmation.
+
+"Very well," continued William. "Now, I have been putting two and two
+together, and have found out the nature of that quality which you
+mistake for intelligence; its true name is 'low cunning.' Every fresh
+piece of absurdity which you have told me touching the tricks of your
+queer creatures has supplied new evidence of this. Your creatures were
+to feed upon the substance of the 'world' on which they lived, and, ever
+increasing in numbers, would logically in course of time find there was
+not a mouthful apiece. I think we agreed about that? Well, let us
+consider that period, some time before the creatures should actually
+become exterminated by the natural evolution of events--the time when
+all the eatable products of their world would be growing scarce. You
+went so far as to imagine a great many products----"
+
+"Yes!" said James, gazing afar off in the absorption of his imagination.
+"Yes--there were eggs, and oysters, and poultry, and mushrooms, and----"
+
+"Ah!--the very things I've been reflecting about. Well, I've been
+dreaming that, at the period of which I speak, when all the commodities
+were becoming scarce, your human beings would agree to make poisonous
+artificial articles of consumption with which to poison themselves by
+degrees, and thus reduce the population to convenient limits."
+
+"No!" cried James, pondering deeply. "Their idea would be to poison not
+_themselves_, but _each other_!"
+
+[Illustration: "POISON."]
+
+"Ah! I see. Then they would make some sort of effort to prevent
+themselves being poisoned?"
+
+"Oh, yes; they would pass Adulteration Acts for the purpose."
+
+"I see; and any creature who did not wish to be poisoned could take
+advantage of these Acts to protect himself?"
+
+"Certainly. The Acts would be very stringent. Let us suppose, for
+example, that a certain man suspected that the butter supplied to him
+was not butter at all, but a deleterious compound--well, all he would
+have to do would be to go to the shop, accompanied by a guardian of the
+peace, and, standing on one leg, with both hands on the counter and one
+eye shut, order a pound of the butter in certain words prescribed by the
+Act. He would then say to the tradesman, 'I am about to divide this
+pound of butter into three equal portions for the purposes of analysis';
+and, taking the butter-man's knife in his left hand, and passing it to
+his right, would cut the butter into three portions exactly equal.
+
+"After this, hermetically sealing the three portions in three jars
+provided for the purpose, he would hand one jar to the tradesman, the
+second to the guardian of the peace, and retain the third. Then he would
+bring an action; and (provided that all the conditions had been
+accurately fulfilled, without the slightest flaw) the erring tradesman
+would be told by the Court not to do it again; while the complainant
+would have to pay all costs, and possibly a fine; and would be sneered
+at by the magistrate as a fussy idiot and a common informer.
+
+"If, on the other hand, the complainant should omit to secure the
+company of a custodian of the peace, or fail to stand on one leg with
+both hands on the counter, or take the knife in his right hand first, or
+should leave out the prescribed words, or blink his eye, or stammer, or
+sneeze, or in any other way fail to observe the regulations of the Act;
+he would, of course, have no case or remedy. The Adulteration Acts would
+be extremely stringent----"
+
+"Against the victim of adulteration?"
+
+"Ye--es," murmured James, a little nonplussed.
+
+[Illustration: "THE SHOP."]
+
+"Ah--well, then, I think we can afford to ignore these Adulteration
+Acts--like the adulterators and the public authorities would--and
+proceed with the question of the adulteration. I had a most vivid vision
+or dream of the details of this adulteration as they would be carried
+out on your world at the period we are now considering. I imagined that
+I was actually in a part of your world called 'America,' and that one of
+your human beings politely invited me to walk through his factory and
+see how things were made. I think you mentioned 'oysters'----"
+
+[Illustration: "NO CASE."]
+
+"Yes," said James, "that's one name the article of food would possess;
+newspaper writers, however, would not recognise them by that name--they
+would only know them as 'the succulent bivalve.'"
+
+"The very idea!" exclaimed William. "That's exactly what I seemed to
+have become--a newspaper writer. I fancied I went to see the factory,
+and then sent in the following account:--
+
+"One of the most interesting factories in America is the stately
+building of the Ephraim Q. Knickerbocker Natural Products Manufacturing
+Corporation, of Spread Eagle Springs, N.J. That the structure is itself
+an imposing one may well be imagined in view of the vast productive
+energy expended within its walls; and the feebleness and inefficiency of
+the productive operations of Nature are never so fully realized as after
+a visit to this marvellous factory, and a comparison of the two systems.
+
+"It was, therefore, with no little satisfaction that we lately received
+a courteous invitation from the able and energetic managing director
+General Sardanapalus J. Van Biene to inspect the operations of the
+Corporation at its factory. Accordingly, we proceeded to the New York
+terminus of the Natural Products Manufacturing Corporation's New York,
+Sumner Ferry, Thanksgiving Flats, and Spread Eagle Springs Railroad,
+along which a special train speedily whirled us to the front door of the
+works. On the steps stood the genial managing director, supported by the
+principal manager Colonel Exodus V. Rooster, the head chemist Major
+Madison B. Jefferson, and the assistant chemists Judge Vansittart J.
+Sumner and Admiral Hudson W. Killigrew.
+
+"They received us with open arms, and, after entertaining us at a
+_recherché_ lunch, conducted us to the chemistry and analysis section
+occupying a little over seventeen acres and employing a permanent staff
+of thirteen thousand four hundred and thirty-two, assistants, among whom
+are chemists, microscopists, sub-inventors, etc., etc. There it is that
+the productive operations of Nature are studied and improved upon.
+
+"'You must not imagine that we have any kind of sympathy or admiration
+for Nature's system,' explained General S. J. Van Biene, hastening to
+sweep away any false impression which we might have formed.
+
+[Illustration: "THEY RECEIVED US WITH OPEN ARMS."]
+
+"'On the contrary, we just entirely despise her and her ways, and should
+have discarded her way back but for the prejudices of the consuming
+public. It's just like this--the consumers still believe in natural
+products, and so we have to go on reproducing them instead of starting
+right away on our own lines and bringing out new and original
+commodities far in advance of anything Nature can do. How we're
+stultified you'll see as we work through. We just have to copy, anyway,
+in place of originating. We make oysters, for example. Now quite a while
+ago, our head chemist Major Madison B. Jefferson invented a new edible
+way, finer in every essential than the oyster; but the consumers
+wouldn't have it: they shied at it, and declared it wasn't wholesome;
+and we had the whole stock on our hands, and had to vat it down again,
+and recolour it, and make tomatoes of it. Then they took it down and
+just chaired it round. Of course, we have to say we _grow_ the
+products--that's another effect of popular prejudice; if we had said we
+made those tomatoes, the public would have started right off again, and
+talked of "adulteration," although our tomatoes whip Nature's by 50 per
+cent, in all the elements of nutrition and flavour. Just taste this
+one.'
+
+"We hesitated, and the director, perceiving it, promptly consumed
+another from the same case. Thus reassured, we ventured to nibble at the
+artificial vegetable, and found it excellent in every respect--decidedly
+superior to the natural product, as he had stated.
+
+"'But,' we asked, 'do you not suffer considerable losses when these
+products--necessarily perishable in the natural course of things--begin
+to decay?'
+
+[Illustration: "JUST TASTE THIS ONE."]
+
+"'That's just another point where we show our superiority to Nature.
+_Our_ products _don't_ decay; on the contrary, they improve by keeping.
+Here is a tomato seven years old,' he continued, taking down another
+case. 'Try it.'
+
+"We did. The other was not to be compared with it. The older tomato had
+matured and mellowed, the skin having a finer colour and lovelier gloss,
+the flesh possessing a firmer body and more delicate flavour; it was far
+in advance of any tomato we had ever conceived.
+
+"'Wonderful!' we exclaimed.
+
+"'A very simple matter,' said the director. 'All that is required is a
+thorough mastery of chemistry. In all our goods we employ a special
+patent preservative of our own, which is naturally a secret. We
+calculate it to be worth one hundred and fifty quadrillions of dollars.
+
+"'But let us show you how we make oysters! See, these are the tanks
+which contain the mixture--the compound which forms the body of the
+bivalve. This tank contains the beard-mixture; and this one the
+gristle.'
+
+"'And what are the principal ingredients?'
+
+"'Glue, made from horses' heels. This is a very important factor in our
+products. This glue, after undergoing a peculiar treatment which
+prevents its hardening and losing its elasticity in the course of years,
+is flavoured and coloured in various ways. This great tank contains the
+composition for the internal parts of the oyster--nearly black, you
+perceive; that tank over there contains the compound for the flesh that
+covers the internal parts; that tank farther along holds the beard
+mixture; and the one beyond that the gristle which attaches the oyster
+to the shell. First, the flesh of the oyster is run into moulds, each
+oyster being in two parts; then the inside of the animal is run into
+another mould, and the two halves of the body are automatically placed
+around it and cemented together.
+
+"'Meanwhile the beards have been rolled, stamped, frilled, and coloured
+along the edge by special automatic machinery. The body of the oyster
+then passes to the fixing-up room, where the beard is cemented to it by
+hand, and finishing touches of colour added; and then it passes along
+and has the gristle attached: and the oyster itself is complete.'
+
+[Illustration: The Oyster Factory Affixing the Beards.]
+
+"'But it wants a shell!'
+
+"'Just so. As far as the supply will go, we buy up old shells from
+dustyards and use them; but most of them are damaged by previous
+opening, so we make the bulk of our shells, and they're a good deal more
+natural than the real ones. They're made of lime.'
+
+"'All alike?'
+
+"'Not in the least. You see, we have some thousands of moulds, every one
+differing slightly from the rest. There's a special department for
+hingeing the two shells together. We had some trouble to find a
+substance for the hinge; but at last one of our chemists hit on a way of
+subjecting old hide-scraps to a peculiar process, and that did the
+thing. The mother-of-pearl is made of a sort of soft glass, somewhat
+after the appearance of Venetian glass, and put on the shell hot.
+Lastly, the oyster is attached to the shells by its cartilage; a little
+liquor is put in, and the shells are closed up.'
+
+"'But surely people must observe that they are not alive?' we said. 'For
+instance, they can't open their shells!'
+
+"'That's just where you're astray,' replied the General. 'Owing to the
+mechanical action of salt upon the composition of the cartilage, the
+oyster opens when placed in salt water. Iron, however, exercises an
+electro-magnetic influence upon the composition forming the body of the
+bivalve, causing a sudden contraction--so that, on a knife being
+introduced into the shell, the latter closes in the most natural way. We
+manufacture pearls on the premises, and advertise that one oyster in
+every gross taken from our beds contains a pearl of more or less value;
+and there's a greater demand for our oysters than for any others in the
+world. Our oyster beds are way down along the coast, about ten miles
+off; and are inspected by thousands yearly. Taste this egg.'
+
+[Illustration: The Pearl.]
+
+"He took up a fine specimen of a new-laid egg, and proceeded to break it
+into a glass. It was a delightful egg. 'That's our latest pattern of
+egg,' explained the General, 'You perceive that it has three lines
+around it, where the substance of the shell is weaker than elsewhere;
+the lines near each end enable a person about to consume the egg in a
+boiled state to easily cut off the top or bottom with a knife, or run
+his nail around it; while the line about the middle greatly assists
+cooks in breaking it into a basin. There is also a thin spot at either
+end, to facilitate sucking. These eggs are always new-laid; we send tons
+to Europe, particularly to Great Britain, where ours are the only fresh
+eggs they ever get.'
+
+[Illustration: The London Egg]
+
+"'But you must find some difficulty in making an egg?'
+
+"'Just as easy as smiling. The white is simply jelly-fish subjected to a
+chemical process--jelly-fish aren't costly. This tank is full of the
+liquor. The main ingredient of the yolk is the horse-heel glue mentioned
+before; we also boil down vast quantities of rats--they come cheap, too;
+it's only the cost of catching them; and then there's a vegetable
+colouring, and the preservative, and a few other trifles. First, the two
+halves of the white are made in two moulds, and frozen; then the two
+frozen halves are frozen together, and the yolk-mixture poured in
+through a small hole, which is then closed. Then comes the skin; and
+that is the most expensive part, for it contains a certain quantity of
+rubber. We have tried in vain to find a substitute for rubber, but
+failed hitherto. The rubber is mixed with a gum from a South American
+tree, and the mixture is applied with a brush over the frozen egg; and
+then the egg, still frozen, is dipped in a lime composition very nearly
+identical with the oyster-shell mixture; and, lastly, the whole thing is
+passed through the finishing machine, which turns the three thin lines
+and the two thin spots, imitates the pores of the shell, and delivers
+the finished egg to the warehouse.'
+
+"'Marvellous!' we involuntarily exclaimed.
+
+"'Oh, that's nothing at all,' said the director. 'We're meditating
+turning out eggs that will hatch and become fowls. At present we have to
+manufacture fowls; but we calculate to make a great saving by producing
+them from the eggs we make. That building over yonder is the terrapin
+factory; we turn out eleven tons of terrapin weekly. We make clams, of
+course--in the oyster department. In this next house we make kidneys and
+sweetbreads. Fruit? Oh, yes, we turn out masses of fruit; peaches pay
+best, but we do very well with nuts.'
+
+"We were then conducted to the show-room, where we tasted a number of
+other products of the wonderful factory; and we had just said a grateful
+farewell to our courteous guide, when we were seized with pains of the
+most acute description.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: The Pain.]
+
+"The arrangements of the hospital were admirable. The kindliness and
+attention we received made our five years' sojourn there a time to look
+back upon with feelings of gratitude. We are assured that, with strict
+diet and unremitting care, we may last some time yet--possibly even
+three months."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"It was a marvellous vision," said James, fervently, as the voice of
+William ceased. "Surely after that you must think better of those beings
+of mine?"
+
+But William merely sniffed.
+
+                              J. F. SULLIVAN.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A TURNIP RESEMBLING A HUMAN HAND.]
+
+The above photographs represent two views of an extraordinary turnip
+grown by Alderman David Evans, Llangennech Park, Carmarthenshire. We are
+indebted for the photographs to Mr. Morgan W. James, of Llanelly.
+
+
+[Illustration: A ROOM PAPERED WITH STAMPS.]
+
+The above photograph represents the study of Mr. C. Whitfield King, of
+Morpeth House, Ipswich, which he has papered with 44,068 _unused_
+foreign postage stamps, bearing the value of £699 16s. 9d., and
+containing 48 varieties of different sizes and colours, presenting an
+example of mosaic work which is altogether unique of its kind.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: Drinking]
+
+[Illustration: VESSELS OF ALL]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A CROCODILE STORY.]
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue
+27, March 1893, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STRAND MAGAZINE, MARCH 1893 ***
+
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+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Strand, Volume 5, Issue 27, march, 1893.
+    </title>
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+
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue 27,
+March 1893, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue 27, March 1893
+       An Illustrated Monthly
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: George Newnes
+
+Release Date: October 9, 2009 [EBook #30222]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STRAND MAGAZINE, MARCH 1893 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Victorian/Edwardian Pictorial Magazines,
+Jonathan Ingram, Josephine Paolucci and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span></p>
+<h2>THE</h2>
+
+<h1>STRAND MAGAZINE</h1>
+
+<h2><i>An Illustrated Monthly</i></h2>
+
+<h3>Vol. 5, Issue. 27.</h3>
+
+<h4>March 1893</h4>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2>Contents</h2>
+
+<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. -->
+<p>
+<a href="#A_GAME_of_CHESS"><b>A Game Of Chess.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#Illustrated_Interviews"><b>Illustrated Interviews: XXI.--Mr. and Mrs. Kendal.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#Author_Author"><b>"Author! Author!"</b></a><br />
+<a href="#Zig_Zags_at_the_Zoo_Conkavian"><b>Zig Zags at the Zoo: Conkavian.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#Shafts_from_an_Eastern_Quiver"><b>Shafts from an Eastern Quiver IX.--Maw-Sayah: The Keeper of the Great Burman.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#From_Behind_the_Speakers_Chair"><b>From Behind the Speaker's Chair III.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#Portraits_of_Celebrities_at_Different_Times_of_their_Lives"><b>Portraits of Celebrities at Different Times of their Lives.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#The_Adventures_of_Sherlock_Holmes"><b>The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes XVI.--The Adventure of the Stockbroker's Clerk.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#Beauties"><b>Beauties.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#Hands"><b>Hands II.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#Illustration_ROSITA"><b>Rosita.</b></a><br />
+<a href="#The_Queer_Side_of_Things"><b>The Queer Side of Things.</b></a><br />
+</p>
+<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. -->
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 320px;">
+<img src="images/image219.jpg" width="320" height="500" alt="&quot;By Heaven,&quot; cried Ruy Lopez, &quot;the Duke shall finish his
+Game!&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;By Heaven,&quot; cried Ruy Lopez, &quot;the Duke shall finish his
+Game!&quot;<br />
+
+(<i>A Game of Chess.</i>)</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;">
+<img src="images/image220.jpg" width="650" height="452" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+<p><a name="A_GAME_of_CHESS" id="A_GAME_of_CHESS"></a></p>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">From the French.</span></h3>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+<p>King Phillip II. was playing at chess in the Escurial Palace. His
+opponent was Ruy Lopez, a humble priest, but a chess player of great
+skill. Being the King's particular favourite, the great player was
+permitted to kneel upon a brocaded cushion, whilst the courtiers grouped
+about the King were forced to remain standing in constrained and painful
+attitudes.</p>
+
+<p>It was a magnificent morning. The air was perfumed with the orange
+groves, and the violet curtains of the splendid hall hardly softened the
+burning rays which streamed in through the windows. The blaze of living
+light seemed scarcely in harmony with the King's gloomy countenance. His
+brow was black as night, and from time to time he bent his eyes
+impatiently upon the door. The nobles stood in silence, darting meaning
+glances at each other. It was easily to be discerned that some event of
+great importance weighed upon the spirits of the assembly. No one paid
+any attention to the chess-board except Ruy Lopez, who, as he moved the
+pieces, hesitated between the temptation of checkmating his opponent and
+the deference due to his King. The silence was unbroken except by the
+sound made by the players moving their pieces.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the door opened, and a man of rude and savage aspect advanced
+into the hall, and, presenting himself before the King, stood waiting
+his commands to speak. This man's appearance was anything but
+prepossessing, and on his entrance the nobles, as if animated with one
+thought, shrank back with contempt and loathing, as if some unclean
+animal had entered into their midst. His massive, herculean figure was
+clad in a doublet of black leather, and his face, in which could be seen
+no trace of intelligence, expressed, on the contrary, nothing but
+vileness and villainy; a great scar, running right across his face and
+losing itself in a bushy beard, added still further to the natural
+brutality of his countenance.</p>
+
+<p>An electric thrill ran through the assembly. The new comer was Fernando
+Calavar, high executioner of Spain.</p>
+
+<p>"Is he dead?" asked the King, in an imperious tone.</p>
+
+<p>"No, sire," replied Calavar, bowing low.</p>
+
+<p>The King frowned.</p>
+
+<p>"Great Sovereign of Spain," Calavar continued, "the prisoner has claimed
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span>his privileges, and I cannot take proceedings against a man whose blood
+belongs to the noblest in Spain, without having a more imperative order
+from your Majesty," and he bowed again.</p>
+
+<p>The nobles, who had listened with great attention to these words, broke
+into a murmur of approbation as the man finished speaking. The proud
+Castilian blood rushed like a stream of lava through their veins, and
+dyed their faces crimson. The manifestation became general. Young Alonza
+D'Ossuna openly asserted his opinion by putting on his plumed cap. His
+bold example was followed by the majority of the nobles, and their lofty
+nodding crests seemed to proclaim with defiance that their masters
+protested in favour of the privilege, which the hidalgos of Spain have
+always enjoyed, of covering their heads before their Sovereign.</p>
+
+<p>The King gave a furious start, and striking his fist violently upon the
+chess-board, scattered the chessmen in all directions.</p>
+
+<p>"He has been judged by our Royal Court of Justice," he cried, "and
+condemned to death. What does the traitor demand?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sire!" replied the executioner, "he asks permission to die upon the
+block, and also to pass the three last hours of his life with a priest."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, that is granted!" replied Philip, in a tone of relief. "Is not our
+confessor in the prison according to our orders?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sire!" said Calavar, "the holy man is there; but the Duke refuses
+to see St. Diaz de Silva. He says he cannot receive absolution from
+anyone below the dignity of a Bishop. Such is the privilege of a noble
+condemned to death for high treason."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, these are our rights!" boldly interrupted the fiery D'Ossuna; "and
+we claim from the King our cousin's privileges."</p>
+
+<p>This demand acted as a signal.</p>
+
+<p>"Our rights and the King's justice are inseparable," cried Don Diego de
+Tarraxas, Count of Valence, an old man of gigantic stature, clothed in
+armour, holding in his hands the b&acirc;ton of Great Constable of Spain, and
+leaning upon his long Toledo blade.</p>
+
+<p>"Our rights and our privileges!" cried the nobles, repeating the words
+like an echo. Their audacity made the King start with fury from his
+ebony throne.</p>
+
+<p>"By the bones of Campeador!" he cried. "By the soul of St. Jago! I have
+sworn neither to eat nor sleep until the bleeding head of Don Gusman
+lies before me. As I have sworn, so shall it be. But Don Tarraxas has
+said well, 'The King's justice confirms his subjects' rights.' My Lord
+Constable, where does the nearest Bishop reside?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sire, I have more to do with camp than with the Church," the Constable
+replied, somewhat abruptly. "Your Majesty's chaplain, Don Silvas, is
+present: he can tell you better than I."</p>
+
+<p>Don Silvas began to speak in trepidation.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image221.jpg" width="450" height="345" alt="&quot;WHAT DOES THE TRAITOR DEMAND?&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;WHAT DOES THE TRAITOR DEMAND?&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Sire," he said, humbly, "the Bishop of Segovia is an official of the
+King, but he who filled the duty died last week, and the parchment which
+names his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> successor is still upon the Council table, and is yet to be
+submitted to the Pope's seal."</p>
+
+<p>At these words a joyous smile hovered about D'Ossuna's lips. This joy
+was but natural, for the young man was of the blood of the Gusmans, and
+his cousin, the condemned prisoner, was his dearest friend. The King
+perceived the smile, and his eye shot forth lightning.</p>
+
+<p>"We are the King!" he said, gravely, with the calm which presages a
+storm; "our Royal person must be no butt for raillery. This sceptre
+appears light, my lords, but he who ridicules it shall be crushed
+thereby as with a block of iron. I believe that our holy father the Pope
+is somewhat indebted to us, so that we do not fear his displeasure at
+the step which we are about to take. Since the King of Spain can make a
+Prince, he can also make a Bishop. Rise, then, Don Ruy Lopez. I create
+you Bishop of Segovia. Rise, I command you, and take your rank in the
+Church."</p>
+
+<p>The courtiers stood dumfounded.</p>
+
+<p>Don Ruy Lopez rose mechanically. His head was whirling, and he stammered
+as he strove to speak.</p>
+
+<p>"If your Majesty pleases&mdash;&mdash;" he began.</p>
+
+<p>"Silence, my Lord Bishop!" replied the King. "Obey your Sovereign. The
+formalities of your installation shall be performed another day; our
+subjects will not fail to acknowledge our wishes in this affair. Bishop
+of Segovia, go with Calavar to the condemned man's cell. Give absolution
+to his soul, and in three hours leave his body to the executioner's axe.
+As for you, Calavar, I will await you here; you will bring us the
+traitor's head. Let justice be accomplished."</p>
+
+<p>Then Philip turned to Ruy Lopez.</p>
+
+<p>"I give you my signet ring," he said, "to show the Duke as a token of
+the truth of your story."</p>
+
+<p>The executioner left the chamber, followed by Ruy Lopez.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, gentlemen," said the King, turning to the others, "do you still
+doubt the King's justice?"</p>
+
+<p>But the nobles answered not a word.</p>
+
+<p>The King, having taken his seat, made a sign to one of his favourites to
+place himself before the chess-board, and Don Ramirez, Count of Biscay,
+accordingly knelt down upon the velvet cushion.</p>
+
+<p>"With a game of chess, gentlemen," said the King, smiling, "and your
+company, I cannot fail to make the time pass agreeably. Let no one leave
+the chamber until Calavar's return. We cannot spare a single one of
+you."</p>
+
+<p>With these ironical words, Philip commenced a game with Don Ramirez,
+whilst the nobles, almost dropping with fatigue, resumed the positions
+about their august master which they had occupied at the beginning of
+this story.</p>
+
+
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+<p>Calavar, leading the way, conducted the new Bishop to the condemned
+man's cell. Ruy Lopez walked like one in a dream. Was he awake, or not?
+He hardly knew. At the bottom of his heart he cursed the King and his
+Court. He understood perfectly that he had become Bishop of Segovia, but
+he felt deeply at what a price he had bought his dignity. What had Don
+Gusman done that he should be thus sacrificed? Don Gusman, the best
+chess player in Spain! He thought of all this as he proceeded over the
+marble flags which led to the State prison, and as he thought he prayed
+that the ground would open and swallow him up.</p>
+
+<p>Don Gusman was pacing impatiently up and down his narrow cell with a
+hurried step that betrayed the feverish anxiety of his mind. The cell
+was furnished with a massive table and two heavy wooden stools, the
+floor being covered with coarse, thick mats. Shut out from all the
+noises of the outer world, here silence reigned supreme. A crucifix,
+roughly carved, was fixed to the wall in the niche of a high window,
+which was carefully barred with iron. Except for this image of
+resignation and mercy, the walls were bare. Well might this dungeon
+serve as antechamber to the tomb.</p>
+
+<p>As Ruy Lopez entered the cell a sudden burst of sunshine flooded the
+walls as if in bitter mockery of him who was soon to see it no more.</p>
+
+<p>The Duke saluted the new Bishop with great courtesy. They regarded each
+other, and exchanged in that look a thousand words which they alone
+could understand. Ruy Lopez felt the painfulness of his position deeply,
+and the Duke understood his embarrassment. Their thoughts were both the
+same, that in the condemnation of one of the principal favourites of the
+King an innocent life was threatened! The proofs of the crime imputed to
+the Duke were grave; the most important being a despatch written in Don
+Gusman's hand to the French Court, in which he unfolded a scheme for
+assassinating Philip II. This had sufficed to condemn him.</p>
+
+<p>Don Gusman, strong in his innocence, had kept a rigorous silence when
+brought before<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> his judges, and the accusation not being denied,
+sentence of death was passed upon him. Don Gusman since his
+incarceration had not altered. He had braved the storm, and looked upon
+death with an unmoved countenance. His last hours had no terrors for
+him. If his forehead was overshadowed, if his steps were agitated and
+his breathing hurried, it was because there rose before his eye the
+image of his betrothed, Dona Estella, who, ignorant of her lover's fate,
+was waiting for him in her battlemented castle on the banks of the
+Guadalquiver. If he felt weak at this fatal moment, and if a pang shot
+through his heart, it was because his thoughts were of her who was to
+him the dearest thing in all the world.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 359px;">
+<img src="images/image223.jpg" width="359" height="450" alt="&quot;RUY LOPEZ ENTERED THE CELL.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;RUY LOPEZ ENTERED THE CELL.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Ruy Lopez had not entered alone. Calavar was at his side; and it was he
+who announced to the Duke the King's decision and reply. Ruy Lopez
+confirmed the executioner's words, and the Duke, falling on his knees
+before the new Bishop, asked his blessing, then turning to Calavar with
+a gesture of authority, he dismissed him, saying:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"In three hours I shall be at your disposal."</p>
+
+<p>Calavar obeyed him and went out, and the Duke and Bishop were left
+alone.</p>
+
+<p>Ruy Lopez was trembling with nervousness, whilst Don Gusman's face wore
+a calm and serene expression. He took the Bishop's hand, and wrung it
+warmly. There was a pause. The Duke was the first to break the silence.</p>
+
+<p>"We have met before in happier circumstances," he said, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>"It is true," stammered Ruy Lopez, who, pale and agitated, resembled
+rather the penitent than the confessor.</p>
+
+<p>"Much happier," repeated the Duke, absently. "Do you remember, when you
+played your celebrated game of chess with Paoli Boy, the Sicilian, in
+the presence of the King and Court, that it was upon my right arm that
+the King leant?" Then after a pause he continued: "Do you remember also,
+father, those words of Cervantes, 'Life is a game of chess?' I have
+forgotten the exact place in which the passage occurs, but its meaning
+is, that upon earth men play different r&ocirc;les. There are, as in chess,
+kings, knights, soldiers, bishops, according to their birth, fate and
+fortune; and when the game is over death lays them all as equals in the
+tomb, even as we gather together the chessmen into a box."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I remember those words of Don Quixote," replied Don Lopez,
+astonished at this singular conversation, "and I remember also Sancho's
+reply: 'That however good the comparison was, it was not so new that he
+had not heard it before.'"</p>
+
+<p>"I was your favourite pupil, even your rival," said the Duke, without
+appearing to hear Don Lopez.</p>
+
+<p>"It is true," cried the Bishop. "You are a great master of the game, and
+I have been often proud of having such a pupil. But now, on your knees,
+my son."</p>
+
+<p>They knelt down together, and there before the crucifix Don Gusman made
+confession to Ruy Lopez, who as he listened could hardly restrain his
+tears.</p>
+
+<p>When the Duke had finished, two hours after&mdash;for the confession under
+the Church seal was long and touching&mdash;the Bishop<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> blessed the prisoner,
+and gave him absolution. The face of Don Gusman, as he rose, was calm
+and resigned.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 327px;">
+<img src="images/image224.jpg" width="327" height="500" alt="&quot;THEY KNELT DOWN TOGETHER.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THEY KNELT DOWN TOGETHER.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>But there remained still an hour to wait.</p>
+
+<p>"This delay is torture," cried the Duke. "Why do they not cut off the
+prisoners at once, instead of stretching their souls upon such a rack of
+agony? An eternity of suffering is in each of these minutes." And the
+prisoner began to walk impatiently to and fro, with his eyes constantly
+bent upon the door. The Duke's firmness was shaken by the thought of
+that weary hour of waiting. Ruy Lopez had fulfilled his duty. The
+prisoner's soul was purified, and now the priest could become the
+friend.</p>
+
+<p>As Don Lopez heard Don Gusman utter this exclamation, and saw his face
+grow white, he understood what agony he was undergoing, and felt at once
+that something must be done to divert his thoughts. But in vain he
+racked his brain for an idea. He could think of nothing. What could he
+propose to a man about to die? For such as he, the flower has no longer
+perfume, woman has no longer beauty. Then suddenly a thought flashed
+across his brain.</p>
+
+<p>"How would a game of chess&mdash;" he began, timidly.</p>
+
+<p>"An excellent idea!" cried Don Gusman, recalled to himself by this
+singular proposal. "A farewell game of chess."</p>
+
+<p>"You consent?"</p>
+
+<p>"Most readily; but where are the chessmen, my friend?"</p>
+
+<p>"Am I not always provided with the instruments of war?" said Ruy Lopez,
+smiling. Then he pulled forward the two stools and set out upon the
+table a microscopic set of chessmen. "Our Lady pardon me!" he continued.
+"I often pass my spare time in the confessional in working out some
+problem."</p>
+
+<p>The chessmen being set out, the players took their seats, and were soon
+absorbed in the excitement of the game.</p>
+
+<p>This strange contest, between a priest and a condemned prisoner, made a
+picture worthy of the brush of Rembrandt or Salvator Rosa. The light
+which streamed from the arched windows fell upon the pale, noble
+features of Don Gusman, and upon the venerable head of Ruy Lopez.</p>
+
+<p>The emotions of the two players were very different. Ruy Lopez played
+with a preoccupation which was not usual to him, and which rendered him
+much inferior to his ordinary strength. Don Gusman, on the contrary,
+stimulated by excitement, played with more than his ordinary skill. At
+this moment his noble Castilian blood did not fail him, for never had
+the Duke given better proof of the clearness of his mind. Such a flash
+of intellect must be compared to the last flickers of the failing lamp,
+or to the last song of the dying swan.</p>
+
+<p>Don Gusman suddenly attacked his adversary with an impetuosity which
+nearly gained him a certain victory; but Ruy Lopez, recalled to himself
+by this vigorous effort, defended himself bravely. The game became more
+and more complicated. The Bishop strove to gain a mate which he saw, or
+believed he saw, at hand, whilst Don Gusman played with the eagerness of
+certain victory. Everything was forgotten, and time passed unnoticed.
+The chess-board was their universe, and a life of anxiety was in each
+move.</p>
+
+<p>The minutes, the quarters, the half-hours flew by, and the fatal hour
+arrived at last.</p>
+
+<p>A distant sound struck on their ears; it grew nearer, it increased, and
+the door swinging<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> open gave admittance to Calavar and his assistants,
+who advanced into the cell with torches in their hands. They were armed
+with swords, and two of them bore the block, covered with a black cloth,
+on which lay an axe.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image225.jpg" width="500" height="364" alt="&quot;THE GAME BECAME MORE AND MORE COMPLICATED.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THE GAME BECAME MORE AND MORE COMPLICATED.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The torches were placed in the receptacle prepared for them, whilst one
+of the men scattered cedar sawdust on the floor. All this was the work
+of a moment, while the executioner stood waiting for the prisoner.</p>
+
+<p>As Calavar entered, Ruy Lopez started to his feet, in a tremor of alarm,
+but the Duke did not move. His eyes were fixed upon the chess-board. It
+was his turn to play. Calavar, seeing his abstracted gaze, advanced to
+the Duke's side and placed his hand upon his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Come," he said.</p>
+
+<p>The prisoner shuddered as if he had trodden upon a serpent.</p>
+
+<p>"I must finish this game," he said, imperiously.</p>
+
+<p>"It is impossible," Calavar replied.</p>
+
+<p>"But, fellow, the game is mine! I can force mate in a few moves. Let me
+play it out."</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot. It is impossible," repeated the executioner.</p>
+
+<p>"Are the three hours gone already?"</p>
+
+<p>"The last stroke has just struck. We must obey the King."</p>
+
+<p>The assistants, who had until then stood leaning on their swords, came
+forward at these words.</p>
+
+<p>The Duke was sitting against the wall, under the high window, with the
+table between him and Calavar. He started to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall not move until the game is over. In half an hour my head shall
+be at your disposal."</p>
+
+<p>"My lord," replied Calavar, "I respect you deeply, but I cannot grant
+you this request. I answer for your life with mine."</p>
+
+<p>Don Gusman made a gesture of impatience, and pulling off his diamond
+rings, he threw them at the executioner's feet. "I mean to finish the
+game," he said, carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>The jewels sparkled as they rolled and settled in the dust.</p>
+
+<p>"My orders are imperative," cried Calavar, "and you must pardon us,
+noble Duke, if we have to use force; but the King's orders and the law
+of Spain must be carried out. Obey, then, and do not waste your last
+moments in a useless struggle. Speak to the Duke, my lord Bishop. Tell
+him to submit to his fate."</p>
+
+<p>Ruy Lopez's reply was as prompt as it was decisive. He seized the axe
+which lay upon the block and swung it with both hands above his head.</p>
+
+<p>"By Heaven!" he cried, "the Duke <i>shall</i> finish his game!"</p>
+
+<p>Scared by the gesture which accompanied these words, Calavar drew back
+in such a fright that he stumbled and fell back on his companions. The
+swords flashed from their scabbards, and the band prepared for attack.
+But Ruy Lopez, who appeared to have put forth the strength of a
+Hercules, cast upon the ground his heavy wooden stool.</p>
+
+<p>"The first of you who passes this limit dies!" he cried in a loud voice.
+"Courage, Duke!&mdash;to the attack! There are only four of these miscreants.
+The last desire of your Grace shall be gratified, were I to lose my life
+in the attempt. And you, wretched man, beware how you lay a finger upon
+a Bishop of the Church. Down with your swords and respect the Lord's
+anointed!" And Ruy Lopez continued to hurl forth, in a jargon of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span>
+Spanish and Latin, one of those formulas of excommunication and
+malediction which at that period acted so strongly upon the masses of
+the people.</p>
+
+<p>The effect was prompt. The men stood rooted to the spot with terror,
+whilst Calavar, thinking that to kill a Bishop without a sealed order
+from the King was to run the risk of putting his life in jeopardy in
+this world and his soul in the next, avowed himself vanquished. He knew
+not what to do next. To rush with the news to the King, who was waiting
+impatiently for Don Gusman's head, was only to expose himself. To attack
+the prisoner and the priest would be too hazardous, for Ruy Lopez was a
+man of no mean strength. The position of affairs was critical. At last
+he decided to take the easiest way out of the difficulty&mdash;to wait.</p>
+
+<p>"Will you promise me faithfully to give yourself up in half an hour?" he
+demanded of Don Gusman.</p>
+
+<p>"I promise," replied the Duke.</p>
+
+<p>"Play on, then," said the executioner.</p>
+
+<p>The truce being thus concluded, the players returned to their seats and
+their game, whilst Calavar and his companions, forming themselves into a
+circle, stationed themselves round the two players. Calavar, who was
+himself a chess player, looked on with interest, and could not prevent
+himself from involuntarily considering each move the players made.</p>
+
+<p>Don Gusman looked up for an instant upon the circle of faces which
+surrounded him, but his <i>sang froid</i> did not abandon him.</p>
+
+<p>"Never have I played in the presence of such a noble company!" he cried.
+"Bear witness, rascals, that at least once in my life I have beaten Don
+Lopez." Then he returned to the game with a smile upon his lips. The
+Bishop gripped the handle of the axe which he still held in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"If I were only sure of escaping from this tigers' den," he thought, "I
+would break every head of the four of them."</p>
+
+
+<h4>III.</h4>
+
+<p>If three hours had dragged in the prisoner's cell, they had not passed
+more quickly in the Royal chamber of King Philip.</p>
+
+<p>The King had finished his game with Don Ramirez de Biscay, and the
+nobles, still compelled from etiquette to remain standing, appeared
+almost ready to drop with fatigue, rendered still more painful from the
+weight of their armour.</p>
+
+<p>Don Tarraxas stood motionless, with closed eyes like one of those iron
+figures which ornamented the castles of the savage Goths. Young
+D'Ossuna, with drooping head, stood propped against a marble pillar,
+whilst King Philip strode impatiently about the apartment, only stopping
+at intervals to listen to some imaginary noise. According to the
+superstitious custom of the age, the King knelt for a few moments at the
+foot of a figure of the Virgin placed upon a porphyry pedestal to pray
+the Madonna to pardon him the deed of blood which was about to take
+place. Silence reigned, for no one, whatever his rank might be, dared to
+speak before his Sovereign without his commands.</p>
+
+<p>As the King's eyes saw the last grain of sand fall in the hour-glass he
+uttered an exclamation of joy.</p>
+
+<p>"The traitor dies!" he cried.</p>
+
+<p>An almost inaudible murmur ran through the assembly.</p>
+
+<p>"The hour is passed, Count of Biscay," said Philip, turning to Don
+Ramirez, "and with it your enemy."</p>
+
+<p>"My enemy, sire?" asked Ramirez, affecting surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Why do you repeat my words, Count?" replied the King. "Were you not a
+rival to Don Gusman in the affections of Dona Estella, and can rivals be
+friends? Dona Estella shall be yours. This young girl will bring you her
+beauty and her fortune. I have not spoken of this to our Council, but my
+Royal word is pledged. If the ingratitude of Sovereigns is ever spoken
+of before you, Count, you will be able to reply that we did not forget
+the true friend of the King and of Spain who discovered the plot and the
+correspondence of Don Gusman with France."</p>
+
+<p>Don Ramirez de Biscay seemed to listen to the King with uneasiness. He
+kept his eyes fixed upon the ground, as if he disliked to be thus
+praised in public. Then he made an effort to reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Sire!" he said, "it was with great repugnance that I fulfilled such a
+painful duty"&mdash;he hesitated, and then was silent.</p>
+
+<p>Tarraxas gave a slight start, whilst D'Ossuna struck sharply the pommel
+of his sword with his iron glove.</p>
+
+<p>"Before Dona Estella shall belong to this man," thought D'Ossuna, "I
+will have vengeance or perish in the attempt. Tomorrow shall be the day
+of my revenge."</p>
+
+<p>The King continued:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Your zeal, Don Ramirez, and your devotion must be rewarded. The saviour
+of our throne, and perhaps of our dynasty, merits a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> particular gift.
+This morning I ordered you to make out some <i>lettres-patentes</i>, which
+confer upon you the rank of Duke and Governor of Valence. Are these
+ready to be signed?"</p>
+
+<p>Don Ramirez grew pale with pleasure. He shook like an aspen and his eyes
+grew dim. But the King made an impatient movement, and the Count,
+drawing a roll of parchment hastily from his breast, presented it on his
+knees to the King.</p>
+
+<p>"My first public duty to-day shall be to sign these papers," said the
+King. "The executioner has already punished treason; it is now time for
+the King to recompense fidelity."</p>
+
+<p>The King unrolled the parchment and began to read. As he read, his face
+became convulsed with fury, and his eyes shot forth flames of wrath.</p>
+
+<p>"By my father's soul!" he shouted; "what do I behold?"</p>
+
+
+<h4>IV.</h4>
+
+<p>The game of chess was finished. Don Gusman had beaten Ruy Lopez, and his
+triumph was complete. He rose to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"I am now, as ever, ready to obey the wishes of my King," he said to
+Calavar.</p>
+
+<p>The executioner understood him, and began to prepare the block. Whilst
+this was being done Don Gusman advanced towards the crucifix, and said
+in a firm voice:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Heaven! may this unjust and rash act which is about to take place
+fall upon the head of him who is the instigator of this treachery; but
+let not my blood recoil upon the head of my King."</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 337px;">
+<img src="images/image227.jpg" width="337" height="500" alt="&quot;WHAT DO I BEHOLD?&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;WHAT DO I BEHOLD?&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Ruy Lopez, crouching in a corner of the cell, and burying his face in
+his mantle, began to recite the prayers for the dying.</p>
+
+<p>Calavar approached Don Gusman, and putting his hand upon the Duke's
+shoulder began to loosen his ruff. Don Gusman shrank back from the
+contact.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing that belongs to you, except this axe, shall touch a Gusman," he
+said, taking off his ruff himself and placing his head upon the block.
+"Strike!" he added, "I am ready!"</p>
+
+<p>The executioner raised the axe&mdash;the King's justice was at last to be
+satisfied, when shouts, rapid footsteps and confused voices arrested the
+sweep of the executioner's arm.</p>
+
+<p>The door gave way under the united efforts of a troop of armed men, and
+D'Ossuna, rushing into the cell, threw himself between the executioner
+and his victim. He was just in time.</p>
+
+<p>"He lives!" cried Tarraxas.</p>
+
+<p>"He is saved!" repeated D'Ossuna. "My beloved cousin, I never hoped to
+have seen you alive again. God in His mercy has not let the innocent
+perish for the guilty. God be praised!"</p>
+
+<p>"God be praised!" echoed all the spectators, and louder than the rest
+rang out the voice of Ruy Lopez.</p>
+
+<p>"You have arrived in time, my friend," said Don Gusman to his cousin;
+"but now I shall have no longer strength to die," and he sank back
+fainting on the block. The shock had been too much for him.</p>
+
+<p>Ruy Lopez seized the Duke in his arms, and, followed by all the nobles,
+bore him along the passages to the King's apartment. When Don Gusman
+opened his eyes he found himself in the midst of a circle of his
+friends, amongst which stood<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> the King, looking down upon him with an
+expression of joy.</p>
+
+<p>Don Gusman could hardly believe his senses. From the axe and the block
+he had passed to the King's apartment. He did not understand why this
+change had taken place. He did not know that Don Ramirez, in giving his
+<i>lettres-patentes</i> to the King to sign, had, in his agitation, given him
+instead a paper containing a plot in which he schemed to get rid for
+ever of Don Gusman, a detested rival, and one of the firmest supporters
+of the throne. He was ignorant of all that had passed, and did not know
+how he had escaped from the clutches of the executioner. It was some
+time before everything could be made clear to him.</p>
+
+<p>Three days afterwards, at the same hour as Gusman's miraculous delivery,
+Calavar beheaded Don Ramirez, Count of Biscay, traitor and false
+witness. Don Gusman was overwhelmed with congratulations on all sides.
+King Philip grasped him cordially by his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Gusman," he said, "I have been very unjust. I can never forgive my
+folly."</p>
+
+<p>"Sire," replied the Duke, "let us speak of it no more. Such words spoken
+by my King are worth a thousand lives."</p>
+
+<p>But the King continued.</p>
+
+<p>"I desire," he said, "that henceforth, in commemoration of your almost
+miraculous deliverance, you carry upon your escutcheon a silver axe
+emblazoned on an azure chess-board. This month we shall celebrate your
+marriage with Dona Estella. The marriage shall take place in our
+Escurial Palace."</p>
+
+<p>Then he added, turning to Ruy Lopez:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I believe that the Church will possess a good servant in its new
+Bishop. You shall be consecrated Lord Prelate, with a scarlet robe,
+enriched with diamonds; that will be the recompense of your game of
+chess with Don Gusman."</p>
+
+<p>"Sire," replied Don Lopez, "never before this day have I been satisfied
+to be checkmated."</p>
+
+<p>The King smiled, and the courtiers followed his example.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, my lords," continued Philip, "we invite you all to our Royal
+banquet. Let Don Gusman's seat be placed upon our right, and the Bishop
+of Segovia's on our left. Give me your arm, Don Gusman."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 407px;">
+<img src="images/image228.jpg" width="407" height="450" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Illustrated_Interviews" id="Illustrated_Interviews"></a>Illustrated Interviews</h2>
+
+<h3>XXL&mdash;MR. AND MRS. KENDAL.</h3>
+
+
+<p>If one had waited for a few months, "The Kendals" would have been
+getting settled in their new home in Portland Place. But, then, the
+happiest associations are always centred around the old, and the
+pleasantest and frequently the dearest recollections are gathered about
+the familiar. That is why I went to them once more to their home of many
+years at 145, Harley Street.</p>
+
+<p>It would be difficult to realize a woman of more striking
+characteristics than she who was for so many years known as "Madge"
+Robertson, and notwithstanding a very important visit one morning in
+August twenty-three years ago to St. Saviour's, Plymouth Grove,
+Manchester, when she became the wife of Mr. William Hunter Grimston,
+there are many who still know and speak of her by her happily-remembered
+maiden name. From that day husband and wife have never played
+apart&mdash;they have remained sweethearts on the stage and lovers in their
+own home. At night&mdash;the footlights; by day&mdash;home and children. Mrs.
+Kendal assured me that neither her eldest daughter, Margaret, nor Ethel,
+nor Dorothy&mdash;the youngest&mdash;nor "Dorrie," who is now at Cambridge, nor
+Harold, a "Marlborough" boy, would ever go on the stage. Home, husband,
+and children&mdash;home, wife, and children, are the embodiment of the life
+led by the Kendals.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/image229.jpg" width="550" height="411" alt="THE DRAWING-ROOM" title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE DRAWING-ROOM<br />
+
+<i>From a Photo by Elliott &amp; Fry.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Together with Mr. Kendal we sat down in the drawing-room, and were
+joined for a moment by Miss Grimston, a quiet, unaffected young girl,
+who looked as though she could never rid herself of a smile, either in
+her eyes or about her mouth&mdash;a young maiden who suggested "sunshine."
+She was carrying Victoria, a pet dog. The mother's whole thoughts seemed
+to go out to her daughter.</p>
+
+<p>"Our Jubilee dog," she cried. "I bought her on Jubilee Day, and,
+curiously enough, Mr. Kendal bought one too, neither of us telling the
+other we were going to make such canine purchases."</p>
+
+<p>Then, when Miss Grimston had left the room, her mother turned to me
+quietly, and said:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"The image of my brother Tom. The same hair, the same expression of
+eyes, the same kind and loving ways. I think he lives in my girl. Come
+with me and you shall see his portrait."</p>
+
+<p>It hung in Miss Grimston's boudoir&mdash;an apartment the walls of which were
+decorated with pictures of the Com&eacute;die-Fran&ccedil;aise<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> Company, the original
+designs for the dresses in "A Wife's Secret"; while over the
+mantel-board are Mr. and Mrs. Kendal in "The Ironmaster," and many
+family portraits are about.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image230.jpg" width="500" height="373" alt="MISS GRIMSTON&#39;S BOUDOIR." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MISS GRIMSTON&#39;S BOUDOIR.<br />
+
+<i>From a Photo by Elliott &amp; Fry.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"It is so amusing to hear people talk and write about my eldest brother
+Tom and me playing together as children," she said. "My mother was
+married when she was eighteen, and my brother was born when she was
+nineteen; I was born when she was forty-eight, and was her twenty-second
+child! So my brother was a grown man with a moustache when I knew him. I
+was brought up with his two children&mdash;little Tom and Maude, my own
+nephew and niece."</p>
+
+<p>What a delightful story it was! Little Madge Robertson used to dress up
+as a policeman and take Maude into custody before Tom, the younger, as
+the judge. And this was the trial:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"What is the prisoner charged with, constable?" asked the judge.</p>
+
+<p>"Murder, my lord," replied the representative of law and order.</p>
+
+<p>"Prisoner, are you guilty?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my lord," answered the poor prisoner.</p>
+
+<p>"Prisoner, have you anything to say why sentence should not be passed
+upon you according to law?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my lord. <i>I'm the daughter of the author of 'Caste'.</i>"</p>
+
+<p>The prisoner always got off, and dear old William Robertson would watch
+this little scene and roar with laughter.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Mrs. Kendal said quietly, as we again looked at "Tom's" picture,
+"my brother was kindness itself, even from his infancy. I remember
+hearing how, when he was a very small boy and living with his aunt, he
+went out one summer's day with a new velvet jacket on. He caught sight
+of a poor little beggar child his own size, who was in tatters, and,
+beckoning him across, at once divested himself of his new coat, put it
+on the wondering youngster, and ran away home as fast as he could. His
+aunt questioned him, and upon finding out the true circumstances of the
+case, and not wishing to damp the kind spirit in the little fellow's
+heart, said:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"'Well, we'll go and try to find the boy you gave it to, and buy your
+jacket back.'</p>
+
+<p>"Fortunately the search was successful, and the coat was bought back for
+no less a sum than half-a-sovereign.</p>
+
+<p>"And in later years it was just the same with Tom. He could never pass
+by a common cookshop, in front of the windows of which was often a crowd
+of men, women, and children, looking on with longing eyes, without
+getting them inside and giving them a fill to their hearts' content.
+When out driving it was no different. He would stop the horse, and have
+all the watching hungry ones inside, and the next moment they would be
+revelling in the satisfying properties of thick slices of plum-pudding
+and roast beef."</p>
+
+<p>The house throughout is most artistic. Mr. Kendal is a painter of great
+merit, and he "knows" a picture as soon as he sees it. Pictures are his
+hobby; hence there is not a room in the house&mdash;even to the
+kitchen&mdash;which does not find a place for some canvas, etching, or
+engraving. The entrance-hall is at once striking, with its quaint
+thirteenth century furniture, bronzes, and Venetian ware. There are some
+fine engravings of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> Miss Brunton&mdash;who became Countess of Craven&mdash;Kemble,
+Garrick, Phelps, and Mrs. Siddons. A picture of Mrs. Kendal in "The
+Falcon" was done at the express wish of, and paid for by, the late Poet
+Laureate. Tennyson said it reminded him of a woman he liked and admired.
+In the shadow is a fine bust of Macready, given by the great actor to
+the father of Mrs. Kendal; resting against the fireplace on either side
+are the two lances used in "The Queen's Shilling," and close by are two
+huge masks representing a couple of very hirsute individuals. They came
+from California, and represent "The King of the Devils" and "The King of
+the Winds."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/image231-1.jpg" width="550" height="422" alt="THE HALL. (From a Photo, by Elliott &amp; Fry.)" title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE HALL. (<i>From a Photo, by Elliott &amp; Fry.</i>)</span>
+</div><p><br /><br /></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 539px;">
+<img src="images/image231-2.jpg" width="539" height="400" alt="THE DINING ROOM. (From a Photo, by Elliott &amp; Fry.)" title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE DINING ROOM. (<i>From a Photo, by Elliott &amp; Fry.</i>)</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The entrance to the dining-room is typical of all the other door
+decoration in the house&mdash;a carving of cream enamel of beautiful design
+and workmanship. The walls of this apartment are terra-cotta, with a
+finely carved oak-panelling. It is a little treasure room of canvases,
+the gem of which is probably C. Van Hannen's "Mask Shop in Venice"&mdash;a
+painter of a school which Luke Fildes, R.A., has done so much to
+popularize. Macbeth is represented by a couple of delightful efforts,
+and there are samples of the skill of Eugene Du Blas, Crofts, John Reid,
+Andriotti, Sadler, De Haas, Rivers; a grand landscape by Webb&mdash;nearly
+all of which are Academy works. The decorative articles are as artistic
+as in some cases they are peculiar. Running about above the oaken
+fireplace, amongst choice bronzes and blue ware, and a black boy who is
+trudging along with a very useful clock on his back, are many quaint
+animals of polished brass&mdash;even mice are not missing, with wonderfully
+long tails&mdash;that sparkle and glisten in the firelight. Ascending the
+staircase you find etchings<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> after Alma Tadema, Briton Riviere, and
+others; the walls are covered with them.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/image232.jpg" width="550" height="364" alt="SCENE FROM &quot;THE SQUIRE.&quot; From the Picture by Mr.
+Kendal." title="" />
+<span class="caption">SCENE FROM &quot;THE SQUIRE.&quot; <i>From the Picture by Mr.
+Kendal.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Here are a series of delightful pictures showing Mr. and Mrs. Kendal in
+Gilbert's "Sweethearts," and I am reminded that the gifted actor and
+actress were the first to appear before the Queen after a period of
+five-and-twenty years, during which Her Majesty had never seen a play,
+the performance that night consisting of "Sweethearts" and Theyre
+Smith's "Uncle's Will." And as one takes note of many rare works&mdash;the
+bedroom is almost entirely given up to Dor&eacute;'s marvellous creations,
+though near the window is a splendid specimen of the photographer's art:
+a head of Miss Mary Anderson&mdash;one cannot fail to observe the family
+spirit everywhere&mdash;sometimes portraits of children, sometimes small and
+dainty pencil studies made of them by their father. Occasionally
+theatrical sketches by Mr. Kendal appear. Here are some of the principal
+members of the old St. James's Company, who used to give Mr. Kendal
+sittings between the acts&mdash;here a capital bit of artistic work depicting
+a scene from "The Squire," made from stray memorandums and with the aid
+of a looking-glass for securing the actor-artist's face.</p>
+
+<p>Leaving Mr. Kendal for a time, Mrs. Kendal and I returned to the
+drawing-room. It overlooks Harley Street and is a handsome two-roomed
+apartment, the prevailing tone of blue, cream, and gold harmonizing to
+perfection. It is positively one huge collection of curios.</p>
+
+<p>The screen at the far end is rather shuddery, not to say creepy, to
+those of nervous temperament. It is decorated with tomahawks of fearful
+and wonderful shapes and sizes, and other Indian implements of warfare.</p>
+
+<p>"These came from California," Mrs. Kendal explained. "No sooner are you
+out of the train than the Indians tomahawk you! Look at this bow and
+arrow."</p>
+
+<p>The pots of palms and ferns all hold American flags. These colours&mdash;the
+stars and stripes&mdash;once surmounted baskets of flowers and floral
+emblems&mdash;five, six, and even seven feet high&mdash;handed to Mrs. Kendal
+during her recent tour in the States; and amongst the sweetly-perfumed
+blossoms diamonds, pearls, and other precious gems have glistened in the
+shape of ornaments. A table near the window tells you of the generosity
+of the Americans. It is crowded with silver ornaments and mementos. You
+may handle the diminutive silver candlesticks to light "The Kendals"
+away&mdash;silver jugs, souvenir spoons, frying-pans, coffee-pots&mdash;all in
+miniature. This silver dollar is only one of a hundred. You touch a
+spring, when, lo and behold! the portrait of the donor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> appears. All
+American women have dainty feet. These little ebony and silver lasts for
+your boots remind you of this. On this table is a letter from the
+Princess of Wales, thanking Mrs. Kendal for "the lovely silver wedding
+bells and flowers which you so kindly sent me on the tenth." You may
+examine George IV.'s cigar-case&mdash;a silver tube in which the King was
+wont to carry a single cigar. It is impossible to number all the
+treasured odds and ends, but still more difficult to total up the
+miniature articles set out in a pair of cabinets.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image233-1.jpg" width="450" height="294" alt="NAPOLEON&#39;S WRITING-TABLE From a Photo by Elliott &amp;
+Fry." title="" />
+<span class="caption">NAPOLEON&#39;S WRITING-TABLE <i>From a Photo by Elliott &amp;
+Fry.</i></span>
+</div>
+<p><br /><br /></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/image233-2.jpg" width="550" height="382" alt="&quot;SHAKESPEARE AND BACON&quot; From the Picture by A. E.
+Emslie." title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;SHAKESPEARE AND BACON&quot; <i>From the Picture by A. E.
+Emslie.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Mrs. Kendal has a hobby&mdash;it lies in the collecting of the tiniest of
+tiny things. If her intimate friends come across any curiosity
+particularly choice and small, it is at once snapped up and dispatched
+to Harley Street. I had some little leaden mice in my hand the size of
+half-a-dozen pins' heads. Handkerchiefs an inch square, babies' woollen
+shoes, pinafores, shirts, all of the tiniest, but perfectly made, with
+buttons and button-holes complete, and even buns with currants no bigger
+than a pin's point. Sheep, dogs, cats, monkeys, pigs, giraffes&mdash;in
+short, convert the entire Zoo into miniature china knick-knacks, and you
+have a considerable portion of Mrs. Kendal's collection realized. One
+must needs stand for a moment at Napoleon's writing-table, near which
+rests a characteristic clay by Van Beers. The pictures here are many.
+Millais' work is well represented by several etchings, and a remarkably
+clever thing by Emslie, entitled "Shakespeare and Bacon," suggests the
+two extremes of taste to a nicety. Whilst a young enthusiast is
+declaiming Shakespeare, one of his listeners&mdash;doubtless, equally
+enthusiastic, but with an eye for victuals&mdash;is interrupting a soliloquy
+with the remark: "Now! who says bacon?" Every portrait has a
+history&mdash;Prince and Princess Henry of Battenberg in their wedding
+garments,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> the late Duke of Albany, Professor Huxley, Mrs. Beecher
+Stowe, Mr. and Mrs. Pinero, Mr. and Mrs. Bancroft, and many others.
+Three suggestive pictures, however, cannot be passed by. This dear
+little fellow is the son of Mr. B. J. Farjeon. Mr. Farjeon married "Rip
+Van Winkle" Jefferson's daughter, and the youngster is pictured dressed
+in the tattered garments of merry, rollicking <i>Rip</i>. You know how <i>Rip</i>
+always drinks your health? He holds the glass of hollands high up and
+cries, "Here's your health and your family's good health, and may they
+all live long and prosper!" but Mr. Farjeon's little boy cries out,
+"Here's your health, and your family's good health, and may you all live
+long and <i>proper</i>!"</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 291px;">
+<img src="images/image234-1.jpg" width="291" height="350" alt="GROUP IN CLAY BY JAN VAN BEERS." title="" />
+<span class="caption">GROUP IN CLAY BY JAN VAN BEERS.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 214px;">
+<img src="images/image234-2.jpg" width="214" height="350" alt="MRS. KENDAL AS &quot;GALATEA&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">MRS. KENDAL AS &quot;GALATEA&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>A photo, of Dr. Pancoast stands near a bust of Mrs. Kendal as <i>Galatea</i>,
+done when she was seventeen. Dr. Pancoast&mdash;a celebrated American
+physician&mdash;saved Mrs. Kendal's life when her maid accidentally
+administered a poisonous drug to her mistress. The poor girl herself
+nearly died of fright.</p>
+
+<p>But perhaps the portrait of the late Duchess of Cambridge, which Mrs.
+Kendal now holds in her hand, is more interesting than them all. "Her
+late Royal Highness," Mrs. Kendal said, "always addressed me and wrote
+to me as Mrs. Grimston. She was paralyzed in her right hand and wrote
+with her left; perhaps that is why this letter, written in pencil and
+with great effort, is treasured more than it otherwise would have been."</p>
+
+<p>It was one of the last letters written by Her Royal Highness. The
+letters and words were wonderfully legible; it read:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Mrs. Grimston</span>,&mdash;One line only to thank you for sending me
+the stalls for my dressers, who enjoyed your and Mr. Grimston's
+charming acting immensely. My first deaf one was able to follow
+perfectly, thanks to your having kindly let her have the book
+previously. Again thanking you,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I remain,<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">"Yours very sincerely,<br /></span>
+<span class="i8"><span class="smcap">Augusta</span>."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<p>And in a little cabinet in the far corner is a beautiful S&egrave;vres bowl. In
+the bowl is a telegram from "Princess Mary," asking Mrs. Kendal to come
+to St. James's Palace at once. Written on a black-edged envelope were
+these words: "To dearest Mrs. Grimston Kendal. A little souvenir. Found
+amongst the last wishes of her late Royal Highness the Duchess of
+Cambridge."</p>
+
+<p>It is only just possible to hasten through the collection of substantial
+reminiscences which add to the charm of this corner of the house. The
+quaint white china hare was given to Mrs. Kendal many years ago by Mr.
+John Hare, when playing together at the Court. A curious but vividly
+suggestive idea of Japanese wit, in the shape of a couple of
+characteristically dressed figures, typifies "Health" and "Wealth"; the
+figure, representing "Health" has a countenance of the deepest red, the
+other a face all golden and as resplendent as the sun. In a small frame
+is the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> letter from the Goethe Club of New York, making Mrs. Kendal an
+honorary member. She is the only woman member of this club. And this
+pretty little doll dressed as a Quakeress&mdash;a charming compliment to the
+recipient&mdash;was presented by the Quakeresses of Philadelphia, who never,
+never, never go the play, yea, verily! So they sent this as a tribute of
+their admiration for the talents and character of the woman who has been
+called "The Matron of the Drama."</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 217px;">
+<img src="images/image235.jpg" width="217" height="350" alt="MRS. KENDALL&#39;S LITTLE QUAKERESS." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MRS. KENDALL&#39;S LITTLE QUAKERESS.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>We sat down on a settee in front of the fire. The cushions were of white
+lawn marked with the initial "M.," and were worked by the late Lady
+Eglinton.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Kendal's happy and homely face is familiar to all. She has a truly
+tender and sympathetic expression there at all times. Her hair was once
+that of the fair one with golden locks, now it is of a rich brown
+colour&mdash;very neatly and naturally trimmed about her head. She is very
+kind&mdash;very motherly; just the woman you would single out in time of
+trouble and ask, "What would you advise me to do?" I gathered these
+impressions whilst listening to many things she said of which I need not
+write. Her views on theatrical life are strong, nay, severe. She is not
+afraid to speak, and she hits hard and sends her shots home. But you
+cannot mistake the earnestness of her manner, the true intent of her
+motives.</p>
+
+<p>"I am only a common-place woman," she said to me. "I used to be ever so
+light-hearted&mdash;now, I'm a morbid creature. Here we are sitting down by
+the fireside. I may tell you happy reminiscences that may make one
+merry, and all the time I should be thinking about&mdash;what? Cancer! I
+return to my dressing-room from the stage at night. As I am passing
+along a fellow player may turn to me and say, 'How well the play has
+gone to-night!' I am only thinking of those who have trod that same
+stage before me. What are they now? Dust&mdash;earth&mdash;worms!"</p>
+
+<p>I stirred the fire, and the bright glow from its burning embers lit up
+the corner where we sat. And we talked together.</p>
+
+<p>Margaret Brunton Robertson was born at Great Grimsby on March 15th,
+1849&mdash;curiously enough these lines will be read on the anniversary of
+her birthday. Her grandfather, father, and uncle were all actors.</p>
+
+<p>"I lived alone with my father and mother," she said, "and the only real
+recollection I have of my father is his fine white beard, which he grew
+towards the latter days of his life, and a little advice he once gave
+me.</p>
+
+<p>"'Always count twenty,' he said, 'when you are walking across the quay
+at Bristol, then you won't hear the sailors swear!' Yet he would use
+very bad language to me when he was teaching me my parts; for you know I
+commenced acting at a very early age. I was only three when I made my
+first appearance&mdash;and I ruined the play. It was at the Marylebone
+Theatre in the 'Three Poor Travellers,' and I was a blind child. My
+nurse was in the front row of the pit&mdash;that is, in the very first row,
+for there were no stalls. All I thought about was my new shoes&mdash;a very
+pretty, dainty little pair, and as soon as I stepped on the stage, I
+opened my eyes, caught sight of the delighted face of my nurse, and
+cried out:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"'Oh! nursey, dear, look at my new shoes!'</p>
+
+<p>"I played at Chute's Theatre in Bristol in many child's parts. When my
+father went to the wall over the Lincoln Circuit, Mr. Chute engaged him
+as an actor, and I went with him. I remember in 'A Midsummer Night's
+Dream'&mdash;I was <i>Mustard Seed</i>, I think, or <i>Peas Blossom</i>; at any rate,
+some small character that required very prettily dressing, and plenty of
+flowers on my little costume. I am as fond of flowers to-day as I was
+then. Well, when once I got on the stage in my pretty dress&mdash;of which I
+was particularly proud&mdash;before I would leave it, I had to be bought off
+with apples and oranges! There they would stand at the wings, and the
+price<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> would go up&mdash;up&mdash;up&mdash;two oranges, three oranges, three oranges
+and two apples&mdash;until I inwardly murmured a childish equivalent for
+'sold,' and toddled off.</p>
+
+<p>"I acted <i>Eva</i> in 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' when I was eight. I think I was
+always a sad child&mdash;I looked forty when I was fifteen. After little
+<i>Eva</i> I used to play anything."</p>
+
+<p>And they were hard times for little Madge&mdash;she worked like the brave
+little woman she was. Her childish thoughts were constantly with her
+parents&mdash;how best could she add to the weekly income. And this is what
+the same little Madge would do. Night after night, after playing in a
+serious piece, she would appear in burlesque, sing, dance, and crack her
+small jokes with the best of them. It was hard work that made her a
+woman&mdash;it was dearly-bought experience that gave birth to the
+sympathetic heart she has to-day.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 237px;">
+<img src="images/image236.jpg" width="237" height="350" alt="MRS. KENDAL. From a Photo. by Bassano." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MRS. KENDAL. <i>From a Photo. by Bassano.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<p>So at fourteen she was a woman grown&mdash;and at fifteen at Hull played
+<i>Lady Macbeth</i> to Phelps's <i>Macbeth</i>!</p>
+
+<p>"I was dressed in my mother's clothes," Mrs. Kendal said, "and I fear I
+must have looked a fearful guy!"</p>
+
+<p>At rehearsal Phelps looked upon the young woman.</p>
+
+<p>"And who&mdash;who is this child?" asked the great actor.</p>
+
+<p>"Madge Robertson," the manager answered; "a rare favourite here. It was
+a choice between her and a very old woman, Mr. Phelps."</p>
+
+<p>"Then let the young woman play, by all means," Phelps said.</p>
+
+<p>What a night it was! At the end of the play they wanted her on again,
+but Phelps was obdurate. A party of men came round, and threatened to
+throw Phelps into the Humber! Phelps remained firm.</p>
+
+<p>"He was kindness itself through it all," Mrs. Kendal assured me, "and
+though I did not go on again, he proved his thoughtfulness a little
+later on by sending for me to play <i>Lady Teazle</i>. I played the leading
+parts during the three nights Phelps remained in Hull in 'The Man of the
+World,' 'Richelieu,' and 'Macbeth.' On July 29th, 1865, I made my
+<i>d&eacute;but</i> in London, at the Haymarket, as <i>Ophelia</i> to the <i>Hamlet</i> of
+Walter Montgomery. Poor Montgomery! He was what you would call a
+'lady-killer'&mdash;very conceited, but, withal, very kind. He once wrote a
+letter to my father, and added a postscript, saying: 'Keep this letter.
+Should poverty fall upon you or yours, your great-grand-children may be
+able to sell it for a good sum of money!' I was only with him six
+weeks."</p>
+
+<p>The only play of her brother's in which Mrs. Kendal has appeared was
+"Dreams," when the Gaiety first opened. At this time the managers always
+tried to induce Mrs. Kendal to appear in a riding habit&mdash;a costume in
+which she looked strikingly handsome.</p>
+
+<p>"Alfred Wigan played in 'Dreams,'" continued Mrs. Kendal. "His wife was
+one of the kindest women I ever met. She gave me a gold bracelet for a
+very curious little service I used to render her husband every night. He
+had to sing a song in 'Dreams,' and one or two of the high notes were
+beyond his reach. I used to take these notes for him, and the audience
+never guessed the truth."</p>
+
+<p>"And have you not played <i>Desdemona</i>?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! yes&mdash;and to a real black man, and so he did not have to put his
+head up the chimney to make himself up for the part! His name was Ira
+Aldridge, and scandal said he was the dresser of some great actor whom
+he used to imitate. But he had very ingenious ideas as to the character
+of <i>Othello</i>. He thought him a brute, and played him as such. His great
+notion was to get the fairest woman possible for <i>Desdemona</i>&mdash;and I was
+selected, for at that time my hair was quite golden.</p>
+
+<p>"In one part of the play he would cry out, 'Give me thy hand,
+Desdemona!' and certainly the effect of my hand in his huge grasp was
+impressive. Then in the last act he would pull me from the couch by the
+hair of my head. Oh! there was something in his realism, I can tell
+you!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Miss Robertson made a great sensation when she appeared as <i>Blanche
+Dumont</i>, in Dr. Westland Marston's "Hero of Romance," when it was
+performed for the first time at the Haymarket Theatre, on March 14th,
+1868. Seventeen months after this, on August 7th, 1869, she was Madge
+Robertson no longer. On that day she was married to Mr. William Hunter
+Grimston, whose stage name is Kendal. It is a charming little story.</p>
+
+<p>It occurred at Manchester. Mr. Kendal and Miss Robertson were on tour
+with the elder Compton, and they were&mdash;sweethearts. A convenient time
+seemed to have arrived for their wedding day, for on the Thursday,
+Friday, and Saturday nights pieces were to be played in which neither of
+them would be required. This would mean a nice little honeymoon&mdash;and the
+two lovers would reappear on the Monday night. So the day was
+fixed&mdash;Thursday; the church chosen&mdash;St. Saviour's, Plymouth Grove; and
+the best man booked&mdash;Walter Gowing, who used to play under the name of
+Walter Gordon.</p>
+
+<p>Then bad news came. Compton's brother was taken ill, and he had to hurry
+away from Cottonopolis. Another play had to be put in the bill, both Mr.
+Kendal and Miss Robertson would be needed&mdash;for it was "As You Like It,"
+and the one would be wanted for <i>Orlando</i> and the other for <i>Rosalind</i>.
+Still, the wedding was proceeded with on Thursday morning, quietly and
+happily, and in the evening husband and wife met on the stage in the
+Forest of Arden. There, with <i>Celia</i> as the priest, amidst the leafy
+trees and grassy pathways, <i>Orlando</i> turns to the merry <i>Celia</i>, and
+pointing to the far, far happier <i>Rosalind</i>, cries out:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Pray thee, marry us!"</p>
+
+<p>"Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rosalind?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will."</p>
+
+<p>"Then," <i>Rosalind</i> pertly remarks, "you must say, 'I take thee,
+Rosalind, for wife.'"</p>
+
+<p>"I take thee, Rosalind, for wife," said <i>Orlando</i>, earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>Then <i>Rosalind</i> asked, "Now tell me how long you would have her after
+you have possessed her?"</p>
+
+<p>And <i>Orlando</i> replied&mdash;both in the words of Shakespeare and in the
+language of his own heart&mdash;"For ever and a day!"</p>
+
+<p>That is the true story of the wedding of Mr. and Mrs. Kendal. It was a
+natural desire of each never to play apart from the other, and from that
+day they have never separated. For some seven years Mr. and Mrs. Kendal
+played at the Haymarket, under Buckstone's management, and the gifted
+actress merrily referred to the little jokes played on "Bucky" by some
+of the actors. He was stone deaf, and could only take his cues when to
+speak from the movements of his fellow-actors' lips, so they would annoy
+him by continuing the lip movement, and "Bucky" sometimes got "stuck."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 539px;">
+<img src="images/image237.jpg" width="539" height="400" alt="THE DRAWING-ROOM. From a Photo. by Elliott &amp; Fry." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE DRAWING-ROOM. <i>From a Photo. by Elliott &amp; Fry.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Little need be said of Mrs. Kendal's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> subsequent work&mdash;her acting at the
+Court, the Prince of Wales's, and her labours at the St. James's, when,
+in 1881, she appeared there under the joint management of Mr. Kendal and
+Mr. Hare. Not only in this country has her name become fondly familiar
+in the homes of those who "go to the theatre" and those who "never
+would," but in America the artistic acting of herself and husband has
+been instantly and enthusiastically recognised.</p>
+
+<p>I left the drawing-room&mdash;pausing, before entering Mr. Kendal's study, to
+admire the aviary&mdash;a veritable home of song&mdash;and to notice one
+diminutive member of the feathered tribe in particular, who has been
+taught by Miss Grimston to perform tricks <i>ad lib.</i>, in addition to
+giving forth the sweetest of notes.</p>
+
+<p>The study is a very delicate apartment in terra-cotta and gold&mdash;here and
+there are quaint blue china vases and many exquisite bronzes. The window
+in the recess where the table is&mdash;a typical study table, suggesting
+plenty of work&mdash;is of stained glass, the quartet of divisions
+representing the four seasons. A glance round the walls of this room at
+once reveals the substantial side of Mr. Kendal's artistic
+hobby&mdash;pictures. In this apartment there is nothing but water-colours,
+save a very clever pen-and-ink sketch by a New York artist, called "Six
+Months After Marriage," which Jefferson caught sight of at the New York
+Dramatic Bazaar, and reminded Mr. Kendal to "keep his eye on," and a
+portrait or two of Mrs. Kendal and the children. "Hetty Sorrell" at her
+butter pats, with her thoughts very far from the churning-pan, is a gem.
+"The Last of St. Bartholomew" is a magnificent bit of painting, and the
+Venetian views at once carry one back to the home of the merry gondolier
+and perfect moonlight nights. This picture of Salvini&mdash;who its possessor
+assured me was the finest tragedian he had ever seen&mdash;was painted by Mr.
+Kendal himself. The bookcase, running along opposite the window,
+contains many rare first editions, of which Mr. Kendal is a very
+persevering and successful collector, and a bound manuscript copy of
+every play produced by him, together with the original sketches for the
+scenery. You may look over the "Scrap of Paper," "The Falcon," "Queen's
+Shilling," "Ladies' Battle," "Clancarty," "The Ironmaster," "The Money
+Spinner," and "The Squire"&mdash;Pinero's play, of which somebody wrote that
+it wafted the scent of the new-mown hay across the footlights.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 314px;">
+<img src="images/image238.jpg" width="314" height="450" alt="PORTRAIT OF SALVANI, BY MR. KENDAL." title="" />
+<span class="caption">PORTRAIT OF SALVANI, BY MR. KENDAL.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>It is interesting to learn how Mr. Kendal first came across Pinero.</p>
+
+<p>"I only knew him as an actor at the Lyceum," he said, "and had never met
+him. He wrote and asked if we would let him read a play to us. As a rule
+we never do that; but, remembering that Pinero was himself a player, we
+made an exception. So it came about that one day, after a rehearsal, the
+actor playwright read his piece to us in the <i>foyer</i> of the St. James's.
+We never expected anything at first, but the reading ended in our taking
+the play immediately, though we scarcely knew what we should do with it,
+seeing it was a two-act play. We found an opportunity, however, and you
+know the success it was. It was called 'The Money Spinner.'"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Kendal is a striking-looking man&mdash;the very ideal of a picturesque
+soldier, with a constitution of steel. He talks to you frankly, easily,
+for there is not two penny-worth of presumption about him. He lives and
+labours very quietly&mdash;he enjoys his days, and a good cigar. He divides
+his talents between the stage and the brush. His pencil and palette have
+been with him in far-off<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> places, and there is always a corner in his
+bag for them if he only travels twenty miles from Harley Street. His
+peculiarity of painting&mdash;so to speak&mdash;lies in the fact that he never
+fails to chronicle the view obtained from any hotel where he may be
+staying. He showed me a book full of these hasty impressions&mdash;all of
+which were most beautifully done&mdash;many of them he could only give ten
+minutes or a quarter of an hour to. Two of these I brought away for
+reproduction in these pages; they are both unfinished, however&mdash;the
+pencil reminders of certain little additions tell that.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image239.jpg" width="500" height="362" alt="SKETCH FROM THE QUEEN&#39;s HOTEL, MANCHESTER, BY MR.
+KENDAL." title="" />
+<span class="caption">SKETCH FROM THE QUEEN&#39;s HOTEL, MANCHESTER, BY MR.
+KENDAL.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The first of these is a view of the Infirmary as seen from Mr. Kendal's
+window at the Queen's Hotel, Manchester; the second&mdash;done in a quarter
+of an hour&mdash;shows the way the Americans erect their buildings for
+exhibiting a cyclorama&mdash;popularly known here as a panorama. It was done
+from a back window in an hotel in Cleveland, U.S.A. The actor-artist
+never learnt drawing, save for a few hours' lessons he took at the Slade
+Schools under the tuition of Le Gros. He draws everything that impresses
+him&mdash;his painting memory is remarkable. He sees a man's face in the
+street, carries it home in his mind, and it will be very faithfully put
+on paper or canvas.</p>
+
+<p>We talked for a long time on "pictures"&mdash;he was so happy and earnest
+about it that it was some time before we made an attempt to tread the
+boards and get behind the footlights.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Kendal&mdash;William Hunter Grimston&mdash;was born at Notting Hill, and just
+outside the sound of Bow Bells, on December 16th, 1843. His parents
+belonged to the Low Church, and their views of the theatre in general,
+and on adopting the stage as a profession in particular, will be readily
+understood. Mr. Kendal was intended for the Army&mdash;how he came to "go on"
+the stage is best told in his own words:</p>
+
+<p>"I had only been to three or four pantomimes previously," he said, "and
+one night&mdash;I was about eighteen years of age at the time&mdash;I found myself
+in the stalls of the old Soho Theatre, in Dean Street, Soho, now known
+as the Royalty Theatre. My paper and pencil were out, and I was busily
+engaged in making sketches of the various actors and actresses. The
+piece was 'Billie Taylor.' Suddenly I felt a gentle tap on the shoulder
+from behind. I turned round.</p>
+
+<p>"'Would you allow me to take those sketches round and show the 'parties'
+interested?' a gentleman asked.</p>
+
+<p>"'Certainly; with pleasure,' I replied.</p>
+
+<p>"'Perhaps you would like to come behind the scenes as well?'</p>
+
+<p>"It was just what I wanted, so I followed the person who had so kindly
+interested himself in my scribble. He proved to be Mr. Mowbray, the
+manager of the theatre. The picture behind the scenes that night was a
+perfect Elysium to me. I think Mowbray must have noticed the impression
+it made upon me, for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> he asked if I would like to go on the stage. I
+did&mdash;as a sort of super."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image240.jpg" width="500" height="366" alt="SKETCH FROM HOTEL WINDOW, CLEVELAND, U.S.A., BY MR.
+KENDAL." title="" />
+<span class="caption">SKETCH FROM HOTEL WINDOW, CLEVELAND, U.S.A., BY MR.
+KENDAL.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Mr. Kendal's first important engagement lasted four or five years at the
+Theatre Royal, Glasgow. Here he met and played with such people as Helen
+Faucit (Lady Martin), G. V. Brooke, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Kean, Dion
+Boucicault, Fechter, Miss Bateman (Mrs. Crowe), and the elder Sothern.
+When Sothern left, the accomplished young actor played <i>Dundreary</i>, and
+found himself straying in the footsteps of the famous originator of the
+part, even to the hop. One would have thought that people would have
+praised the actor for taking such a worthy example&mdash;but it displeased
+Tom Taylor, and he wrote very wrathfully. Then Mr. Kendal went to the
+Haymarket, met Miss Robertson, and from their wedding day their lives
+may be said to have been the same in thought, word, and deed.</p>
+
+<p>As an organizer and man of business his tact and judgment were tested
+and proved during his joint management of the St. James's with Mr. Hare
+in 1881. For some time previous to this Mr. Kendal had been on the
+look-out for a theatre, and his mind wandered towards the St. James's,
+but it required a large sum of money spending on it before it could be
+opened.</p>
+
+<p>"One night I was talking to Lord Newry at my club," said Mr. Kendal,
+"and happened to say that if &pound;2,000 or so were spent on the St. James's
+I might feel inclined to take it.</p>
+
+<p>"'Suppose I spend that amount of money on the place, will you take it?'
+Lord Newry asked.</p>
+
+<p>"My only reply was that I would think about it. In the meantime I went
+to the Court, from there to the Prince of Wales's to play in
+'Diplomacy'&mdash;it ran a year&mdash;'Peril' and 'London Assurance.' Then I
+returned to the Court again, and during this time Lord Newry had
+practically gutted the old and unlucky St. James's, turned it inside
+out&mdash;John Hare, my wife and self entered, and we remained there nearly
+ten years."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. and Mrs. Kendal share the same opinion of America&mdash;it is the land of
+to-day, the land of the future. As to its theatres in comparison with
+ours, Mrs. Kendal&mdash;who had now joined us&mdash;was most enthusiastic. I had
+reached the pillars, from which hung curtains of intricate Japanese
+workmanship, leading to the hall. Victoria, the Jubilee dog, was barking
+a friendly "Good-bye," and the lusty throats of Miss Grimston's
+two-and-twenty canaries forced their sweet notes from a far-away room
+into the passage.</p>
+
+<p>"I will give you some idea of what an American theatre is like," said
+Mrs. Kendal. "You reach your destination by rail at some small place for
+a one-night stay. If it is raining and the ground is wet, men in long
+jack-boots catch hold of you and gallantly take you across the puddles.
+You do not see a soul about&mdash;and you are in fear and trembling as to
+where your night's audience<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> is coming from. You get to your hotel, and
+then your next thought is&mdash;where is the theatre? You expect to find a
+little, uncomfortable, band-box of a place, and you set out to see it
+with a heavy heart. It is a palace&mdash;a marble palace&mdash;a positive poem!
+And your heart leaps happily&mdash;only to drop dull again, for you suddenly
+remember that you have seen&mdash;nobody, not even the oldest inhabitant. You
+turn to the manager.</p>
+
+<p>"'Yes, yes&mdash;but, what about an audience, how are you going to fill it?'
+you ask.</p>
+
+<p>"'Wall,' he replies, 'I don't trouble myself much about that. I reckon
+that every seat in this theatre is sold for to-night, that's all!'"</p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Harry How.</span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 388px;">
+<img src="images/image241.jpg" width="388" height="500" alt="MR. KENDAL. From a Photo. by Maurice Stephens,
+Harrogat." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MR. KENDAL. From a Photo. by Maurice Stephens,
+Harrogat.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Author_Author" id="Author_Author"></a>"<i>Author! Author</i>!"</h2>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">By E. W. Hornung.</span></h3>
+
+
+<p>This story has to do with two men and a play, instead of a woman, and it
+is none of mine. I had it from an old gentleman I love: only he ought to
+have written it himself. This, however, he will never do; having known
+intimately in his young days one of the two men concerned. But I have
+his leave to repeat the story more or less as he told it&mdash;if I can. And
+I am going to him for my rebuke&mdash;when I dare.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>"You want to hear the story of poor old Pharazyn and his play? I'm now
+going to tell it you.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, well! My recollection of the matter dates from one summer's night
+at my old rooms in the Adelphi, when he spoilt my night's work by coming
+in flushed with an idea of his own. I remember banging the drawer into
+which I threw my papers to lock them away for the night; but in a few
+minutes I had forgotten my unfinished article, and was glad that
+Pharazyn had come. We were young writers, both of us; and, let me tell
+you, my good fellow, young writing wasn't in those days what it is now.
+I am thinking less of merit than of high prices, and less of high prices
+than of cheap notoriety. Neither of us had ever had our names before the
+public&mdash;not even in the advertised contents of an unread and unreadable
+magazine. No one cared about names in my day, save for the half-dozen
+great ones that were then among us; so Pharazyn's and mine never used to
+appear in the newspapers, though some of them used our stuff.</p>
+
+<p>"In a manner we were rivals, for we were writing the same sort of thing
+for the same sort of publications, and that was how we had come
+together; but never was rivalry friendlier, or mutually more helpful.
+Our parts were strangely complementary; if I could understand for the
+life of me the secret of collaboration, which has always been a mystery
+to me, I should say that I might have collaborated with Pharazyn almost
+ideally. I had the better of him in point of education, and would have
+turned single sentences against him for all he was worth; and I don't
+mind saying so, for there my superiority ended. When he had a story to
+tell, he told it with a swing and impetus which I coveted him, as well I
+might to this day; and if he was oftener without anything to write
+about, his ideas would pay twenty shillings in the pound, in strength
+and originality, where mine made some contemptible composition in pence.
+That is why I have been a failure at fiction&mdash;oh, yes, I have! That is
+why Pharazyn would have succeeded, if only he had stuck to plain
+ordinary narrative prose.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 447px;">
+<img src="images/image242.jpg" width="447" height="450" alt="&quot;HE SKETCHED THE NEW STORY.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;HE SKETCHED THE NEW STORY.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"The idea he was unable to keep within his own breast, on the evening of
+which I am telling you, was as new, and simple, and dramatic as any that
+ever intoxicated the soul of story-teller or made a brother author green
+with envy. I can see him now, as I watched him that night, flinging to
+and fro with his quick, nervous stride, while he sketched the new
+story&mdash;bit by bit, and often the wrong bit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> foremost; but all with his
+own flashing vividness, which makes me so sorry&mdash;so sorry whenever I
+think of it. At moments he would stand still before the chair on which I
+sat intent, and beat one hand upon the other, and look down at me with a
+grand, wondering smile, as though he himself could hardly believe what
+the gods had put into his head, or that the gift was real gold, it
+glittered so at first sight. On that point I could reassure him. My open
+jealousy made me admire soberly. But when he told me, quite suddenly, as
+though on an afterthought, that he meant to make a play of it and not a
+story, I had the solid satisfaction at that moment of calling him a
+fool.</p>
+
+<p>"The ordinary author of my day, you see, had a certain timorous respect
+for the technique of the stage. It never occurred to us to make light of
+those literary conventions which it was not our business to understand.
+We were behind you fellows in every way. But Pharazyn was a sort of
+forerunner: he said that any intelligent person could write a play, if
+he wanted to, and provided he could write at all. He said his story was
+a born play; and it was, in a way; but I told him I doubted whether he
+could train it up with his own hand to be a good-acting one. I knew I
+was right. He had neither the experience nor the innate constructive
+faculty, one or other of which is absolutely necessary for the writing
+of possible plays. I implored him to turn the thing into a good dramatic
+novel, and so make his mark at one blow. But no; the fatal fit was on
+him, and I saw that it must run its course. Already he could see and
+hear his audience laughing and crying, so he said, and I daresay he
+could also feel the crinkle of crisp weekly receipts. I only know that
+we sat up all night over it, arguing and smoking and drinking whisky
+until my windows overlooking the river caught the rising sun at an
+angle. Then I gave in. For poor old Pharazyn was more obstinate than
+ever, though he thanked me with the greatest good temper for my
+well-meant advice.</p>
+
+<p>"'And look here, my boy,' says he, as he puts on his hat, 'you shan't
+hear another word about this till the play's written; and you are to ask
+no questions. Is that a bargain? Very well, then. When I've finished
+it&mdash;down to the very last touches&mdash;<i>you</i> shall come and sit up all night
+with <i>me</i>, and I'll read you every word. And by gad, old chap, if they
+give me a call the first night, and want a speech&mdash;and I see you sitting
+in your stall, like a blessed old fool as you are&mdash;by gad, sir, I'll
+hold up you and your judgment to the ridicule of the house, so help me
+never!'</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 325px;">
+<img src="images/image243.jpg" width="325" height="500" alt="&quot;I COULD SMELL HIS PIPE THROUGH THE KEYHOLE.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;I COULD SMELL HIS PIPE THROUGH THE KEYHOLE.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Well, I am coming to that first night presently. Meanwhile, for the
+next six months, I saw very little of Pharazyn, and less still in the
+new year. He seldom came to my rooms now; when he did I could never get
+him to stay and sit up with me; and once when I climbed up to his garret
+(it was literally that), he would not answer me, though I could smell
+his pipe through the key-hole, in which he had turned the key. Yet he
+was perfectly friendly whenever we did meet. He said he was working very
+hard, and indeed I could imagine it; his personal appearance, which he
+had never cherished, being even untidier, and I am obliged to add
+seedier, than of old. He continued to send me odd magazines in which his
+stuff happened to appear, or occasionally a proof for one's opinion and
+suggestions; we had done this to each other all along; but either I did
+not think about it, or somehow he led me to suppose that his things were
+more or less hot from the pen, whereas many of mine had been written a
+twelvemonth before one saw them in type. One way or another, I gathered
+that he was at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> work in our common groove, and had shelved, for the
+present at all events, his proposed play, about which you will remember
+I had undertaken to ask no questions.</p>
+
+<p>"I was quite mistaken. One night in the following March he came to me
+with a haggard face, a beaming eye, and a stout, clean manuscript, which
+he brought down with a thud on my desk. It was the play he had sketched
+out to me eight or nine months before. I was horrified to hear he had
+been at work upon it alone from that night to this. He had written, so
+he said, during all this time, not another line, only each line of his
+play some ten times over.</p>
+
+<p>"I recollect looking curiously at his shabby clothes, and then reminding
+him that it was at his place, not mine, I was to have heard him read the
+play: and how he confessed that he had no chair for me there&mdash;that his
+room was, in fact, three parts dismantled&mdash;that he had sacrificed
+everything to the play, which was worth it. I was extremely angry. I
+could have helped him so easily, independent as I was of the calling I
+loved to follow. But there was about him always an accursed, unnecessary
+independence, which has since struck me&mdash;and I think I may say so after
+all these years&mdash;as the mark of a rather humble, very honest origin.</p>
+
+<p>"He read me the play, and I cried over the third act, and so did he. I
+thought then, and still think, that there was genius in that third
+act&mdash;it took you off your feet. And to me, certainly, it seemed as if
+the piece must act as well as it read, though indeed, as I took care to
+say and to repeat, my opinion was well-nigh valueless on that point. I
+only knew that I could see the thing playing itself, as I walked about
+the room (for this time I was the person who was too excited to sit
+still), and that was enough to make one sanguine. I became as
+enthusiastic about it as though the work were mine (which it never,
+never would or could have been), yet I was unable to suggest a single
+improvement, or to have so much as a finger-tip in the pie. Nor could I
+afterwards account for its invariable reception at the hands of
+managers, whose ways were then unknown to me. That night we talked only
+of one kind of reception. We were still talking when the sun came
+slanting up the river to my windows; you could hardly see them for
+tobacco-smoke, and we had emptied a bottle of whisky to the success of
+Pharazyn's immortal play.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 349px;">
+<img src="images/image244.jpg" width="349" height="450" alt="&quot;HIS MANUSCRIPT RAGGED BUT UNREAD.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;HIS MANUSCRIPT RAGGED BUT UNREAD.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Oh, those nights&mdash;those nights once in a way! God forgive me, but I'd
+sacrifice many things to be young again and feel clever, and to know the
+man who would sit up all night with me to rule the world over a bottle
+of honest grog. In the pale light of subsequent revelations I ought,
+perhaps, to recall such a night, with that particular companion,
+silently and in spiritual ashes. But it is ridiculous, in my opinion, to
+fit some sort of consequence to every little insulated act; nor will I
+ever admit that poor Pharazyn's ultimate failing was in any appreciable
+degree promoted or prepared for by those our youthful full-souled
+orgies. I know very well that afterwards, when his life was spent in
+waylaying those aforesaid managers, in cold passages, on stage
+doorsteps, or, in desperation, under the public portico on the street;
+and when a hundred snubs and subterfuges would culminate in the return
+of his manuscript, ragged but unread: I know, and I knew then, that the
+wreck who would dodge me in Fleet Street,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> or cut me in the Strand, had
+taken to his glass more seriously and more steadily than a man should.
+But I am not sure that it matters much&mdash;<i>much</i>, you understand me&mdash;when
+that man's heart is broken.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>"The last words I was ever to exchange with my poor old friend keep
+ringing in my head to this day, whenever I think of him; and I can
+repeat them every one. It was some few years after our intimacy had
+ceased, and when I only knew that he had degenerated into a Fleet Street
+loafer of the most dilapidated type, that I caught sight of him one day
+outside a theatre. It was the theatre which was for some years a
+gold-mine to one Morton Morrison, of whom you may never have heard; but
+he was a public pet in his day, I can tell you, and his day was just
+then at its high noon. Well, there stood Pharazyn, with his hands in his
+pockets and a cutty-pipe sticking out between his ragged beard and
+moustache, and his shoulders against the pit door, so that for once he
+could not escape me. But he wouldn't take a hand out of his pocket to
+shake mine; and when I asked him how he was, without thinking, he
+laughed in my face, and it made me feel cruel. He was dreadfully
+emaciated, and almost in rags. And as I wondered what I ought to do, and
+what to say next, he gave a cough, and spat upon the pavement, and I
+could see the blood.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 334px;">
+<img src="images/image245.jpg" width="334" height="500" alt="&quot;THERE STOOD PHARAZYN.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THERE STOOD PHARAZYN.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"I don't know what you would have done for him&mdash;but for all I knew what
+had brought him to this, I could think of nothing but a drink. It was
+mid-winter, and I tell you the man was in rags. I felt that if I could
+get him to a bar he might eat something, too, and that I should get a
+hold of him this time which I would never again let go. Judge of my
+surprise when he flatly refused to come with me even for a drink.</p>
+
+<p>"'Can't you see? he said in his hollow voice. 'There'll be a crowd here
+directly, and I want the best seat in the pit&mdash;the best in the house.
+I've been going dry for it these two days, and I'm going dry till I've
+seen the piece. No, I've been here an hour already, and there's three
+hours more, I know; but I'm not going to risk it, thanks all the same.'</p>
+
+<p>"By this I had remembered that Morton Morrison was to re-open that night
+with a new piece. Indeed, I ought not to have forgotten that, seeing
+that I had my order about me somewhere, and it meant a column from my
+pen between twelve and one that night. But this sudden, sorry meeting
+had put all other thoughts out of my head.</p>
+
+<p>"'My dear fellow,' I said, with a sort of laugh, 'are you a
+first-nighter, too?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Only at this theatre.'</p>
+
+<p>"He looked me queerly in the face.</p>
+
+<p>"'You admire Morrison very much?'</p>
+
+<p>"'I love him!'</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose my eyes thawed him, though God knows how hard I was trying
+not to hurt him with pitying looks. At all events he began to explain
+himself of his own accord, very impetuously; indeed I rather think the
+outburst was purely involuntary.</p>
+
+<p>"'Look here,' he said, with his hoarse voice lowered: 'I hoped never to
+see your face again. I hoped you'd never see mine. But now you are here,
+don't go this minute, and I'll tell you why I think so much of Morton
+Morrison. I don't know him, mind you&mdash;he doesn't know me from Adam&mdash;but
+once long ago I had something to do with him. And God bless him, but
+damn every other manager in London, for he was the only one of the lot
+that gave me a civil hearing and a kind word!'</p>
+
+<p>"I knew what he was talking about, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> he knew that I knew, for we had
+understood one another in the old days.</p>
+
+<p>"'I took it to him last of all,' he went on, wiping his damp lips with
+his hand. 'When I began hawking it about he was an unknown man; when his
+turn came he was here. He let me read it to him. Then he asked me to
+leave it with him for a week; and when I went back to him, he said what
+they had all said&mdash;that it would never act! But Morton Morrison said it
+nicely. And when he saw how it cut me up, into little bits, he got me to
+tell him all about everything; and then he persuaded me to burn the
+play, instead of ruining my life for it; and I burnt it in his
+dressing-room fire, but the ruin was too far gone to mend. I wrote that
+thing with my heart's blood&mdash;old man, you know I did! And none of them
+would think of it! My God! But Morrison was good about it&mdash;he's a good
+soul&mdash;and that's why you'll see me at every first night of his until the
+drink finishes its work.'</p>
+
+<p>"I had not followed him quite to the end. One thing had amazed me too
+much.</p>
+
+<p>"'You burnt your play,' I could only murmur, 'when it would have turned
+into such a novel! Surely you have some draft of it still?'</p>
+
+<p>"'I burnt the lot when I got home,' Pharazyn replied; 'and by-and-by I
+shall join 'em and burn too!'</p>
+
+<p>"I had nothing to answer to that, and was, besides, tenacious of my
+point. 'I don't think much of the kindness that makes one man persuade
+another to burn his work and throw up the sponge,' said I, with a good
+deal of indignation, for I did feel wroth with that fellow Morrison&mdash;a
+bread-and-butter drawing-room actor, whose very vogue used to irritate
+me.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image246.jpg" width="450" height="376" alt="&quot;WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THIS?&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THIS?&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"'Then what do you think of this?' asked Pharazyn, as he dipped a hand
+within his shabby coat, and cautiously unclenched it under my nose.</p>
+
+<p>"'Why, it's a five-pound note!'</p>
+
+<p>"'I know; but wasn't <i>that</i> kind, then?'</p>
+
+<p>"'So Morrison gave you this!' I exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Two or three persons had stopped to join us at the pit door, and
+Pharazyn hastily put the note back in his pocket. As he did so, his
+dreadfully shabby condition gave my heart a fresh cut.</p>
+
+<p>"'Are you never going to spend that?' I asked in a whisper; and in a
+whisper he answered:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"'Never! It is all my play has brought me&mdash;all. It was given me as a
+charity, but I took it as my earnings&mdash;my earnings for all the work and
+waiting, and blood and tears, that one thing cost me. Spend it? Not I!
+It will bury me as decently as I deserve.'</p>
+
+<p>"We could converse no more. And the presence of other people prevented
+me from giving him my overcoat, though I spoke of it into his ear,
+begging and imploring him to come away and take it while there was still
+time for him to clip back and get a seat in the front row. But he would
+not hear of it, and the way he refused reminded me of his old stubborn
+independence; all I got was a promise that he would have a bite with me
+after the performance. And so I left him in the frosty dusk, ill-clad
+and unkempt, with the new-lit lamp over the pit door shining down upon
+the haggard mask that had once been the eager, memorable face of my
+cleverest friend.</p>
+
+<p>"I saw him next the moment I entered the theatre that evening, and I
+nodded my head to him, which he rebuked with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> slightest shake of his
+own. So I looked no more at him before the play began, comprehending
+that he desired me not to do so. The temptation, however, was too strong
+to go on resisting, for while Pharazyn was in the very centre of the
+front row in the pit, I was at one end of the last row of the stalls;
+and I was very anxious about him, wanting to make sure that he was there
+and not going to escape me again, and nervous of having him out of my
+sight for five minutes together.</p>
+
+<p>"Thus I know more about the gradual change which came over Pharazyn's
+poor face, as scene followed scene, than of the developments and merits
+of those scenes themselves. My mind was in any case running more on my
+lost friend than on the piece; but it was not till near the end of the
+first act that the growing oddity of his look first struck me.</p>
+
+<p>"His eyebrows were raised; it was a look of incredulity chiefly; yet I
+could see nothing to impale for improbability in the play as far as it
+had gone. I was but lightly attending, for my own purposes, as you
+youngsters skim your betters for review; but thus far the situation
+struck me as at once feasible and promising. Also it seemed not a little
+familiar to me; I could not say why, for watching Pharazyn's face. And
+it was his face that told me at last, in the second act. By God, it was
+his own play!</p>
+
+<p>"It was Pharazyn's play, superficially altered all through, nowhere
+substantially; but the only play for me, when I knew that, was being
+acted in the front row of the pit, and not on the stage, to which I had
+turned the side of my head. I watched my old friend's face writhe and
+work until it stiffened in a savage calm; and watching, I thought of the
+'first night' he had pictured jovially in the old days, when the bare
+idea of the piece was bursting his soul; and thinking, I wondered
+whether it could add a drop to his bitterness to remember that too.</p>
+
+<p>"Yet, through all my thoughts, I was listening, intently enough, now.
+And in the third act I heard the very words my friend had written: they
+had not meddled with his lines in the great scene which had moved us
+both to tears long ago in my rooms. And this I swear to, whether you
+believe it or no&mdash;that at the crisis of that scene, which was just as
+Pharazyn made it, the calm ferocity transfiguring his face died away all
+at once, and I saw it shining with the sweetest tears our eyes can
+shed&mdash;the tears of an artist over his own work.</p>
+
+<p>"And when the act was over he sat with his head on his hand for some
+minutes, drinking in the applause, as I well knew; then he left his seat
+and squeezed out on my side of the house, and I made sure he was coming
+to speak to me over the barrier; and I got up to speak to him; but he
+would not see me, but stood against the barrier with a mien as white and
+set as chiselled marble.</p>
+
+<p>"What followed on the first fall of the curtain I shall relate as
+rapidly as it happened. Louder call for an author I never heard, and I
+turned my eyes to the stage in my intense curiosity to see who would
+come forward; for the piece had been brought out anonymously; and I
+divined that Morrison himself was about to father it. And so he did; but
+as the lie passed his lips, and in the interval before the applause&mdash;the
+tiny interval between flash and peal&mdash;the lie was given him in a roar of
+fury from my left; there fell a thud of feet at my side, and Pharazyn
+was over the barrier and bolting down the gangway towards the stage. I
+think he was near making a leap for the footlights and confronting
+Morrison on his own boards; but the orchestra came between, and the
+fiddlers rose in their places. Then he turned wildly to us pressmen, and
+I will say he had our ear, if not that of the whole house besides, for
+the few words he was allowed to utter.</p>
+
+<p>"'Gentlemen!' he cried at the top of his voice&mdash;'Gentlemen, I'm one of
+you! I'm a writing man like yourselves, and I wrote this play that
+you've seen. That man never wrote it at all&mdash;I wrote it myself! That man
+has only altered it. I read it to him two years ago&mdash;two years ago,
+gentlemen! He kept it for a week, and then got me to burn it as
+rubbish&mdash;when he had made a copy of it! And he gave me this,
+gentlemen&mdash;he gave me this that I give him back!'</p>
+
+<p>"It was a matter of only a few seconds, but not till my own last hour
+shall I forget Morrison's painted face on the stage, or that sweating
+white one beneath the boxes; or the fluttering from Pharazyn's poor
+fingers of the five-pound note he had treasured for two years; or the
+hush all over the house until the first hand was laid upon his dirty
+collar.</p>
+
+<p>"'What!' he screamed, 'do none of you believe me? Will none of you stand
+by me&mdash;isn't there a man&mdash;not one man among you&mdash;&mdash;'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"And they threw him out with my name on his lips. And I followed, and
+floored a brute who was handling him roughly. And nothing happened to
+me&mdash;because of what happened to Pharazyn!"</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>The dear old boy sat silent, his grey head on his hand. Presently he
+went on, more to himself than to me: "What could I do? What proof had I?
+He had burnt them every one. And as long as the public would stand him,
+Morrison kept his good name at least. And that play was his great
+success!"</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image248.jpg" width="450" height="399" alt="&quot;HE GAVE ME THIS.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;HE GAVE ME THIS.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>I ventured gently to inquire what had happened to Pharazyn.</p>
+
+<p>"He died in my arms," my old friend cried, throwing up his head with an
+oath and a tear. "He died in a few minutes, outside the theatre. I could
+hear them clapping after he was dead&mdash;clapping his piece."</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;">
+<img src="images/image249.jpg" width="700" height="967" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+<p><a name="Zig_Zags_at_the_Zoo_Conkavian" id="Zig_Zags_at_the_Zoo_Conkavian"></a></p>
+
+
+<p>If the gentle reader, full of a general desire for knowledge and a
+particular enthusiasm for natural history, will refer to any one of the
+great standard works on birds, and, turning to the index, seek for the
+family title of the Conkaves, I have every hope and confidence that he
+will not find it; because, as a matter of fact, it is a little invention
+of my own, and, I may modestly urge, rather a neat thing in scientific
+nomenclature, on the whole. It has the advantage of including in one
+family the storks and the pelicans, which in all orthodox books on birds
+are planted far apart and out of sight of each other, with many orders,
+tribes, and families between. Under my title they are gathered amicably
+together in the common possession of very long bills, like two tailors
+on a man's doorstep. The word is derived, in the proper and regular
+manner, from ancient sources; from <i>conk</i>, a venerable Eastern word,
+signifying a nose or beak, and the Latin <i>avis</i>, a bird.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> And I offer
+the term freely as my humble, but I trust useful, contribution to
+science; my first contribution.</p>
+
+<p>The stork is regarded, in many countries, with a certain
+semi-superstitious reverence and esteem. After many prolonged and
+serious attempts to saturate myself with a similar feeling, I regret to
+confess to a certain smallness of esteem for the stork. You can't esteem
+a bird that makes ugly digs at your feet and heels with such a very big
+beak. Out in their summer quarters the storks are kept in by close wire,
+and close wire will give an air of inoffensiveness to most things. But,
+away in a by-yard, with a gate marked "private," there stands a shed
+wherein the storks are kept warm in winter, behind wooden bars; and
+between these bars stork-heads have a way of dropping at the toes of the
+favoured passer-by, like to action of a row of roadmen's picks.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image250-1.jpg" width="450" height="407" alt="PICKS AND CHEWS." title="" />
+<span class="caption">PICKS AND CHEWS.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The stork has come off well in the matter of bodily endowment. The
+pelican has a tremendous beak&mdash;achieved, it would seem, by a skimping of
+material in the legs; but the stork has the tremendous beak and legs of
+surprising growth as well. His wings, too, are something more than
+respectable. At flying, at eating, at portentous solemnity of
+demeanour&mdash;in all these and in other things the pelican and the stork
+score fairly evenly; but at walking the pelican is left behind at once.
+This makes one suspect the stork's honesty. The pelican has a good beak
+and wings, and pays for them, like an honest bird, out of its legs, just
+as the ostrich pays for its neck and legs out of its wings. But the
+stork is abnormally lucky in beak, neck, legs, and wings together, and
+even then has material left to lay out in superfluous knobs and wens to
+hang round its neck, which leads to a suspicion that many of its
+personal fittings belong properly to some other bird. I've a notion that
+the unlucky kiwi might identify some of the property.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 435px;">
+<img src="images/image250-2.jpg" width="435" height="400" alt="THE PELICAN LEFT." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE PELICAN LEFT.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image250-3.jpg" width="500" height="252" alt="ARMY." title="" />
+<span class="caption">ARMY.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Perhaps the adjutant should be acknowledged king of the conkavians.
+Billy, the Zoo adjutant, has, I believe, no doubt on the subject at all.
+Billy is an ornament to the military profession&mdash;a very fine fellow,
+with a thing on the back of his neck like a Tangerine orange, and a wen
+on the front of it, which he can blow out whenever he wants to amuse
+himself, and everything else handsome about him. He is an old soldier,
+too, is Billy, having been Adjutant of the Regent's Park Conkavian Corps
+for seventeen years; but if you knew nothing of his age, still you would
+call Billy an old soldier&mdash;upon a little acquaintance with his habits.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/image251-3.jpg" width="350" height="283" alt="LAW." title="" />
+<span class="caption">LAW.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>There seems no valid reason why the professional aspirations of the
+stork should be restricted to the army. If an adjutant, why not a dean?
+Why not a proctor? There is the making of a most presentable don about a
+stork; and I have caught a stork in an attitude of judicial meditation
+that might do honour to any bench. There is no reason why "sober as a
+judge" should not be made to read "sober as a stork," except that the
+stork is the more solemn creature of the two; and I think that some
+species of stork&mdash;say the marabou, for instance&mdash;might fairly claim
+brevet rank as judge, after the example of the adjutant. The elevation
+of a beak to the bench might be considered an irregular piece of legal
+procedure; but, bless you, it's nothing unusual with a stork. Put any
+bench with something to eat on it anywhere within reach of a stork's
+beak in this place, and you shall witness that same elevation, precedent
+or no precedent.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 193px;">
+<img src="images/image251-1.jpg" width="193" height="350" alt="UNIVERSITIES." title="" />
+<span class="caption">UNIVERSITIES.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>A common white stork hasn't half the solid gravity of an adjutant or a
+marabou. He has a feline habit of expressing his displeasure by blowing
+and swearing&mdash;a habit bad and immoral in a cat, but worse in a stork
+accustomed to Church. Church, by-the-bye, is the keeper of all the
+conkavians, as well as of the herons, the flamingoes, the ibises, the
+egrets, and a number of other birds with names more difficult to spell.
+It is impossible to treat disrespectfully a man with such widespread
+responsibilities as this, or there might be a temptation to mention that
+he is not an unusually high Church, although his services are not always
+simple, often involving a matter of doctorin'. But, then, some people
+will say anything, temptation or none. And after all, it is pleasant to
+know that, whatever a stork or a pelican wants, he always goes to
+Church.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 277px;">
+<img src="images/image251-4.jpg" width="277" height="300" alt="SWEARING." title="" />
+<span class="caption">SWEARING.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 325px;">
+<img src="images/image251-2.jpg" width="325" height="370" alt="CHURCH." title="" />
+<span class="caption">CHURCH.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>This being the case, there is a proverb about cleanliness that makes one
+wonder why the marabou stork doesn't wash himself. It isn't as though he
+never wanted it. I have a horrible suspicion about this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> philosophic old
+sloven. I believe his profession of philosophic contemplation is
+assumed, because it is the easiest excuse for indolence. Now, a pelican
+is not a bird of graceful outline, but he <i>is</i> careful about his
+feathers. The pelican is a scrupulous old Dutchman, and the stork is an
+uncleanly old Hindu. And uncleanly he must be left, for it takes a deal
+to shame a stork. You can't shame a bird that wraps itself in a
+convenient philosophy. "Look here&mdash;look at me!" you can imagine a
+pelican cleanliness-missionary saying to the stork. "See how white and
+clean I keep all my feathers!" "Um," says the stork, "it only makes 'em
+a different colour." "But observe! I just comb through my pinions with
+my beak, so, and they all lie neat and straight!" "Well, and what's the
+good of that?" grunts the stork. "And then you see," says the pelican,
+ignoring the question, "with a good long beak you can reach everywhere,
+over your back and under your wings; see, I'm as clean under my wings as
+anywhere else, although it's covered up!" "Beastly vanity," growls the
+old Hindu, getting bored. "Then," continues the Dutchman, "you give
+yourself a good shake, and there you are!" "And then," says the
+philosopher sarcastically, "to-morrow, I suppose, you'll have to do it
+all over again?" "Of course!" "Oh! I hate a fool!" says the stork, and
+closes the lecture.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 549px;">
+<img src="images/image252.jpg" width="549" height="800" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Thus the marabou. The ordinary white stork is comparatively respectable,
+and so is the adjutant&mdash;or comparatively almost respectable, let us say;
+you can't be too cautious in giving a personal character to a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> stork.
+For long, long, the stork has enjoyed a reputation for solemn wisdom,
+for philosophical dignity. Now for the first time I venture to question
+this reputation&mdash;to impeach the stork as a humbug. It is easy to achieve
+a reputation for profound and ponderous wisdom, so long as one looks
+very solemn and says nothing. This is the stork's recipe. Go up to Billy
+here, or one of the marabous, as he stands with his shoulders humped up
+about his head, and make a joke. He won't see it. He will lift his
+eyebrows with a certain look of contempt, and continue to
+cogitate&mdash;about nothing. If the joke is a very bad pun&mdash;such a frightful
+pun that even a stork will see and resent it&mdash;perhaps he will chatter
+his beak savagely, with a noise like the clatter of the lid on an empty
+cigar-box; but he will continue his sham meditations. "Ah, my friend,"
+he seems to say, "you are empty and frivolous&mdash;I cogitate the profounder
+immensities of esoteric cogibundity." The fact being that he is very
+seedy after his previous night's dissipation.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 172px;">
+<img src="images/image253-1.jpg" width="172" height="400" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>That is the chief secret of the stork's solemnity, I am convinced. He
+has a certain reputation to maintain before visitors, but after hours,
+when the gates are shut and the keepers are not there to see, the
+marabou stork is a sad dog. I haven't quite made up my mind what he
+drinks, but if he has brandies and sodas he leaves out too much soda.
+Look at that awful nose! It is long past the crimson and pimply
+stage&mdash;it is taking a decided tinge of blue. It <i>looks</i> worse than
+brandy and soda&mdash;almost like bad gin&mdash;but we will be as charitable as
+possible, and only call it brandy and soda.</p>
+
+<p>I should like to see the marabou stork on his nightly ran-tan, if only
+to gloat over his lapse of dignity, just as one would give much to see
+Benjamin Franklin with his face blacked, drunk and disorderly and being
+locked up. But, as a shocking example, the marabou is quite bad enough
+with his awful head in the morning; his awful head and his disreputable
+nose, that looks to want a good scraping. I respect Billy, the adjutant,
+for his long service and the Tangerine at the back of his neck. The
+ordinary stork (although he swears and snaps) I also respect, because
+the goody books used to tell pious lies about him. The whale-headed
+stork, which is also called the shoe-bird, I respect as a sort of
+relative of the shoo-fly that didn't bother somebody. But the marabou
+has forfeited all respect&mdash;converted it into nose-tint. I must talk to
+Church seriously about the marabou.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 404px;">
+<img src="images/image253-2.jpg" width="404" height="450" alt="THE RAN-TAN." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE RAN-TAN.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Now, the pelican is no humbug. There is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> nothing like concealment about
+his little dissipations; and he is perfectly sober. Any little
+irregularity at the pelican club just opposite the eastern aviary never
+goes beyond a quiet round or two for a little fish dinner. It is quite a
+select and a most proper club. Indeed, the first rule is, that if any
+loose fish be found on the club premises, he is got rid of at once by
+the first member who detects him. And the club spirit is such that
+disputes frequently occur among members for the honour of carrying out
+this salutary rule. The chairman of the club is an old crested pelican,
+who, by some oversight, has never been provided with a private name of
+his own. I think he should be called Peter, because he can take such a
+miraculous draught of fishes. It <i>is</i> a draught; you know&mdash;a pelican
+doesn't eat fishes&mdash;he drinks them down in bulk. For Peter, a dozen or
+so fresh herrings is a mere swill round of the mouth.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image254-1.jpg" width="450" height="219" alt="A QUIET ROUND OR TWO." title="" />
+<span class="caption">A QUIET ROUND OR TWO.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Peter walks about the club premises with much dignity, deferred to on
+all sides by the other members. His kingship is rarely disputed, having
+been achieved by the sort of conquest most familiar in the pelican club;
+and his divine right is as much respected as his tremendous left.</p>
+
+<p>A pelican never bears malice; he hasn't time, especially now, with
+competition so keen in the fish business, and Church's fish pails only
+of the ordinary size. There is never any ill-feeling after a little
+spar, and each proceeds, in the most amicable way, to steal some other
+pelican's fish. A spar at this club, by-the-bye, is a joyous and
+hilarious sight. Two big birds with stumpy legs and top-heavy beaks,
+solemnly prancing and man&oelig;uvring before one another with an
+accompaniment of valiant gobbles and a punctuation of occasional
+pecks&mdash;a gleesome spectacle.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 335px;">
+<img src="images/image254-2.jpg" width="335" height="300" alt="PETER." title="" />
+<span class="caption">PETER.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 426px;">
+<img src="images/image254-3.jpg" width="426" height="300" alt="A SWILL ROUND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">A SWILL ROUND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Another sport much exhibited at the pelican club is that of
+the broadsword. The school of fence is that of Mr. Vincent
+Crummies&mdash;one&mdash;two&mdash;three&mdash;four&mdash;over; one&mdash;two&mdash;three&mdash;four&mdash;under.
+You<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> see, when a dozen or two birds with beaks a couple of feet long or
+so get together in a small area, and now and again rush all in the same
+direction for fish, fencing is certain to develop, sooner or later. So
+here you have it, <i>secundum artem</i>&mdash;one&mdash;two&mdash;three&mdash;four&mdash;over;
+one&mdash;two&mdash;three&mdash;four&mdash;under; and although none have yet attained the
+Crummleian degree of knocking out sparks, there is a deal of hollow
+noise, as of thumping on a wooden box. But there is never any
+after-malice, and in less than five minutes either combatant will
+swallow a fish rightfully belonging to the other, with perfect
+affability.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/image255-1.jpg" width="350" height="252" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image255-2.jpg" width="450" height="244" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 236px;">
+<img src="images/image255-3.jpg" width="236" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 357px;">
+<img src="images/image255-4.jpg" width="357" height="350" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>There is a good deal of the philosopher about the pelican, and of a more
+genuine sort than characterizes the stork. The pelican always makes the
+best of a bad job, without going into an unnecessary tantrum over it. If
+another member of the club snatches a fish first, the pelican doesn't
+bother, but devotes his attention to the next that Church throws; a fish
+in the pouch is worth a shoal in somebody else's. Now and again Peter
+loses his temper for a moment if the others catch the first snack, and
+lays about him with his bill&mdash;but then, when a fellow's chairman, and a
+lot of other fellows come snatching the lunch from under his nose&mdash;why,
+hang it all, you know.... But it is only for a moment, and Peter is soon
+in position for the next pouchful. He is artful about this position.
+When Church appears at the rails with a pailful of fish most of the
+members rush to those rails, jostle together and shove their beaks
+through them and over them&mdash;any way to get nearer the pail. But the
+chairman<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> knows very well that Church doesn't throw the fish outside the
+rails, but into the inclosure, somewhere near the middle; and near the
+middle the sagacious Peter waits, to his early profit&mdash;unless Church is
+unusually slow about throwing the fish, in which case Peter is apt to
+let his excitement steal his sagacity, and to rush into the pell-mell,
+anxious to investigate the delay.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 341px;">
+<img src="images/image256-1.jpg" width="341" height="350" alt="A LITTLE SOLEING AND HEELING." title="" />
+<span class="caption">A LITTLE SOLEING AND HEELING.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>There is a deal of excellent wear in a pelican. One has been here about
+thirty years, and two more have been established on the same premises
+for a quarter of a century. All these three are in capital working
+repair and will probably last, with a patch or two, and a little soleing
+and heeling, for a century or two more; no respectable pelican is ever
+bowled out for less than three figures.</p>
+
+<p>In the winter the club takes up its quarters in the shed behind the
+inclosure; a shed sumptuously furnished with certain benches and forms,
+whereon the club stands in rows, with a general appearance of a number
+of very solemn naughty boys in a Board school. In winter, too, Church
+will often put his bucketful of fish on the ground, so that the club may
+dine in a clubbier way. But whether you watch this club feeding together
+from the pail, each member doing his best to put away the whole pailful
+at a gulp, or whether you observe them playing a sort of greedy game of
+lacrosse with fish which Church throws them, you will be equally amazed
+that the pelican was used as a symbol of charity and brotherly love in
+early and middle Christian art.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/image256-2.jpg" width="400" height="240" alt="SCHOOL." title="" />
+<span class="caption">SCHOOL.</span>
+</div><p><br /><br /></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/image256-3.jpg" width="400" height="212" alt="CLUB DINNER." title="" />
+<span class="caption">CLUB DINNER.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>I have seen a pelican enact a most instructive moral lesson at a
+pail-dinner. Observe the bill and pouch of a pelican. The pouch is an
+elastic fishing-net, and the lower mandible is a mere flexible frame to
+carry it. Now, I have observed a pelican to make a bounce at the
+fish-pail, with outspread wings, and scoop the whole supply. But then
+his trouble began. The whole catch hung weightily low in the end of the
+pouch, and jerk and heave as he might, he could never lift the load at
+the end of that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> long beak sufficiently high to bolt it. Meanwhile, his
+friends collected about him and remonstrated, with many flops and
+gobbles, betting him all his fish to nothing that he would lose it after
+all; this way they chased that bag, and that way, while the bagger, in
+much trepidation and with many desperate heaves, wildly sought remote
+corners away from his persecutors. Now, by the corner of the club
+premises stands an appliance, the emblem of authority, the instrument of
+justice, and the terror of the evilly-disposed pelican&mdash;a birch-broom.
+This, brandished in the hands of Church, caused a sudden and awful
+collapse of the drag-nets, an opening, a shower of fish and many snaps;
+wherefrom walked away many pelicans with fish, and one with none, who
+had looked to take all. The moral is plain to the verge of ugliness.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/image257-1.jpg" width="250" height="233" alt="." title="" />
+<span class="caption">.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 321px;">
+<img src="images/image257-1a.jpg" width="321" height="300" alt="." title="" />
+<span class="caption">.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 358px;">
+<img src="images/image257-2.jpg" width="358" height="200" alt="." title="" />
+<span class="caption">.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image257-3.jpg" width="450" height="361" alt="." title="" />
+<span class="caption">.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>A pelican has no tongue&mdash;or none to speak of. It is a mere little knob
+scarcely the size of a cherry. The long, long meditations of the pelican
+(lasting between feeding times) are given up to consideration whether or
+not the disgrace of this deficiency is counter-balanced by the greater
+capacity for fish which it gives the pouch. After all, it is only
+another instance of that commercial honesty which makes the pelican pay
+for his beak out of his legs; he gives his tongue for a pouch. There
+should be a legend of the pelican applying honestly to Adam to buy a
+pouch, and the wily stork waiting and waiting on the chance of snatching
+one without paying for it, until all had been served out; afterwards
+living all its life<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> on earth in covetous dudgeon, unconsoled by its
+wealth of beak, legs, wings, and neck, and pining hopelessly for the
+lost pouch. There are many legends of this sort which ought to exist,
+but don't, owing to the negligence of Indian solar myth merchants, or
+whoever it is has charge of that class of misrepresentation.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image258-1.jpg" width="500" height="116" alt="." title="" />
+<span class="caption">.</span>
+</div>
+<div class="figright" style="width: 210px;">
+<img src="images/image258-2.jpg" width="210" height="600" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+<p>The pelican can fly, although you would never believe it, to look at the
+club members here. To a Zoo pelican a flight of two feet is an
+undertaking to be approached with much circumspection and preparation,
+and a summoning of resolution and screwing of courage proper to the
+magnitude of the feat. It takes a long time to learn to fly on to a
+bottom-up bucket. The Zoo pelican begins on a shadow&mdash;not a very dark
+one at first&mdash;and works his way up by jumping over, darker shadows to
+straws and pebbles, before he tries a bucket. The accomplished
+bucket-jumper makes a long preliminary survey and circumnavigation of
+his bucket before performing, and when he does begin it is with a number
+of wild rushes and irresolute stops. When at last he gets the proper
+length of run, and the right foot in front, and doesn't see anything to
+baulk him, he rises with a great effort, and all the lookers-on who
+don't know him stare up over the trees, and are astonished to find him,
+after all, only on the bucket. His pinions are cut, poor fellow! If they
+were not, what would become of the fishmongers' shops?</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Shafts_from_an_Eastern_Quiver" id="Shafts_from_an_Eastern_Quiver"></a><i>Shafts from an Eastern Quiver</i>.</h2>
+
+<h3>IX.&mdash;MAW-SAYAH: THE KEEPER OF THE GREAT BURMAN NAT.</h3>
+
+<h3>By Charles J. Mansford, B.A.</h3>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+<p>"The fine points of an elephant, sahib," said our guide Hassan, "are a
+colour approaching to white, the nails perfectly black, and an intact
+tail."</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad to hear that an elephant has some qualities which recommend
+it," said Denviers, good-humouredly. "I should think that the one upon
+which we are riding is about as lazy as it is possible to be. I suppose
+slowness is an unusually good point, isn't it, Hassan?" The Arab, who
+was sitting before us on the elephant, gave it a stir with the
+sharply-pointed spear which he held in his hand to urge it on, and then
+glancing back at us, as we reclined lazily in the cushioned howdah, he
+said inquiringly: "Are the sahibs tired already of travelling thus? Yet
+we have fully two hours' journey before us."</p>
+
+<p>"Hassan," I interposed, "this is a good opportunity for you to tell us
+exactly what you heard about that Maw-Sayah when we were at Bhamo. It is
+in consequence of that, indeed, that we are going to try to get among
+these strange Kachyens; but as we are not quite sure of the details, you
+may as well repeat them."</p>
+
+<p>"The sahib shall be obeyed," responded our guide, and although careful
+to keep a good watch in front, he turned his body slightly towards us as
+he prepared to begin the narrative.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 372px;">
+<img src="images/image259.jpg" width="372" height="450" alt="&quot;THE SAHIB SHALL BE OBEYED.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THE SAHIB SHALL BE OBEYED.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>On reaching Burmah we stayed for several days in Rangoon, the Queen of
+the East as it is called nowadays, although only remarkable formerly for
+its famous monasteries of Talapoins and as a halting-place for the bands
+of pilgrims on their way to the mighty Shway Dagohn pagoda. Thence we
+journeyed up the Irawaddy, and having duly paid reverence to some of the
+nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine pagodas of Pagan&mdash;the outcast
+slaves of which city seemed a strange contrast to its otherwise absolute
+desertion&mdash;we continued our journey by steamer as far as Mandalay.
+Having endured the doubtful pleasure of a jaunt in a seatless, jolting
+bullock-carriage&mdash;the bruises from which were not easily forgotten&mdash;we
+eventually reached Bhamo, where Hassan entered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> into conversation with a
+hill-man. From the latter he learnt a strange story, which was later on
+told to us and the truth of which we hoped before long to fully test,
+for soon afterwards we set out on an elephant, our faithful guide in
+this new adventure again proving himself of the greatest service.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Hassan," said Denviers, "we are quite ready to hear this story
+fully, but don't add any imaginary details of your own."</p>
+
+<p>"By the Koran, sahib," began the Arab, "these are the words which were
+those of him to whom I spoke under the shade of the log stockade."</p>
+
+<p>"Which are, of course, unimpeachable," responded Denviers. "Anyone could
+tell that from his shifty eyes, which failed to rest upon us fixed even
+for a minute when we spoke to him afterwards." The Arab seemed a little
+disconcerted at this, but soon continued:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"The great Spirits or Nats, who guard the prosperity of Burmah, have
+become greatly incensed with the Kachyens, not because they failed to
+resist stoutly when the monarch was deposed a few years ago&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Then we are to have a modern story, this time, Hassan?" interrupted
+Denviers. "I quite expected that you would commence with some long
+worn-out tradition."</p>
+
+<p>"The sahibs shall hear," the Arab went on. "No one who offends the Nats
+of Burmah need expect anything but evil to follow. There are the Nats of
+the sky, the Nats of the earth, the Nats of the Irawaddy, the Nats of
+the five hundred little rivers, and the thousand Nats which guarded the
+sacred person of the monarch&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Hassan," said Denviers, impatiently, "you mentioned them all
+before. We haven't time to hear the list enumerated now; go on about
+this one particular Nat which you say is causing such havoc among the
+hill-tribes."</p>
+
+<p>"Patience, sahib. The Nats were justly roused to anger because the
+deposed monarch was not afterwards taken to the water's edge riding upon
+an elephant instead of in a bullock-carriage."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Hassan," said Denviers, "judging from our own experience the Nats
+seem to be pretty sensible, I must say&mdash;but how do they affect the peace
+of mind of the Kachyens?"</p>
+
+<p>"Listen, sahib. High among the hills which may be seen stretching before
+us lies a village in which many of the Kachyens dwell, their occupation
+being sometimes that of tillers of the land, but more often consisting
+in planning and carrying out raids upon other hill-men, or of descending
+at times to the plains, and there looting the towns wherein dwell more
+peaceable tribes. In all their forays they had been successful, for
+whenever their trusty dahs or swords were drawn, those who opposed them
+invariably obtained the worst of the encounter. So powerful did they
+become that at last those dwelling in the plains&mdash;Shans, Karenns, and
+Talaings, too&mdash;made no resistance against their attacks; and when they
+saw the produce of their fields carried away, thought themselves happy
+not to have been slain. The reason why the Kachyens became so successful
+in all they undertook was that a powerful forest Nat placed them under
+its protection, and hence they could not be harmed by their foes.</p>
+
+<p>"Now it chanced that the King was in great danger through following the
+advice of his impetuous ministers, whereupon he summoned the Kachyens to
+his assistance&mdash;for their fame as warriors had reached his ears long
+before. But they, confident of securing their own safety whatever
+happened to the monarch, refused to obey his command to march against
+the Burman foes. The consequence was that when the indignity which I
+have mentioned was offered to the deposed monarch, the Nats throughout
+Burmah were furious with that one who ruled the village in which the
+Kachyens dwelt, and they sent some of their number to destroy it. The
+latter, however, appeased them by making a grim promise, which has been
+only too faithfully kept.</p>
+
+<p>"A few days afterwards a hill-man, who was clearing a part of the land
+on the woody slope of the height, <i>saw the Nat</i>, which had never before
+been visible, and, terrified at the strange form which it had assumed,
+he ran hastily to the rest of the tribe, and, gathering them together,
+held a consultation as to what should be done to appease it. Some
+suggested that upon every tree trunk should be scratched appealing
+messages, which the Nat might read; others were in favour of placing a
+huge heap of spears and swords near the spot where the embodied Nat had
+been seen in order that it might be tempted to destroy all those who
+urged it to injure them. The messages and weapons, however, when placed
+for the Nat to observe did no good, for one dreadful night a rattling
+was heard of the bamboos, which lay before one of the Kachyen's huts,
+and the man, going hastily to see what caused it, was swiftly carried
+away in the darkness without apparently uttering a single cry! For many
+nights in succession a similar scene was enacted, for he at whose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> door
+the dire summons came dared not refuse to answer it lest the whole
+household might perish.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing more was ever seen of those thus strangely carried off, and the
+Kachyens, each of whom feared that his own end might come next,
+determined to consult some famous Buddhist priests who dwelt not far
+from them, and who held charge over the famous marble slabs which the
+great War Prince of Burmah had caused to be engraved concerning their
+illustrious traditions. The man whom ye saw me conversing with by the
+stockade was the one whom the tribe intrusted with the task; but the
+priests, after much consideration among themselves of the object of his
+visit, refused to have anything to do with such a tragic affair, and
+thereupon dismissed their suppliant.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 412px;">
+<img src="images/image261.jpg" width="412" height="400" alt="&quot;THE BUDDHIST PRIESTS.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THE BUDDHIST PRIESTS.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"This Kachyen, when sorrowfully returning towards the hills, fearing
+that the tribe would destroy him because of his non-success, chanced to
+meet on his way a Mogul, to whom he repeated the story. The latter,
+laying his hand on his red-dyed and fierce-looking beard, advised the
+Kachyen to enter a hole in the mountain side and to consult a famous
+Maw-Sayah, or juggler, who dwelt there. This juggler promised assistance
+if the tribe would pay him a great reward in the event of his success,
+and when they agreed to this he entered the village and waited for dusk
+to arrive. Again the dreadful rattling was heard, and another Kachyen
+stepped out to meet his fate. None of the tribe dared to look at what
+transpired, except the juggler, and he too disappeared! The next
+morning, however, he came into the village and called its inhabitants
+together. When they had solemnly agreed to his conditions, he stated
+that the Nat was bent upon destroying them all, and that to attempt to
+escape by means of flight would only lead to quicker death. Then he told
+them what the result of his intercession for them had been.</p>
+
+<p>"The Nat had been persuaded to destroy only one victim on each seventh
+evening at dusk, and had appointed him to see that certain conditions
+were not broken. He was to have a hut at his disposal, and into this the
+men were to go by lot, and thus the Nat would obtain a victim when the
+time came round. They were forbidden to wander about after sunset, and
+whatever noises were made not to hearken to them, since the Maw-Sayah
+would see that the others were unharmed. So long had this dreadful
+destruction lasted that more than one-half of the men in the Kachyen
+village, or town, as it might well be called from the large number who
+inhabited it, had perished, and yet the Nat still demanded a victim, and
+the Maw-Sayah is there to see that the compact is fulfilled. The man who
+told this story, sahibs, declares that the keeper of the Nat has by this
+means obtained sway over the Kachyens to such an extent that they have
+become his abject slaves, for the custom of drawing lots has been
+abolished, and he selects whom he will to sacrifice to the Nat. By some
+means this Kachyen offended the Maw-Sayah, who thereupon condemned him,
+but he, in terror of the sudden and silent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> death in store for him, fled
+to Bhamo, where he lives in momentary fear of destruction. Such then,
+sahibs, is the story, and it is to see this Maw-Sayah and the Nat at
+their fell work to-night that even now our faces are turned to the high
+land before us, up which we must climb, for there is but one narrow
+pathway leading to the village."</p>
+
+<p>Hassan ceased, and then Denviers turned to me as he said:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I think that this Maw-Sayah, as Hassan calls him, has about as much
+faith in Nats as we have. It suits his purpose to league himself with
+something mysterious; whatever it is we will try to find out," and he
+glanced at the weapons which we carried.</p>
+
+
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+<p>"The sahibs must dismount here", said Hassan shortly afterwards, and
+following to the ground our guide, we began to climb the mountain path
+which stretched before us. The ascent was exceedingly steep, and several
+times we stopped to rest after pushing our way through the tangled
+masses which almost hid the path, which was itself cut here and there
+apparently through the rocky strata. When we had reached about
+three-fourths of our journey Hassan stopped and pointed out to us one of
+the thatched roofs of a hut, which seemed in the distance scarcely
+noticeable until his keen eyesight discovered it. The village, we found,
+lay a little to the left of the mountain path, for on nearing the summit
+we found ourselves passing through a peculiar avenue of trees
+interspersed with long bamboo poles. From the tops of the latter there
+were stretched across the approach strong, rough-looking cords, which
+supported various uncouth emblems, and among which were large triangles,
+circles, and stars, cut apparently out of the stems of huge bamboos.
+After traversing this avenue for nearly three hundred yards we saw the
+tree trunks which Hassan had mentioned, and which were deeply scarred
+with cabalistic messages to the fierce Nat, which we could not of course
+understand. Affixed to some of the trees farther on we saw a number of
+spears and dahs mingled with shorter weapons, the latter being made of
+some species of hard wood, and close to them we observed the skulls of
+several large animals, one of which we judged was that of an elephant.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 298px;">
+<img src="images/image262.jpg" width="298" height="450" alt="&quot;THE AVENUE.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THE AVENUE.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>In spite of the fact that the village was a large one, the buildings
+were of a very primitive construction, being made of bamboos with
+thatched coverings, reaching almost to the piles on which the huts were
+placed. We did not observe any openings made to serve as windows, the
+only ones noticeable being those by which the Kachyens entered, placed
+above a bamboo ladder, which seemed to, serve instead of steps. Although
+the sun had scarcely set, the village was wrapped in a strange silence,
+the sound of our footsteps alone being heard. The smoke that seemed to
+be forcing its way through stray holes in the thatch amply convinced us,
+however, that the inhabitants were within doors, and, turning to our
+Arab guide, I asked him if he could distinguish among the many huts the
+one in which we expected to find the Maw-Sayah. He seemed a little
+uncertain at first, but after wandering through the village together we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span>
+returned, and then Hassan, who had been very observant the whole time,
+pointed to one of the rudely-constructed huts and said:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I think that is the one into which we seek to enter; it is situated
+according to the position in which the Kachyen said it was, and,
+besides, it bears a strange proof of the story which ye have listened to
+with such ill-concealed disbelief."</p>
+
+<p>"Why do you think that is the hut, Hassan?" I asked, for, to my eyes, no
+difference between that and the others close to it was distinguishable.</p>
+
+<p>"If the sahib will look at the bamboo ladder and observe it carefully,
+he will see that it is unlike the others round," said the Arab.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you refer to these deep scratches upon it, don't you,
+Hassan?" asked Denviers, as he pointed to some marks, a few of which
+were apparently fairly recent.</p>
+
+<p>"The sahib guesses rightly," answered our guide. "You will remember that
+the Kachyen stated to me that the Nat is accustomed to obtain its victim
+now from the abode of the Maw-Sayah; those marks, then, have been made
+by it when it dragged its human prey out of the hut." We gazed curiously
+at the marks for a few minutes, then Denviers broke the silence by
+asking the Arab why it was that the Nat made marks at all.</p>
+
+<p>"I should have thought that such a powerful spirit could prevent such
+evidences of its presence becoming observed," he continued. "My respect
+for it is certainly not increased by seeing those deep scars; they seem
+to be made by something which has sharp claws."</p>
+
+<p>"That is because of the shape which it has assumed, sahib," said the
+Arab, "for the Nats have wondrous powers&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Very likely, Hassan," interposed Denviers; "I suppose they can do
+exactly what they like, can they not?" I was much surprised at the limit
+which was, however, placed upon their powers by our guide, for he
+responded quickly:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Not altogether, sahib. There is one thing that a Nat cannot do,
+according to the reports of these Kachyens, and that is, they are unable
+to move in a direction which is not straight, and hence they are careful
+to avoid rough ground, where tangled masses and boulders bar their
+progress, so they usually frequent the open avenues, such as the one
+which we have just passed through. The symbols above it and the writings
+and weapons are all for the Nat's benefit."</p>
+
+<p>"And the elephant's skull?" asked Denviers, irreverently. "What is that
+put up for?" The Arab, however, had an explanation ready, for he
+promptly replied:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"That indicates where the supplies of food are to be found when the Nat
+requires any." Denviers turned to me for a moment as he said:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I should have thought it a good plan, then, to have put it upon the hut
+of this Maw-Sayah whom we are about to interview. See that your weapons
+are in good order, Harold, we may soon need them." Giving a cautious
+look at my belt and the weapons thrust into it, I followed Denviers, who
+had mounted the short bamboo ladder, and was endeavouring to obtain
+admission to the hut. We heard a harsh sound within, then the cry of
+someone apparently terror-stricken, and a moment afterwards we had
+pushed past the Maw-Sayah, who by no means was willing to allow us to
+enter the rude dwelling.</p>
+
+<p>The single room, which seemed to constitute the hut, was extremely low
+and bare of furniture entirely. A few bamboos were spread in one part of
+it, while at the far end was a fire, the light from which was partly
+obscured by the smoke, which almost suffocated us, so thickly did it
+roll up and then spread through the hut. Near the door stood a man
+scarcely clothed, upon whose face we saw a look of the most abject
+terror, for, as we surmised, the noise of our entry was mistaken by him
+for the approach of the fell thing to which he was condemned by the
+Maw-Sayah. We moved towards the latter as he threw himself down by the
+fire, which he had only left to see who it was that came unbidden to the
+hut where to enter was the preceding event to death. He was clothed in a
+long blue strip of linen, which wound round his waist and covered his
+body, partly leaving his dark chest uncovered. His features were stamped
+with an appearance of supreme cunning, his oblique eyes reminding us of
+a Chinaman, while the fierce look in them as they glared at us from
+either side of an aquiline nose, which betrayed his Burmese descent, did
+not increase our confidence in the man as he stretched out his bony
+hands over the fire as if for warmth, although outside the hut we had
+found the heat almost insupportable.</p>
+
+<p>"What do ye seek?" he demanded, as he looked into our faces in turn and
+seemed astonished at our strange features.</p>
+
+<p>"We are travellers who wished to see a Kachyen village," responded
+Denviers, "and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> we further desired to see some of its inhabitants; but
+as none were visible we entered this hut, even against your will. Where
+are the people who dwell here?" The man whom my companion addressed
+pointed to the Kachyen near the doorway, as he responded:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"There is one of them, and in a short time even he will never be seen
+again."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image264.jpg" width="450" height="371" alt="&quot;WHAT DO YE SEEK?&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;WHAT DO YE SEEK?&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Can you give us food?" hazarded Hassan, in order to get the man to
+continue his conversation, for the Arab evidently was expecting that the
+Nat would soon arrive upon the scene. The Maw-Sayah rose and pointed to
+the entrance as he cried:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"That way ye came, that way shall ye depart. Food for ye I have not, nor
+would I give it if I had." I turned to Denviers and said in a low
+tone:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"What shall we do, Frank? I don't think our opportunity of seeing what
+may transpire will be as good within the hut as without it. Whatever the
+solution is to this affair, if we are outside we shall see this Kachyen
+dragged away, and may further watch the approach of whatever caused
+those strange marks which we observed."</p>
+
+<p>"One thing is clear," said my companion, "we will attempt to save this
+intended victim, at all events. I expect that if we tried we could get
+him away easily enough, but that plan would not be of much service. We
+must attack this being, whatever it is, with which this Maw-Sayah is
+leagued. How I should like to hand him over as a victim instead of that
+trembling captive by the door. It shows to what extent this juggler has
+acquired power over this tribe, for I notice that his captive is
+unbound, and is certainly a much finer built man than the other."</p>
+
+<p>"It wants less than an hour to dusk, sahibs," said Hassan, who had
+listened carefully to our remarks; "if we were to station ourselves a
+little away from the hut we could see what took place, and if the Nat
+were mortal we might attack it."</p>
+
+<p>Denviers shrugged his shoulders at the Arab's supposition as he
+responded:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"There is little doubt, Hassan, that the Nat would smart if that keen
+blade of yours went a little too near it, but I think your plan is a
+good one, and we will adopt it, as it falls in with what has already
+been said." We gave a final look at the crafty face of the man who was
+still seated by the fire, and then brushing past the captive we made for
+the open village again.</p>
+
+<p>"I feel sorry for this Kachyen," said Denviers. "He will have a dreadful
+five minutes of it, I expect; but it is our only way of preventing, if
+possible, such an affair from occurring again." On leaving the hut we
+stationed ourselves almost opposite to it, and then began to keep watch.
+What we should see pass up the avenue we could only surmise, but our
+suppositions certainly did not lead us to imagine in the faintest degree
+the sight which before long was destined to completely startle us.</p>
+
+
+<h4>III.</h4>
+
+<p>The grey dusk was becoming night when among the dark stems of the trees
+we saw some black form move over the ground. We could scarcely
+distinguish it as it crawled over the bamboo logs and made a rasping<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span>
+noise as it clung to the ladder. The door of the hut yielded to it, and
+a minute after it again emerged and bore with it the terrified Kachyen.
+We crept after it as it dragged its captive down the avenue, striving
+our utmost to make out its shape. One thing we could tell, which was
+that the creature was not upright; but our movement behind it was
+apparently known, for it struggled to move quicker over the ground with
+its human burden.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 371px;">
+<img src="images/image265.jpg" width="371" height="450" alt="&quot;IT AGAIN EMERGED.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;IT AGAIN EMERGED.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Shall I shoot it?" I whispered to Denviers, as my nerves seemed to be
+almost unstrung at the unknowableness of the creeping thing.</p>
+
+<p>"You would more likely kill the man," he responded. "Follow as
+noiselessly as you can&mdash;it will not let its prey escape, be sure of
+that. Once we track it to its haunt we will soon dispatch it, big and
+fierce as it seems."</p>
+
+<p>We drew nearer and nearer to it, until it had passed half-way down the
+avenue, then it seemed to become lost to our view, although we were, as
+we knew, close to it. I felt Denviers' hand upon my shoulder, and then
+he whispered:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"The Kachyen is being dragged up a tree just in front&mdash;look!" I could
+just distinguish something moving up the trunk, when suddenly the
+captive, who had hitherto been apparently paralyzed with terror, uttered
+a cry and then must have succeeded in disengaging himself from the
+dreadful thing that had held him, for the noise of someone falling to
+the ground was heard, and a minute after we distinguished the form of a
+man rushing headlong back to the village for safety.</p>
+
+<p>We did not anticipate such an event, and were contemplating a search for
+the captor of the Kachyen, when a cold sweat broke out upon me, for the
+clammy claws of the man-hunter had touched me! The sensation which
+seized me was only of short duration, for I felt myself released just as
+Denviers said:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Harold, the Kachyen has fled, and his captor, determined to secure its
+prey, has betaken its crawling body after him. If only we had a light! I
+saw something like a black shadow moving onwards; get your pistol ready
+and follow." I just distinguished Denviers as he passed on in front of
+me, Hassan coming last. When we reached the hut of the Maw-Sayah we
+stopped at once, for, from the cry which came from it, we rightly
+surmised that the terrible seeker for human prey had made for this
+place, thinking, in its dull intelligence, that its captive had
+returned. We thrust ourselves into the hut, and saw by the red firelight
+a sanguinary contest between the Maw-Sayah and the black object which we
+had endeavoured to track. Thinking that the Kachyen was being destroyed,
+the juggler had not fastened his door, and the enraged man-eater had
+seized him as he rested on the ground, quite at its mercy!</p>
+
+<p>The Maw-Sayah was struggling with his bony hands to extricate himself
+from the clutches of a monstrous tree-spider! We had seen, on an island
+in the South Seas, several cocoa-nut crabs, and this reptile somewhat
+resembled them, but was even larger. Grasping the juggler with several
+of its long, furry-looking claws, it fixed its glaring red eyes in mad
+anger upon him as he grasped in each<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> hand one of its front pair of
+legs, which were armed with strong, heavy-looking pincers. He besought
+us wildly to shoot, even if we killed him, held as he was by his
+relentless foe.</p>
+
+<p>"Harold," cried my companion, "keep clear, and look out for yourself
+when I fire at this reptile; most likely it will make for one of us." He
+drew right close to it, and thrusting the barrel of his pistol between
+its eyes touched the trigger. The explosion shook the hut, its effect
+upon the spider being to cause it to rush frantically about the floor,
+dragging the Maw-Sayah as if he were some slight burden scarcely
+observable.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image266.jpg" width="450" height="320" alt="&quot;A RELENTLESS FOE.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;A RELENTLESS FOE.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"You missed it!" I cried. "Look out, Hassan, guard the doorway!" The
+Arab stood, sword in hand, waiting for it to make for the entrance,
+while Denviers exclaimed:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I shot it through the head!" and a minute afterwards the trueness of
+his aim was manifest, for the claws released, and the Maw-Sayah, wounded
+badly, but saved, stood free from the muscular twitchings of the dead
+spider.</p>
+
+<p>"You scoundrel!" said Denviers to him, "I have a good mind to serve you
+the same. You deserve to die as so many of these simple-minded,
+credulous Kachyens have done." I thought for one brief second that my
+companion was about to kill the juggler, for through all our adventures
+I had never seen him so thoroughly roused. I stood between them; then,
+when Denviers quickly recovered his self-command, I turned to the
+Maw-Sayah and asked:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"If we spare your life, will you promise to leave this village and never
+to return?" He turned his evil-looking but scared face towards us
+eagerly as he replied:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I will do whatever you wish." Denviers motioned to him to rest upon the
+ground, which he did, then turning to me, said:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"It is pretty apparent what this juggler has done. The man who first
+reported the discovery of this Nat, as the foolish Kachyens call it,
+simply disturbed a monstrous spider which had lived in the trees which
+he felled&mdash;that accounts for his seeing it. Finding animal food scarce,
+the reptile ventured into this village and tried to get into one of the
+huts. Its exertions were rewarded by the Kachyen coming to the door,
+whom it accordingly seized. To continue its plan, which proved so
+successful, needed very little reasoning power on the part of such a
+cunning creature. No doubt this Maw-Sayah purposely left the door of his
+hut unfastened each seventh night, and the spider thus became accustomed
+to seek for its victim there, I daresay it came the other nights, but
+the juggler was then careful enough to keep his hut well fastened."</p>
+
+<p>"What do the sahibs propose to do?" interrupted Hassan. Denviers turned
+to him, as he responded:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"We will wait for daybreak; then, having dragged the dead spider out
+where the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> Kachyens may see that it is no longer able to harm them, we
+will take this Maw-Sayah down the mountain path away from the village as
+poor as he came."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 422px;">
+<img src="images/image267.jpg" width="422" height="373" alt="&quot;YOU SCOUNDREL!&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;YOU SCOUNDREL!&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"A good plan," I assented, and we followed it out, eventually leaving
+the juggler, and climbing once more into the howdah upon the elephant,
+which we found close to the spot where we had left it, secured from
+wandering far away by the rope which Hassan had used to hinder its
+movements.</p>
+
+<p>We entered Bhamo, and while we took a much-needed rest, our guide&mdash;as we
+afterwards learnt&mdash;searched for and found the fugitive Kachyen, who, on
+hearing that his safety was secured, hastily departed to the village to
+rejoice with the rest of his tribe that the so-called Nat would not do
+them any more injury.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="From_Behind_the_Speakers_Chair" id="From_Behind_the_Speakers_Chair"></a><i>From Behind the Speaker's Chair.</i></h2>
+
+<h3>III.</h3>
+
+<h3>(VIEWED BY HENRY W. LUCY.)</h3>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image268-1.jpg" width="450" height="174" alt="&quot;OBSTRUCTION.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;OBSTRUCTION.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>It is thirteen years since a new Parliament last blithely started on its
+way with Mr. Gladstone sitting in the seat of the Premier. Since March,
+1880, a great deal has happened, not least in the change of
+circumstances under which the business of the House of Commons is
+conducted. The majority of the House of Commons may be Liberal or
+Conservative, according to a passing flood of conviction on the part of
+the constituencies. When presumptuous hands are stretched forth to touch
+the Ark of its procedure, its instincts are all Tory. For more than two
+hundred years preceding the advent of a Tory Ministry in 1886, this was
+so. Mr. Gladstone, driven to desperation in the second Session of the
+Parliament of 1880-5, endeavoured to reform procedure so that
+obstruction might be fought on even terms. He was met by such resolute
+and persistent opposition from the Conservative side that, even with an
+overwhelming majority at his back, he succeeded only in tinkering the
+pot. Oddly enough, it was left for the Conservatives when they came into
+office to revolutionize the system upon which, through the ages,
+Parliamentary business had been carried on.</p>
+
+<p>There was nothing in the reforms more startling to the old
+Parliamentarian than the proposal automatically to close debate at
+midnight. A dozen years ago members of the House of Commons assembled at
+four o'clock for prayers. Questions began at half-past four, and no one
+could say at what hour of the night or of the next morning the cry "Who
+goes home?" might echo through the lobby. In those days Mr. O'Donnell
+was master of the situation, and he had many imitators. A debate carried
+on through several nights might seem to be approaching a conclusion. The
+Leader of the Opposition, rising between eleven o'clock and midnight,
+spoke in a crowded House. The Premier, or his lieutenant, followed,
+assuming to wind up the debate. Members wearied of the long sitting were
+prepared to go forth to the division lobby; when from below the gangway
+on the left there uprose a familiar figure, and there was heard a
+well-known voice.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 342px;">
+<img src="images/image268-2.jpg" width="342" height="350" alt="F. H. O&#39;DONNELL." title="" />
+<span class="caption">F. H. O&#39;DONNELL.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>These usually belonged to Mr. O'Donnell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> bent upon vindicating the right
+of a private member to interpose when the constituted authorities of the
+House had agreed in the opinion that a debate had been continued long
+enough. A roar of execration from the fagged legislators greeted the
+intruder. He expected this, and was in no degree perturbed. In earliest
+practice he had a way of dropping his eye-glass as if startled by the
+uproar, and searched for it with puzzled, preoccupied expression,
+apparently debating with himself what this outburst might portend. He
+did not love the British House of Commons, and delighted in thwarting
+its purposes. But he knew what was due to it in the way of respect, and,
+however angry passions might rise, however turbulent the scene, he would
+never address it looking upon it with the naked eye. As his eye-glass
+was constantly tumbling out, and as search for it was preternaturally
+deliberate, it played an appreciable part in the prolongation of
+successive Sessions.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 244px;">
+<img src="images/image269-1.jpg" width="244" height="250" alt="&quot;EYE-GLASS PLAY.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;EYE-GLASS PLAY.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>What has become of Frank Hugh now, I wonder? Vanishing from the House of
+Commons, he reappeared for a while on the scene, characteristically
+acting the part of the petrel that heralded the storm Mr. Pigott
+ineffectively tried to ride. It must be a consolation to Mr. O'Donnell,
+in his retirement, wherever it is passed, to reflect on the fact that it
+was he who directly brought about the appointment of the Parnell
+Commission, with all it effected. His action for libel brought against
+the <i>Times</i> preluded and inevitably led up to the formal investigation
+of the famous Charges and Allegations.</p>
+
+<p>The member for Dungarvan was, in his day, the most thoroughly disliked
+man in the House of Commons, distaste for Mr. Parnell and for Mr. Biggar
+in his early prime being softened by contrast with his subtler
+provocation. An exceedingly clever debater, he was a phrase maker, some
+of whose epigrams Mr. Disraeli would not have disowned. He was a
+parliamentary type of ancient standing, and apparently ineradicable
+growth. In the present House of Commons fresh developments are presented
+by Mr. Seymour Keay and Mr. Morton. These are distinct varieties, but
+from the unmistakable root. Both are gifted with boundless volubility,
+unhampered by ordinary considerations of coherency and cogency. Neither
+is influenced by that sense of the dread majesty of the House of Commons
+which keeps some members dumb all through their parliamentary life, and
+to the last, as in the case of Mr. Bright, weighs upon even great
+orators. The difference between the older and the new development is
+that whilst over Mr. O'Donnell's intentional and deliberate vacuity of
+speech there gleamed frequent flashes of wit, Mr. Morton and Mr. Keay
+are only occasionally funny, and then the effect was undesigned.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 233px;">
+<img src="images/image269-2.jpg" width="233" height="400" alt="O&#39;DONNELL&#39;S LAST APPEARANCE." title="" />
+<span class="caption">O&#39;DONNELL&#39;S LAST APPEARANCE.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 152px;">
+<img src="images/image269-3.jpg" width="152" height="350" alt="MR. SEYMOUR KEAY." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MR. SEYMOUR KEAY.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Since we have these two gentlemen still with us, it would be rash to say
+that if Mr. O'Donnell could revisit the glimpses of Big Ben he would
+find his occupation gone. He would certainly discover that his
+opportunities had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> been limited, and would have to recommence practice
+under greatly altered conditions. One of the former member for
+Dungarvan's famous achievements took place in the infancy of the
+Parliament of 1880-5, and, apart from its dramatic interest, is valuable
+as illustrating the change effected in parliamentary procedure by the
+New Rules. On that particular June night the paper was loaded with
+questions in a fashion unfamiliar in the last Parliament, though there
+are not lacking signs of renewed activity since political parties
+changed places. Question No. 23 stood in the name of Mr. O'Donnell, and
+contained in his best literary style a serious indictment of M.
+Challemel-Lacour, just nominated by the French Government as their
+representative at the Court of St. James.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 185px;">
+<img src="images/image270-1.jpg" width="185" height="400" alt="MR. A. C. MORTON." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MR. A. C. MORTON.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Sir Charles Dilke, then Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs, made
+categorical reply, directly traversing all the points in the indictment.
+When he resumed his seat Mr. O'Donnell rose in his usual deliberate
+manner, captured his eye-glass, and having fixed it to his satisfaction,
+remarked in his drawling voice that it was "perfectly impossible to
+accept the explanation of the Government." Being interrupted with cries
+of "Order! Order!" he quietly played his trump card: "If I am not
+allowed to explain," he said, "I will conclude with a motion."</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 252px;">
+<img src="images/image270-2.jpg" width="252" height="350" alt="SIR CHARLES DILKE." title="" />
+<span class="caption">SIR CHARLES DILKE.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The House howled again, but it was a cry of despair. Mr. O'Donnell, they
+knew, had the whip hand. In those good old days he, or any other member
+desiring to obstruct ordinary procedure, might, in the middle of
+questions, start a debate on any subject under the sun. This and other
+outrages were doubtless recalled by the House of Commons when revising
+its Rules. It then ordered that no member might, during the progress of
+questions, interpose with a motion on which to found debate. If, in this
+current month of March, Mr. O'Donnell, being a member of the House of
+Commons, had wanted to attack M. Challemel-Lacour, he must needs have
+waited till the last question on the paper was disposed of, and could
+then have moved the adjournment only if his description of the
+question&mdash;as one of urgent public importance&mdash;was approved by the
+Speaker, and if, thereafter, forty members rose to support the request
+for a hearing.</p>
+
+<p>In June, 1880, all that was left for the crowded House to do was to roar
+with resentment. Mr. O'Donnell was used to this incentive, and had it
+been withheld would probably have shown signs of failing vigour. As it
+was, he produced a pocket-handkerchief, took down his eye-glass and
+carefully polished it, whilst members yelled and tossed about on their
+seats with impotent fury. Under the existing Rules this scene, if it had
+ever opened, would have been promptly blotted out. The closure would
+have been moved, probably a division taken, and the business of the
+evening would have gone forward. There was no closure in those days, and
+Mr. Gladstone, after hurried consultation with Sir Erskine May, hastily
+moved that Mr. O'Donnell be not heard.</p>
+
+<p>A shout of savage exultation rising from every bench, save those on
+which the Irish members sat, hailed a stroke that promised to deliver
+the House from the thraldom of Mr. O'Donnell at the very moment when its
+chains had taken a final twist. In ordinary circumstances this
+resolution would have played the part of the as yet unconsecrated
+closure. A division would have followed, the motion carried by an
+overwhelming majority, and Mr. O'Donnell would have been temporarily
+shut up.</p>
+
+<p>But those were not ordinary times. The Fourth Party was in the prime of
+its vigour. Lord Randolph Churchill's quick eye discovered an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> opening
+for irritating Mr. Gladstone and damaging the Government by making what
+should have been a business night one long turmoil. Mr. Parnell, whilst
+disclaiming any personal sympathy with Mr. O'Donnell, moved the
+adjournment of the debate, and poor, placid Sir Stafford Northcote,
+egged on by the young bloods below the gangway, raised various points of
+order. Finally, at eight o'clock, the House dividing on Mr. Parnell's
+amendment, Sir Stafford Northcote voted with the Irish members, leading
+a hundred men of the Party of Law and Order into the same lobby.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/image271-1.jpg" width="400" height="360" alt="STIRRING UP SIR STAFFORD." title="" />
+<span class="caption">STIRRING UP SIR STAFFORD.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Hour after hour the riot continued. At one time blameless Sir William
+Harcourt, then Home Secretary, appearing at the table, a Conservative
+member, amid tumultuous shouts, moved that he be not heard. When members
+grew tired of shouting at each other they divided on fresh motions for
+the adjournment, and it was not till one o'clock on the following
+morning that Mr. O'Donnell, grateful for a pleasant evening, was good
+enough to undertake that before he recurred to the question he would
+give due notice, so that the Speaker might exercise his discretion in
+revising its terms. At five minutes past one in the morning, after a
+wrangle full eight hours long, the Speaker, with a pretty assumption of
+nothing particular having happened, called on the next question on the
+paper, which was Number 24.</p>
+
+<p>All this might happen again on any night of this month save for the
+beneficent action of the New Rules a long-suffering Parliament was
+finally induced to adopt. On the threshold of a new Parliament it is
+useful to recall the scene as an assistance in calculating what may be
+accomplished by the Parliament elected in 1892, as compared with that
+which began its history in 1880. On the face of it, Parliament to-day
+has much less time at its disposal for the accomplishment of work than
+it had a dozen years ago. Then, the duration of a sitting was
+indefinite. The House might, as it did in February, 1881, meet at four
+o'clock on a Monday afternoon and sit continuously till Wednesday
+morning. Now, the Speaker takes the Chair at three o'clock; public
+business commences at half-past three; and at midnight, save in cases
+where the Standing Order has been formally suspended, the Speaker leaves
+the Chair, and the House adjourns, whoever may be on his feet.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 229px;">
+<img src="images/image271-2.jpg" width="229" height="300" alt="&quot;DISGUST.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;DISGUST.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The influence of this automatic procedure is beneficially felt
+throughout the whole of debate. One wholesome influence works in the
+direction of using up the early hours of the sitting, an arrangement
+which carries comfort to countless printing offices and editorial
+sanctums. Some time before the New Rules came into operation, Mr.
+Gladstone discovered for himself the convenience and desirability of
+taking part in debate at the earliest possible hour of a sitting. His
+earlier associations drifted round a directly opposite course. In the
+good old days the champions of debate did not interpose till close upon
+midnight, when they had the advantage of audiences sustained and
+exhilarated by dinner. That was before the era of special wires to the
+provincial papers, early morning trams, and vastly increased circulation
+for the London journals. Mr. Gladstone discovered that he was more
+carefully reported and his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> observations more deliberately discussed if
+he spoke between five and seven o'clock in the evening than if,
+following his earlier habit, he addressed the House between eleven and
+one in the morning. He has, accordingly, for some years been accustomed,
+when he has an important speech to deliver, to interpose in debate
+immediately after questions.</p>
+
+<p>This habit has become general, even compulsory, with members who may,
+within certain limits, choose their own time for speaking. All the cream
+of debate is now skimmed before the dinner-hour. At the close of a
+pitched battle, the two Leaders of Party, as heretofore, wind up the
+debate. But their opportunity for orating is severely circumscribed. The
+audience in the House of Commons does not begin to reassemble after
+dinner till half-past ten. Rising at that hour, the Leader of the
+Opposition, if he fairly divides the available time with the right
+honourable gentleman opposite, must not speak more than three-quarters
+of an hour, and should not exceed forty minutes.</p>
+
+<p>This is a necessity desirable not less in the orator's interest than in
+that of the audience. Except for the exposition of an intricate measure,
+twenty minutes is ample time for any man to say what is useful for his
+fellow-men to hear. All Mr. Disraeli's best speeches were made within
+half an hour, and if he thought it necessary, from a sense of the
+importance of his position, to prolong them, his stock of good things
+was exhausted in twenty minutes, the rest being what Carlyle
+disrespectfully described as thrice-boiled cole-wort. Mr. Gladstone can
+go on indefinitely, and in very recent times has been known to hold his
+audience spell-bound for three hours. But even he has profited by the
+beneficent tyranny that now rules the limit of debate, and, rising with
+the knowledge that he has but forty minutes to speak in, has excelled
+himself. For less exuberant speakers not gifted with his genius, the new
+discipline is even more marked in its benefits.</p>
+
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 136px;">
+<img src="images/image272.jpg" width="136" height="400" alt="MR. KEIR HARDIE." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MR. KEIR HARDIE.</span>
+</div>
+<p>It is too soon to endeavour to estimate the general characteristics of
+the <i>personnel</i> of the new Parliament. It will probably turn out to be
+very much of the same class as the innumerable army of its predecessors.
+When Mr. Keir Hardie came down on the opening day in a wagonette, with
+flags flying and accordions playing, it was cried aloud in some quarters
+that the end was at hand. This apprehension was strengthened when Mr.
+Hardie strolled about the House with a tweed travelling cap on his head,
+the Speaker at the time being in the chair. This, as Dr. Johnson
+explained, when the lady asked him why he had described the horse's
+pastern as its knee, was "ignorance, pure ignorance." Mr. Hardie is not
+a man of the quietest manners, as was testified to by the apparition in
+Palace Yard of the wagonette and its musical party; but in the
+much-talked-of incident of the cap he sinned inadvertently. Before the
+Speaker took the chair he had seen members walking about with their hats
+on. He had observed that even in his presence they remained seated with
+their heads covered. The shade of etiquette which approves this fashion
+whilst it sternly prohibits a member from keeping his hat on when in
+motion, even to the extent of leaning over to speak to a friend on the
+bench below him, was too fine to catch the eye of a new member.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Keir Hardie has done much worse things than this in his public
+appearances during the recess, and since the Session opened there has
+not been lacking evidence of resolve to keep himself in the front of the
+stage where the gallery may see him. But this is no new thing, to be
+cited in proof of the deterioration of the composition and style of the
+House of Commons. It has been done repeatedly in various fashions within
+recent memory, and always with the same result. No man, not even Mr.
+Biggar&mdash;and he may be cited as the most ruthless experimenter&mdash;has
+successfully struggled against the subtle disciplinary influence of the
+House of Commons.</p>
+
+<p>From the first the member for Cavan set himself in deliberate fashion to
+outrage Parliamentary traditions and usages. He finished by becoming a
+punctilious practitioner of Parliamentary forms, a stickler for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span>
+minutest observation of order. Whilst Mr. Gladstone and other members of
+old standing were content to preface their speeches with the
+monosyllable "Sir," nothing less than "Mr. Speaker, sir," would satisfy
+Mr. Biggar. No one who has not heard the inflection of tone with which
+this was uttered, nor seen the oratorical sweep of the hand that
+launched it on its course, can realize how much of combined deference
+and authority the phrase is capable of. Mr. Biggar, having in his early
+Parliamentary days defied the Chair and affronted the sensibilities of
+the House, alike in the matter of dress and deportment, developed into a
+portly gentleman of almost smug appearance, a terror to new members. Woe
+to any who in his ignorance passed between the Chair and the member
+addressing it; who walked in from a division with his hat on; or who
+stood an inch or two within the Bar whilst debate was going forward. Mr.
+Biggar's strident cry of "Order! Order!" reverberated through the House.
+Others joined in the shout, and the abashed offender hastily withdrew
+into obscurity.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 244px;">
+<img src="images/image273.jpg" width="244" height="200" alt="THE LATE MR. BIGGAR." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE LATE MR. BIGGAR.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>It is the same with others of less strongly marked character. Vanity or
+garrulity may force a new member into a position of notoriety. He may,
+according to his measure of determination, try a fall again and again
+with the House, and may sometimes, as in the case of Mr. O'Donnell, seem
+to win. But in the end the House of Commons proves victorious. It is a
+sort of whetstone on which blades of various temperature operate. In
+time, they either forego the practice or wear themselves away. In either
+case the whetstone remains.</p>
+
+<p>This is a rule without exception, and is a reassuring reflection in view
+of the talk about the degeneracy of the House of Commons, and the
+decadence of its standard of manner. It would not be difficult to show
+that the House at present in Session will, from the point of view of
+manners, favourably compare with any that have gone before&mdash;though, to
+be just, the comparison should be sought with Parliaments elected under
+similar conditions, with the Liberals in office and the Conservatives in
+opposition. That is an arrangement always found to be more conducive to
+lively proceedings than when parties are disposed in the contrary order.
+The Parliament dissolved last year was decorously dull. Mr. Gladstone in
+opposition is not prone to show sport, and no encouragement was held out
+to enterprising groups below the gangway to bait the Government. It was
+very different in the Parliament of 1880-5, of which fact the
+Challemel-Lacour episode is an illustration, only a little more piquant
+in flavour than the average supply.</p>
+
+<p>There are already signs that the new Parliament will not lie under the
+charge of deplorable dulness brought against its predecessor. But these
+varying moods are due to waves of political passion, and do not affect
+the question whether the House of Commons as a body of English gentlemen
+met for the discharge of public business has or has not deteriorated. I
+have an engraving of a picture of the House of Commons in pre-Reform
+days. It was carefully drawn in the Session of 1842. A more respectable
+body of the gentlemen of England it would be difficult to gather
+together. With the possible exception of one or two political
+adventurers like the then member for Shrewsbury, there is probably not a
+man in the House who is not well born or at least rich. Mr. Keir Hardie
+would look strange indeed in these serried ranks of portly gentlemen
+with high coat collars, cravats up to their chin, short-bodied coats
+showing the waistcoat beneath, and the tightly trousered legs. Yet this
+House, and its equally prim successors, had its obstruction, its
+personal wrangles, and its occasional duel. Peel was attacked by
+Disraeli in a fashion and in language that would not be tolerated in the
+House of Commons now, even though the target were Mr. Gladstone.</p>
+
+<p>It is not necessary to go back as far as the days of Peel or
+Parliamentary Reform to sustain the bold assertion that, so far from
+having degenerated, the manners of the House of Commons have improved.
+In the Parliament elected in 1874 there sat on the Conservative side a
+gentleman named Smollet, who early distinguished himself by bringing
+Parliamentary debate down to the level of conversation in "Roderick
+Random." In those days Mr. Gladstone was down after the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> General
+Election, and Mr. Smollet, to the uproarious delight of gentlemen near
+him, savagely kicked him.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 406px;">
+<img src="images/image274.jpg" width="406" height="400" alt="&quot;MOBBING HIM.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;MOBBING HIM.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>It was in the second year of this same Parliament, less than twenty
+years ago, that Mr. Gladstone, issuing from a division lobby, was
+suddenly pounced upon by some fifty or sixty Conservative members, and
+howled at for the space of several moments. It is, happily, possible for
+Mr. Gladstone to forget, or at least to forgive, personal attacks made
+upon him through his long career. In this very month of the new Session
+he may be nightly seen working in cordial fashion with ancient
+adversaries from Ireland, describing as "my honourable friends"
+gentlemen who, ten years ago and for some time subsequently, heaped on
+his head the coarsest vituperation permitted by practised manipulation
+of Parliamentary forms. But this scene in the division lobby on the 12th
+of April, 1875, is burned into his recollection. I have heard him,
+within the last few months, refer to it in those tones of profound
+indignation and with that flashing fire in his eyes only seen when he is
+deeply moved. He mentioned, what I think was not known, that Lord
+Hartington happened to be walking with him at the time. But there was no
+mistake for whom the angry cries were meant. Mr. Gladstone spoke with
+the profounder indignation because, as he said, he had on this occasion
+gone out to vote on behalf of a man whose character he detested, because
+he saw in the action taken against him an attack upon one of the
+privileges of Parliament.</p>
+
+<p>That scene was an outburst of political animosity; and the movements of
+political animosity, like the dicta of taste, are not to be disputed.
+But on the question of good manners, the only one here under
+consideration, it may be affirmed that the present House of Commons
+would be safe from lapse into such an exhibition. To this better state
+of things the operation of the New Rules has conspicuously contributed,
+and though, as we know, they have not operated to the absolute
+extinction of Parliamentary scenes, they have appreciably limited
+opportunity and incentive.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Portraits_of_Celebrities_at_Different_Times_of_their_Lives" id="Portraits_of_Celebrities_at_Different_Times_of_their_Lives"></a><i>Portraits of Celebrities at Different Times of their Lives</i>.</h2>
+
+
+<h3>LORD BATTERSEA.</h3>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Born 1843.</span></h4><div class="figleft" style="width: 330px;">
+<img src="images/image275-1.jpg" width="330" height="425" alt="AGE 14." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 14.<br />
+
+From a Daguerreotype.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Lord Battersea, who was until recently known to the world as Mr. Cyril
+Flower, M.P., is a son of the late Mr. P. W. Flower, of Streatham, and
+was educated at Harrow and at Trinity College, Cambridge.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 235px;">
+<img src="images/image275-2.jpg" width="235" height="300" alt="AGE 21." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 21.<br />
+
+From a Photo, by Mayland, Cambridge.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>He was called to the Bar at the age of twenty-seven, and became Liberal
+Member for Brecknock in 1880, and for the Luton Division of Bedfordshire
+in 1885 and 1886, in which later year he was one of Mr. Gladstone's
+"Whips." He married the daughter of the late Sir Anthony Rothschild, and
+both he and his wife are much interested in the welfare of the lower
+classes of London. Lord Battersea was unanimously reputed the handsomest
+man in the House of Commons, and is now, in every sense of the word, an
+ornament of the House of Lords.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 251px;">
+<img src="images/image275-3.jpg" width="251" height="350" alt="AGE 40.
+." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 40.<br />
+
+From a Drawing.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 409px;">
+<img src="images/image275-4.jpg" width="409" height="450" alt="PRESENT DAY.
+" title="" />
+<span class="caption">PRESENT DAY.<br />
+
+From a Photograph by Bassano, 35, Old Bond Street, W.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3>W. Q. ORCHARDSON, R.A.</h3>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Born</span> 1835.</h4>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 313px;">
+<img src="images/image276-1.jpg" width="313" height="375" alt="AGE 16.
+
+From an Oil Sketch by himself." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 16.<br />
+
+From an Oil Sketch by himself.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 270px;">
+<img src="images/image276-2.jpg" width="270" height="400" alt="AGE 35.
+
+From a Photograph by Walery, Marseilles." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 35.
+<br />
+From a Photograph by Walery, Marseilles.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 274px;">
+<img src="images/image276-3.jpg" width="274" height="400" alt="AGE 44.
+
+From a Photograph." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 44.<br />
+
+From a Photograph.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Mr. William Quiller Orchardson was born in Edinburgh, and at the age of
+fifteen entered the Trustees' Academy of that city, his first pictures
+being exhibited in the Royal Scottish Academy. At the age of
+twenty-eight he came to London, and the same year exhibited at the Royal
+Academy for the first time, his contributions being entitled, "An Old
+English Song" and "Portraits," the latter a life-size composition of
+three young ladies. In 1865 he painted "The Challenge," which won a
+prize of &pound;100 given by Mr. Wallace, and one of the very few Medals
+awarded to English painters at the Paris Universal Exhibition. In 1866
+came "The Story of a Life"&mdash;an aged nun relating her experiences to a
+group of novices. Two years later, when he had only been four years in
+London, he was elected an A.R.A. Among his more recent pictures may be
+mentioned "Napoleon on Board the <i>Bellerophon</i>" (1880), "The Salon of
+Madame Recamier" (1885), "The Young Duke" (1889), and "St. Helena"
+(1892). Mr. Orchardson was elected an R.A. in 1877, and a D.C.L. of
+Oxford in 1890.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 327px;">
+<img src="images/image276-4.jpg" width="327" height="400" alt="PRESENT DAY.
+
+From a Photo. by Elliott &amp; Fry." title="" />
+<span class="caption">PRESENT DAY.
+
+From a Photo. by Elliott &amp; Fry.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3>LADY HALL&Eacute;.</h3>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 257px;">
+<img src="images/image277-1.jpg" width="257" height="400" alt="AGE 10.
+
+From a Drawing." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 10.
+
+From a Drawing.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 293px;">
+<img src="images/image277-3.jpg" width="293" height="450" alt="AGE 23." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 23.
+
+From a Photograph.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Lady Hall&eacute;, whose maiden name was Wilhelmine N&eacute;ruda, was born at Br&uuml;nn,
+where her father was organist of the cathedral. She was a pupil of
+Jansa, and made her first appearance at Vienna at the age of six, and in
+London at the age of nine. After this she returned to the Continent, and
+in 1864 she married Ludwig Norman, a Swedish musician. Since 1869 she
+has been in England every winter, playing especially at the concerts of
+Sir Charles Hall&eacute;, whom she married in 1888.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 328px;">
+<img src="images/image277-2.jpg" width="328" height="400" alt="AGE 35." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 35.<br /><br />
+
+From a Photograph.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 252px;">
+<img src="images/image277-4.jpg" width="252" height="450" alt="PRESENT DAY." title="" />
+<span class="caption">PRESENT DAY.<br />
+
+From a Photo by Burraud.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3>SIR CHARLES HALL&Eacute;.</h3>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 302px;">
+<img src="images/image278-1.jpg" width="302" height="420" alt="AGE 20.
+
+From a Painting." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 20.<br />
+
+From a Painting.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Sir Charles Hall&eacute; is a native of Germany, but at an early age he
+established himself in Paris, where he acquired a great reputation by
+his refined and classical rendering of the compositions of the great
+musicians; but the Revolution of 1843 drove him to England, where he has
+ever since resided. He soon established himself at Manchester, and as
+the founder of the annual series of orchestral and choral concerts there
+and in London, which have become, perhaps, the most important series in
+Europe, he has rendered the most valuable service to musical art.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 304px;">
+<img src="images/image278-2.jpg" width="304" height="400" alt="AGE 31.
+
+From a Painting." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 31.
+
+From a Painting.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 258px;">
+<img src="images/image278-3.jpg" width="258" height="450" alt="AGE 45.
+
+From a Photo, by H. Hering, Regent Street, W." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 45.
+
+From a Photo, by H. Hering, Regent Street, W.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 308px;">
+<img src="images/image278-4.jpg" width="308" height="400" alt="PRESENT DAY.
+
+From a Photo. by Mayall &amp; Co., 164, New Bond Street, W." title="" />
+<span class="caption">PRESENT DAY.
+
+From a Photo. by Mayall &amp; Co., 164, New Bond Street, W.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3>DR. HERMANN ADLER,</h3>
+
+<h4>CHIEF RABBI.</h4>
+
+<h4>Born 1839.</h4>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 305px;">
+<img src="images/image279-1.jpg" width="305" height="400" alt="AGE 24.
+
+From a Photograph by McLean &amp; Haes, Haymarket." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 24.
+
+From a Photograph by McLean &amp; Haes, Haymarket.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<p>Dr. Adler, son of Dr. Nathan Marcus Adler, was born in Hanover, and came
+to London with his father at the age of six. He studied at University
+College, took his B. A. degree at the University of London at twenty,
+and that of Ph. D., at Leipzig, at twenty-two. In the following year he
+was ordained Rabbi by the famous Rapoport, Chief Rabbi of Prague, and
+became in succession Principal of the Jews' College in London and Chief
+Minister of the Bayswater Synagogue. In 1890 his father, the Chief
+Rabbi, died, and Dr. Adler was elected in his place. Dr. Adler is well
+known not only by his powerful and scholarly writings, but by his work
+among the poorer Jews of London.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 294px;">
+<img src="images/image279-2.jpg" width="294" height="450" alt="AGE 37.
+
+From a Photograph by J. R. Sawyer, Norwich." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 37.
+
+From a Photograph by J. R. Sawyer, Norwich.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 261px;">
+<img src="images/image279-3.jpg" width="261" height="400" alt="AGE 44.
+
+From a Photograph by Fradella, 216, Regent Street, W." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 44.
+
+From a Photograph by Fradella, 216, Regent Street, W.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 295px;">
+<img src="images/image279-4.jpg" width="295" height="350" alt="PRESENT DAY.
+
+From a Photograph by The Photographic Co." title="" />
+<span class="caption">PRESENT DAY.
+
+From a Photograph by The Photographic Co.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3>SIR ARCHIBALD ALISON, BART., K.C.B.</h3>
+
+<h4>Born 1826.</h4>
+
+<p>General Alison, son of Sir Archibald Alison, the first Baronet, who was
+the well-known author of "The History of Europe," was born at Edinburgh,
+and entered the Army at the age of twenty. He served in the Crimea, at
+the siege and fall of Sebastopol, at which date our second portrait
+represents him. During the Indian Mutiny he lost an arm at the relief of
+Lucknow. In 1882 he commanded the 1st Brigade, 2nd Division, during the
+expedition to Egypt, and at the decisive battle of Tel-el-Kebir he led
+the Highland Brigade which fought so gallantly on that memorable
+occasion, and after Arabi's surrender he was left in Egypt with the
+command of the British army of 12,000 men to restore order and protect
+the Khedive. Sir Archibald was included in the thanks of Parliament for
+his energy and gallantry, and was promoted to the rank of
+Lieutenant-General; he received his appointment as General in 1889. In
+1869 Sir Archibald Alison published an able treatise, "On Army
+Organization."</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 316px;">
+<img src="images/image280-1.jpg" width="316" height="650" alt="AGE 3." title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 240px;">
+<img src="images/image280-2.jpg" width="240" height="450" alt="AGE 47.
+
+From a Photograph by Jacklett, Aldershot." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 47.
+
+From a Photograph by Jacklett, Aldershot.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 326px;">
+<img src="images/image280-3.jpg" width="326" height="400" alt="PRESENT DAY.
+
+From a Photo, by Barraud." title="" />
+<span class="caption">PRESENT DAY.
+
+From a Photo, by Barraud.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3>MADAME JANE HADING.</h3>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 750px;">
+<img src="images/image281.jpg" width="750" height="1153" alt="AGE 3.
+
+From a Photo. by Chalot et Cie., Paris." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Madame Jane Hading, the well-known French actress, was born at
+Marseilles, in 1863, where her father was popular as a leading actor,
+with whom she appeared when only three years of age as little <i>Blanche
+de Caylus</i> in "Le Bossu." At the age of thirteen she began work in
+earnest, having won "le prix de solf&egrave;ge" at the Marseille Conservatoire,
+and her talent having come to the ears of Mr. Plunkett, the director of
+the Palais Royal, he engaged her for the Palais Royal in Paris, where
+she created the part of <i>La Chaste Suzanne</i>, by Paul Ferrier. Giving up
+comic opera for comedy, Jane Hading went to the Gymnase, where she
+created the part of <i>Claire de Beaulieu</i> in "Le Ma&icirc;tre de Forges."
+London had the opportunity of seeing her in that and "Prince Zilah," by
+Jules Claretie, later on, and fully indorsed the Parisian verdict. These
+conspicuous successes were followed by others almost as notable, and her
+subsequent tour in America won her golden opinions, and was so
+successful that it was extended some months. Her latest Parisian success
+was "Le Prince d'Aurec," which added greatly to her laurels, putting her
+in the very front rank of great artists.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="The_Adventures_of_Sherlock_Holmes" id="The_Adventures_of_Sherlock_Holmes"></a><i>The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes</i>.</h2>
+
+<h3>XVI.&mdash;THE ADVENTURE OF THE STOCKBROKER'S CLERK.</h3>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">By A. Conan Doyle.</span></h3>
+
+
+<p>Shortly after my marriage I had bought a connection in the Paddington
+district. Old Mr. Farquhar, from whom I purchased it, had at one time an
+excellent general practice, but his age, and an affliction of the nature
+of St. Vitus' dance, from which he suffered, had very much thinned it.
+The public, not unnaturally, goes upon the principle that he who would
+heal others must himself be whole, and looks askance at the curative
+powers of the man whose own case is beyond the reach of his drugs. Thus,
+as my predecessor weakened, his practice declined, until when I
+purchased it from him it had sunk from twelve hundred to little more
+than three hundred a year. I had confidence, however, in my own youth
+and energy, and was convinced that in a very few years the concern would
+be as flourishing as ever.</p>
+
+<p>For three months after taking over the practice I was kept very closely
+at work, and saw little of my friend Sherlock Holmes, for I was too busy
+to visit Baker Street, and he seldom went anywhere himself save upon
+professional business. I was surprised, therefore, when one morning in
+June, as I sat reading the <i>British Medical Journal</i> after breakfast, I
+heard a ring at the bell followed by the high, somewhat strident, tones
+of my old companion's voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, my dear Watson," said he, striding into the room. "I am very
+delighted to see you. I trust that Mrs. Watson has entirely recovered
+from all the little excitements connected with our adventure of the
+'Sign of Four.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, we are both very well," said I, shaking him warmly by the
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>"And I hope also," he continued, sitting down in the rocking-chair,
+"that the cares of medical practice have not entirely obliterated the
+interest which you used to take in our little deductive problems."</p>
+
+<p>"On the contrary," I answered; "it was only last night that I was
+looking over my old notes and classifying some of our past results."</p>
+
+<p>"I trust that you don't consider your collection closed?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not at all. I should wish nothing better than to have some more of such
+experiences."</p>
+
+<p>"To-day, for example?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; to-day, if you like."</p>
+
+<p>"And as far off as Birmingham?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, if you wish it."</p>
+
+<p>"And the practice?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do my neighbour's when he goes. He is always ready to work off the
+debt."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image282.jpg" width="500" height="316" alt="&quot;&#39;NOTHING COULD BE BETTER,&#39; SAID HOLMES.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;&#39;NOTHING COULD BE BETTER,&#39; SAID HOLMES.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Ha! Nothing could be better!" said Holmes, leaning back in his chair
+and looking keenly at me from under his half-closed lids. "I perceive
+that you have been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> unwell lately. Summer colds are always a little
+trying."</p>
+
+<p>"I was confined to the house by a severe chill for three days last week.
+I thought, however, that I had cast off every trace of it."</p>
+
+<p>"So you have. You look remarkably robust."</p>
+
+<p>"How, then, did you know of it?"</p>
+
+<p>"My dear fellow, you know my methods."</p>
+
+<p>"You deduced it, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly."</p>
+
+<p>"And from what?"</p>
+
+<p>"From your slippers."</p>
+
+<p>I glanced down at the new patent leathers which I was wearing. "How on
+earth&mdash;&mdash;?" I began, but Holmes answered my question before it was
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Your slippers are new," he said. "You could not have had them more than
+a few weeks. The soles which you are at this moment presenting to me are
+slightly scorched. For a moment I thought they might have got wet and
+been burned in the drying. But near the instep there is a small circular
+wafer of paper with the shopman's hieroglyphics upon it. Damp would of
+course have removed this. You had then been sitting with your feet
+outstretched to the fire, which a man would hardly do even in so wet a
+June as this if he were in his full health."</p>
+
+<p>Like all Holmes's reasoning the thing seemed simplicity itself when it
+was once explained. He read the thought upon my features, and his smile
+had a tinge of bitterness.</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid that I rather give myself away when I explain," said he.
+"Results without causes are much more impressive. You are ready to come
+to Birmingham, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly. What is the case?"</p>
+
+<p>"You shall hear it all in the train. My client is outside in a
+four-wheeler. Can you come at once?"</p>
+
+<p>"In an instant." I scribbled a note to my neighbour, rushed upstairs to
+explain the matter to my wife, and joined Holmes upon the doorstep.</p>
+
+<p>"Your neighbour is a doctor?" said he, nodding at the brass plate.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. He bought a practice as I did."</p>
+
+<p>"An old-established one?"</p>
+
+<p>"Just the same as mine. Both have been ever since the houses were
+built."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, then you got hold of the best of the two."</p>
+
+<p>"I think I did. But how do you know?"</p>
+
+<p>"By the steps, my boy. Yours are worn three inches deeper than his. But
+this gentleman in the cab is my client, Mr. Hall Pycroft. Allow me to
+introduce you to him. Whip your horse up, cabby, for we have only just
+time to catch our train."</p>
+
+<p>The man whom I found myself facing was a well-built, fresh-complexioned
+young fellow with a frank, honest face and a slight, crisp, yellow
+moustache. He wore a very shiny top-hat and a neat suit of sober black,
+which made him look what he was&mdash;a smart young City man, of the class
+who have been labelled Cockneys, but who give us our crack Volunteer
+regiments, and who turn out more fine athletes and sportsmen than any
+body of men in these islands. His round, ruddy face was naturally full
+of cheeriness, but the corners of his mouth seemed to me to be pulled
+down in a half-comical distress. It was not, however, until we were all
+in a first-class carriage and well started upon our journey to
+Birmingham, that I was able to learn what the trouble was which had
+driven him to Sherlock Holmes.</p>
+
+<p>"We have a clear run here of seventy minutes," Holmes remarked. "I want
+you, Mr. Hall Pycroft, to tell my friend your very interesting
+experience exactly as you have told it to me, or with more detail if
+possible. It will be of use to me to hear the succession of events
+again. It is a case, Watson, which may prove to have something in it, or
+may prove to have nothing, but which at least presents those unusual and
+<i>outr&eacute;</i> features which are as dear to you as they are to me. Now, Mr.
+Pycroft, I shall not interrupt you again."</p>
+
+<p>Our young companion looked at me with a twinkle in his eye.</p>
+
+<p>"The worst of the story is," said he, "that I show myself up as such a
+confounded fool. Of course, it may work out all right, and I don't see
+that I could have done otherwise; but if I have lost my crib and get
+nothing in exchange, I shall feel what a soft Johnny I have been. I'm
+not very good at telling a story, Dr. Watson, but it is like this with
+me.</p>
+
+<p>"I used to have a billet at Coxon and Woodhouse, of Drapers' Gardens,
+but they were let in early in the spring through the Venezuelan loan, as
+no doubt you remember, and came a nasty cropper. I had been with them
+five years, and old Coxon gave me a ripping good testimonial when the
+smash came; but, of course, we clerks were all turned adrift, the
+twenty-seven of us. I tried here and tried there, but there were lots of
+other chaps on the same lay as myself, and it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> was a perfect frost for a
+long time. I had been taking three pounds a week at Coxon's, and I had
+saved about seventy of them, but I soon worked my way through that and
+out at the other end. I was fairly at the end of my tether at last, and
+could hardly find the stamps to answer the advertisements or the
+envelopes to stick them to. I had worn out my boots padding up office
+stairs, and I seemed just as far from getting a billet as ever.</p>
+
+<p>"At last I saw a vacancy at Mawson and Williams', the great stockbroking
+firm in Lombard Street. I daresay E. C. is not much in your line, but I
+can tell you that this is about the richest house in London. The
+advertisement was to be answered by letter only. I sent in my
+testimonial and application, but without the least hope of getting it.
+Back came an answer by return saying that if I would appear next Monday
+I might take over my new duties at once, provided that my appearance was
+satisfactory. No one knows how these things are worked. Some people say
+the manager just plunges his hand into the heap and takes the first that
+comes. Anyhow, it was my innings that time, and I don't ever wish to
+feel better pleased. The screw was a pound a week rise, and the duties
+just about the same as at Coxon's.</p>
+
+<p>"And now I come to the queer part of the business. I was in diggings out
+Hampstead way&mdash;17, Potter's Terrace, was the address. Well, I was
+sitting doing a smoke that very evening after I had been promised the
+appointment, when up came my landlady with a card which had 'Arthur
+Pinner, financial agent,' printed upon it. I had never heard the name
+before, and could not imagine what he wanted with me, but of course I
+asked her to show him up. In he walked&mdash;a middle-sized, dark-haired,
+dark-eyed, black-bearded man, with a touch of the sheeny about his nose.
+He had a brisk kind of way with him and spoke sharply, like a man that
+knew the value of time.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 331px;">
+<img src="images/image284.jpg" width="331" height="450" alt="&quot;&#39;MR. HALL PYCROFT, I BELIEVE?&#39; SAID HE.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;&#39;MR. HALL PYCROFT, I BELIEVE?&#39; SAID HE.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"'Mr. Hall Pycroft, I believe?' said he.</p>
+
+<p>"'Yes, sir,' I answered, and pushed a chair towards him.</p>
+
+<p>"'Lately engaged at Coxon and Woodhouse's?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Yes, sir.'</p>
+
+<p>"And now on the staff of Mawson's?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Quite so.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Well,' said he. 'The fact is that I have heard some really
+extraordinary stories about your financial ability. You remember Parker
+who used to be Coxon's manager? He can never say enough about it.'</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I was pleased to hear this. I had always been pretty smart in
+the office, but I had never dreamed that I was talked about in the City
+in this fashion.</p>
+
+<p>"'You have a good memory?' said he.</p>
+
+<p>"'Pretty fair,' I answered, modestly.</p>
+
+<p>"'Have you kept in touch with the market while you have been out of
+work?' he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"'Yes; I read the Stock Exchange List every morning.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Now, that shows real application!' he cried. 'That is the way to
+prosper! You won't mind my testing you, will you? Let me see! How are
+Ayrshires?'</p>
+
+<p>"'One hundred and six and a quarter to one hundred and five and
+seven-eighths,' I answered.</p>
+
+<p>"'And New Zealand Consolidated?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"'A hundred and four.'</p>
+
+<p>"'And British Broken Hills?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Seven to seven and six.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Wonderful!' he cried, with his hands up. 'This quite fits in with all
+that I had heard. My boy, my boy, you are very much too good to be a
+clerk at Mawson's!'</p>
+
+<p>"This outburst rather astonished me, as you can think. 'Well,' said I,
+'other people don't think quite so much of me as you seem to do, Mr.
+Pinner. I had a hard enough fight to get this berth, and I am very glad
+to have it.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Pooh, man, you should soar above it. You are not in your true sphere.
+Now I'll tell you how it stands with me. What I have to offer is little
+enough when measured by your ability, but when compared with Mawson's it
+is light to dark. Let me see! When do you go to Mawson's?'</p>
+
+<p>"'On Monday.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Ha! ha! I think I would risk a little sporting flutter that you don't
+go there at all.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Not go to Mawson's?'</p>
+
+<p>"'No, sir. By that day you will be the business manager of the
+Franco-Midland Hardware Company, Limited, with one hundred and
+thirty-four branches in the towns and villages of France, not counting
+one in Brussels and one in San Remo.'</p>
+
+<p>"This took my breath away. 'I never heard of it,' said I.</p>
+
+<p>"'Very likely not. It has been kept very quiet, for the capital was all
+privately subscribed, and it is too good a thing to let the public into.
+My brother, Harry Pinner, is promoter, and joins the board after
+allotment as managing director. He knew that I was in the swim down
+here, and he asked me to pick up a good man cheap&mdash;a young, pushing man
+with plenty of snap about him. Parker spoke of you, and that brought me
+here to-night. We can only offer you a beggarly five hundred to start
+with&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>"'Five hundred a year!' I shouted.</p>
+
+<p>"'Only that at the beginning, but you are to have an over-riding
+commission of 1 per cent, on all business done by your agents, and you
+may take my word for it that this will come to more than your salary.'</p>
+
+<p>"'But I know nothing about hardware.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Tut, my boy, you know about figures.'</p>
+
+<p>"My head buzzed, and I could hardly sit still in the chair. But suddenly
+a little chill of doubt came over me.</p>
+
+<p>"'I must be frank with you,' said I. 'Mawson only gives me two hundred,
+but Mawson is safe. Now, really, I know so little about your company
+that&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>"'Ah, smart, smart!' he cried, in a kind of ecstasy of delight. 'You are
+the very man for us! You are not to be talked over, and quite right too.
+Now, here's a note for a hundred pounds; and if you think that we can do
+business you may just slip it into your pocket as an advance upon your
+salary.'</p>
+
+<p>"'That is very handsome,' said I. 'When should I take over my new
+duties?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Be in Birmingham to-morrow at one,' said he. 'I have a note in my
+pocket here which you will take to my brother. You will find him at
+126B, Corporation Street, where the temporary offices of the company are
+situated. Of course he must confirm your engagement, but between
+ourselves it will be all right.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Really, I hardly know how to express my gratitude, Mr. Pinner,' said
+I.</p>
+
+<p>"'Not at all, my boy. You have only got your deserts. There are one or
+two small things&mdash;mere formalities&mdash;which I must arrange with you. You
+have a bit of paper beside you there. Kindly write upon it, "I am
+perfectly willing to act as business manager to the Franco-Midland
+Hardware Company, Limited, at a minimum salary of &pound;500."'</p>
+
+<p>"I did as he asked, and he put the paper in his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"'There is one other detail,' said he. 'What do you intend to do about
+Mawson's?'</p>
+
+<p>"I had forgotten all about Mawson's in my joy.</p>
+
+<p>"'I'll write and resign,' said I.</p>
+
+<p>"'Precisely what I don't want you to do. I had a row over you with
+Mawson's manager. I had gone up to ask him about you, and he was very
+offensive&mdash;accused me of coaxing you away from the service of the firm,
+and that sort of thing. At last I fairly lost my temper. "If you want
+good men you should pay them a good price," said I. "He would rather
+have our small price than your big one," said he. "I'll lay you a
+fiver," said I, "that when he has my offer you will never so much as
+hear from him again." "Done!" said he. "We picked him out of the gutter,
+and he won't leave us so easily." Those were his very words.'</p>
+
+<p>"'The impudent scoundrel!' I cried. 'I've never so much as seen him in
+my life. Why should I consider him in any way? I shall certainly not
+write if you would rather that I didn't.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Good! That's a promise!' said he, rising from his chair. 'Well, I am
+delighted to have got so good a man for my brother.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> Here is your
+advance of a hundred pounds, and here is the letter. Make a note of the
+address, 126B, Corporation Street, and remember that one o'clock
+to-morrow is your appointment. Good-night, and may you have all the
+fortune that you deserve.'</p>
+
+<p>"That's just about all that passed between us as near as I can remember
+it. You can imagine, Dr. Watson, how pleased I was at such an
+extraordinary bit of good fortune. I sat up half the night hugging
+myself over it, and next day I was off to Birmingham in a train that
+would take me in plenty of time for my appointment. I took my things to
+an hotel in New Street, and then I made my way to the address which had
+been given me.</p>
+
+<p>"It was a quarter of an hour before my time, but I thought that would
+make no difference. 126B was a passage between two large shops which led
+to a winding stone stair, from which there were many flats, let as
+offices to companies or professional men. The names of the occupants
+were painted up at the bottom on the wall, but there was no such name as
+the Franco-Midland Hardware Company, Limited. I stood for a few minutes
+with my heart in my boots, wondering whether the whole thing was an
+elaborate hoax or not, when up came a man and addressed me. He was very
+like the chap that I had seen the night before, the same figure and
+voice, but he was clean shaven and his hair was lighter.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 311px;">
+<img src="images/image286.jpg" width="311" height="450" alt="&quot;UP CAME A MAN AND ADDRESSED ME.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;UP CAME A MAN AND ADDRESSED ME.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"'Are you Mr. Hall Pycroft?' he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"'Yes,' said I.</p>
+
+<p>"'Ah! I was expecting you, but you are a trifle before your time. I had
+a note from my brother this morning, in which he sang your praises very
+loudly.'</p>
+
+<p>"'I was just looking for the offices when you came.'</p>
+
+<p>"'We have not got our name up yet, for we only secured these temporary
+premises last week. Come up with me and we will talk the matter over.'</p>
+
+<p>"I followed him to the top of a very lofty stair, and there right under
+the slates were a couple of empty and dusty little rooms, uncarpeted and
+uncurtained, into which he led me. I had thought of a great office with
+shining tables and rows of clerks such as I was used to, and I daresay I
+stared rather straight at the two deal chairs and one little table,
+which, with a ledger and a waste-paper basket, made up the whole
+furniture.</p>
+
+<p>"'Don't be disheartened, Mr. Pycroft,' said my new acquaintance, seeing
+the length of my face. 'Rome was not built in a day, and we have lots of
+money at our backs, though we don't cut much dash yet in offices. Pray
+sit down and let me have your letter.'</p>
+
+<p>"I gave it to him, and he read it over very carefully.</p>
+
+<p>"'You seem to have made a vast impression upon my brother, Arthur,' said
+he, 'and I know that he is a pretty shrewd judge. He swears by London,
+you know, and I by Birmingham, but this time I shall follow his advice.
+Pray consider yourself definitely engaged.'</p>
+
+<p>"'What are my duties?' I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"'You will eventually manage the great dep&ocirc;t in Paris, which will pour a
+flood of English crockery into the shops of one hundred and thirty-four
+agents in France. The purchase will be completed in a week, and
+meanwhile you will remain in Birmingham and make yourself useful.'</p>
+
+<p>"'How?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"For answer he took a big red book out of a drawer. 'This is a directory
+of Paris,' said he, 'with the trades after the names of the people. I
+want you to take it home with you, and to mark off all the hardware
+sellers with their addresses. It would be of the greatest use to me to
+have them.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Surely, there are classified lists?' I suggested.</p>
+
+<p>"'Not reliable ones. Their system is different to ours. Stick at it and
+let me have the lists by Monday, at twelve. Good-day, Mr. Pycroft; if
+you continue to show zeal and intelligence, you will find the company a
+good master.'</p>
+
+<p>"I went back to the hotel with the big book under my arm, and with very
+conflicting feelings in my breast. On the one hand I was definitely
+engaged, and had a hundred pounds in my pocket. On the other, the look
+of the offices, the absence of name on the wall, and other of the points
+which would strike a business man had left a bad impression as to the
+position of my employers. However, come what might, I had my money, so I
+settled down to my task. All Sunday I was kept hard at work, and yet by
+Monday I had only got as far as H. I went round to my employer, found
+him in the same dismantled kind of room, and was told to keep at it
+until Wednesday, and then come again. On Wednesday it was still
+unfinished, so I hammered away until Friday&mdash;that is, yesterday. Then I
+brought it round to Mr. Harry Pinner.</p>
+
+<p>"'Thank you very much,' said he. 'I fear that I underrated the
+difficulty of the task. This list will be of very material assistance to
+me.'</p>
+
+<p>"'It took some time,' said I.</p>
+
+<p>"'And now,' said he, 'I want you to make a list of the furniture shops,
+for they all sell crockery.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Very good.'</p>
+
+<p>"'And you can come up to-morrow evening at seven, and let me know how
+you are getting on. Don't overwork yourself. A couple of hours at Day's
+Music-Hall in the evening would do you no harm after your labours.' He
+laughed as he spoke, and I saw with a thrill that his second tooth upon
+the left-hand side had been very badly stuffed with gold."</p>
+
+<p>Sherlock Holmes rubbed his hands with delight, and I stared in
+astonishment at our client.</p>
+
+<p>"You may well look surprised, Dr. Watson, but it is this way," said he.
+"When I was speaking to the other chap in London at the time that he
+laughed at my not going to Mawson's, I happened to notice that his tooth
+was stuffed in this very identical fashion. The glint of the gold in
+each case caught my eye, you see. When I put that with the voice and
+figure being the same, and only those things altered which might be
+changed by a razor or a wig, I could not doubt that it was the same man.
+Of course, you expect two brothers to be alike, but not that they should
+have the same tooth stuffed in the same way. He bowed me out and I found
+myself in the street, hardly knowing whether I was on my head or my
+heels. Back I went to my hotel, put my head in a basin of cold water,
+and tried to think it out. Why had he sent me from London to Birmingham;
+why had he got there before me; and why had he written a letter from
+himself to himself? It was altogether too much for me, and I could make
+no sense of it. And then suddenly it struck me that what was dark to me
+might be very light to Mr. Sherlock Holmes. I had just time to get up to
+town by the night train, to see him this morning, and to bring you both
+back with me to Birmingham."</p>
+
+<p>There was a pause after the stockbroker's clerk had concluded his
+surprising experience. Then Sherlock Holmes cocked his eye at me,
+leaning back on the cushions with a pleased and yet critical face, like
+a connoisseur who had just taken his first sip of a comet vintage.</p>
+
+<p>"Rather fine, Watson, is it not?" said he. "There are points in it which
+please me. I think you will agree with me that an interview with Mr.
+Arthur Harry Pinner in the temporary offices of the Franco-Midland
+Hardware Company, Limited, would be a rather interesting experience for
+both of us."</p>
+
+<p>"But how can we do it?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, easily enough," said Hall Pycroft, cheerily. "You are two friends
+of mine who are in want of a billet, and what could be more natural than
+that I should bring you both round to the managing director?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite so! Of course!" said Holmes. "I should like to have a look at the
+gentleman and see if I can make anything of his little game. What
+qualities have you, my friend, which would make your services so
+valuable? or is it possible that&mdash;&mdash;" he began biting his nails and
+staring blankly out of the window, and we hardly drew another word from
+him until we were in New Street.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>At seven o'clock that evening we were walking, the three of us, down
+Corporation Street to the company's offices.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It is of no use our being at all before our time," said our client. "He
+only comes there to see me apparently, for the place is deserted up to
+the very hour he names."</p>
+
+<p>"That is suggestive," remarked Holmes.</p>
+
+<p>"By Jove, I told you so!" cried the clerk. "That's he walking ahead of
+us there."</p>
+
+<p>He pointed to a smallish, blonde, well-dressed man, who was bustling
+along the other side of the road. As we watched him he looked across at
+a boy who was bawling out the latest edition of the evening paper, and,
+running over among the cabs and 'buses, he bought one from him. Then
+clutching it in his hand he vanished through a doorway.</p>
+
+<p>"There he goes!" cried Hall Pycroft. "Those are the company's offices
+into which he has gone. Come with me and I'll fix it up as easily as
+possible."</p>
+
+<p>Following his lead we ascended five stories, until we found ourselves
+outside a half-opened door, at which our client tapped. A voice within
+bade us "Come in," and we entered a bare, unfurnished room, such as Hall
+Pycroft had described. At the single table sat the man whom we had seen
+in the street, with his evening paper spread out in front of him, and as
+he looked up at us it seemed to me that I had never looked upon a face
+which bore such marks of grief, and of something beyond grief&mdash;of a
+horror such as comes to few men in a lifetime. His brow glistened with
+perspiration, his cheeks were of the dull dead white of a fish's belly,
+and his eyes were wild and staring. He looked at his clerk as though he
+failed to recognise him, and I could see, by the astonishment depicted
+upon our conductor's face, that this was by no means the usual
+appearance of his employer.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image288.jpg" width="450" height="337" alt="&quot;HE LOOKED UP AT US.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;HE LOOKED UP AT US.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"You look ill, Mr. Pinner," he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I am not very well," answered the other, making obvious efforts to
+pull himself together, and licking his dry lips before he spoke. "Who
+are these gentlemen whom you have brought with you?"</p>
+
+<p>"One is Mr. Harris, of Bermondsey, and the other is Mr. Price, of this
+town," said our clerk, glibly. "They are friends of mine, and gentlemen
+of experience, but they have been out of a place for some little time,
+and they hoped that perhaps you might find an opening for them in the
+company's employment."</p>
+
+<p>"Very possibly! Very possibly!" cried Mr. Pinner, with a ghastly smile.
+"Yes, I have no doubt that we shall be able to do something for you.
+What is your particular line, Mr. Harris?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am an accountant," said Holmes.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, yes, we shall want something of the sort. And you, Mr. Price?"</p>
+
+<p>"A clerk," said I.</p>
+
+<p>"I have every hope that the company may accommodate you. I will let you
+know about it as soon as we come to any conclusion. And now I beg that
+you will go. For God's sake, leave me to myself!"</p>
+
+<p>These last words were shot out of him, as though the constraint which he
+was evidently setting upon himself had suddenly and utterly burst
+asunder. Holmes and I glanced at each other, and Hall Pycroft took a
+step towards the table.</p>
+
+<p>"You forget, Mr. Pinner, that I am here<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> by appointment to receive some
+directions from you," said he.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, Mr. Pycroft, certainly," the other answered in a calmer
+tone. "You may wait here a moment, and there is no reason why your
+friends should not wait with you. I will be entirely at your service in
+three minutes, if I might trespass upon your patience so far." He rose
+with a very courteous air, and bowing to us he passed out through a door
+at the further end of the room, which he closed behind him.</p>
+
+<p>"What now?" whispered Holmes. "Is he giving us the slip?"</p>
+
+<p>"Impossible," answered Pycroft.</p>
+
+<p>"Why so?"</p>
+
+<p>"That door leads into an inner room."</p>
+
+<p>"There is no exit?"</p>
+
+<p>"None."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it furnished?"</p>
+
+<p>"It was empty yesterday."</p>
+
+<p>"Then what on earth can he be doing? There is something which I don't
+understand in this matter. If ever a man was three parts mad with
+terror, that man's name is Pinner. What can have put the shivers on
+him?"</p>
+
+<p>"He suspects that we are detectives," I suggested.</p>
+
+<p>"That's it," said Pycroft.</p>
+
+<p>Holmes shook his head. "He did not turn pale. He <i>was</i> pale when we
+entered the room," said he. "It is just possible that&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>His words were interrupted by a sharp rat-tat from the direction of the
+inner door.</p>
+
+<p>"What the deuce is he knocking at his own door for?" cried the clerk.</p>
+
+<p>Again and much louder came the rat-tat-tat. We all gazed expectantly at
+the closed door. Glancing at Holmes I saw his face turn rigid, and he
+leaned forward in intense excitement. Then suddenly came a low gurgling,
+gargling sound and a brisk drumming upon woodwork. Holmes sprang
+frantically across the room and pushed at the door. It was fastened on
+the inner side. Following his example, we threw ourselves upon it with
+all our weight. One hinge snapped, then the other, and down came the
+door with a crash. Rushing over it we found ourselves in the inner room.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 319px;">
+<img src="images/image289.jpg" width="319" height="450" alt="&quot;WE FOUND OURSELVES IN THE INNER ROOM.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;WE FOUND OURSELVES IN THE INNER ROOM.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>It was empty.</p>
+
+<p>But it was only for a moment that we were at fault. At one corner, the
+corner nearest the room which we had left, there was a second door.
+Holmes sprang to it and pulled it open. A coat and waistcoat were lying
+on the floor, and from a hook behind the door, with his own braces round
+his neck, was hanging the managing director of the Franco-Midland
+Hardware Company. His knees were drawn up, his head hung at a dreadful
+angle to his body, and the clatter of his heels against the door made
+the noise which had broken in upon our conversation. In an instant I had
+caught him round the waist and held him up, while Holmes and Pycroft
+untied the elastic bands which had disappeared between the livid creases
+of skin. Then we carried him into the other room, where he lay with a
+clay-coloured face, puffing his purple lips in and out with every
+breath&mdash;a dreadful wreck of all that he had been but five minutes
+before.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you think of him, Watson?" asked Holmes.</p>
+
+<p>I stooped over him and examined him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>His pulse was feeble and intermittent, but his breathing grew longer,
+and there was a little shivering of his eyelids which showed a thin
+white slit of ball beneath.</p>
+
+<p>"It has been touch and go with him," said I, "but he'll live now. Just
+open that window and hand me the water carafe." I undid his collar,
+poured the cold water over his face, and raised and sank his arms until
+he drew a long natural breath.</p>
+
+<p>"It's only a question of time now," said I, as I turned away from him.</p>
+
+<p>Holmes stood by the table with his hands deep in his trousers pockets
+and his chin upon his breast.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose we ought to call the police in now," said he; "and yet I
+confess that I like to give them a complete case when they come."</p>
+
+<p>"It's a blessed mystery to me," cried Pycroft, scratching his head.
+"Whatever they wanted to bring me all the way up here for, and then&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Pooh! All that is clear enough," said Holmes, impatiently. "It is this
+last sudden move."</p>
+
+<p>"You understand the rest, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think that it is fairly obvious. What do you say, Watson?"</p>
+
+<p>I shrugged my shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>"I must confess that I am out of my depths," said I.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, surely, if you consider the events at first they can only point to
+one conclusion."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you make of them?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, the whole thing hinges upon two points. The first is the making
+of Pycroft write a declaration by which he entered the service of this
+preposterous company. Do you not see how very suggestive that is?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid I miss the point."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, why did they want him to do it? Not as a business matter, for
+these arrangements are usually verbal, and there was no earthly business
+reason why this should be an exception. Don't you see, my young friend,
+that they were very anxious to obtain a specimen of your handwriting,
+and had no other way of doing it?"</p>
+
+<p>"And why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite so. Why? When we answer that, we have made some progress with our
+little problem. Why? There can be only one adequate reason. Someone
+wanted to learn to imitate your writing, and had to procure a specimen
+of it first. And now if we pass on to the second point, we find that
+each throws light upon the other. That point is the request made by
+Pinner that you should not resign your place, but should leave the
+manager of this important business in the full expectation that a Mr.
+Hall Pycroft, whom he had never seen, was about to enter the office upon
+the Monday morning."</p>
+
+<p>"My God!" cried our client, "what a blind beetle I have been!"</p>
+
+<p>"Now you see the point about the handwriting. Suppose that someone
+turned up in your place who wrote a completely different hand from that
+in which you had applied for the vacancy, of course the game would have
+been up. But in the interval the rogue learnt to imitate you, and his
+position was therefore secure, as I presume that nobody in the office
+had ever set eyes upon you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not a soul," groaned Hall Pycroft.</p>
+
+<p>"Very good. Of course, it was of the utmost importance to prevent you
+from thinking better of it, and also to keep you from coming into
+contact with anyone who might tell you that your double was at work in
+Mawson's office. Therefore they gave you a handsome advance on your
+salary, and ran you off to the Midlands, where they gave you enough work
+to do to prevent your going to London, where you might have burst their
+little game up. That is all plain enough."</p>
+
+<p>"But why should this man pretend to be his own brother?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that is pretty clear also. There are evidently only two of them
+in it. The other is personating you at the office. This one acted as
+your engager, and then found that he could not find you an employer
+without admitting a third person into his plot. That he was most
+unwilling to do. He changed his appearance as far as he could, and
+trusted that the likeness, which you could not fail to observe, would be
+put down to a family resemblance. But for the happy chance of the gold
+stuffing your suspicions would probably have never been aroused."</p>
+
+<p>Hall Pycroft shook his clenched hands in the air. "Good Lord!" he cried.
+"While I have been fooled in this way, what has this other Hall Pycroft
+been doing at Mawson's? What should we do, Mr. Holmes? Tell me what to
+do!"</p>
+
+<p>"We must wire to Mawson's."</p>
+
+<p>"They shut at twelve on Saturdays."</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind; there may be some doorkeeper or attendant&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, yes; they keep a permanent guard there on account of the value of
+the securities that they hold. I remember hearing it talked of in the
+City."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 353px;">
+<img src="images/image291.jpg" width="353" height="450" alt="&quot;PYCROFT SHOOK HIS CLENCHED HANDS IN THE AIR.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;PYCROFT SHOOK HIS CLENCHED HANDS IN THE AIR.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Very good, we shall wire to him, and see if all is well, and if a clerk
+of your name is working there. That is clear enough, but what is not so
+clear is why at sight of us one of the rogues should instantly walk out
+of the room and hang himself."</p>
+
+<p>"The paper!" croaked a voice behind us. The man was sitting up, blanched
+and ghastly, with returning reason in his eyes, and hands which rubbed
+nervously at the broad red band which still encircled his throat.</p>
+
+<p>"The paper! Of course!" yelled Holmes, in a paroxysm of excitement.
+"Idiot that I was! I thought so much of our visit that the paper never
+entered my head for an instant. To be sure the secret must lie there."
+He flattened it out upon the table, and a cry of triumph burst from his
+lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Look at this, Watson!" he cried. "It is a London paper, an early
+edition of the <i>Evening Standard</i>. Here is what we want. Look at the
+headlines&mdash;'Crime in the City. Murder at Mawson and Williams'. Gigantic
+Attempted Robbery; Capture of the Criminal.' Here, Watson, we are all
+equally anxious to hear it, so kindly read it aloud to us."</p>
+
+<p>It appeared from its position in the paper to have been the one event of
+importance in town, and the account of it ran in this way:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"A desperate attempt at robbery, culminating in the death of one man and
+the capture of the criminal, occurred this afternoon in the City. For
+some time back Mawson and Williams, the famous financial house, have
+been the guardians of securities which amount in the aggregate to a sum
+of considerably over a million sterling. So conscious was the manager of
+the responsibility which devolved upon him in consequence of the great
+interests at stake, that safes of the very latest construction have been
+employed, and an armed watchman has been left day and night in the
+building. It appears that last week a new clerk, named Hall Pycroft, was
+engaged by the firm. This person appears to have been none other than
+Beddington, the famous forger and cracksman, who, with his brother, has
+only recently emerged from a five years' spell of penal servitude. By
+some means, which are not yet clear, he succeeded in winning, under a
+false name, this official position in the office, which he utilized in
+order to obtain mouldings of various locks, and a thorough knowledge of
+the position of the strong room and the safes.</p>
+
+<p>"It is customary at Mawson's for the clerks to leave at midday on
+Saturday. Sergeant Tuson, of the City Police, was somewhat surprised
+therefore to see a gentleman with a carpet bag come down the steps at
+twenty minutes past one. His suspicions being aroused, the sergeant
+followed the man, and with the aid of Constable Pollock succeeded, after
+a most desperate resistance, in arresting him. It was at once clear that
+a daring and gigantic robbery had been committed. Nearly a hundred
+thousand pounds worth of American railway bonds, with a large amount of
+scrip in other mines<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> and companies, were discovered in the bag. On
+examining the premises the body of the unfortunate watchman was found
+doubled up and thrust into the largest of the safes, where it would not
+have been discovered until Monday morning had it not been for the prompt
+action of Sergeant Tuson. The man's skull had been shattered by a blow
+from a poker, delivered from behind. There could be no doubt that
+Beddington had obtained entrance by pretending that he had left
+something behind him, and having murdered the watchman, rapidly rifled
+the large safe, and then made off with his booty. His brother, who
+usually works with him, has not appeared in this job, so far as can at
+present be ascertained, although the police are making energetic
+inquiries as to his whereabouts."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 647px;">
+<img src="images/image292.jpg" width="647" height="450" alt="&quot;GLANCING AT THE HAGGARD FIGURE.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;GLANCING AT THE HAGGARD FIGURE.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Well, we may save the police some little trouble in that direction,"
+said Holmes, glancing at the haggard figure huddled up by the window.
+"Human nature is a strange mixture, Watson. You see that even a villain
+and a murderer can inspire such affection that his brother turns to
+suicide when he learns that his neck is forfeited. However, we have no
+choice as to our action. The doctor and I will remain on guard, Mr.
+Pycroft, if you will have the kindness to step out for the police."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Beauties" id="Beauties"></a><i>Beauties.</i></h2>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 750px;">
+<img src="images/image293.jpg" width="750" height="1148" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 750px;">
+<img src="images/image294.jpg" width="750" height="1141" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 750px;">
+<img src="images/image295.jpg" width="750" height="1193" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="Hands" id="Hands"></a><i>Hands.</i></h2>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">By Beckles Willson.</span></h3>
+
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/image296-1.jpg" width="600" height="420" alt="CASTING A HAND FROM LIFE." title="" />
+<span class="caption">CASTING A HAND FROM LIFE.<br />
+(<i>Studio of Mr. Onslow Ford, A.R.A.</i>)</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The sculptor's practice of casting in plaster the hands of his client is
+of comparatively recent growth. The artist of the old school&mdash;and he is
+followed in this by many of the new&mdash;disdained so mechanical a means to
+fidelity. Very few, indeed, among the British painters and sculptors of
+the past will be found who took the pains to see that the hands or even
+the figures of their counterfeit presentments on canvas or in marble
+tallied with the originals. Sir Joshua Reynolds, as we know, would have
+regarded this as the essence of finical vulgarity.</p>
+
+<p>The principal drawback in making casts from life is to be found in the
+discomfort, not to speak of the actual torment, it often causes the
+sitter by the adhesion of the plaster to the hairy growth of the skin.
+Various methods are resorted to with a view to obviate this, and in some
+cases successfully.</p>
+
+<p>The hands of Thomas Carlyle&mdash;stubborn, combative, mystical&mdash;which appear
+in the present paper, will amply repay the closest scrutiny. These hands
+are unwontedly realistic, and emphasize their distinctiveness in every
+vein and wrinkle. They appear to be themselves endowed with each of
+those various qualities which caused their possessor to be regarded as
+one of the most puissant figures in the century's literature. The hand
+is not one, to use Charles Lamb's expressive phrase, to be looked at
+<i>standing on one leg</i>. It deserves a keener examination.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 347px;">
+<img src="images/image296-2.jpg" width="347" height="250" alt="THOMAS CARLYLE&#39;S HANDS." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THOMAS CARLYLE&#39;S HANDS.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Mention has been made of the hand of a distinguished prelate, Cardinal
+Manning.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> It will not be out of place to compare it with the hands of
+the late Archbishop of Canterbury, which were cast posthumously.
+Scarcely anything could be more antagonistic. The nervous personality of
+Manning is wanting here. The hands of the Archbishop seem more to belong
+to the order of the benevolent Bishop Myriel than to that of the
+enthusiast and ascetic.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/image297-1.jpg" width="400" height="225" alt="THE LATE ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY&#39;S HANDS." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE LATE ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY&#39;S HANDS.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 463px;">
+<img src="images/image297-2.jpg" width="463" height="300" alt="LORD PALMERSTON&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">LORD PALMERSTON&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Plenty of opportunity to study the hands of statesmen is afforded in
+those of Lord Palmerston, Count Cavour, Sir Stratford Canning, and Lord
+Melbourne. The fallacy of attaching special qualities to any distinctive
+trait in the hand of an eminent person is most readily discernible here.
+One should avoid <i>&agrave; posteriori</i> reasoning. It would be the same for a
+physiognomist to argue a man a statesman from a facial resemblance to
+Mr. Gladstone, or that he is fit to write tragedies because he owns the
+exact facial proportions of Sardou.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 371px;">
+<img src="images/image297-1a.jpg" width="371" height="275" alt="COUNT CAVOUR&#39;S HANDS." title="" />
+<span class="caption">COUNT CAVOUR&#39;S HANDS.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 411px;">
+<img src="images/image297-2a.jpg" width="411" height="300" alt="SIR STRATFORD CANNING&#39;S HANDS." title="" />
+<span class="caption">SIR STRATFORD CANNING&#39;S HANDS.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Among these the hand of Lord Palmerston will stand forth most
+prominently to the reader. Its characteristics are, on the whole,
+sufficiently obvious, in the appended cast, to be thought accentuated.
+It might not unprofitably be noted in connection with those of Stratford
+Canning, Viscount de Redcliffe (for fifty years British Ambassador in
+India), whose statue by Boehm, with Tennyson's famous epitaph:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou third great Canning, stand among our best<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And noblest, now thy long day's work hath ceased,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here, silent in our Minster of the West,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who wert the voice of England in the East!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>is in a nave of the Abbey. With these should be joined the hand of
+Viscount Melbourne, the predecessor of Sir Robert Peel in the
+Premiership, and the great statesman after whom the city of Melbourne
+was named, in order<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> to range this British galaxy against the hands of
+the Italian patriots, Count Cavour and Joseph Garibaldi, whose labours
+resulted in that master stroke of latter-day politics, the unification
+of Italy. Those of the former were cast separately in different
+positions, it being the intention of the sculptor for the right hand to
+rest lightly upon a column and the left to grasp a roll of parchment.
+Garibaldi's hand may be described as both virile and nervous.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 338px;">
+<img src="images/image298-1.jpg" width="338" height="300" alt="LORD MELBOURNE&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">LORD MELBOURNE&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 244px;">
+<img src="images/image298-2.jpg" width="244" height="361" alt="HAND OF JOHN BURNS, M.P." title="" />
+<span class="caption">HAND OF JOHN BURNS, M.P.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 337px;">
+<img src="images/image298-3.jpg" width="337" height="250" alt="HAND OF JOSEPH ARCH, M.P." title="" />
+<span class="caption">HAND OF JOSEPH ARCH, M.P.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 326px;">
+<img src="images/image298-4.jpg" width="326" height="250" alt="GARIBALDI&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">GARIBALDI&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 360px;">
+<img src="images/image298-5.jpg" width="360" height="200" alt="SIR E. BOEHM&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">SIR E. BOEHM&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 356px;">
+<img src="images/image298-6.jpg" width="356" height="200" alt="HAND OF JOHN JACKSON, R.A." title="" />
+<span class="caption">HAND OF JOHN JACKSON, R.A.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Another type of hand is exemplified in the hands of Messrs. Joseph Arch
+and John Burns. Both of these belong to self-made men, accustomed to
+hard manual labour from childhood. Their powerful ruggedness is
+admirably set off by the exquisite symmetry and feminine proportions of
+the hand of John Jackson a Royal Academician and great painter of his
+time. For symmetry, combined with grace, this hand is not surpassed.</p>
+
+<p>The hand of Sir Edgar Boehm was cast by his assistant, Professor
+Lant&eacute;ri, for the former's statue of Sir Francis Drake. It will be
+observed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> that the fingers grasp a pair of compasses, the original of
+those which appear in the bronze at Plymouth.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image299-1.jpg" width="500" height="274" alt="LADY BLESSINGTON&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">LADY BLESSINGTON&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 358px;">
+<img src="images/image299-2.jpg" width="358" height="225" alt="MRS. CARLYLE&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MRS. CARLYLE&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 372px;">
+<img src="images/image299-3.jpg" width="372" height="250" alt="MRS. THORNYCROFT&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MRS. THORNYCROFT&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Reverting to the ladies again, interest will, no doubt, centre upon the
+hand of the celebrated Lady Blessington, accounted the wittiest hostess
+of her day; and not least attractive will appear Mrs. Carlyle's and
+those of Mrs. Thornycroft and the celebrated Madame Tussaud. The wife of
+the Chelsea sage was herself, as is known, an authoress of no mean
+repute.</p>
+
+<p>A comparison of the hand of Mr. Bancroft with that of Mr. Irving, given
+last month, will prove interesting, if not instructive.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 209px;">
+<img src="images/image299-4.jpg" width="209" height="350" alt="MME. TUSSAUD&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MME. TUSSAUD&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>It has been said that the hands of Carlyle are characteristic; that they
+possess, with those of Wilkie Collins, the merit of being precisely the
+sort of hands one would expect <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span>to see so labelled. We now present a
+third candidate for this merit of candour in casts of the hands of the
+notorious Arthur Orton, better known under the sobriquet of the
+Claimant. They are pulseless, chubby, oblique: yet they are remarkable.
+In scrutinizing them, it is difficult not to feel that one looks upon
+hands very remote indeed from the ordinary.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 359px;">
+<img src="images/image299-5.jpg" width="359" height="250" alt="MR. BANCROFT&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MR. BANCROFT&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 395px;">
+<img src="images/image300-1.jpg" width="395" height="400" alt="HANDS OF THE TICHBORNE CLAIMANT." title="" />
+<span class="caption">HANDS OF THE TICHBORNE CLAIMANT.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Next we look upon the hand of a giant even superior to Anak, in
+Loushkin, the Russian. But physically great as was the Muscovite, it is
+to be doubted if he really attained the world-wide celebrity of the
+little American, Charles Stratton (otherwise known as "Tom Thumb"),
+whose extremity serves as a foil to his rival for exhibition honours.</p>
+
+<p>Another Boehm relic requires some explanation. Every visitor to the
+Metropolis has doubtless seen and admired the heroic equestrian statue
+of the Duke of Wellington, opposite Apsley House. They may even have
+noticed the right hand, which is represented as lightly holding the rein
+of the animal. The appended was cast from the original model in clay of
+the hand of the Duke, no cast direct from life ever having been
+executed.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 286px;">
+<img src="images/image300-2.jpg" width="286" height="400" alt="THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>It is sufficient to say that the subjoined hand and arm of Lady
+Cardigan, wife of the noted Crimean warrior, was one greatly admired by
+Sir Edgar, in whose studio it hung for many years. In like manner will
+the hand of Lady Richard Grosvenor be found the possessor of many
+beautiful and interesting traits.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 548px;">
+<img src="images/image300-3.jpg" width="548" height="300" alt="THE HANDS OF &quot;TOM THUMB&quot; AND LOUSHKIN, THE RUSSIAN
+GIANT." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE HANDS OF &quot;TOM THUMB&quot; AND LOUSHKIN, THE RUSSIAN
+GIANT.</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image301-1.jpg" width="450" height="152" alt="LADY CARDIGAN&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">LADY CARDIGAN&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>A member not altogether dissimilar to that of the musician Liszt is the
+hand of Carl von Angeli, Court painter to Her Majesty, and like that
+also in setting at naught the conclusions too often arrived at by the
+chirognomist. For there is here breadth without symmetry, and an utter
+absence of the poise which we look for in the ideal hand of the artist.
+It is instructive to compare it to the hand of the painter, John
+Jackson.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/image301-2.jpg" width="400" height="172" alt="LADY RICHARD GROSVENOR&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">LADY RICHARD GROSVENOR&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 244px;">
+<img src="images/image301-3.jpg" width="244" height="350" alt="CARL ANGELI&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">CARL ANGELI&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Observe the massive, masculine fingers and disproportionately small
+finger-nails in the hands of Professor Weekes, the sculptor. There is
+scarcely any perceptible tapering at the third joint, and the fingers
+all exhibit very little prominence of knuckle or contour. It is anything
+but an artistic hand, and yet its owner was a man of the keenest
+artistic perceptions.</p>
+
+<p>In Frederick Baring's (Lord Ashburton) we find the thick-set fingers,
+and what the chirognomist calls the "lack of manual repose," of the
+great financier. But as his lordship was statesman with a talent for
+debate as well as man of commerce, it will not unlikely be found that
+the hand presented combines the both temperaments.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 372px;">
+<img src="images/image301-4.jpg" width="372" height="300" alt="PROFESSOR WEEKES&#39; HANDS." title="" />
+<span class="caption">PROFESSOR WEEKES&#39; HANDS.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 333px;">
+<img src="images/image301-5.jpg" width="333" height="250" alt="LORD ASHBURTON&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">LORD ASHBURTON&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>I have been enabled, through the kindness of Mr. J. T. Tussaud, to
+embellish the present collection by an ancient cast of the hand of the
+Comte<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> de Lorge, a famous prisoner in the Bastille. This cast was taken,
+together with a death mask, after death, by the great-grandmother of the
+sculptor, to whom both relics have descended.</p>
+
+<p>The Queen's hands, which appeared in the last issue of this Magazine,
+were cast by John Francis, a famous sculptor of the day. Mr. Hamo
+Thorneycroft, R.A., writes me to say that "While the moulds were being
+made Her Majesty removed all the rings from her fingers <i>except</i> the
+wedding ring. This she was most anxious should not come off, and was in
+considerable fear lest the moulding process might remove it."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 239px;">
+<img src="images/image302.jpg" width="239" height="393" alt="COMTE DE LORGE&#39;S HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">COMTE DE LORGE&#39;S HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>[<i>The original drawings of the illustrations in this Magazine are always
+on view, and on sale, in the Art Gallery at these offices, which is open
+to the public without charge.</i>]</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></p>
+<p><a name="Illustration_ROSITA" id="Illustration_ROSITA"></a></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;">
+<img src="images/image303.jpg" width="650" height="499" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">From the French of Pitre Chevalier.</span></h3>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+
+<p>It was harvest day at a house in the little village of Panola, in
+Castile, on the 25th of August, 1838. The great sheaves of corn had been
+borne, amidst universal rejoicing, to their resting-place in the
+granary. All the village inhabitants had shared in this pleasant task,
+and now, following an ancient custom, they had erected a trophy composed
+of a few last sheaves of corn, round which the young girls and men began
+to dance gaily, to the sound of guitars and castanets.</p>
+
+<p>Within the house, in a room which overlooked this charming scene, were
+two men.</p>
+
+<p>The first, seated at a table, was an old man over sixty, but enfeebled
+rather by cares than by age. His venerable head, crowned with white
+hair, drooped upon his breast with patriarchal dignity. The old man, who
+had been a soldier in the Spanish army, was Don Pedro de la Sarga, a
+Castilian as noble as he was poor. His companion was his son, Don
+Stephano, a young man of twenty, considered the most accomplished man in
+Panola. He was handsome; his warm, brown skin, his large, black eyes,
+the regular features, which wore that expression of national pride which
+distinguishes a Castilian from any other race, and his raven-black hair
+were eminently the Spanish type in all its grace and haughtiness. The
+young man wore the Spanish holiday costume, the richness of which has
+made travellers exclaim, more than once, that no European prince is
+clothed like a simple peasant of Castile. Stephano had on a short vest
+of black cloth, lined with yellow silk, ornamented with fringes and
+bunches of ribbons; an embroidered shirt with open collar revealing a
+waistcoat with gilt buttons, knee-breeches of black silk confined at the
+knees by bunches of ribbons, shoes and gaiters of fine brown leather,
+while a black felt hat with drooping plume completed his costume.</p>
+
+<p>Stephano's gloomy face contrasted with his gay attire. He leant against
+the open window, carelessly holding in his hand a bouquet of faded
+jasmine, whilst he gazed with melancholy eyes upon the festive scene
+before him, and only by a shake of the head and a sad smile replied to
+the light badinage of the dancers as they passed the window. But now and
+then his eyes lighted up, and he sighed deeply as a certain dancer,
+prettier than the rest, approached him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"How pretty she is!" he murmured, as he followed her retreating form.</p>
+
+<p>"Stephano!" called out the old man, who had been watching his son for
+some time.</p>
+
+<p>"How gracefully she dances," continued the handsome dreamer, wrapt in
+his thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>"Stephano!" repeated the old man.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, father," cried Stephano, with a start, and coming forward. "Do you
+wish to speak to me?"</p>
+
+<p>"From your mysterious air and endless sighs these last few days,
+Stephano, I conclude that you are in love," said his father.</p>
+
+<p>"In love!" stammered the young man. "You think I am in love?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do not think, my son&mdash;I am sure of it; and I have only one reproach
+to make to you, and that is that you have not made me a confidant of
+your secret before."</p>
+
+<p>"You shall know all, father," said Stephano, drawing a chair close to
+Don Pedro.</p>
+
+<p>"For the last month," he continued, "I have had in my heart a love which
+nothing can subdue, and the object of my passion is a young girl here, a
+glance from whose eyes is worth more to me than all the world besides;
+but she shuns my love, and on every occasion strives to avoid me. She
+hardly permits me to speak to her for fear that the passion she reads in
+my eyes will break into words."</p>
+
+<p>"Bah!" said the old man, merrily; "it is very likely that she shuns you
+for the reason of your not opening your mouth; you scare the young girl
+with your morose airs."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, if that were only true," sighed the disconsolate swain.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," said the old man, "there only remains for me to know the name of
+my future daughter-in-law."</p>
+
+<p>The young man was about to pronounce the name which already trembled on
+his lips when a sudden clamour interrupted the most interesting portion
+of this conversation. The peasants, followed by the partners, were
+rushing towards the house, and in the twinkling of an eye the room was
+filled with the animated and noisy throng. The new-comers wore rich
+costumes, more or less copies of Stephano's; some carried guitars,
+others castanets, while most of them leaned upon tall peeled rods,
+forked at the top, and ornamented with ribbons of all colours; each
+carried on the left side of his vest a bouquet similar to that of
+Stephano. The young girls in their silken bodices, short skirts, red
+stockings and mantillas, rattled their castanets as they entered with
+their partners. The joyous crowd surrounded Don Pedro, whilst cries of
+"Rosita! Rosita!" resounded from all sides.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, well, my children, what is it you want?" demanded the village
+Nestor of his clamorous audience.</p>
+
+<p>"We want Mlle. Rosita," they repeated.</p>
+
+<p>"What, my niece? But is she not with you? I thought it was she whom you
+were leading just now round the corn sheaves."</p>
+
+<p>"That is true," replied one of the foremost of the crowd; "everything
+went smoothly until we wished her to take part in our usual ceremony of
+'The Maiden's Choice.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Did you explain to her," asked the old man, "what is the ceremony?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, we told her all that was necessary: that it is an old custom in
+Panola on harvest day, after having escorted the daughter of the house
+round the last sheaves of corn, for all her admirers in the village to
+present her, each in his turn, with a bouquet; that she must then choose
+the one she loves amongst them by retaining his bouquet, whilst the
+others are rejected. She answered us by saying that she had only been in
+Panola a few months, and was therefore not forced to adopt our customs,
+and leaving us with these words she fled from us and escaped through the
+little granary door."</p>
+
+<p>"The little shrew!" Don Pedro exclaimed, who, like an amiable old man,
+was always on the side of the young folk. "But my friends," he added,
+"you are but poor Lotharios to be flouted by a young girl; you must
+follow her and bring her back."</p>
+
+<p>"That is just what we have done; but one cannot catch a bird without
+also having wings. She seemed to fly as we followed her, and on reaching
+the granary she entered and slammed the door in our faces; so we have
+come, as a last resource, to you, Don Pedro, to ask her to comply with
+our wishes."</p>
+
+<p>"You are right," replied the old man, with all the gravity of a judge,
+"you must be satisfied at once"; and he looked round for Don Stephano,
+who was standing more moody than ever behind a giggling group of young
+peasants.</p>
+
+<p>"My son," he said, "go and bring your cousin here. If she refuses, tell
+her that I particularly wish her to come."</p>
+
+<p>"I will go, father," said Stephano, after a second's hesitation; and he
+went out.</p>
+
+<p>There was a slight pause; then shouts and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> acclamations and rattling of
+castanets burst forth, as Rosita, with downcast eyes, entered the room,
+led by Stephano. Well might they welcome with fervour such a charming
+creature. Rosita was just eighteen. She wore upon her golden brown hair
+a black lace mantilla, which contrasted with her creamy complexion and
+the liquid depth of her large brown eyes. A brown velvet bodice showed
+off to perfection her slight yet rounded figure; and her silk skirts
+just revealed her pretty ankles and small feet in their silk stockings
+and neat shoes.</p>
+
+<p>Rosita was a native of Navarre. She had quitted Tafalla, her native
+village, on the death of her father and mother, who had been victims of
+the Civil War which at this time desolated the country, and had been
+conducted not without peril to her uncle's house at Panola, in which she
+had since taken up her abode.</p>
+
+<p>"Rosita," said Don Pedro to his niece, taking her hand, "I have made
+your apologies to your friends for the trick you have played them. It is
+your turn now to atone for your misdeed, by submitting to an old custom.
+Among the brave Castilians who surround you there are many suitors for
+your hand. There must be one among them whom you secretly favour. Your
+choice is entirely free, and even the favoured one after the ceremony
+will then have only the right to please you and to merit your hand."</p>
+
+<p>"But, uncle&mdash;&mdash;" faltered the young girl.</p>
+
+<p>"I will take no denial, my dear," interrupted the old man.</p>
+
+<p>Rosita strove in vain to protest, but her imperturbable uncle would not
+listen, and gave a sign to the peasants to begin the ceremony, in which
+he seemed to take as keen an interest as they did themselves. Thereupon
+the majority of the young men, darting furious glances of jealousy at
+one another, prepared for the contest. Rosita, at her uncle's side,
+stood at one end of the room. At her right and left were grouped the
+young peasant girls, admiring without envy the queen of the <i>f&ecirc;te</i>, and
+forming her court. Stephano stood behind with dejected mien. Those with
+guitars touched their instruments lightly now and then, and upon this
+scene, worthy of the pencil of Leopold Roberts, the sun, now setting at
+the horizon, cast a calm and solemn light.</p>
+
+<p>The first peasant who came forward was a tall young man, with a ruddy
+complexion.</p>
+
+<p>"My name is Geronimo Caldaroz, and I am twenty-five. It has been the
+talk of the village why I did not marry, and it has been said it was
+because I had never yet seen a maiden beautiful enough to please me. But
+now I have found her; it is you, Rosita. Will you accept my bouquet?" He
+presented his bouquet to the young girl, who blushed as she received it,
+and then let it fall.</p>
+
+<p>"Refused! Refused!" whispered the spectators, whilst the young man
+disappeared into the crowd, and a second one took his place. But the
+same thing occurred, and with the same result. Soon the jasmine bouquets
+covered the ground round the young girl's feet. The rejected suitors
+multiplied so fast that they could no longer hide their discomfiture
+amongst the others. Restless and smiling, Don Pedro wondered why his
+niece was so severe, and the remaining suitors seemed to hesitate
+whether to advance into the lists or not. Then the last three timidly
+advanced one by one toward Rosita. The two first were not even heard to
+the end of their speech, and then all eyes were fixed with interest upon
+the last. Rosita let him finish his discourse, took his bouquet, which
+she scrutinized demurely, and then uttering a deep sigh let it fall upon
+the amorous trophy piled at her feet.</p>
+
+<p>A murmur rose amongst the stupefied villagers. Don Pedro approached his
+niece.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, my child," he said, "have you thought of what you have done?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, uncle," Rosita replied. "Did you not tell me yourself that I was
+perfectly free?"</p>
+
+<p>"Free to choose, without doubt; but not to send all your suitors away."</p>
+
+<p>Rosita cast down her eyes and made no reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon me, father, but there still remains one," said Stephano,
+breaking the silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Where is he?" everyone asked at once.</p>
+
+<p>"Here he is."</p>
+
+<p>Rosita trembled so violently that she was compelled to lean for support
+upon her uncle's arm, and Don Pedro, more astonished than anyone, rushed
+towards his son.</p>
+
+<p>"What, Stephano?" he said joyfully. "It is your cousin whom&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, father," replied the young man. "It is she whom I love."</p>
+
+<p>In the midst of such general interest Stephano, pale with emotion,
+advanced towards his cousin.</p>
+
+<p>"Rosita, I love you," he said, simply. "Will you keep this bouquet which
+I offer to you?"</p>
+
+<p>The young man pronounced these words with a voice so sweet and
+expressive, and the gesture with which he offered the symbolic<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> flower
+was so imploring and passionate, that a sympathetic thrill ran through
+the spectators, and tears bedimmed Don Pedro's eyes.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 345px;">
+<img src="images/image306.jpg" width="345" height="450" alt="&quot;&#39;ROSITA, I LOVE YOU,&#39; HE SAID.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;&#39;ROSITA, I LOVE YOU,&#39; HE SAID.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Rosita, not less pale than her cousin, took the bouquet with a trembling
+hand, gazed upon it tenderly, then made a movement as if to throw it
+down, paused, and then at last, with head turned aside, let it fall.</p>
+
+<p>"Santa Maria! He also!" cried the crowd, mournfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Do not condemn me without hearing my justification," cried Rosita,
+turning to Don Pedro.</p>
+
+<p>"Your justification?" repeated Stephano, with relief.</p>
+
+<p>"Uncle," she said, after a pause, "there is a secret which I may have
+been wrong in concealing from you hitherto, but I must confide it to you
+alone."</p>
+
+<p>"To me!" cried the astonished old man.</p>
+
+<p>"I will come with you at once," and, seizing Rosita's hand, he led her
+away, making signs to the peasants as he did so to disperse.</p>
+
+<p>Stephano strolled out to breathe the air upon the hills, whose shadows
+were beginning to slope down into the valley. The sky was lighted only
+by the afterglow of the red, sunken sun; the evening breeze carried
+along in the warm air the perfume of the jasmine flowers and orange
+groves in bloom, and no sound was heard but the music of guitars and
+castanets, mingled sometimes with the faint tinkle of sheep bells.</p>
+
+<p>When Stephano re-entered he found his father and cousin in the lower
+hall. Rosita, on perceiving him, made a pretext for rising, and
+hurriedly left the room. Don Pedro and his son were left alone.</p>
+
+<p>"One word, father," said Stephano. "Does Rosita love me, and will she
+also become my wife?"</p>
+
+<p>"You must forget Rosita," replied the old man. "You must tear from your
+heart even the remembrance of your love."</p>
+
+<p>The young man abandoned himself to despair.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall never forget her," he said, passionately. "My love for Rosita
+will only cease with my life."</p>
+
+<p>And he rushed from the room, leaving the old man wondering.</p>
+
+
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+<p>For some weeks the inmates of Don Pedro's house were forced to remain
+prisoners, for rebel soldiers filled the neighbouring villages, and
+troops of guerillas were being<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> mustered to put them to flight. It was a
+morning, early in September, just after the sun had peered above the
+horizon. A fine rain had fallen during the night, and the drops which
+rested on the foliage sparkled like myriads of diamonds. The streets
+were as yet deserted; some muleteers alone passed along them at
+intervals. Don Pedro's house was the only one astir.</p>
+
+<p>Don Stephano, according to his custom, had risen with the dawn, and was
+now alone in the lower hall, standing opposite the window which
+overlooked the high road. He was occupied in fixing an iron lance upon a
+wooden rod, at which he gazed abstractedly.</p>
+
+<p>The sound of a voice filling the air with song attracted his attention;
+it was singing the Moorish romance of "Adlemar and Adalifa," and to the
+quick perception of a Spanish ear was marked with a slight Ultramontaine
+accent, which Stephano discerned like a true Castilian. Without moving
+he listened to the song which awoke the echoes of the valley. The
+amorous words recalled to Stephano's mind the thought of Rosita, and he
+sighed deeply. Then he listened anew to the voice, which grew nearer and
+nearer, and in which, in spite of its strange accent, he seemed to hear
+an understrain of singular emotion. His conjectures were not long,
+however. A man enveloped in a large mantle peered in at the open window,
+and after throwing a rapid glance behind him leapt into the room.
+Stephano recoiled at the sight of such a strange visitor, and felt
+tempted to seize the man, whom he took at first for a robber. Then a
+troop of horsemen dashed past the house. The stranger gave a sigh of
+relief. Then for the first time he caught sight of Stephano.</p>
+
+<p>"I must be careful," the soldier muttered, as he drew his cloak more
+carefully round him. "This Spaniard does not look over benevolent."</p>
+
+<p>"Who can this man be?" thought Stephano, as he instinctively put his
+hand on his pistols; but on seeing the stranger advance towards him with
+a pleasant smile, he paused.</p>
+
+<p>"Noble Castilian," said the stranger, "are you a man to oblige an enemy
+in peril, and who for a quarter of an hour wishes you no more harm than
+if you were his brother?"</p>
+
+<p>Before replying, Stephano scrutinized his questioner. He saw before him
+a man of about twenty-eight, with a frank face and light hair and
+moustache. His accent, and the blue pantaloons which appeared under the
+brown mantle, proclaimed him a Frenchman.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 326px;">
+<img src="images/image307.jpg" width="326" height="450" alt="&quot;THE STRANGER.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THE STRANGER.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"No unarmed man is my enemy," replied Stephano, "and from the moment my
+roof was over your head you became my guest."</p>
+
+<p>"Shake hands on it! You are a fine fellow," cried the soldier, holding
+out his hand. At the same time he drew aside his mantle, and Stephano
+recognised the uniform worn by the French volunteers of Don Carlos's
+army. "Now, if you have a drop of anything to drink handy, I will tell
+you in a few words what has brought me here."</p>
+
+<p>Stephano opened the sideboard, and brought out a bottle and glasses. The
+soldier wiped his moustache as he began.</p>
+
+<p>"You see before you," he said, with frank abruptness, "Charles
+Dulaurier, a soldier by birth and profession, lieutenant in the
+Grenadiers of His Majesty Charles V.&mdash;pardon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> me, Don Carlos. Being
+stationed some few miles from here, I asked for leave of absence this
+morning to join some troops which (pardon me) are going to make a raid
+upon this very village this morning. But, thanks to my foolhardiness in
+starting off alone, I soon found myself in the hands of guerillas. I
+escaped. They pursued me. But I, though alone in a strange country and
+unarmed, led them a nice dance for half an hour. I was just about to
+fall again into their hands when I came in sight of this house. I duped
+them by my ruse of pitching my voice in such a manner as to lead them to
+think I was beyond the village, whilst I at the same time took refuge
+here. To conclude, my worthy fellow, no doubt the guerillas are not
+blind, and not finding any trace of me upon the route, will return to
+Panola. Consequently, if you are a host to my liking you will&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Conceal you," said Stephano, quickly. "You are right!" and he glanced
+round with uneasiness. The lieutenant struck him on the shoulder. "One
+minute," he said; "the guerillas cannot reappear for half an hour. This
+little expedition, as you may imagine, was not my only motive for coming
+to Panola, and I must again abuse your patience in asking you some
+questions upon a certain subject which is the motive of my expedition."</p>
+
+<p>"Go on," replied Stephano, with resignation.</p>
+
+<p>"I came here to look for a young girl," said the Frenchman, twisting his
+moustache, "and as, perhaps, you will be so good as to give me some
+information on this point, it would be better for you to know the story.
+Last year my regiment, after a vigorous resistance, entered a village in
+Navarre."</p>
+
+<p>"A village in Navarre?" repeated Stephano, and his brow darkened.</p>
+
+<p>"One house had been so well defended, indeed, that it was found
+necessary to surround it, and our infuriated soldiers, drunk with
+carnage, determined to massacre everyone within. I luckily surprised
+them as they drew their sabres upon two poor old creatures and their
+young daughter. I threw myself between the victims and their butchers;
+the wretches turned upon me and I fell wounded by a bayonet thrust, but
+they were saved. The kind people who owed me their lives bore me to
+their house, and gave me every care. The young girl watched at my
+bedside for more than a fortnight. Briefly the beauty, the tenderness of
+the little girl, won my heart. Losing no time, I declared my passion.
+She whispered, blushing, that I might speak to her parents. As soon as I
+was well enough to walk, I hastened to the worthy old man, who, after
+the shock he had received, became mortally ill, and felt his end
+approach. I had no sooner asked him for his daughter's hand than he
+exclaimed, 'God be praised! I shall not now die without having
+recompensed our deliverer.' At the same time he took the young girl's
+hand and mine, and, after making us exchange rings, clasped them
+together. Then he stretched forth his trembling hands above our heads to
+bless us, whilst on our knees by the bedside we swore eternal fidelity
+to each other. Three days after the good man died, and the same day my
+regiment left for Castile. Seven months passed without my hearing any
+news from my betrothed, and it was only by chance I learned that on her
+mother's death she had quitted Navarre to take up her abode in her
+uncle's house at Panola.</p>
+
+<p>"But what is the matter?" said the lieutenant, as Stephano rose
+hurriedly.</p>
+
+<p>"I know enough," replied the young man in a hollow voice. "The village
+was Tafalla, and the young girl's name is Rosita."</p>
+
+<p>"But what is there in that?" cried the lieutenant, who understood
+nothing of Stephano's emotion. "You know Rosita? She is here? You are
+silent. Heavens! Is she dead&mdash;or married?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," replied Stephano, with an effort. "Rosita is here. No doubt
+she loves you and watches for your return with impatience."</p>
+
+<p>"Where, then, shall I find my betrothed?"</p>
+
+<p>Stephano was about to reply to this question when the tramp of horses
+was heard. It was the troop returning.</p>
+
+<p>"Softly!" whispered Dulaurier as he crept towards the window. "Yes,
+these are my friends. Where will you hide me?"</p>
+
+<p>Stephano regarded him with a savage gleam in his eyes and muttered to
+himself, "This man comes here to blast my happiness, and I must protect
+his life at the peril of my own."</p>
+
+<p>"What am I to do?" repeated Dulaurier.</p>
+
+<p>"Take this dagger," said Stephano, "put on your mantle and follow me."
+He unfastened a little door which opened upon a staircase which led into
+the garden, and descended, followed by Dulaurier. They stole along
+behind a thick hedge of hawthorn until they came to the trees of a
+little orchard, from which rose the roof of a ruined summer-house. On
+reaching this spot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> Stephano installed the lieutenant so that he could
+watch both the road and the garden; then having arranged upon the course
+they should take, Stephano hastened back to the house.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 448px;">
+<img src="images/image309.jpg" width="448" height="450" alt="&quot;THEY STOLE ALONG.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THEY STOLE ALONG.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Don Pedro was in the lower hall, alone, when his son entered.</p>
+
+<p>"I have a request to make to you," said the young man, clasping his
+father's hand convulsively. "I want you to let me start at once to join
+my brothers and to fight for Spain."</p>
+
+<p>"Can you then leave your cousin?" said Don Pedro, sadly. "And you do not
+know&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I know more than you, father, more than Rosita herself about this
+affair," interrupted Stephano. "Is not Rosita betrothed to a French
+volunteer in Don Carlos's army, and is this not the secret she confided
+to you on harvest day?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is true. But how have you discovered it?"</p>
+
+<p>"From a man flying from the pursuit of guerillas; no other than the man
+himself, Lieutenant Charles Dulaurier!"</p>
+
+<p>"Is it possible?" exclaimed the stupefied old man.</p>
+
+<p>"You see, father, that it is absolutely necessary for me to go," cried
+Stephano. "I cannot wait until Rosita and Dulaurier are united. Their
+happiness would be more than I could bear, and I have thought of a plan
+by which the lieutenant can be saved without putting off my departure. I
+shall join the troop of guerillas who are seeking Dulaurier in the
+village. Seeing me become one of themselves their suspicions will be
+lulled, and I shall save my rival by departing with his enemies."</p>
+
+<p>"You are right," replied his father, after a painful pause, but he could
+not utter a word more.</p>
+
+<p>The young man proceeded to take down from the wall his pistols and his
+gun; he placed the former in his belt and the latter on his shoulder,
+took his hat and stepped forward to bid his father farewell. But as he
+threw himself into the arms of the weeping old man, the door opened and
+Rosita entered.</p>
+
+<p>The young girl glanced quickly from one to the other, and then her eyes
+remained fixed on Stephano.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you going to do?" she asked, examining his equipment.</p>
+
+<p>"I am going away," replied Stephano. "Farewell, Rosita, be happy.
+Farewell, father," he added, embracing Don Pedro.</p>
+
+<p>"He is going," said Rosita, her eyes dim with tears, "without one
+friendly smile, without one clasp of his hand. Oh! Stephano," she
+exclaimed, springing forward. "You cannot part from me thus!"</p>
+
+<p>"You are keeping me!" said the bewildered young man.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she replied, seizing his hand. "Stay, Stephano, do not go. I
+implore you!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Remain!" cried the young man, passionately. "Remain to see you in the
+arms of another? Never!"</p>
+
+<p>As he moved towards the door, Rosita sprang towards him with
+outstretched arms. "And what if it is you whom I love, Stephano? What if
+I have never loved anyone but you?" A thunderbolt would hardly have
+produced more effect than did these words.</p>
+
+<p>"You love me?" he repeated, approaching his cousin. "Rosita, for mercy's
+sake, repeat those words once more, so that I may be sure of having
+heard aright."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I love you," repeated the young girl, tenderly; "no one but you!
+Will you stay now?"</p>
+
+<p>"For ever, if you wish it!" cried the enraptured youth, throwing down
+his gun and pistols. "Look at me, Rosita, that I may read in your eyes
+that word which gives me life, and which I have waited for so long. How
+blind and foolish I have been! But that will be all right now, will it
+not, my beloved?" As he spoke he embraced her passionately. By both of
+them the world was forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>Through the open window came the clink of spurs and rattling of sabres.
+This sound, to which Stephano and Rosita were deaf, struck on the ear of
+Don Pedro and paralyzed him with terror.</p>
+
+<p>"Stephano!" he cried at last. "Remember Lieutenant Dulaurier!"</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 465px;">
+<img src="images/image310.jpg" width="465" height="450" alt="&quot;REMEMBER LIEUTENANT DULAURIER!&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;REMEMBER LIEUTENANT DULAURIER!&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Ah!" groaned Stephano, rudely torn from his ecstasy of happiness; and
+he fixed his gaze upon his cousin.</p>
+
+<p>The girl had not even heard Don Pedro.</p>
+
+<p>"Rosita," said her lover, "you say you love me, but you have a
+<i>fianc&eacute;!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>"Dulaurier!" cried the startled girl. "Great Heaven! pardon me, I had
+forgotten."</p>
+
+<p>"If this man," continued Stephano, "came here to claim your promise, you
+would reply, would you not, that friendship alone, not love, had drawn
+you towards him, and that your hand, promised when you hardly knew what
+you did, would now be given without your heart?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that is what I should answer; but he is not likely to come here,
+Stephano."</p>
+
+<p>"And what if he were here already?" asked an impressive voice.</p>
+
+<p>Don Pedro at the same time stepped forward between the young people, and
+before the severe face of the Spaniard their eyes drooped.</p>
+
+<p>"Father!" faltered the young man.</p>
+
+<p>"Silence!" cried the old man. "Your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> duty is clear. What if Dulaurier
+were in the house, Rosita&mdash;what if, more faithful than you, he had come
+to claim his promise, made at the death-bed of your father? I ask you
+what you would answer."</p>
+
+<p>Trembling and submissive as a criminal before his judge, the young girl
+turned her eyes from Stephano to Don Pedro.</p>
+
+<p>"I should reply to Lieutenant Dulaurier that, before God and man, I am
+his betrothed bride, and that while he lives no other can be my
+husband."</p>
+
+<p>"Come then, my child, prepare to receive your <i>fianc&eacute;</i>," and Don Pedro
+held out his hand to his niece to lead her away.</p>
+
+<p>"You are destroying my happiness!" cried Stephano.</p>
+
+<p>"But in return I give you back your honour," replied Don Pedro. "Look
+after the lieutenant, for here come the guerillas!" and he went out.</p>
+
+<p>"What a dream, and what an awakening!" murmured Stephano as he was left
+alone. "Rosita vows she loves me, and at the same time declares she will
+never be mine while Dulaurier lives. <i>While he lives!</i> And I must take
+upon myself the peril of saving him, when I have only to let him&mdash;&mdash;Oh,
+how despair tempts us to horrible deeds! Is there time to fly, to quit
+this spot where each thought is torture: to hasten and join the
+guerillas before they enter the house? For, alas! if they enter now and
+demand where their enemy is&mdash;by Heaven! I shall not have the strength to
+resist&mdash;I must fly!"</p>
+
+<p>Picking up his gun and pistols he rushed towards the door, but recoiled
+at the sight of a man in the uniform of a captain of guerillas, who by a
+gesture forced him to pause.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 283px;">
+<img src="images/image311.jpg" width="283" height="500" alt="&quot;IT IS TOO LATE!&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;IT IS TOO LATE!&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Malediction&mdash;it is too late!" murmured the young man, as he dropped
+upon a chair, and let his unheeded weapons fall to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>"Two sentinels before each door and window," called out the captain to
+the soldiers who followed him. "This is the last house in which our
+prisoner could take refuge," he continued, striking impatiently the butt
+end of his rifle upon the ground. "Search well, comrades; you know he
+who takes the Frenchman prisoner is to have the honour of firing the
+first shot upon him, and is also to receive twenty douros for reward."
+Thereupon he advanced into the room. "Well, my good fellow," he said to
+Stephano; "what are you going to do with these weapons? Are they to
+defend yourself or to protect the officer whom you have hidden here?"</p>
+
+<p>"No one is hidden in this house," replied the young man, with the
+courage which peril bestows. "The La Sargas are known throughout the
+country to be devoted to Spain and the Queen. I have three brothers in
+the national army, and I have just picked up these weapons with the
+intention of joining your troops."</p>
+
+<p>The captain looked at him with a sneering smile. Then he turned to his
+companions, who had just returned from searching the house.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, have you found anything?"</p>
+
+<p>"Only a young girl and an old man," was the reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Bring the old man here," said the captain; then he turned to Stephano.
+"And you, sir, go with my lieutenant and these three men, and show them
+every room there is"; then he murmured in the lieutenant's ear,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span>
+slipping at the same time a purse of gold into his hand: "Spare neither
+threats nor persuasion to gain this young man over to our side. Whatever
+it costs, I must recapture our prisoner."</p>
+
+<p>Stephano felt tempted to resist these orders, but he reflected that this
+would only draw suspicion upon him, and he led the way up the stairs,
+which were placed in a corner of the room.</p>
+
+<p>At the same time Don Pedro entered, guarded by two soldiers and leaning
+on his staff. Then an interval ensued, and the minutes flew past.
+Suddenly a pistol shot was heard. Everyone gave a start of alarm. Then
+one of the guards who had gone out with Stephano came rushing down the
+stairs and into the room.</p>
+
+<p>"The bird is snared, or will be in a few minutes," he cried. "Our
+prisoner," he continued, pointing through the window, "is in that
+building which you see at the bottom of the garden."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know this?" asked the captain.</p>
+
+<p>"From the young man who is upstairs with the lieutenant."</p>
+
+<p>"From Stephano!" cried the old man, growing pale with horror.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, ah!" laughed the captain, "your son does not seem very hard to
+persuade."</p>
+
+<p>"The lieutenant having discovered nothing," the man went on, "told three
+of us to go and search the granary, and took advantage of the occasion
+to take the young man aside. I watched them. A purse of gold and the
+barrel of a pistol have been the principal inducements. The sly fellow
+at first was very obstinate, and it was then that the lieutenant fired
+the pistol at him to frighten him. The young man seemed to be moved in a
+singular manner by the shot. He gave way with good grace, and pointed
+the pavilion out to us."</p>
+
+<p>Whilst the captain lent a joyful ear to this narrative, Don Pedro, on
+the contrary, listened with terror mingled with incredulity. At these
+last words he could contain himself no longer, and broke in violently:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Enough, wretch; enough!" he cried. "What you say is impossible! It is
+an infamous calumny! My son is quite incapable of such villainy!"</p>
+
+<p>"Look, senor," replied the man, pointing to the stairs.</p>
+
+<p>Stephano in truth was descending with the lieutenant, holding the purse
+in his hand. His pale and agitated face seemed to proclaim his guilt,
+and Don Pedro sank back fainting on a seat. Stephano crossed the room
+with a faltering step without observing his father, and, reaching the
+window, gazed out upon the road.</p>
+
+<p>In recalling to mind his son's jealousy of Dulaurier, Don Pedro
+understood the facts of the matter&mdash;that he had sold his guest to get
+rid of a detested rival. Maddened by passion, he had without doubt lost
+all control over himself. After having exchanged some words in a low
+voice with his lieutenant, the captain made a sign to two of his men.</p>
+
+<p>"Remain with this fellow," he said, in a tone of contempt, pointing to
+Stephano, "until we reach the pavilion; if he makes one movement shoot
+him, and when a volley announces to you that we are not deceived, join
+us to start upon our route."</p>
+
+<p>"Very good, captain," answered the two soldiers, taking up their
+position on each side of Stephano, whilst the others went out softly.</p>
+
+<p>A mournful silence reigned in the chamber.</p>
+
+<p>Stephano stood erect before the window, with haggard eyes fixed upon the
+road; Don Pedro, mute and motionless in his chair, seemed like a man
+bereft of all at a single blow. Then, his misery overwhelming him, he
+covered his face with his hands and wept. Stephano turned round quickly,
+and for the first time saw his father.</p>
+
+<p>"Great Heavens! He was there, and heard all!" he murmured. "Father!" he
+cried imploringly.</p>
+
+<p>"Call me your father no more," cried the old man, with flaming eyes,
+"unless you can tell me that I am blind and deaf, or that I have dreamed
+that my son was a coward, a traitor, an assassin! Tell me so, Stephano,
+for pity's sake!"</p>
+
+<p>The young man made an effort as if he were about to speak, but paused at
+the sight of his two guards; the strain was so painful that he was
+forced to lean for support on one of the guerilla's arms. Then he turned
+away; Don Pedro rose from his seat and came towards his son.</p>
+
+<p>"His eye never quits this fatal window," he murmured to himself. "It
+looks as if he watched to see the success of his perfidy, that he wishes
+to assure himself that his rival does not escape. Wretch!" he burst
+forth, "if this is so, may you be&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly a hand was laid softly upon the old man's arm. It was Rosita.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! it is you, Rosita!" said Don Pedro with a bewildered stare.
+"Wretched man that I am, what was I about to do?" he added, passing his
+hand over his forehead.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Rosita came farther forward into the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Stephano guarded by two soldiers!" she cried. "Holy Virgin! what does
+this mean, and what has happened?"</p>
+
+<p>And she made an instinctive movement towards her cousin. Her uncle
+stopped her.</p>
+
+<p>"Keep away from this wretched man!" he cried, "for he is a coward and a
+traitor; he has betrayed your betrothed!"</p>
+
+<p>"Betrayed my betrothed!" cried the girl, with horror. "It is
+impossible!"</p>
+
+<p>"Not only has he betrayed him," continued the old man, taking his
+niece's hand, "but he is watching for the success of his treason. Do you
+recognise my son, Rosita?" he added, with heartrending despair, "or the
+man whom you loved?"</p>
+
+<p>Here the poor old man broke down completely, and sank back into his
+chair. The girl gazed at him with consternation. Even the rough soldiers
+were touched by the scene, and turned their heads aside.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 435px;">
+<img src="images/image313.jpg" width="435" height="450" alt="&quot;THE POOR OLD MAN BROKE DOWN COMPLETELY.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THE POOR OLD MAN BROKE DOWN COMPLETELY.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>At that instant a loud report shook the walls. It was the captain's
+volley. The two soldiers exchanged a meaning glance and disappeared. As
+soon as they went out Rosita threw herself in Don Pedro's arms.</p>
+
+<p>"Dulaurier is dead!" said the old man, gloomily.</p>
+
+<p>"He is saved!" cried Stephano, coming forward, and throwing from him as
+he did so the purse of gold. "Yes, father, yes, Rosita, the lieutenant
+is safe and sound, and will be with us in a few seconds."</p>
+
+<p>"How can that be?" cried Don Pedro, passing from despair to joy.</p>
+
+<p>"Before leaving Dulaurier in the pavilion we had arranged that he was to
+be informed by a pistol shot when he must leave his hiding-place for the
+granary whilst his enemies were searching the pavilion. You understand
+now how the guerilla's shot agitated me. For, of course, Dulaurier,
+taking the report for the signal agreed upon, would leave the pavilion
+for the granary, and would then fall into the hands of his pursuers. The
+only plan to save him was to get the soldiers away from the granary,
+which I did by feigning to betray Dulaurier, by accepting the purse, and
+pointing out the pavilion as his hiding-place. For a quarter of an hour
+I have endured the tortures of hell, but I have saved the man who
+confided in me, and I am still worthy of you both!"</p>
+
+<p>The young man had hardly finished his narrative when his father and
+Rosita were at his feet begging for forgiveness. Then Stephano hastened
+to the granary, and called the lieutenant's name, but there was no
+response, and soon Stephano's surprise was changed to uneasiness. He
+rushed into the granary. It was empty. Stephano reappeared, pale,
+tottering and breathless.</p>
+
+<p>"Dulaurier is not in the granary," he cried. "He cannot have taken the
+pistol shot for my signal. He must have remained, and that report we
+heard was his death-shot."</p>
+
+<p>He paused abruptly. Don Pedro and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> Rosita understood, and burst forth
+into an exclamation of horror.</p>
+
+<p>"Victory! Victory!" cried a hundred voices.</p>
+
+<p>Their despair and consternation were changed to the most lively
+astonishment, when a detachment of Don Carlos's volunteers entered the
+house, led by Dulaurier himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Dulaurier!" exclaimed Stephano, Don Pedro, and Rosita at the same time.</p>
+
+<p>"Our enemies!" said the old Castilian, whilst his niece shrank behind
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Say rather friends," replied Dulaurier, pressing Stephano's hand
+warmly.</p>
+
+<p>"But how has all this happened?" began the bewildered Stephano.</p>
+
+<p>"One minute's attention. For half an hour I waited patiently after your
+departure in the little pavilion, when I heard the signal we arranged on
+of the pistol shot. I quitted my hiding-place at once, and was preparing
+to creep towards the granary, when, casting a glance upon the road, I
+recognised the uniforms of the volunteers of my regiment. Briefly,"
+continued Dulaurier, showing the soldiers who surrounded him, "here are
+the gentlemen, whom I have the honour of presenting to you. Like good
+comrades, they determined to avenge me, and we caught the guerillas in
+an ambush as they were searching the pavilion. Bang! a general
+discharge, and thirty men were lying on the ground, and the rest running
+away for their lives."</p>
+
+<p>"The volley of which we believed you the victim!" interrupted Stephano.</p>
+
+<p>"You understand the rest. Not wishing to quit Panola without thanking
+you, and also wishing to see about that little matter which I mentioned
+to you this morning, we came on here. And now," he added to Stephano,
+with the air of a man who has no time to lose, "I must thank you most
+warmly for all you have done for me."</p>
+
+<p>There was such a tone of kindness in these words that Stephano could do
+nothing but grasp his hand cordially in return.</p>
+
+<p>"Anyone else?" cried the effusive officer, looking quickly round. "You
+have a father, a mother, a wife, perhaps? Where are they? This noble old
+man must be your father," and upon Stephano's making an affirmative sign
+he grasped the old man's hand, and wrung it with force.</p>
+
+<p>"Are there no ladies in your family?" asked Dulaurier with a gallant
+air.</p>
+
+<p>It was then that in spite of Rosita's efforts to avoid his attention he
+caught sight of her as she hid behind Don Pedro's high-backed chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! here is one!" he said, without recognising his betrothed. He
+stepped forward towards her.</p>
+
+<p>"Most amiable senora," he began politely, "permit me&mdash;&mdash;" He paused,
+gazing with stupefied eyes upon the young girl, and then made a sign to
+his soldiers to leave them.</p>
+
+<p>"Good Heavens!" he exclaimed, "if I am not deceived it is Rosita, my
+pretty <i>fianc&eacute;e</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>"You are right; it is I, Monsieur Dulaurier," faltered the young girl.</p>
+
+<p>The light of happiness vanished from all the faces in the room except
+the lieutenant's.</p>
+
+<p>"You can easily understand, my pretty one, what has led me to Panola,"
+said Dulaurier.</p>
+
+<p>"I presume you have come to remind Rosita," answered Don Pedro, "of the
+promise that she gave you at her dying father's bedside. She has not
+forgotten it, senor. She recognises her duty, and you have only one word
+to say&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Will you answer me yourself, Rosita?" interrupted Dulaurier, marking
+her extreme pallor and agitation. "You know what I have the right of
+claiming; are you still able to give it me freely?"</p>
+
+<p>"Without doubt," she murmured; "if I give you my hand, my heart will go
+with it."</p>
+
+<p>"Words, nothing but words!" thought the lieutenant, who grew pale in his
+turn. "All women are weathercocks. It is clear I am superseded," and he
+bit his lip until it bled. "But I should like to know who is my
+substitute," and he turned mechanically to Stephano. He found him as
+mute and as troubled as Rosita. The truth flashed across him. "I cannot
+blame the brave young man," he murmured to himself, "for falling in love
+with his cousin. It has not prevented him from saving my life at the
+expense of his love and honour, and as I have no wish for a heart not
+wholly mine, I have now to render sacrifice for sacrifice, and to keep
+the reputation of France equal to that of Spain." He turned to Rosita
+with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Mademoiselle," he began, "when we plighted our troth, and I told you
+that I loved you devotedly, I was as sincere as I am to-day, only I took
+upon myself too much, and have contracted several other engagements,
+more or less similar to yours." He gave a forced laugh as he pronounced
+these words.</p>
+
+<p>"That is enough, senor," said Don Pedro. "But why have you then come to
+Panola to claim her promise?"</p>
+
+<p>"Who said that I was here for that purpose?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> asked Dulaurier, abruptly.
+Stephano, indeed, recollected that the Frenchman had not said a single
+word which implied that he came to claim Rosita's hand. "I implore
+Mademoiselle Rosita to pardon me," pursued Dulaurier, "and I propose
+that we exchange rings again."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 494px;">
+<img src="images/image315.jpg" width="494" height="450" alt="&quot;I PROPOSE THAT WE EXCHANGE RINGS AGAIN.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;I PROPOSE THAT WE EXCHANGE RINGS AGAIN.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>It was no sooner said than done. Dulaurier turned and clasped Stephano's
+hand again, and now the young man saw with apprehension that Dulaurier's
+eyes were dim with tears. Dulaurier could keep up the farce no longer,
+and his heart was breaking behind the smile upon his lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Dulaurier!" said the young man, "you weep: you are unhappy! What you
+have said has been only a sublime falsehood! You love Rosita&mdash;you wish
+to marry her&mdash;and if you have the generosity to renounce all for me, it
+must not be at the expense of your happiness."</p>
+
+<p>"Hush!" said Dulaurier, as he took him aside. "Do not undo my work. But
+since you have found it out, you are right. I did come back to claim
+Rosita. I have always loved her, and have loved none but her. But do not
+breathe a word of this. Let no thought of my unhappiness cast a shadow
+on her life. Sacrifice for sacrifice, young man. France is equal to
+Spain, and we are quits.</p>
+
+<p>"Farewell, brave Castilians," he cried aloud, "celebrate the marriage
+merrily: and let us hope that we shall never meet upon the battlefield
+of this unhappy country."</p>
+
+<p>"Farewell!" replied Stephano, huskily.</p>
+
+<p>Dulaurier pressed Don Pedro's and Stephano's hands, kissed that of
+Rosita, and joined his comrades outside.</p>
+
+<p>"Wheel to the right&mdash;forward!" he shouted, at the head of his battalion.</p>
+
+<p>Then came the roll of the drum, and they all marched past the window.</p>
+
+<p>"Rosita," said Stephano to his cousin, "you are free, and we are going
+to be happy; but never let us forget Lieutenant Dulaurier!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="The_Queer_Side_of_Things" id="The_Queer_Side_of_Things"></a><i>The Queer Side of Things.</i></h2>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;">
+<img src="images/image316.jpg" width="650" height="411" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Let us return for a space to the two spirits William and James, whose
+conversations we described in past numbers. Some readers may possibly
+recall how the spirit James, while wandering through the darkness of
+unoccupied Space (about five-and-twenty billions of eons before the
+commencement of Eternity), conceived a wild idea of the possibility of
+the existence of worlds&mdash;worlds occupied by an impracticability called
+"man." It will be recollected how the wiser spirit William cast
+well-merited ridicule upon this insanely impossible phantasy of a
+disordered mind; nay, even condescended to crush, by perspicuous and
+irrefutable logic, the grotesque and preposterous idea.</p>
+
+<p>Very well; it is now William's turn.</p>
+
+<p>"James," he said one day as they chanced to sight each other in the
+awful solitude of Space, "I have been thinking over that world of yours,
+and your crowning absurdity, 'man.' Pray do not become too inflated with
+weak conceit at my condescending to think about such trivialities; for
+the fact is, any subject of thought&mdash;however hopelessly foolish&mdash;is a
+relief amid the tediousness of Space. Well, I have been reflecting upon
+that characteristic which you conceive as distinguishing your puppet
+'man'&mdash;I allude to <i>intelligence</i>. I think you suggested that he would
+possess intelligence?"</p>
+
+<p>James only fidgeted uneasily, and made a feeble sign of affirmation.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," continued William. "Now, I have been putting two and two
+together, and have found out the nature of that quality which you
+mistake for intelligence; its true name is 'low cunning.' Every fresh
+piece of absurdity which you have told me touching the tricks of your
+queer creatures has supplied new evidence of this. Your creatures were
+to feed upon the substance of the 'world' on which they lived, and, ever
+increasing in numbers, would logically in course of time find there was
+not a mouthful apiece. I think we agreed about that? Well, let us
+consider that period, some time before the creatures should actually
+become exterminated by the natural evolution of events&mdash;the time when
+all the eatable products of their world would be growing scarce. You
+went so far as to imagine a great many products&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes!" said James, gazing afar off in the absorption of his imagination.
+"Yes&mdash;there were eggs, and oysters, and poultry, and mushrooms, and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!&mdash;the very things I've been reflecting about. Well, I've been
+dreaming that, at the period of which I speak, when all the commodities
+were becoming scarce, your human beings would agree to make poisonous
+artificial articles of consumption with which to poison themselves by
+degrees, and thus reduce the population to convenient limits."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No!" cried James, pondering deeply. "Their idea would be to poison not
+<i>themselves</i>, but <i>each other</i>!"</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 410px;">
+<img src="images/image317-1.jpg" width="410" height="300" alt="&quot;POISON.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;POISON.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Ah! I see. Then they would make some sort of effort to prevent
+themselves being poisoned?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes; they would pass Adulteration Acts for the purpose."</p>
+
+<p>"I see; and any creature who did not wish to be poisoned could take
+advantage of these Acts to protect himself?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly. The Acts would be very stringent. Let us suppose, for
+example, that a certain man suspected that the butter supplied to him
+was not butter at all, but a deleterious compound&mdash;well, all he would
+have to do would be to go to the shop, accompanied by a guardian of the
+peace, and, standing on one leg, with both hands on the counter and one
+eye shut, order a pound of the butter in certain words prescribed by the
+Act. He would then say to the tradesman, 'I am about to divide this
+pound of butter into three equal portions for the purposes of analysis';
+and, taking the butter-man's knife in his left hand, and passing it to
+his right, would cut the butter into three portions exactly equal.</p>
+
+<p>"After this, hermetically sealing the three portions in three jars
+provided for the purpose, he would hand one jar to the tradesman, the
+second to the guardian of the peace, and retain the third. Then he would
+bring an action; and (provided that all the conditions had been
+accurately fulfilled, without the slightest flaw) the erring tradesman
+would be told by the Court not to do it again; while the complainant
+would have to pay all costs, and possibly a fine; and would be sneered
+at by the magistrate as a fussy idiot and a common informer.</p>
+
+<p>"If, on the other hand, the complainant should omit to secure the
+company of a custodian of the peace, or fail to stand on one leg with
+both hands on the counter, or take the knife in his right hand first, or
+should leave out the prescribed words, or blink his eye, or stammer, or
+sneeze, or in any other way fail to observe the regulations of the Act;
+he would, of course, have no case or remedy. The Adulteration Acts would
+be extremely stringent&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Against the victim of adulteration?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ye&mdash;es," murmured James, a little nonplussed.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 572px;">
+<img src="images/image317-2.jpg" width="572" height="450" alt="&quot;THE SHOP.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THE SHOP.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Ah&mdash;well, then, I think we can afford to ignore these Adulteration
+Acts&mdash;like the adulterators and the public authorities would&mdash;and
+proceed with the question of the adulteration. I had a most vivid vision
+or dream of the details of this adulteration as they would be carried
+out on your world at the period we are now considering. I imagined that
+I was actually in a part of your world called 'America,' and that one of
+your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> human beings politely invited me to walk through his factory and
+see how things were made. I think you mentioned 'oysters'&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image318-1.jpg" width="300" height="269" alt="&quot;NO CASE.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;NO CASE.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Yes," said James, "that's one name the article of food would possess;
+newspaper writers, however, would not recognise them by that name&mdash;they
+would only know them as 'the succulent bivalve.'"</p>
+
+<p>"The very idea!" exclaimed William. "That's exactly what I seemed to
+have become&mdash;a newspaper writer. I fancied I went to see the factory,
+and then sent in the following account:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"One of the most interesting factories in America is the stately
+building of the Ephraim Q. Knickerbocker Natural Products Manufacturing
+Corporation, of Spread Eagle Springs, N.J. That the structure is itself
+an imposing one may well be imagined in view of the vast productive
+energy expended within its walls; and the feebleness and inefficiency of
+the productive operations of Nature are never so fully realized as after
+a visit to this marvellous factory, and a comparison of the two systems.</p>
+
+<p>"It was, therefore, with no little satisfaction that we lately received
+a courteous invitation from the able and energetic managing director
+General Sardanapalus J. Van Biene to inspect the operations of the
+Corporation at its factory. Accordingly, we proceeded to the New York
+terminus of the Natural Products Manufacturing Corporation's New York,
+Sumner Ferry, Thanksgiving Flats, and Spread Eagle Springs Railroad,
+along which a special train speedily whirled us to the front door of the
+works. On the steps stood the genial managing director, supported by the
+principal manager Colonel Exodus V. Rooster, the head chemist Major
+Madison B. Jefferson, and the assistant chemists Judge Vansittart J.
+Sumner and Admiral Hudson W. Killigrew.</p>
+
+<p>"They received us with open arms, and, after entertaining us at a
+<i>recherch&eacute;</i> lunch, conducted us to the chemistry and analysis section
+occupying a little over seventeen acres and employing a permanent staff
+of thirteen thousand four hundred and thirty-two, assistants, among whom
+are chemists, microscopists, sub-inventors, etc., etc. There it is that
+the productive operations of Nature are studied and improved upon.</p>
+
+<p>"'You must not imagine that we have any kind of sympathy or admiration
+for Nature's system,' explained General S. J. Van Biene, hastening to
+sweep away any false impression which we might have formed.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 428px;">
+<img src="images/image318-2.jpg" width="428" height="450" alt="&quot;THEY RECEIVED US WITH OPEN ARMS.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THEY RECEIVED US WITH OPEN ARMS.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"'On the contrary, we just entirely despise her and her ways, and should
+have discarded her way back but for the prejudices<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> of the consuming
+public. It's just like this&mdash;the consumers still believe in natural
+products, and so we have to go on reproducing them instead of starting
+right away on our own lines and bringing out new and original
+commodities far in advance of anything Nature can do. How we're
+stultified you'll see as we work through. We just have to copy, anyway,
+in place of originating. We make oysters, for example. Now quite a while
+ago, our head chemist Major Madison B. Jefferson invented a new edible
+way, finer in every essential than the oyster; but the consumers
+wouldn't have it: they shied at it, and declared it wasn't wholesome;
+and we had the whole stock on our hands, and had to vat it down again,
+and recolour it, and make tomatoes of it. Then they took it down and
+just chaired it round. Of course, we have to say we <i>grow</i> the
+products&mdash;that's another effect of popular prejudice; if we had said we
+made those tomatoes, the public would have started right off again, and
+talked of "adulteration," although our tomatoes whip Nature's by 50 per
+cent, in all the elements of nutrition and flavour. Just taste this
+one.'</p>
+
+<p>"We hesitated, and the director, perceiving it, promptly consumed
+another from the same case. Thus reassured, we ventured to nibble at the
+artificial vegetable, and found it excellent in every respect&mdash;decidedly
+superior to the natural product, as he had stated.</p>
+
+<p>"'But,' we asked, 'do you not suffer considerable losses when these
+products&mdash;necessarily perishable in the natural course of things&mdash;begin
+to decay?'</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 396px;">
+<img src="images/image319.jpg" width="396" height="450" alt="&quot;JUST TASTE THIS ONE.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;JUST TASTE THIS ONE.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"'That's just another point where we show our superiority to Nature.
+<i>Our</i> products <i>don't</i> decay; on the contrary, they improve by keeping.
+Here is a tomato seven years old,' he continued, taking down another
+case. 'Try it.'</p>
+
+<p>"We did. The other was not to be compared with it. The older tomato had
+matured and mellowed, the skin having a finer colour and lovelier gloss,
+the flesh possessing a firmer body and more delicate flavour; it was far
+in advance of any tomato we had ever conceived.</p>
+
+<p>"'Wonderful!' we exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"'A very simple matter,' said the director. 'All that is required is a
+thorough mastery of chemistry. In all our goods we employ a special
+patent preservative of our own, which is naturally a secret. We
+calculate it to be worth one hundred and fifty quadrillions of dollars.</p>
+
+<p>"'But let us show you how we make oysters! See, these are the tanks
+which contain the mixture&mdash;the compound which forms the body of the
+bivalve. This tank contains the beard-mixture; and this one the
+gristle.'</p>
+
+<p>"'And what are the principal ingredients?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Glue, made from horses' heels. This is a very important factor in our
+products. This glue, after undergoing a peculiar treatment which
+prevents its hardening and losing its elasticity in the course of years,
+is flavoured and coloured in various ways. This great tank contains the
+composition for the internal parts of the oyster&mdash;nearly black, you
+perceive; that tank over there contains the compound for the flesh that
+covers the internal parts; that tank farther along holds the beard
+mixture; and the one beyond that the gristle which attaches the oyster
+to the shell. First, the flesh of the oyster is run into moulds, each
+oyster being in two parts; then the inside of the animal is run into
+another mould, and the two halves of the body are automatically placed
+around it and cemented together.</p>
+
+<p>"'Meanwhile the beards have been rolled, stamped, frilled, and coloured
+along the edge by special automatic machinery. The body of the oyster
+then passes to the fixing-up room, where the beard is cemented to it by
+hand, and finishing touches of colour added; and then it passes along
+and has the gristle attached: and the oyster itself is complete.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 322px;">
+<img src="images/image320-1.jpg" width="322" height="450" alt="The Oyster Factory Affixing the Beards." title="" />
+<span class="caption">The Oyster Factory Affixing the Beards.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"'But it wants a shell!'</p>
+
+<p>"'Just so. As far as the supply will go, we buy up old shells from
+dustyards and use them; but most of them are damaged by previous
+opening, so we make the bulk of our shells, and they're a good deal more
+natural than the real ones. They're made of lime.'</p>
+
+<p>"'All alike?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Not in the least. You see, we have some thousands of moulds, every one
+differing slightly from the rest. There's a special department for
+hingeing the two shells together. We had some trouble to find a
+substance for the hinge; but at last one of our chemists hit on a way of
+subjecting old hide-scraps to a peculiar process, and that did the
+thing. The mother-of-pearl is made of a sort of soft glass, somewhat
+after the appearance of Venetian glass, and put on the shell hot.
+Lastly, the oyster is attached to the shells by its cartilage; a little
+liquor is put in, and the shells are closed up.'</p>
+
+<p>"'But surely people must observe that they are not alive?' we said. 'For
+instance, they can't open their shells!'</p>
+
+<p>"'That's just where you're astray,' replied the General. 'Owing to the
+mechanical action of salt upon the composition of the cartilage, the
+oyster opens when placed in salt water. Iron, however, exercises an
+electro-magnetic influence upon the composition forming the body of the
+bivalve, causing a sudden contraction&mdash;so that, on a knife being
+introduced into the shell, the latter closes in the most natural way. We
+manufacture pearls on the premises, and advertise that one oyster in
+every gross taken from our beds contains a pearl of more or less value;
+and there's a greater demand for our oysters than for any others in the
+world. Our oyster beds are way down along the coast, about ten miles
+off; and are inspected by thousands yearly. Taste this egg.'</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 361px;">
+<img src="images/image320-2.jpg" width="361" height="450" alt="The Pearl." title="" />
+<span class="caption">The Pearl.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"He took up a fine specimen of a new-laid egg, and proceeded to break it
+into a glass. It was a delightful egg. 'That's our latest pattern of
+egg,' explained the General, 'You perceive that it has three lines
+around it, where the substance of the shell is weaker than elsewhere;
+the lines near each end enable a person about to consume the egg in a
+boiled state to easily cut off the top or bottom with a knife, or run
+his nail around it; while the line about the middle greatly assists
+cooks in breaking it into a basin. There is also a thin spot at either
+end, to facilitate sucking. These eggs are always new-laid; we send tons
+to Europe, particularly to Great Britain, where ours are the only fresh
+eggs they ever get.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 357px;">
+<img src="images/image321-1.jpg" width="357" height="400" alt="The London Egg" title="" />
+<span class="caption">The London Egg</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"'But you must find some difficulty in making an egg?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Just as easy as smiling. The white is simply jelly-fish subjected to a
+chemical process&mdash;jelly-fish aren't costly. This tank is full of the
+liquor. The main ingredient of the yolk is the horse-heel glue mentioned
+before; we also boil down vast quantities of rats&mdash;they come cheap, too;
+it's only the cost of catching them; and then there's a vegetable
+colouring, and the preservative, and a few other trifles. First, the two
+halves of the white are made in two moulds, and frozen; then the two
+frozen halves are frozen together, and the yolk-mixture poured in
+through a small hole, which is then closed. Then comes the skin; and
+that is the most expensive part, for it contains a certain quantity of
+rubber. We have tried in vain to find a substitute for rubber, but
+failed hitherto. The rubber is mixed with a gum from a South American
+tree, and the mixture is applied with a brush over the frozen egg; and
+then the egg, still frozen, is dipped in a lime composition very nearly
+identical with the oyster-shell mixture; and, lastly, the whole thing is
+passed through the finishing machine, which turns the three thin lines
+and the two thin spots, imitates the pores of the shell, and delivers
+the finished egg to the warehouse.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Marvellous!' we involuntarily exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"'Oh, that's nothing at all,' said the director. 'We're meditating
+turning out eggs that will hatch and become fowls. At present we have to
+manufacture fowls; but we calculate to make a great saving by producing
+them from the eggs we make. That building over yonder is the terrapin
+factory; we turn out eleven tons of terrapin weekly. We make clams, of
+course&mdash;in the oyster department. In this next house we make kidneys and
+sweetbreads. Fruit? Oh, yes, we turn out masses of fruit; peaches pay
+best, but we do very well with nuts.'</p>
+
+<p>"We were then conducted to the show-room, where we tasted a number of
+other products of the wonderful factory; and we had just said a grateful
+farewell to our courteous guide, when we were seized with pains of the
+most acute description.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 259px;">
+<img src="images/image321-2.jpg" width="259" height="450" alt="The Pain." title="" />
+<span class="caption">The Pain.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"The arrangements of the hospital were admirable. The kindliness and
+attention we received made our five years' sojourn there a time to look
+back upon with feelings of gratitude. We are assured that, with strict
+diet and unremitting care, we may last some time yet&mdash;possibly even
+three months."</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>"It was a marvellous vision," said James, fervently, as the voice of
+William ceased. "Surely after that you must think better of those beings
+of mine?"</p>
+
+<p>But William merely sniffed.</p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">J. F. Sullivan.</span></p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/image322-1.jpg" width="550" height="286" alt="A TURNIP RESEMBLING A HUMAN HAND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">A TURNIP RESEMBLING A HUMAN HAND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The above photographs represent two views of an extraordinary turnip
+grown by Alderman David Evans, Llangennech Park, Carmarthenshire. We are
+indebted for the photographs to Mr. Morgan W. James, of Llanelly.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/image322-2.jpg" width="550" height="370" alt="A ROOM PAPERED WITH STAMPS." title="" />
+<span class="caption">A ROOM PAPERED WITH STAMPS.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The above photograph represents the study of Mr. C. Whitfield King, of
+Morpeth House, Ipswich, which he has papered with 44,068 <i>unused</i>
+foreign postage stamps, bearing the value of &pound;699 16s. 9d., and
+containing 48 varieties of different sizes and colours, presenting an
+example of mosaic work which is altogether unique of its kind.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span></p>
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 750px;">
+<img src="images/image323.jpg" width="750" height="1147" alt="Drinking" title="" />
+<span class="caption">Drinking</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 750px;">
+<img src="images/image324.jpg" width="750" height="1108" alt="VESSELS OF ALL" title="" />
+<span class="caption">VESSELS OF ALL</span>
+</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span></p>
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 750px;">
+<img src="images/image325.jpg" width="750" height="1075" alt="A CROCODILE STORY." title="" />
+<span class="caption">A CROCODILE STORY.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue
+27, March 1893, by Various
+
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+</pre>
+
+</body>
+</html>
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@@ -0,0 +1,6032 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue 27,
+March 1893, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue 27, March 1893
+       An Illustrated Monthly
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: George Newnes
+
+Release Date: October 9, 2009 [EBook #30222]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STRAND MAGAZINE, MARCH 1893 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Victorian/Edwardian Pictorial Magazines,
+Jonathan Ingram, Josephine Paolucci and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE
+
+STRAND MAGAZINE
+
+_An Illustrated Monthly_
+
+Vol. 5, Issue. 27.
+
+March 1893
+
+
+[Illustration: "BY HEAVEN," CRIED RUY LOPEZ, "THE DUKE SHALL FINISH HIS
+GAME!"
+
+(_A Game of Chess_.)]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+A GAME of CHESS.
+
+FROM THE FRENCH.
+
+
+I.
+
+King Phillip II. was playing at chess in the Escurial Palace. His
+opponent was Ruy Lopez, a humble priest, but a chess player of great
+skill. Being the King's particular favourite, the great player was
+permitted to kneel upon a brocaded cushion, whilst the courtiers grouped
+about the King were forced to remain standing in constrained and painful
+attitudes.
+
+It was a magnificent morning. The air was perfumed with the orange
+groves, and the violet curtains of the splendid hall hardly softened the
+burning rays which streamed in through the windows. The blaze of living
+light seemed scarcely in harmony with the King's gloomy countenance. His
+brow was black as night, and from time to time he bent his eyes
+impatiently upon the door. The nobles stood in silence, darting meaning
+glances at each other. It was easily to be discerned that some event of
+great importance weighed upon the spirits of the assembly. No one paid
+any attention to the chess-board except Ruy Lopez, who, as he moved the
+pieces, hesitated between the temptation of checkmating his opponent and
+the deference due to his King. The silence was unbroken except by the
+sound made by the players moving their pieces.
+
+Suddenly the door opened, and a man of rude and savage aspect advanced
+into the hall, and, presenting himself before the King, stood waiting
+his commands to speak. This man's appearance was anything but
+prepossessing, and on his entrance the nobles, as if animated with one
+thought, shrank back with contempt and loathing, as if some unclean
+animal had entered into their midst. His massive, herculean figure was
+clad in a doublet of black leather, and his face, in which could be seen
+no trace of intelligence, expressed, on the contrary, nothing but
+vileness and villainy; a great scar, running right across his face and
+losing itself in a bushy beard, added still further to the natural
+brutality of his countenance.
+
+An electric thrill ran through the assembly. The new comer was Fernando
+Calavar, high executioner of Spain.
+
+"Is he dead?" asked the King, in an imperious tone.
+
+"No, sire," replied Calavar, bowing low.
+
+The King frowned.
+
+"Great Sovereign of Spain," Calavar continued, "the prisoner has claimed
+his privileges, and I cannot take proceedings against a man whose blood
+belongs to the noblest in Spain, without having a more imperative order
+from your Majesty," and he bowed again.
+
+The nobles, who had listened with great attention to these words, broke
+into a murmur of approbation as the man finished speaking. The proud
+Castilian blood rushed like a stream of lava through their veins, and
+dyed their faces crimson. The manifestation became general. Young Alonza
+D'Ossuna openly asserted his opinion by putting on his plumed cap. His
+bold example was followed by the majority of the nobles, and their lofty
+nodding crests seemed to proclaim with defiance that their masters
+protested in favour of the privilege, which the hidalgos of Spain have
+always enjoyed, of covering their heads before their Sovereign.
+
+The King gave a furious start, and striking his fist violently upon the
+chess-board, scattered the chessmen in all directions.
+
+"He has been judged by our Royal Court of Justice," he cried, "and
+condemned to death. What does the traitor demand?"
+
+"Sire!" replied the executioner, "he asks permission to die upon the
+block, and also to pass the three last hours of his life with a priest."
+
+"Ah, that is granted!" replied Philip, in a tone of relief. "Is not our
+confessor in the prison according to our orders?"
+
+"Yes, sire!" said Calavar, "the holy man is there; but the Duke refuses
+to see St. Diaz de Silva. He says he cannot receive absolution from
+anyone below the dignity of a Bishop. Such is the privilege of a noble
+condemned to death for high treason."
+
+"Yes, these are our rights!" boldly interrupted the fiery D'Ossuna; "and
+we claim from the King our cousin's privileges."
+
+This demand acted as a signal.
+
+"Our rights and the King's justice are inseparable," cried Don Diego de
+Tarraxas, Count of Valence, an old man of gigantic stature, clothed in
+armour, holding in his hands the baton of Great Constable of Spain, and
+leaning upon his long Toledo blade.
+
+"Our rights and our privileges!" cried the nobles, repeating the words
+like an echo. Their audacity made the King start with fury from his
+ebony throne.
+
+"By the bones of Campeador!" he cried. "By the soul of St. Jago! I have
+sworn neither to eat nor sleep until the bleeding head of Don Gusman
+lies before me. As I have sworn, so shall it be. But Don Tarraxas has
+said well, 'The King's justice confirms his subjects' rights.' My Lord
+Constable, where does the nearest Bishop reside?"
+
+"Sire, I have more to do with camp than with the Church," the Constable
+replied, somewhat abruptly. "Your Majesty's chaplain, Don Silvas, is
+present: he can tell you better than I."
+
+Don Silvas began to speak in trepidation.
+
+[Illustration: "WHAT DOES THE TRAITOR DEMAND?"]
+
+"Sire," he said, humbly, "the Bishop of Segovia is an official of the
+King, but he who filled the duty died last week, and the parchment which
+names his successor is still upon the Council table, and is yet to be
+submitted to the Pope's seal."
+
+At these words a joyous smile hovered about D'Ossuna's lips. This joy
+was but natural, for the young man was of the blood of the Gusmans, and
+his cousin, the condemned prisoner, was his dearest friend. The King
+perceived the smile, and his eye shot forth lightning.
+
+"We are the King!" he said, gravely, with the calm which presages a
+storm; "our Royal person must be no butt for raillery. This sceptre
+appears light, my lords, but he who ridicules it shall be crushed
+thereby as with a block of iron. I believe that our holy father the Pope
+is somewhat indebted to us, so that we do not fear his displeasure at
+the step which we are about to take. Since the King of Spain can make a
+Prince, he can also make a Bishop. Rise, then, Don Ruy Lopez. I create
+you Bishop of Segovia. Rise, I command you, and take your rank in the
+Church."
+
+The courtiers stood dumfounded.
+
+Don Ruy Lopez rose mechanically. His head was whirling, and he stammered
+as he strove to speak.
+
+"If your Majesty pleases----" he began.
+
+"Silence, my Lord Bishop!" replied the King. "Obey your Sovereign. The
+formalities of your installation shall be performed another day; our
+subjects will not fail to acknowledge our wishes in this affair. Bishop
+of Segovia, go with Calavar to the condemned man's cell. Give absolution
+to his soul, and in three hours leave his body to the executioner's axe.
+As for you, Calavar, I will await you here; you will bring us the
+traitor's head. Let justice be accomplished."
+
+Then Philip turned to Ruy Lopez.
+
+"I give you my signet ring," he said, "to show the Duke as a token of
+the truth of your story."
+
+The executioner left the chamber, followed by Ruy Lopez.
+
+"Well, gentlemen," said the King, turning to the others, "do you still
+doubt the King's justice?"
+
+But the nobles answered not a word.
+
+The King, having taken his seat, made a sign to one of his favourites to
+place himself before the chess-board, and Don Ramirez, Count of Biscay,
+accordingly knelt down upon the velvet cushion.
+
+"With a game of chess, gentlemen," said the King, smiling, "and your
+company, I cannot fail to make the time pass agreeably. Let no one leave
+the chamber until Calavar's return. We cannot spare a single one of
+you."
+
+With these ironical words, Philip commenced a game with Don Ramirez,
+whilst the nobles, almost dropping with fatigue, resumed the positions
+about their august master which they had occupied at the beginning of
+this story.
+
+
+II.
+
+Calavar, leading the way, conducted the new Bishop to the condemned
+man's cell. Ruy Lopez walked like one in a dream. Was he awake, or not?
+He hardly knew. At the bottom of his heart he cursed the King and his
+Court. He understood perfectly that he had become Bishop of Segovia, but
+he felt deeply at what a price he had bought his dignity. What had Don
+Gusman done that he should be thus sacrificed? Don Gusman, the best
+chess player in Spain! He thought of all this as he proceeded over the
+marble flags which led to the State prison, and as he thought he prayed
+that the ground would open and swallow him up.
+
+Don Gusman was pacing impatiently up and down his narrow cell with a
+hurried step that betrayed the feverish anxiety of his mind. The cell
+was furnished with a massive table and two heavy wooden stools, the
+floor being covered with coarse, thick mats. Shut out from all the
+noises of the outer world, here silence reigned supreme. A crucifix,
+roughly carved, was fixed to the wall in the niche of a high window,
+which was carefully barred with iron. Except for this image of
+resignation and mercy, the walls were bare. Well might this dungeon
+serve as antechamber to the tomb.
+
+As Ruy Lopez entered the cell a sudden burst of sunshine flooded the
+walls as if in bitter mockery of him who was soon to see it no more.
+
+The Duke saluted the new Bishop with great courtesy. They regarded each
+other, and exchanged in that look a thousand words which they alone
+could understand. Ruy Lopez felt the painfulness of his position deeply,
+and the Duke understood his embarrassment. Their thoughts were both the
+same, that in the condemnation of one of the principal favourites of the
+King an innocent life was threatened! The proofs of the crime imputed to
+the Duke were grave; the most important being a despatch written in Don
+Gusman's hand to the French Court, in which he unfolded a scheme for
+assassinating Philip II. This had sufficed to condemn him.
+
+Don Gusman, strong in his innocence, had kept a rigorous silence when
+brought before his judges, and the accusation not being denied,
+sentence of death was passed upon him. Don Gusman since his
+incarceration had not altered. He had braved the storm, and looked upon
+death with an unmoved countenance. His last hours had no terrors for
+him. If his forehead was overshadowed, if his steps were agitated and
+his breathing hurried, it was because there rose before his eye the
+image of his betrothed, Dona Estella, who, ignorant of her lover's fate,
+was waiting for him in her battlemented castle on the banks of the
+Guadalquiver. If he felt weak at this fatal moment, and if a pang shot
+through his heart, it was because his thoughts were of her who was to
+him the dearest thing in all the world.
+
+[Illustration: "RUY LOPEZ ENTERED THE CELL."]
+
+Ruy Lopez had not entered alone. Calavar was at his side; and it was he
+who announced to the Duke the King's decision and reply. Ruy Lopez
+confirmed the executioner's words, and the Duke, falling on his knees
+before the new Bishop, asked his blessing, then turning to Calavar with
+a gesture of authority, he dismissed him, saying:--
+
+"In three hours I shall be at your disposal."
+
+Calavar obeyed him and went out, and the Duke and Bishop were left
+alone.
+
+Ruy Lopez was trembling with nervousness, whilst Don Gusman's face wore
+a calm and serene expression. He took the Bishop's hand, and wrung it
+warmly. There was a pause. The Duke was the first to break the silence.
+
+"We have met before in happier circumstances," he said, smiling.
+
+"It is true," stammered Ruy Lopez, who, pale and agitated, resembled
+rather the penitent than the confessor.
+
+"Much happier," repeated the Duke, absently. "Do you remember, when you
+played your celebrated game of chess with Paoli Boy, the Sicilian, in
+the presence of the King and Court, that it was upon my right arm that
+the King leant?" Then after a pause he continued: "Do you remember also,
+father, those words of Cervantes, 'Life is a game of chess?' I have
+forgotten the exact place in which the passage occurs, but its meaning
+is, that upon earth men play different roles. There are, as in chess,
+kings, knights, soldiers, bishops, according to their birth, fate and
+fortune; and when the game is over death lays them all as equals in the
+tomb, even as we gather together the chessmen into a box."
+
+"Yes, I remember those words of Don Quixote," replied Don Lopez,
+astonished at this singular conversation, "and I remember also Sancho's
+reply: 'That however good the comparison was, it was not so new that he
+had not heard it before.'"
+
+"I was your favourite pupil, even your rival," said the Duke, without
+appearing to hear Don Lopez.
+
+"It is true," cried the Bishop. "You are a great master of the game, and
+I have been often proud of having such a pupil. But now, on your knees,
+my son."
+
+They knelt down together, and there before the crucifix Don Gusman made
+confession to Ruy Lopez, who as he listened could hardly restrain his
+tears.
+
+When the Duke had finished, two hours after--for the confession under
+the Church seal was long and touching--the Bishop blessed the prisoner,
+and gave him absolution. The face of Don Gusman, as he rose, was calm
+and resigned.
+
+[Illustration: "THEY KNELT DOWN TOGETHER."]
+
+But there remained still an hour to wait.
+
+"This delay is torture," cried the Duke. "Why do they not cut off the
+prisoners at once, instead of stretching their souls upon such a rack of
+agony? An eternity of suffering is in each of these minutes." And the
+prisoner began to walk impatiently to and fro, with his eyes constantly
+bent upon the door. The Duke's firmness was shaken by the thought of
+that weary hour of waiting. Ruy Lopez had fulfilled his duty. The
+prisoner's soul was purified, and now the priest could become the
+friend.
+
+As Don Lopez heard Don Gusman utter this exclamation, and saw his face
+grow white, he understood what agony he was undergoing, and felt at once
+that something must be done to divert his thoughts. But in vain he
+racked his brain for an idea. He could think of nothing. What could he
+propose to a man about to die? For such as he, the flower has no longer
+perfume, woman has no longer beauty. Then suddenly a thought flashed
+across his brain.
+
+"How would a game of chess--" he began, timidly.
+
+"An excellent idea!" cried Don Gusman, recalled to himself by this
+singular proposal. "A farewell game of chess."
+
+"You consent?"
+
+"Most readily; but where are the chessmen, my friend?"
+
+"Am I not always provided with the instruments of war?" said Ruy Lopez,
+smiling. Then he pulled forward the two stools and set out upon the
+table a microscopic set of chessmen. "Our Lady pardon me!" he continued.
+"I often pass my spare time in the confessional in working out some
+problem."
+
+The chessmen being set out, the players took their seats, and were soon
+absorbed in the excitement of the game.
+
+This strange contest, between a priest and a condemned prisoner, made a
+picture worthy of the brush of Rembrandt or Salvator Rosa. The light
+which streamed from the arched windows fell upon the pale, noble
+features of Don Gusman, and upon the venerable head of Ruy Lopez.
+
+The emotions of the two players were very different. Ruy Lopez played
+with a preoccupation which was not usual to him, and which rendered him
+much inferior to his ordinary strength. Don Gusman, on the contrary,
+stimulated by excitement, played with more than his ordinary skill. At
+this moment his noble Castilian blood did not fail him, for never had
+the Duke given better proof of the clearness of his mind. Such a flash
+of intellect must be compared to the last flickers of the failing lamp,
+or to the last song of the dying swan.
+
+Don Gusman suddenly attacked his adversary with an impetuosity which
+nearly gained him a certain victory; but Ruy Lopez, recalled to himself
+by this vigorous effort, defended himself bravely. The game became more
+and more complicated. The Bishop strove to gain a mate which he saw, or
+believed he saw, at hand, whilst Don Gusman played with the eagerness of
+certain victory. Everything was forgotten, and time passed unnoticed.
+The chess-board was their universe, and a life of anxiety was in each
+move.
+
+The minutes, the quarters, the half-hours flew by, and the fatal hour
+arrived at last.
+
+A distant sound struck on their ears; it grew nearer, it increased, and
+the door swinging open gave admittance to Calavar and his assistants,
+who advanced into the cell with torches in their hands. They were armed
+with swords, and two of them bore the block, covered with a black cloth,
+on which lay an axe.
+
+[Illustration: "THE GAME BECAME MORE AND MORE COMPLICATED."]
+
+The torches were placed in the receptacle prepared for them, whilst one
+of the men scattered cedar sawdust on the floor. All this was the work
+of a moment, while the executioner stood waiting for the prisoner.
+
+As Calavar entered, Ruy Lopez started to his feet, in a tremor of alarm,
+but the Duke did not move. His eyes were fixed upon the chess-board. It
+was his turn to play. Calavar, seeing his abstracted gaze, advanced to
+the Duke's side and placed his hand upon his shoulder.
+
+"Come," he said.
+
+The prisoner shuddered as if he had trodden upon a serpent.
+
+"I must finish this game," he said, imperiously.
+
+"It is impossible," Calavar replied.
+
+"But, fellow, the game is mine! I can force mate in a few moves. Let me
+play it out."
+
+"I cannot. It is impossible," repeated the executioner.
+
+"Are the three hours gone already?"
+
+"The last stroke has just struck. We must obey the King."
+
+The assistants, who had until then stood leaning on their swords, came
+forward at these words.
+
+The Duke was sitting against the wall, under the high window, with the
+table between him and Calavar. He started to his feet.
+
+"I shall not move until the game is over. In half an hour my head shall
+be at your disposal."
+
+"My lord," replied Calavar, "I respect you deeply, but I cannot grant
+you this request. I answer for your life with mine."
+
+Don Gusman made a gesture of impatience, and pulling off his diamond
+rings, he threw them at the executioner's feet. "I mean to finish the
+game," he said, carelessly.
+
+The jewels sparkled as they rolled and settled in the dust.
+
+"My orders are imperative," cried Calavar, "and you must pardon us,
+noble Duke, if we have to use force; but the King's orders and the law
+of Spain must be carried out. Obey, then, and do not waste your last
+moments in a useless struggle. Speak to the Duke, my lord Bishop. Tell
+him to submit to his fate."
+
+Ruy Lopez's reply was as prompt as it was decisive. He seized the axe
+which lay upon the block and swung it with both hands above his head.
+
+"By Heaven!" he cried, "the Duke _shall_ finish his game!"
+
+Scared by the gesture which accompanied these words, Calavar drew back
+in such a fright that he stumbled and fell back on his companions. The
+swords flashed from their scabbards, and the band prepared for attack.
+But Ruy Lopez, who appeared to have put forth the strength of a
+Hercules, cast upon the ground his heavy wooden stool.
+
+"The first of you who passes this limit dies!" he cried in a loud voice.
+"Courage, Duke!--to the attack! There are only four of these miscreants.
+The last desire of your Grace shall be gratified, were I to lose my life
+in the attempt. And you, wretched man, beware how you lay a finger upon
+a Bishop of the Church. Down with your swords and respect the Lord's
+anointed!" And Ruy Lopez continued to hurl forth, in a jargon of
+Spanish and Latin, one of those formulas of excommunication and
+malediction which at that period acted so strongly upon the masses of
+the people.
+
+The effect was prompt. The men stood rooted to the spot with terror,
+whilst Calavar, thinking that to kill a Bishop without a sealed order
+from the King was to run the risk of putting his life in jeopardy in
+this world and his soul in the next, avowed himself vanquished. He knew
+not what to do next. To rush with the news to the King, who was waiting
+impatiently for Don Gusman's head, was only to expose himself. To attack
+the prisoner and the priest would be too hazardous, for Ruy Lopez was a
+man of no mean strength. The position of affairs was critical. At last
+he decided to take the easiest way out of the difficulty--to wait.
+
+"Will you promise me faithfully to give yourself up in half an hour?" he
+demanded of Don Gusman.
+
+"I promise," replied the Duke.
+
+"Play on, then," said the executioner.
+
+The truce being thus concluded, the players returned to their seats and
+their game, whilst Calavar and his companions, forming themselves into a
+circle, stationed themselves round the two players. Calavar, who was
+himself a chess player, looked on with interest, and could not prevent
+himself from involuntarily considering each move the players made.
+
+Don Gusman looked up for an instant upon the circle of faces which
+surrounded him, but his _sang froid_ did not abandon him.
+
+"Never have I played in the presence of such a noble company!" he cried.
+"Bear witness, rascals, that at least once in my life I have beaten Don
+Lopez." Then he returned to the game with a smile upon his lips. The
+Bishop gripped the handle of the axe which he still held in his hand.
+
+"If I were only sure of escaping from this tigers' den," he thought, "I
+would break every head of the four of them."
+
+
+III.
+
+If three hours had dragged in the prisoner's cell, they had not passed
+more quickly in the Royal chamber of King Philip.
+
+The King had finished his game with Don Ramirez de Biscay, and the
+nobles, still compelled from etiquette to remain standing, appeared
+almost ready to drop with fatigue, rendered still more painful from the
+weight of their armour.
+
+Don Tarraxas stood motionless, with closed eyes like one of those iron
+figures which ornamented the castles of the savage Goths. Young
+D'Ossuna, with drooping head, stood propped against a marble pillar,
+whilst King Philip strode impatiently about the apartment, only stopping
+at intervals to listen to some imaginary noise. According to the
+superstitious custom of the age, the King knelt for a few moments at the
+foot of a figure of the Virgin placed upon a porphyry pedestal to pray
+the Madonna to pardon him the deed of blood which was about to take
+place. Silence reigned, for no one, whatever his rank might be, dared to
+speak before his Sovereign without his commands.
+
+As the King's eyes saw the last grain of sand fall in the hour-glass he
+uttered an exclamation of joy.
+
+"The traitor dies!" he cried.
+
+An almost inaudible murmur ran through the assembly.
+
+"The hour is passed, Count of Biscay," said Philip, turning to Don
+Ramirez, "and with it your enemy."
+
+"My enemy, sire?" asked Ramirez, affecting surprise.
+
+"Why do you repeat my words, Count?" replied the King. "Were you not a
+rival to Don Gusman in the affections of Dona Estella, and can rivals be
+friends? Dona Estella shall be yours. This young girl will bring you her
+beauty and her fortune. I have not spoken of this to our Council, but my
+Royal word is pledged. If the ingratitude of Sovereigns is ever spoken
+of before you, Count, you will be able to reply that we did not forget
+the true friend of the King and of Spain who discovered the plot and the
+correspondence of Don Gusman with France."
+
+Don Ramirez de Biscay seemed to listen to the King with uneasiness. He
+kept his eyes fixed upon the ground, as if he disliked to be thus
+praised in public. Then he made an effort to reply.
+
+"Sire!" he said, "it was with great repugnance that I fulfilled such a
+painful duty"--he hesitated, and then was silent.
+
+Tarraxas gave a slight start, whilst D'Ossuna struck sharply the pommel
+of his sword with his iron glove.
+
+"Before Dona Estella shall belong to this man," thought D'Ossuna, "I
+will have vengeance or perish in the attempt. Tomorrow shall be the day
+of my revenge."
+
+The King continued:--
+
+"Your zeal, Don Ramirez, and your devotion must be rewarded. The saviour
+of our throne, and perhaps of our dynasty, merits a particular gift.
+This morning I ordered you to make out some _lettres-patentes_, which
+confer upon you the rank of Duke and Governor of Valence. Are these
+ready to be signed?"
+
+Don Ramirez grew pale with pleasure. He shook like an aspen and his eyes
+grew dim. But the King made an impatient movement, and the Count,
+drawing a roll of parchment hastily from his breast, presented it on his
+knees to the King.
+
+"My first public duty to-day shall be to sign these papers," said the
+King. "The executioner has already punished treason; it is now time for
+the King to recompense fidelity."
+
+The King unrolled the parchment and began to read. As he read, his face
+became convulsed with fury, and his eyes shot forth flames of wrath.
+
+"By my father's soul!" he shouted; "what do I behold?"
+
+
+IV.
+
+The game of chess was finished. Don Gusman had beaten Ruy Lopez, and his
+triumph was complete. He rose to his feet.
+
+"I am now, as ever, ready to obey the wishes of my King," he said to
+Calavar.
+
+The executioner understood him, and began to prepare the block. Whilst
+this was being done Don Gusman advanced towards the crucifix, and said
+in a firm voice:--
+
+"Oh, Heaven! may this unjust and rash act which is about to take place
+fall upon the head of him who is the instigator of this treachery; but
+let not my blood recoil upon the head of my King."
+
+[Illustration: "WHAT DO I BEHOLD?"]
+
+Ruy Lopez, crouching in a corner of the cell, and burying his face in
+his mantle, began to recite the prayers for the dying.
+
+Calavar approached Don Gusman, and putting his hand upon the Duke's
+shoulder began to loosen his ruff. Don Gusman shrank back from the
+contact.
+
+"Nothing that belongs to you, except this axe, shall touch a Gusman," he
+said, taking off his ruff himself and placing his head upon the block.
+"Strike!" he added, "I am ready!"
+
+The executioner raised the axe--the King's justice was at last to be
+satisfied, when shouts, rapid footsteps and confused voices arrested the
+sweep of the executioner's arm.
+
+The door gave way under the united efforts of a troop of armed men, and
+D'Ossuna, rushing into the cell, threw himself between the executioner
+and his victim. He was just in time.
+
+"He lives!" cried Tarraxas.
+
+"He is saved!" repeated D'Ossuna. "My beloved cousin, I never hoped to
+have seen you alive again. God in His mercy has not let the innocent
+perish for the guilty. God be praised!"
+
+"God be praised!" echoed all the spectators, and louder than the rest
+rang out the voice of Ruy Lopez.
+
+"You have arrived in time, my friend," said Don Gusman to his cousin;
+"but now I shall have no longer strength to die," and he sank back
+fainting on the block. The shock had been too much for him.
+
+Ruy Lopez seized the Duke in his arms, and, followed by all the nobles,
+bore him along the passages to the King's apartment. When Don Gusman
+opened his eyes he found himself in the midst of a circle of his
+friends, amongst which stood the King, looking down upon him with an
+expression of joy.
+
+Don Gusman could hardly believe his senses. From the axe and the block
+he had passed to the King's apartment. He did not understand why this
+change had taken place. He did not know that Don Ramirez, in giving his
+_lettres-patentes_ to the King to sign, had, in his agitation, given him
+instead a paper containing a plot in which he schemed to get rid for
+ever of Don Gusman, a detested rival, and one of the firmest supporters
+of the throne. He was ignorant of all that had passed, and did not know
+how he had escaped from the clutches of the executioner. It was some
+time before everything could be made clear to him.
+
+Three days afterwards, at the same hour as Gusman's miraculous delivery,
+Calavar beheaded Don Ramirez, Count of Biscay, traitor and false
+witness. Don Gusman was overwhelmed with congratulations on all sides.
+King Philip grasped him cordially by his hand.
+
+"Gusman," he said, "I have been very unjust. I can never forgive my
+folly."
+
+"Sire," replied the Duke, "let us speak of it no more. Such words spoken
+by my King are worth a thousand lives."
+
+But the King continued.
+
+"I desire," he said, "that henceforth, in commemoration of your almost
+miraculous deliverance, you carry upon your escutcheon a silver axe
+emblazoned on an azure chess-board. This month we shall celebrate your
+marriage with Dona Estella. The marriage shall take place in our
+Escurial Palace."
+
+Then he added, turning to Ruy Lopez:--
+
+"I believe that the Church will possess a good servant in its new
+Bishop. You shall be consecrated Lord Prelate, with a scarlet robe,
+enriched with diamonds; that will be the recompense of your game of
+chess with Don Gusman."
+
+"Sire," replied Don Lopez, "never before this day have I been satisfied
+to be checkmated."
+
+The King smiled, and the courtiers followed his example.
+
+"Now, my lords," continued Philip, "we invite you all to our Royal
+banquet. Let Don Gusman's seat be placed upon our right, and the Bishop
+of Segovia's on our left. Give me your arm, Don Gusman."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Illustrated Interviews
+
+XXL--MR. AND MRS. KENDAL.
+
+
+If one had waited for a few months, "The Kendals" would have been
+getting settled in their new home in Portland Place. But, then, the
+happiest associations are always centred around the old, and the
+pleasantest and frequently the dearest recollections are gathered about
+the familiar. That is why I went to them once more to their home of many
+years at 145, Harley Street.
+
+It would be difficult to realize a woman of more striking
+characteristics than she who was for so many years known as "Madge"
+Robertson, and notwithstanding a very important visit one morning in
+August twenty-three years ago to St. Saviour's, Plymouth Grove,
+Manchester, when she became the wife of Mr. William Hunter Grimston,
+there are many who still know and speak of her by her happily-remembered
+maiden name. From that day husband and wife have never played
+apart--they have remained sweethearts on the stage and lovers in their
+own home. At night--the footlights; by day--home and children. Mrs.
+Kendal assured me that neither her eldest daughter, Margaret, nor Ethel,
+nor Dorothy--the youngest--nor "Dorrie," who is now at Cambridge, nor
+Harold, a "Marlborough" boy, would ever go on the stage. Home, husband,
+and children--home, wife, and children, are the embodiment of the life
+led by the Kendals.
+
+[Illustration: THE DRAWING-ROOM
+
+_From a Photo by Elliott & Fry_.]
+
+Together with Mr. Kendal we sat down in the drawing-room, and were
+joined for a moment by Miss Grimston, a quiet, unaffected young girl,
+who looked as though she could never rid herself of a smile, either in
+her eyes or about her mouth--a young maiden who suggested "sunshine."
+She was carrying Victoria, a pet dog. The mother's whole thoughts seemed
+to go out to her daughter.
+
+"Our Jubilee dog," she cried. "I bought her on Jubilee Day, and,
+curiously enough, Mr. Kendal bought one too, neither of us telling the
+other we were going to make such canine purchases."
+
+Then, when Miss Grimston had left the room, her mother turned to me
+quietly, and said:--
+
+"The image of my brother Tom. The same hair, the same expression of
+eyes, the same kind and loving ways. I think he lives in my girl. Come
+with me and you shall see his portrait."
+
+It hung in Miss Grimston's boudoir--an apartment the walls of which were
+decorated with pictures of the Comedie-Francaise Company, the original
+designs for the dresses in "A Wife's Secret"; while over the
+mantel-board are Mr. and Mrs. Kendal in "The Ironmaster," and many
+family portraits are about.
+
+[Illustration: MISS GRIMSTON'S BOUDOIR.
+
+_From a Photo by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+"It is so amusing to hear people talk and write about my eldest brother
+Tom and me playing together as children," she said. "My mother was
+married when she was eighteen, and my brother was born when she was
+nineteen; I was born when she was forty-eight, and was her twenty-second
+child! So my brother was a grown man with a moustache when I knew him. I
+was brought up with his two children--little Tom and Maude, my own
+nephew and niece."
+
+What a delightful story it was! Little Madge Robertson used to dress up
+as a policeman and take Maude into custody before Tom, the younger, as
+the judge. And this was the trial:--
+
+"What is the prisoner charged with, constable?" asked the judge.
+
+"Murder, my lord," replied the representative of law and order.
+
+"Prisoner, are you guilty?"
+
+"Yes, my lord," answered the poor prisoner.
+
+"Prisoner, have you anything to say why sentence should not be passed
+upon you according to law?"
+
+"Yes, my lord. _I'm the daughter of the author of 'Caste'._"
+
+The prisoner always got off, and dear old William Robertson would watch
+this little scene and roar with laughter.
+
+"Yes," Mrs. Kendal said quietly, as we again looked at "Tom's" picture,
+"my brother was kindness itself, even from his infancy. I remember
+hearing how, when he was a very small boy and living with his aunt, he
+went out one summer's day with a new velvet jacket on. He caught sight
+of a poor little beggar child his own size, who was in tatters, and,
+beckoning him across, at once divested himself of his new coat, put it
+on the wondering youngster, and ran away home as fast as he could. His
+aunt questioned him, and upon finding out the true circumstances of the
+case, and not wishing to damp the kind spirit in the little fellow's
+heart, said:--
+
+"'Well, we'll go and try to find the boy you gave it to, and buy your
+jacket back.'
+
+"Fortunately the search was successful, and the coat was bought back for
+no less a sum than half-a-sovereign.
+
+"And in later years it was just the same with Tom. He could never pass
+by a common cookshop, in front of the windows of which was often a crowd
+of men, women, and children, looking on with longing eyes, without
+getting them inside and giving them a fill to their hearts' content.
+When out driving it was no different. He would stop the horse, and have
+all the watching hungry ones inside, and the next moment they would be
+revelling in the satisfying properties of thick slices of plum-pudding
+and roast beef."
+
+The house throughout is most artistic. Mr. Kendal is a painter of great
+merit, and he "knows" a picture as soon as he sees it. Pictures are his
+hobby; hence there is not a room in the house--even to the
+kitchen--which does not find a place for some canvas, etching, or
+engraving. The entrance-hall is at once striking, with its quaint
+thirteenth century furniture, bronzes, and Venetian ware. There are some
+fine engravings of Miss Brunton--who became Countess of Craven--Kemble,
+Garrick, Phelps, and Mrs. Siddons. A picture of Mrs. Kendal in "The
+Falcon" was done at the express wish of, and paid for by, the late Poet
+Laureate. Tennyson said it reminded him of a woman he liked and admired.
+In the shadow is a fine bust of Macready, given by the great actor to
+the father of Mrs. Kendal; resting against the fireplace on either side
+are the two lances used in "The Queen's Shilling," and close by are two
+huge masks representing a couple of very hirsute individuals. They came
+from California, and represent "The King of the Devils" and "The King of
+the Winds."
+
+[Illustration: THE HALL. (_From a Photo, by Elliott & Fry._)]
+
+[Illustration: THE DINING ROOM. (_From a Photo, by Elliott & Fry._)]
+
+The entrance to the dining-room is typical of all the other door
+decoration in the house--a carving of cream enamel of beautiful design
+and workmanship. The walls of this apartment are terra-cotta, with a
+finely carved oak-panelling. It is a little treasure room of canvases,
+the gem of which is probably C. Van Hannen's "Mask Shop in Venice"--a
+painter of a school which Luke Fildes, R.A., has done so much to
+popularize. Macbeth is represented by a couple of delightful efforts,
+and there are samples of the skill of Eugene Du Blas, Crofts, John Reid,
+Andriotti, Sadler, De Haas, Rivers; a grand landscape by Webb--nearly
+all of which are Academy works. The decorative articles are as artistic
+as in some cases they are peculiar. Running about above the oaken
+fireplace, amongst choice bronzes and blue ware, and a black boy who is
+trudging along with a very useful clock on his back, are many quaint
+animals of polished brass--even mice are not missing, with wonderfully
+long tails--that sparkle and glisten in the firelight. Ascending the
+staircase you find etchings after Alma Tadema, Briton Riviere, and
+others; the walls are covered with them.
+
+[Illustration: SCENE FROM "THE SQUIRE." _From the Picture by Mr.
+Kendal._]
+
+Here are a series of delightful pictures showing Mr. and Mrs. Kendal in
+Gilbert's "Sweethearts," and I am reminded that the gifted actor and
+actress were the first to appear before the Queen after a period of
+five-and-twenty years, during which Her Majesty had never seen a play,
+the performance that night consisting of "Sweethearts" and Theyre
+Smith's "Uncle's Will." And as one takes note of many rare works--the
+bedroom is almost entirely given up to Dore's marvellous creations,
+though near the window is a splendid specimen of the photographer's art:
+a head of Miss Mary Anderson--one cannot fail to observe the family
+spirit everywhere--sometimes portraits of children, sometimes small and
+dainty pencil studies made of them by their father. Occasionally
+theatrical sketches by Mr. Kendal appear. Here are some of the principal
+members of the old St. James's Company, who used to give Mr. Kendal
+sittings between the acts--here a capital bit of artistic work depicting
+a scene from "The Squire," made from stray memorandums and with the aid
+of a looking-glass for securing the actor-artist's face.
+
+Leaving Mr. Kendal for a time, Mrs. Kendal and I returned to the
+drawing-room. It overlooks Harley Street and is a handsome two-roomed
+apartment, the prevailing tone of blue, cream, and gold harmonizing to
+perfection. It is positively one huge collection of curios.
+
+The screen at the far end is rather shuddery, not to say creepy, to
+those of nervous temperament. It is decorated with tomahawks of fearful
+and wonderful shapes and sizes, and other Indian implements of warfare.
+
+"These came from California," Mrs. Kendal explained. "No sooner are you
+out of the train than the Indians tomahawk you! Look at this bow and
+arrow."
+
+The pots of palms and ferns all hold American flags. These colours--the
+stars and stripes--once surmounted baskets of flowers and floral
+emblems--five, six, and even seven feet high--handed to Mrs. Kendal
+during her recent tour in the States; and amongst the sweetly-perfumed
+blossoms diamonds, pearls, and other precious gems have glistened in the
+shape of ornaments. A table near the window tells you of the generosity
+of the Americans. It is crowded with silver ornaments and mementos. You
+may handle the diminutive silver candlesticks to light "The Kendals"
+away--silver jugs, souvenir spoons, frying-pans, coffee-pots--all in
+miniature. This silver dollar is only one of a hundred. You touch a
+spring, when, lo and behold! the portrait of the donor appears. All
+American women have dainty feet. These little ebony and silver lasts for
+your boots remind you of this. On this table is a letter from the
+Princess of Wales, thanking Mrs. Kendal for "the lovely silver wedding
+bells and flowers which you so kindly sent me on the tenth." You may
+examine George IV.'s cigar-case--a silver tube in which the King was
+wont to carry a single cigar. It is impossible to number all the
+treasured odds and ends, but still more difficult to total up the
+miniature articles set out in a pair of cabinets.
+
+[Illustration: NAPOLEON'S WRITING-TABLE _From a Photo by Elliott &
+Fry._]
+
+[Illustration: "SHAKESPEARE AND BACON" _From the Picture by A. E.
+Emslie._]
+
+Mrs. Kendal has a hobby--it lies in the collecting of the tiniest of
+tiny things. If her intimate friends come across any curiosity
+particularly choice and small, it is at once snapped up and dispatched
+to Harley Street. I had some little leaden mice in my hand the size of
+half-a-dozen pins' heads. Handkerchiefs an inch square, babies' woollen
+shoes, pinafores, shirts, all of the tiniest, but perfectly made, with
+buttons and button-holes complete, and even buns with currants no bigger
+than a pin's point. Sheep, dogs, cats, monkeys, pigs, giraffes--in
+short, convert the entire Zoo into miniature china knick-knacks, and you
+have a considerable portion of Mrs. Kendal's collection realized. One
+must needs stand for a moment at Napoleon's writing-table, near which
+rests a characteristic clay by Van Beers. The pictures here are many.
+Millais' work is well represented by several etchings, and a remarkably
+clever thing by Emslie, entitled "Shakespeare and Bacon," suggests the
+two extremes of taste to a nicety. Whilst a young enthusiast is
+declaiming Shakespeare, one of his listeners--doubtless, equally
+enthusiastic, but with an eye for victuals--is interrupting a soliloquy
+with the remark: "Now! who says bacon?" Every portrait has a
+history--Prince and Princess Henry of Battenberg in their wedding
+garments, the late Duke of Albany, Professor Huxley, Mrs. Beecher
+Stowe, Mr. and Mrs. Pinero, Mr. and Mrs. Bancroft, and many others.
+Three suggestive pictures, however, cannot be passed by. This dear
+little fellow is the son of Mr. B. J. Farjeon. Mr. Farjeon married "Rip
+Van Winkle" Jefferson's daughter, and the youngster is pictured dressed
+in the tattered garments of merry, rollicking _Rip_. You know how _Rip_
+always drinks your health? He holds the glass of hollands high up and
+cries, "Here's your health and your family's good health, and may they
+all live long and prosper!" but Mr. Farjeon's little boy cries out,
+"Here's your health, and your family's good health, and may you all live
+long and _proper_!"
+
+[Illustration: GROUP IN CLAY BY JAN VAN BEERS.]
+
+[Illustration: MRS. KENDAL AS "GALATEA"]
+
+A photo, of Dr. Pancoast stands near a bust of Mrs. Kendal as _Galatea_,
+done when she was seventeen. Dr. Pancoast--a celebrated American
+physician--saved Mrs. Kendal's life when her maid accidentally
+administered a poisonous drug to her mistress. The poor girl herself
+nearly died of fright.
+
+But perhaps the portrait of the late Duchess of Cambridge, which Mrs.
+Kendal now holds in her hand, is more interesting than them all. "Her
+late Royal Highness," Mrs. Kendal said, "always addressed me and wrote
+to me as Mrs. Grimston. She was paralyzed in her right hand and wrote
+with her left; perhaps that is why this letter, written in pencil and
+with great effort, is treasured more than it otherwise would have been."
+
+It was one of the last letters written by Her Royal Highness. The
+letters and words were wonderfully legible; it read:--
+
+     "DEAR MRS. GRIMSTON,--One line only to thank you for sending me
+     the stalls for my dressers, who enjoyed your and Mr. Grimston's
+     charming acting immensely. My first deaf one was able to follow
+     perfectly, thanks to your having kindly let her have the book
+     previously. Again thanking you,
+
+    "I remain,
+
+        "Yours very sincerely,
+            AUGUSTA."
+
+
+
+And in a little cabinet in the far corner is a beautiful Sevres bowl. In
+the bowl is a telegram from "Princess Mary," asking Mrs. Kendal to come
+to St. James's Palace at once. Written on a black-edged envelope were
+these words: "To dearest Mrs. Grimston Kendal. A little souvenir. Found
+amongst the last wishes of her late Royal Highness the Duchess of
+Cambridge."
+
+It is only just possible to hasten through the collection of substantial
+reminiscences which add to the charm of this corner of the house. The
+quaint white china hare was given to Mrs. Kendal many years ago by Mr.
+John Hare, when playing together at the Court. A curious but vividly
+suggestive idea of Japanese wit, in the shape of a couple of
+characteristically dressed figures, typifies "Health" and "Wealth"; the
+figure, representing "Health" has a countenance of the deepest red, the
+other a face all golden and as resplendent as the sun. In a small frame
+is the letter from the Goethe Club of New York, making Mrs. Kendal an
+honorary member. She is the only woman member of this club. And this
+pretty little doll dressed as a Quakeress--a charming compliment to the
+recipient--was presented by the Quakeresses of Philadelphia, who never,
+never, never go the play, yea, verily! So they sent this as a tribute of
+their admiration for the talents and character of the woman who has been
+called "The Matron of the Drama."
+
+[Illustration: MRS. KENDALL'S LITTLE QUAKERESS.]
+
+We sat down on a settee in front of the fire. The cushions were of white
+lawn marked with the initial "M.," and were worked by the late Lady
+Eglinton.
+
+Mrs. Kendal's happy and homely face is familiar to all. She has a truly
+tender and sympathetic expression there at all times. Her hair was once
+that of the fair one with golden locks, now it is of a rich brown
+colour--very neatly and naturally trimmed about her head. She is very
+kind--very motherly; just the woman you would single out in time of
+trouble and ask, "What would you advise me to do?" I gathered these
+impressions whilst listening to many things she said of which I need not
+write. Her views on theatrical life are strong, nay, severe. She is not
+afraid to speak, and she hits hard and sends her shots home. But you
+cannot mistake the earnestness of her manner, the true intent of her
+motives.
+
+"I am only a common-place woman," she said to me. "I used to be ever so
+light-hearted--now, I'm a morbid creature. Here we are sitting down by
+the fireside. I may tell you happy reminiscences that may make one
+merry, and all the time I should be thinking about--what? Cancer! I
+return to my dressing-room from the stage at night. As I am passing
+along a fellow player may turn to me and say, 'How well the play has
+gone to-night!' I am only thinking of those who have trod that same
+stage before me. What are they now? Dust--earth--worms!"
+
+I stirred the fire, and the bright glow from its burning embers lit up
+the corner where we sat. And we talked together.
+
+Margaret Brunton Robertson was born at Great Grimsby on March 15th,
+1849--curiously enough these lines will be read on the anniversary of
+her birthday. Her grandfather, father, and uncle were all actors.
+
+"I lived alone with my father and mother," she said, "and the only real
+recollection I have of my father is his fine white beard, which he grew
+towards the latter days of his life, and a little advice he once gave
+me.
+
+"'Always count twenty,' he said, 'when you are walking across the quay
+at Bristol, then you won't hear the sailors swear!' Yet he would use
+very bad language to me when he was teaching me my parts; for you know I
+commenced acting at a very early age. I was only three when I made my
+first appearance--and I ruined the play. It was at the Marylebone
+Theatre in the 'Three Poor Travellers,' and I was a blind child. My
+nurse was in the front row of the pit--that is, in the very first row,
+for there were no stalls. All I thought about was my new shoes--a very
+pretty, dainty little pair, and as soon as I stepped on the stage, I
+opened my eyes, caught sight of the delighted face of my nurse, and
+cried out:--
+
+"'Oh! nursey, dear, look at my new shoes!'
+
+"I played at Chute's Theatre in Bristol in many child's parts. When my
+father went to the wall over the Lincoln Circuit, Mr. Chute engaged him
+as an actor, and I went with him. I remember in 'A Midsummer Night's
+Dream'--I was _Mustard Seed_, I think, or _Peas Blossom_; at any rate,
+some small character that required very prettily dressing, and plenty of
+flowers on my little costume. I am as fond of flowers to-day as I was
+then. Well, when once I got on the stage in my pretty dress--of which I
+was particularly proud--before I would leave it, I had to be bought off
+with apples and oranges! There they would stand at the wings, and the
+price would go up--up--up--two oranges, three oranges, three oranges
+and two apples--until I inwardly murmured a childish equivalent for
+'sold,' and toddled off.
+
+"I acted _Eva_ in 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' when I was eight. I think I was
+always a sad child--I looked forty when I was fifteen. After little
+_Eva_ I used to play anything."
+
+And they were hard times for little Madge--she worked like the brave
+little woman she was. Her childish thoughts were constantly with her
+parents--how best could she add to the weekly income. And this is what
+the same little Madge would do. Night after night, after playing in a
+serious piece, she would appear in burlesque, sing, dance, and crack her
+small jokes with the best of them. It was hard work that made her a
+woman--it was dearly-bought experience that gave birth to the
+sympathetic heart she has to-day.
+
+[Illustration: MRS. KENDAL. _From a Photo. by Bassano._]
+
+So at fourteen she was a woman grown--and at fifteen at Hull played
+_Lady Macbeth_ to Phelps's _Macbeth_!
+
+"I was dressed in my mother's clothes," Mrs. Kendal said, "and I fear I
+must have looked a fearful guy!"
+
+At rehearsal Phelps looked upon the young woman.
+
+"And who--who is this child?" asked the great actor.
+
+"Madge Robertson," the manager answered; "a rare favourite here. It was
+a choice between her and a very old woman, Mr. Phelps."
+
+"Then let the young woman play, by all means," Phelps said.
+
+What a night it was! At the end of the play they wanted her on again,
+but Phelps was obdurate. A party of men came round, and threatened to
+throw Phelps into the Humber! Phelps remained firm.
+
+"He was kindness itself through it all," Mrs. Kendal assured me, "and
+though I did not go on again, he proved his thoughtfulness a little
+later on by sending for me to play _Lady Teazle_. I played the leading
+parts during the three nights Phelps remained in Hull in 'The Man of the
+World,' 'Richelieu,' and 'Macbeth.' On July 29th, 1865, I made my
+_debut_ in London, at the Haymarket, as _Ophelia_ to the _Hamlet_ of
+Walter Montgomery. Poor Montgomery! He was what you would call a
+'lady-killer'--very conceited, but, withal, very kind. He once wrote a
+letter to my father, and added a postscript, saying: 'Keep this letter.
+Should poverty fall upon you or yours, your great-grand-children may be
+able to sell it for a good sum of money!' I was only with him six
+weeks."
+
+The only play of her brother's in which Mrs. Kendal has appeared was
+"Dreams," when the Gaiety first opened. At this time the managers always
+tried to induce Mrs. Kendal to appear in a riding habit--a costume in
+which she looked strikingly handsome.
+
+"Alfred Wigan played in 'Dreams,'" continued Mrs. Kendal. "His wife was
+one of the kindest women I ever met. She gave me a gold bracelet for a
+very curious little service I used to render her husband every night. He
+had to sing a song in 'Dreams,' and one or two of the high notes were
+beyond his reach. I used to take these notes for him, and the audience
+never guessed the truth."
+
+"And have you not played _Desdemona_?" I asked.
+
+"Oh! yes--and to a real black man, and so he did not have to put his
+head up the chimney to make himself up for the part! His name was Ira
+Aldridge, and scandal said he was the dresser of some great actor whom
+he used to imitate. But he had very ingenious ideas as to the character
+of _Othello_. He thought him a brute, and played him as such. His great
+notion was to get the fairest woman possible for _Desdemona_--and I was
+selected, for at that time my hair was quite golden.
+
+"In one part of the play he would cry out, 'Give me thy hand,
+Desdemona!' and certainly the effect of my hand in his huge grasp was
+impressive. Then in the last act he would pull me from the couch by the
+hair of my head. Oh! there was something in his realism, I can tell
+you!"
+
+Miss Robertson made a great sensation when she appeared as _Blanche
+Dumont_, in Dr. Westland Marston's "Hero of Romance," when it was
+performed for the first time at the Haymarket Theatre, on March 14th,
+1868. Seventeen months after this, on August 7th, 1869, she was Madge
+Robertson no longer. On that day she was married to Mr. William Hunter
+Grimston, whose stage name is Kendal. It is a charming little story.
+
+It occurred at Manchester. Mr. Kendal and Miss Robertson were on tour
+with the elder Compton, and they were--sweethearts. A convenient time
+seemed to have arrived for their wedding day, for on the Thursday,
+Friday, and Saturday nights pieces were to be played in which neither of
+them would be required. This would mean a nice little honeymoon--and the
+two lovers would reappear on the Monday night. So the day was
+fixed--Thursday; the church chosen--St. Saviour's, Plymouth Grove; and
+the best man booked--Walter Gowing, who used to play under the name of
+Walter Gordon.
+
+Then bad news came. Compton's brother was taken ill, and he had to hurry
+away from Cottonopolis. Another play had to be put in the bill, both Mr.
+Kendal and Miss Robertson would be needed--for it was "As You Like It,"
+and the one would be wanted for _Orlando_ and the other for _Rosalind_.
+Still, the wedding was proceeded with on Thursday morning, quietly and
+happily, and in the evening husband and wife met on the stage in the
+Forest of Arden. There, with _Celia_ as the priest, amidst the leafy
+trees and grassy pathways, _Orlando_ turns to the merry _Celia_, and
+pointing to the far, far happier _Rosalind_, cries out:--
+
+"Pray thee, marry us!"
+
+"Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rosalind?"
+
+"I will."
+
+"Then," _Rosalind_ pertly remarks, "you must say, 'I take thee,
+Rosalind, for wife.'"
+
+"I take thee, Rosalind, for wife," said _Orlando_, earnestly.
+
+Then _Rosalind_ asked, "Now tell me how long you would have her after
+you have possessed her?"
+
+And _Orlando_ replied--both in the words of Shakespeare and in the
+language of his own heart--"For ever and a day!"
+
+That is the true story of the wedding of Mr. and Mrs. Kendal. It was a
+natural desire of each never to play apart from the other, and from that
+day they have never separated. For some seven years Mr. and Mrs. Kendal
+played at the Haymarket, under Buckstone's management, and the gifted
+actress merrily referred to the little jokes played on "Bucky" by some
+of the actors. He was stone deaf, and could only take his cues when to
+speak from the movements of his fellow-actors' lips, so they would annoy
+him by continuing the lip movement, and "Bucky" sometimes got "stuck."
+
+[Illustration: THE DRAWING-ROOM. _From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+Little need be said of Mrs. Kendal's subsequent work--her acting at the
+Court, the Prince of Wales's, and her labours at the St. James's, when,
+in 1881, she appeared there under the joint management of Mr. Kendal and
+Mr. Hare. Not only in this country has her name become fondly familiar
+in the homes of those who "go to the theatre" and those who "never
+would," but in America the artistic acting of herself and husband has
+been instantly and enthusiastically recognised.
+
+I left the drawing-room--pausing, before entering Mr. Kendal's study, to
+admire the aviary--a veritable home of song--and to notice one
+diminutive member of the feathered tribe in particular, who has been
+taught by Miss Grimston to perform tricks _ad lib._, in addition to
+giving forth the sweetest of notes.
+
+The study is a very delicate apartment in terra-cotta and gold--here and
+there are quaint blue china vases and many exquisite bronzes. The window
+in the recess where the table is--a typical study table, suggesting
+plenty of work--is of stained glass, the quartet of divisions
+representing the four seasons. A glance round the walls of this room at
+once reveals the substantial side of Mr. Kendal's artistic
+hobby--pictures. In this apartment there is nothing but water-colours,
+save a very clever pen-and-ink sketch by a New York artist, called "Six
+Months After Marriage," which Jefferson caught sight of at the New York
+Dramatic Bazaar, and reminded Mr. Kendal to "keep his eye on," and a
+portrait or two of Mrs. Kendal and the children. "Hetty Sorrell" at her
+butter pats, with her thoughts very far from the churning-pan, is a gem.
+"The Last of St. Bartholomew" is a magnificent bit of painting, and the
+Venetian views at once carry one back to the home of the merry gondolier
+and perfect moonlight nights. This picture of Salvini--who its possessor
+assured me was the finest tragedian he had ever seen--was painted by Mr.
+Kendal himself. The bookcase, running along opposite the window,
+contains many rare first editions, of which Mr. Kendal is a very
+persevering and successful collector, and a bound manuscript copy of
+every play produced by him, together with the original sketches for the
+scenery. You may look over the "Scrap of Paper," "The Falcon," "Queen's
+Shilling," "Ladies' Battle," "Clancarty," "The Ironmaster," "The Money
+Spinner," and "The Squire"--Pinero's play, of which somebody wrote that
+it wafted the scent of the new-mown hay across the footlights.
+
+[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF SALVANI, BY MR. KENDAL.]
+
+It is interesting to learn how Mr. Kendal first came across Pinero.
+
+"I only knew him as an actor at the Lyceum," he said, "and had never met
+him. He wrote and asked if we would let him read a play to us. As a rule
+we never do that; but, remembering that Pinero was himself a player, we
+made an exception. So it came about that one day, after a rehearsal, the
+actor playwright read his piece to us in the _foyer_ of the St. James's.
+We never expected anything at first, but the reading ended in our taking
+the play immediately, though we scarcely knew what we should do with it,
+seeing it was a two-act play. We found an opportunity, however, and you
+know the success it was. It was called 'The Money Spinner.'"
+
+Mr. Kendal is a striking-looking man--the very ideal of a picturesque
+soldier, with a constitution of steel. He talks to you frankly, easily,
+for there is not two penny-worth of presumption about him. He lives and
+labours very quietly--he enjoys his days, and a good cigar. He divides
+his talents between the stage and the brush. His pencil and palette have
+been with him in far-off places, and there is always a corner in his
+bag for them if he only travels twenty miles from Harley Street. His
+peculiarity of painting--so to speak--lies in the fact that he never
+fails to chronicle the view obtained from any hotel where he may be
+staying. He showed me a book full of these hasty impressions--all of
+which were most beautifully done--many of them he could only give ten
+minutes or a quarter of an hour to. Two of these I brought away for
+reproduction in these pages; they are both unfinished, however--the
+pencil reminders of certain little additions tell that.
+
+[Illustration: SKETCH FROM THE QUEEN's HOTEL, MANCHESTER, BY MR.
+KENDAL.]
+
+The first of these is a view of the Infirmary as seen from Mr. Kendal's
+window at the Queen's Hotel, Manchester; the second--done in a quarter
+of an hour--shows the way the Americans erect their buildings for
+exhibiting a cyclorama--popularly known here as a panorama. It was done
+from a back window in an hotel in Cleveland, U.S.A. The actor-artist
+never learnt drawing, save for a few hours' lessons he took at the Slade
+Schools under the tuition of Le Gros. He draws everything that impresses
+him--his painting memory is remarkable. He sees a man's face in the
+street, carries it home in his mind, and it will be very faithfully put
+on paper or canvas.
+
+We talked for a long time on "pictures"--he was so happy and earnest
+about it that it was some time before we made an attempt to tread the
+boards and get behind the footlights.
+
+Mr. Kendal--William Hunter Grimston--was born at Notting Hill, and just
+outside the sound of Bow Bells, on December 16th, 1843. His parents
+belonged to the Low Church, and their views of the theatre in general,
+and on adopting the stage as a profession in particular, will be readily
+understood. Mr. Kendal was intended for the Army--how he came to "go on"
+the stage is best told in his own words:
+
+"I had only been to three or four pantomimes previously," he said, "and
+one night--I was about eighteen years of age at the time--I found myself
+in the stalls of the old Soho Theatre, in Dean Street, Soho, now known
+as the Royalty Theatre. My paper and pencil were out, and I was busily
+engaged in making sketches of the various actors and actresses. The
+piece was 'Billie Taylor.' Suddenly I felt a gentle tap on the shoulder
+from behind. I turned round.
+
+"'Would you allow me to take those sketches round and show the 'parties'
+interested?' a gentleman asked.
+
+"'Certainly; with pleasure,' I replied.
+
+"'Perhaps you would like to come behind the scenes as well?'
+
+"It was just what I wanted, so I followed the person who had so kindly
+interested himself in my scribble. He proved to be Mr. Mowbray, the
+manager of the theatre. The picture behind the scenes that night was a
+perfect Elysium to me. I think Mowbray must have noticed the impression
+it made upon me, for he asked if I would like to go on the stage. I
+did--as a sort of super."
+
+[Illustration: SKETCH FROM HOTEL WINDOW, CLEVELAND, U.S.A., BY MR.
+KENDAL.]
+
+Mr. Kendal's first important engagement lasted four or five years at the
+Theatre Royal, Glasgow. Here he met and played with such people as Helen
+Faucit (Lady Martin), G. V. Brooke, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Kean, Dion
+Boucicault, Fechter, Miss Bateman (Mrs. Crowe), and the elder Sothern.
+When Sothern left, the accomplished young actor played _Dundreary_, and
+found himself straying in the footsteps of the famous originator of the
+part, even to the hop. One would have thought that people would have
+praised the actor for taking such a worthy example--but it displeased
+Tom Taylor, and he wrote very wrathfully. Then Mr. Kendal went to the
+Haymarket, met Miss Robertson, and from their wedding day their lives
+may be said to have been the same in thought, word, and deed.
+
+As an organizer and man of business his tact and judgment were tested
+and proved during his joint management of the St. James's with Mr. Hare
+in 1881. For some time previous to this Mr. Kendal had been on the
+look-out for a theatre, and his mind wandered towards the St. James's,
+but it required a large sum of money spending on it before it could be
+opened.
+
+"One night I was talking to Lord Newry at my club," said Mr. Kendal,
+"and happened to say that if L2,000 or so were spent on the St. James's
+I might feel inclined to take it.
+
+"'Suppose I spend that amount of money on the place, will you take it?'
+Lord Newry asked.
+
+"My only reply was that I would think about it. In the meantime I went
+to the Court, from there to the Prince of Wales's to play in
+'Diplomacy'--it ran a year--'Peril' and 'London Assurance.' Then I
+returned to the Court again, and during this time Lord Newry had
+practically gutted the old and unlucky St. James's, turned it inside
+out--John Hare, my wife and self entered, and we remained there nearly
+ten years."
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Kendal share the same opinion of America--it is the land of
+to-day, the land of the future. As to its theatres in comparison with
+ours, Mrs. Kendal--who had now joined us--was most enthusiastic. I had
+reached the pillars, from which hung curtains of intricate Japanese
+workmanship, leading to the hall. Victoria, the Jubilee dog, was barking
+a friendly "Good-bye," and the lusty throats of Miss Grimston's
+two-and-twenty canaries forced their sweet notes from a far-away room
+into the passage.
+
+"I will give you some idea of what an American theatre is like," said
+Mrs. Kendal. "You reach your destination by rail at some small place for
+a one-night stay. If it is raining and the ground is wet, men in long
+jack-boots catch hold of you and gallantly take you across the puddles.
+You do not see a soul about--and you are in fear and trembling as to
+where your night's audience is coming from. You get to your hotel, and
+then your next thought is--where is the theatre? You expect to find a
+little, uncomfortable, band-box of a place, and you set out to see it
+with a heavy heart. It is a palace--a marble palace--a positive poem!
+And your heart leaps happily--only to drop dull again, for you suddenly
+remember that you have seen--nobody, not even the oldest inhabitant. You
+turn to the manager.
+
+"'Yes, yes--but, what about an audience, how are you going to fill it?'
+you ask.
+
+"'Wall,' he replies, 'I don't trouble myself much about that. I reckon
+that every seat in this theatre is sold for to-night, that's all!'"
+
+    HARRY HOW.
+
+[Illustration: MR. KENDAL. _From a Photo. by Maurice Stephens,
+Harrogat._]
+
+
+
+
+"_Author! Author_!"
+
+BY E. W. HORNUNG.
+
+
+This story has to do with two men and a play, instead of a woman, and it
+is none of mine. I had it from an old gentleman I love: only he ought to
+have written it himself. This, however, he will never do; having known
+intimately in his young days one of the two men concerned. But I have
+his leave to repeat the story more or less as he told it--if I can. And
+I am going to him for my rebuke--when I dare.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"You want to hear the story of poor old Pharazyn and his play? I'm now
+going to tell it you.
+
+"Ah, well! My recollection of the matter dates from one summer's night
+at my old rooms in the Adelphi, when he spoilt my night's work by coming
+in flushed with an idea of his own. I remember banging the drawer into
+which I threw my papers to lock them away for the night; but in a few
+minutes I had forgotten my unfinished article, and was glad that
+Pharazyn had come. We were young writers, both of us; and, let me tell
+you, my good fellow, young writing wasn't in those days what it is now.
+I am thinking less of merit than of high prices, and less of high prices
+than of cheap notoriety. Neither of us had ever had our names before the
+public--not even in the advertised contents of an unread and unreadable
+magazine. No one cared about names in my day, save for the half-dozen
+great ones that were then among us; so Pharazyn's and mine never used to
+appear in the newspapers, though some of them used our stuff.
+
+"In a manner we were rivals, for we were writing the same sort of thing
+for the same sort of publications, and that was how we had come
+together; but never was rivalry friendlier, or mutually more helpful.
+Our parts were strangely complementary; if I could understand for the
+life of me the secret of collaboration, which has always been a mystery
+to me, I should say that I might have collaborated with Pharazyn almost
+ideally. I had the better of him in point of education, and would have
+turned single sentences against him for all he was worth; and I don't
+mind saying so, for there my superiority ended. When he had a story to
+tell, he told it with a swing and impetus which I coveted him, as well I
+might to this day; and if he was oftener without anything to write
+about, his ideas would pay twenty shillings in the pound, in strength
+and originality, where mine made some contemptible composition in pence.
+That is why I have been a failure at fiction--oh, yes, I have! That is
+why Pharazyn would have succeeded, if only he had stuck to plain
+ordinary narrative prose.
+
+[Illustration: "HE SKETCHED THE NEW STORY."]
+
+"The idea he was unable to keep within his own breast, on the evening of
+which I am telling you, was as new, and simple, and dramatic as any that
+ever intoxicated the soul of story-teller or made a brother author green
+with envy. I can see him now, as I watched him that night, flinging to
+and fro with his quick, nervous stride, while he sketched the new
+story--bit by bit, and often the wrong bit foremost; but all with his
+own flashing vividness, which makes me so sorry--so sorry whenever I
+think of it. At moments he would stand still before the chair on which I
+sat intent, and beat one hand upon the other, and look down at me with a
+grand, wondering smile, as though he himself could hardly believe what
+the gods had put into his head, or that the gift was real gold, it
+glittered so at first sight. On that point I could reassure him. My open
+jealousy made me admire soberly. But when he told me, quite suddenly, as
+though on an afterthought, that he meant to make a play of it and not a
+story, I had the solid satisfaction at that moment of calling him a
+fool.
+
+"The ordinary author of my day, you see, had a certain timorous respect
+for the technique of the stage. It never occurred to us to make light of
+those literary conventions which it was not our business to understand.
+We were behind you fellows in every way. But Pharazyn was a sort of
+forerunner: he said that any intelligent person could write a play, if
+he wanted to, and provided he could write at all. He said his story was
+a born play; and it was, in a way; but I told him I doubted whether he
+could train it up with his own hand to be a good-acting one. I knew I
+was right. He had neither the experience nor the innate constructive
+faculty, one or other of which is absolutely necessary for the writing
+of possible plays. I implored him to turn the thing into a good dramatic
+novel, and so make his mark at one blow. But no; the fatal fit was on
+him, and I saw that it must run its course. Already he could see and
+hear his audience laughing and crying, so he said, and I daresay he
+could also feel the crinkle of crisp weekly receipts. I only know that
+we sat up all night over it, arguing and smoking and drinking whisky
+until my windows overlooking the river caught the rising sun at an
+angle. Then I gave in. For poor old Pharazyn was more obstinate than
+ever, though he thanked me with the greatest good temper for my
+well-meant advice.
+
+"'And look here, my boy,' says he, as he puts on his hat, 'you shan't
+hear another word about this till the play's written; and you are to ask
+no questions. Is that a bargain? Very well, then. When I've finished
+it--down to the very last touches--_you_ shall come and sit up all night
+with _me_, and I'll read you every word. And by gad, old chap, if they
+give me a call the first night, and want a speech--and I see you sitting
+in your stall, like a blessed old fool as you are--by gad, sir, I'll
+hold up you and your judgment to the ridicule of the house, so help me
+never!'
+
+[Illustration: "I COULD SMELL HIS PIPE THROUGH THE KEYHOLE."]
+
+"Well, I am coming to that first night presently. Meanwhile, for the
+next six months, I saw very little of Pharazyn, and less still in the
+new year. He seldom came to my rooms now; when he did I could never get
+him to stay and sit up with me; and once when I climbed up to his garret
+(it was literally that), he would not answer me, though I could smell
+his pipe through the key-hole, in which he had turned the key. Yet he
+was perfectly friendly whenever we did meet. He said he was working very
+hard, and indeed I could imagine it; his personal appearance, which he
+had never cherished, being even untidier, and I am obliged to add
+seedier, than of old. He continued to send me odd magazines in which his
+stuff happened to appear, or occasionally a proof for one's opinion and
+suggestions; we had done this to each other all along; but either I did
+not think about it, or somehow he led me to suppose that his things were
+more or less hot from the pen, whereas many of mine had been written a
+twelvemonth before one saw them in type. One way or another, I gathered
+that he was at work in our common groove, and had shelved, for the
+present at all events, his proposed play, about which you will remember
+I had undertaken to ask no questions.
+
+"I was quite mistaken. One night in the following March he came to me
+with a haggard face, a beaming eye, and a stout, clean manuscript, which
+he brought down with a thud on my desk. It was the play he had sketched
+out to me eight or nine months before. I was horrified to hear he had
+been at work upon it alone from that night to this. He had written, so
+he said, during all this time, not another line, only each line of his
+play some ten times over.
+
+"I recollect looking curiously at his shabby clothes, and then reminding
+him that it was at his place, not mine, I was to have heard him read the
+play: and how he confessed that he had no chair for me there--that his
+room was, in fact, three parts dismantled--that he had sacrificed
+everything to the play, which was worth it. I was extremely angry. I
+could have helped him so easily, independent as I was of the calling I
+loved to follow. But there was about him always an accursed, unnecessary
+independence, which has since struck me--and I think I may say so after
+all these years--as the mark of a rather humble, very honest origin.
+
+"He read me the play, and I cried over the third act, and so did he. I
+thought then, and still think, that there was genius in that third
+act--it took you off your feet. And to me, certainly, it seemed as if
+the piece must act as well as it read, though indeed, as I took care to
+say and to repeat, my opinion was well-nigh valueless on that point. I
+only knew that I could see the thing playing itself, as I walked about
+the room (for this time I was the person who was too excited to sit
+still), and that was enough to make one sanguine. I became as
+enthusiastic about it as though the work were mine (which it never,
+never would or could have been), yet I was unable to suggest a single
+improvement, or to have so much as a finger-tip in the pie. Nor could I
+afterwards account for its invariable reception at the hands of
+managers, whose ways were then unknown to me. That night we talked only
+of one kind of reception. We were still talking when the sun came
+slanting up the river to my windows; you could hardly see them for
+tobacco-smoke, and we had emptied a bottle of whisky to the success of
+Pharazyn's immortal play.
+
+[Illustration: "HIS MANUSCRIPT RAGGED BUT UNREAD."]
+
+"Oh, those nights--those nights once in a way! God forgive me, but I'd
+sacrifice many things to be young again and feel clever, and to know the
+man who would sit up all night with me to rule the world over a bottle
+of honest grog. In the pale light of subsequent revelations I ought,
+perhaps, to recall such a night, with that particular companion,
+silently and in spiritual ashes. But it is ridiculous, in my opinion, to
+fit some sort of consequence to every little insulated act; nor will I
+ever admit that poor Pharazyn's ultimate failing was in any appreciable
+degree promoted or prepared for by those our youthful full-souled
+orgies. I know very well that afterwards, when his life was spent in
+waylaying those aforesaid managers, in cold passages, on stage
+doorsteps, or, in desperation, under the public portico on the street;
+and when a hundred snubs and subterfuges would culminate in the return
+of his manuscript, ragged but unread: I know, and I knew then, that the
+wreck who would dodge me in Fleet Street, or cut me in the Strand, had
+taken to his glass more seriously and more steadily than a man should.
+But I am not sure that it matters much--_much_, you understand me--when
+that man's heart is broken.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"The last words I was ever to exchange with my poor old friend keep
+ringing in my head to this day, whenever I think of him; and I can
+repeat them every one. It was some few years after our intimacy had
+ceased, and when I only knew that he had degenerated into a Fleet Street
+loafer of the most dilapidated type, that I caught sight of him one day
+outside a theatre. It was the theatre which was for some years a
+gold-mine to one Morton Morrison, of whom you may never have heard; but
+he was a public pet in his day, I can tell you, and his day was just
+then at its high noon. Well, there stood Pharazyn, with his hands in his
+pockets and a cutty-pipe sticking out between his ragged beard and
+moustache, and his shoulders against the pit door, so that for once he
+could not escape me. But he wouldn't take a hand out of his pocket to
+shake mine; and when I asked him how he was, without thinking, he
+laughed in my face, and it made me feel cruel. He was dreadfully
+emaciated, and almost in rags. And as I wondered what I ought to do, and
+what to say next, he gave a cough, and spat upon the pavement, and I
+could see the blood.
+
+[Illustration: "THERE STOOD PHARAZYN."]
+
+"I don't know what you would have done for him--but for all I knew what
+had brought him to this, I could think of nothing but a drink. It was
+mid-winter, and I tell you the man was in rags. I felt that if I could
+get him to a bar he might eat something, too, and that I should get a
+hold of him this time which I would never again let go. Judge of my
+surprise when he flatly refused to come with me even for a drink.
+
+"'Can't you see? he said in his hollow voice. 'There'll be a crowd here
+directly, and I want the best seat in the pit--the best in the house.
+I've been going dry for it these two days, and I'm going dry till I've
+seen the piece. No, I've been here an hour already, and there's three
+hours more, I know; but I'm not going to risk it, thanks all the same.'
+
+"By this I had remembered that Morton Morrison was to re-open that night
+with a new piece. Indeed, I ought not to have forgotten that, seeing
+that I had my order about me somewhere, and it meant a column from my
+pen between twelve and one that night. But this sudden, sorry meeting
+had put all other thoughts out of my head.
+
+"'My dear fellow,' I said, with a sort of laugh, 'are you a
+first-nighter, too?'
+
+"'Only at this theatre.'
+
+"He looked me queerly in the face.
+
+"'You admire Morrison very much?'
+
+"'I love him!'
+
+"I suppose my eyes thawed him, though God knows how hard I was trying
+not to hurt him with pitying looks. At all events he began to explain
+himself of his own accord, very impetuously; indeed I rather think the
+outburst was purely involuntary.
+
+"'Look here,' he said, with his hoarse voice lowered: 'I hoped never to
+see your face again. I hoped you'd never see mine. But now you are here,
+don't go this minute, and I'll tell you why I think so much of Morton
+Morrison. I don't know him, mind you--he doesn't know me from Adam--but
+once long ago I had something to do with him. And God bless him, but
+damn every other manager in London, for he was the only one of the lot
+that gave me a civil hearing and a kind word!'
+
+"I knew what he was talking about, and he knew that I knew, for we had
+understood one another in the old days.
+
+"'I took it to him last of all,' he went on, wiping his damp lips with
+his hand. 'When I began hawking it about he was an unknown man; when his
+turn came he was here. He let me read it to him. Then he asked me to
+leave it with him for a week; and when I went back to him, he said what
+they had all said--that it would never act! But Morton Morrison said it
+nicely. And when he saw how it cut me up, into little bits, he got me to
+tell him all about everything; and then he persuaded me to burn the
+play, instead of ruining my life for it; and I burnt it in his
+dressing-room fire, but the ruin was too far gone to mend. I wrote that
+thing with my heart's blood--old man, you know I did! And none of them
+would think of it! My God! But Morrison was good about it--he's a good
+soul--and that's why you'll see me at every first night of his until the
+drink finishes its work.'
+
+"I had not followed him quite to the end. One thing had amazed me too
+much.
+
+"'You burnt your play,' I could only murmur, 'when it would have turned
+into such a novel! Surely you have some draft of it still?'
+
+"'I burnt the lot when I got home,' Pharazyn replied; 'and by-and-by I
+shall join 'em and burn too!'
+
+"I had nothing to answer to that, and was, besides, tenacious of my
+point. 'I don't think much of the kindness that makes one man persuade
+another to burn his work and throw up the sponge,' said I, with a good
+deal of indignation, for I did feel wroth with that fellow Morrison--a
+bread-and-butter drawing-room actor, whose very vogue used to irritate
+me.
+
+[Illustration: "WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THIS?"]
+
+"'Then what do you think of this?' asked Pharazyn, as he dipped a hand
+within his shabby coat, and cautiously unclenched it under my nose.
+
+"'Why, it's a five-pound note!'
+
+"'I know; but wasn't _that_ kind, then?'
+
+"'So Morrison gave you this!' I exclaimed.
+
+"Two or three persons had stopped to join us at the pit door, and
+Pharazyn hastily put the note back in his pocket. As he did so, his
+dreadfully shabby condition gave my heart a fresh cut.
+
+"'Are you never going to spend that?' I asked in a whisper; and in a
+whisper he answered:--
+
+"'Never! It is all my play has brought me--all. It was given me as a
+charity, but I took it as my earnings--my earnings for all the work and
+waiting, and blood and tears, that one thing cost me. Spend it? Not I!
+It will bury me as decently as I deserve.'
+
+"We could converse no more. And the presence of other people prevented
+me from giving him my overcoat, though I spoke of it into his ear,
+begging and imploring him to come away and take it while there was still
+time for him to clip back and get a seat in the front row. But he would
+not hear of it, and the way he refused reminded me of his old stubborn
+independence; all I got was a promise that he would have a bite with me
+after the performance. And so I left him in the frosty dusk, ill-clad
+and unkempt, with the new-lit lamp over the pit door shining down upon
+the haggard mask that had once been the eager, memorable face of my
+cleverest friend.
+
+"I saw him next the moment I entered the theatre that evening, and I
+nodded my head to him, which he rebuked with the slightest shake of his
+own. So I looked no more at him before the play began, comprehending
+that he desired me not to do so. The temptation, however, was too strong
+to go on resisting, for while Pharazyn was in the very centre of the
+front row in the pit, I was at one end of the last row of the stalls;
+and I was very anxious about him, wanting to make sure that he was there
+and not going to escape me again, and nervous of having him out of my
+sight for five minutes together.
+
+"Thus I know more about the gradual change which came over Pharazyn's
+poor face, as scene followed scene, than of the developments and merits
+of those scenes themselves. My mind was in any case running more on my
+lost friend than on the piece; but it was not till near the end of the
+first act that the growing oddity of his look first struck me.
+
+"His eyebrows were raised; it was a look of incredulity chiefly; yet I
+could see nothing to impale for improbability in the play as far as it
+had gone. I was but lightly attending, for my own purposes, as you
+youngsters skim your betters for review; but thus far the situation
+struck me as at once feasible and promising. Also it seemed not a little
+familiar to me; I could not say why, for watching Pharazyn's face. And
+it was his face that told me at last, in the second act. By God, it was
+his own play!
+
+"It was Pharazyn's play, superficially altered all through, nowhere
+substantially; but the only play for me, when I knew that, was being
+acted in the front row of the pit, and not on the stage, to which I had
+turned the side of my head. I watched my old friend's face writhe and
+work until it stiffened in a savage calm; and watching, I thought of the
+'first night' he had pictured jovially in the old days, when the bare
+idea of the piece was bursting his soul; and thinking, I wondered
+whether it could add a drop to his bitterness to remember that too.
+
+"Yet, through all my thoughts, I was listening, intently enough, now.
+And in the third act I heard the very words my friend had written: they
+had not meddled with his lines in the great scene which had moved us
+both to tears long ago in my rooms. And this I swear to, whether you
+believe it or no--that at the crisis of that scene, which was just as
+Pharazyn made it, the calm ferocity transfiguring his face died away all
+at once, and I saw it shining with the sweetest tears our eyes can
+shed--the tears of an artist over his own work.
+
+"And when the act was over he sat with his head on his hand for some
+minutes, drinking in the applause, as I well knew; then he left his seat
+and squeezed out on my side of the house, and I made sure he was coming
+to speak to me over the barrier; and I got up to speak to him; but he
+would not see me, but stood against the barrier with a mien as white and
+set as chiselled marble.
+
+"What followed on the first fall of the curtain I shall relate as
+rapidly as it happened. Louder call for an author I never heard, and I
+turned my eyes to the stage in my intense curiosity to see who would
+come forward; for the piece had been brought out anonymously; and I
+divined that Morrison himself was about to father it. And so he did; but
+as the lie passed his lips, and in the interval before the applause--the
+tiny interval between flash and peal--the lie was given him in a roar of
+fury from my left; there fell a thud of feet at my side, and Pharazyn
+was over the barrier and bolting down the gangway towards the stage. I
+think he was near making a leap for the footlights and confronting
+Morrison on his own boards; but the orchestra came between, and the
+fiddlers rose in their places. Then he turned wildly to us pressmen, and
+I will say he had our ear, if not that of the whole house besides, for
+the few words he was allowed to utter.
+
+"'Gentlemen!' he cried at the top of his voice--'Gentlemen, I'm one of
+you! I'm a writing man like yourselves, and I wrote this play that
+you've seen. That man never wrote it at all--I wrote it myself! That man
+has only altered it. I read it to him two years ago--two years ago,
+gentlemen! He kept it for a week, and then got me to burn it as
+rubbish--when he had made a copy of it! And he gave me this,
+gentlemen--he gave me this that I give him back!'
+
+"It was a matter of only a few seconds, but not till my own last hour
+shall I forget Morrison's painted face on the stage, or that sweating
+white one beneath the boxes; or the fluttering from Pharazyn's poor
+fingers of the five-pound note he had treasured for two years; or the
+hush all over the house until the first hand was laid upon his dirty
+collar.
+
+"'What!' he screamed, 'do none of you believe me? Will none of you stand
+by me--isn't there a man--not one man among you----'
+
+"And they threw him out with my name on his lips. And I followed, and
+floored a brute who was handling him roughly. And nothing happened to
+me--because of what happened to Pharazyn!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The dear old boy sat silent, his grey head on his hand. Presently he
+went on, more to himself than to me: "What could I do? What proof had I?
+He had burnt them every one. And as long as the public would stand him,
+Morrison kept his good name at least. And that play was his great
+success!"
+
+[Illustration: "HE GAVE ME THIS."]
+
+I ventured gently to inquire what had happened to Pharazyn.
+
+"He died in my arms," my old friend cried, throwing up his head with an
+oath and a tear. "He died in a few minutes, outside the theatre. I could
+hear them clapping after he was dead--clapping his piece."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Zig Zags at the Zoo: Conkavian
+
+
+If the gentle reader, full of a general desire for knowledge and a
+particular enthusiasm for natural history, will refer to any one of the
+great standard works on birds, and, turning to the index, seek for the
+family title of the Conkaves, I have every hope and confidence that he
+will not find it; because, as a matter of fact, it is a little invention
+of my own, and, I may modestly urge, rather a neat thing in scientific
+nomenclature, on the whole. It has the advantage of including in one
+family the storks and the pelicans, which in all orthodox books on birds
+are planted far apart and out of sight of each other, with many orders,
+tribes, and families between. Under my title they are gathered amicably
+together in the common possession of very long bills, like two tailors
+on a man's doorstep. The word is derived, in the proper and regular
+manner, from ancient sources; from _conk_, a venerable Eastern word,
+signifying a nose or beak, and the Latin _avis_, a bird. And I offer
+the term freely as my humble, but I trust useful, contribution to
+science; my first contribution.
+
+The stork is regarded, in many countries, with a certain
+semi-superstitious reverence and esteem. After many prolonged and
+serious attempts to saturate myself with a similar feeling, I regret to
+confess to a certain smallness of esteem for the stork. You can't esteem
+a bird that makes ugly digs at your feet and heels with such a very big
+beak. Out in their summer quarters the storks are kept in by close wire,
+and close wire will give an air of inoffensiveness to most things. But,
+away in a by-yard, with a gate marked "private," there stands a shed
+wherein the storks are kept warm in winter, behind wooden bars; and
+between these bars stork-heads have a way of dropping at the toes of the
+favoured passer-by, like to action of a row of roadmen's picks.
+
+[Illustration: PICKS AND CHEWS.]
+
+The stork has come off well in the matter of bodily endowment. The
+pelican has a tremendous beak--achieved, it would seem, by a skimping of
+material in the legs; but the stork has the tremendous beak and legs of
+surprising growth as well. His wings, too, are something more than
+respectable. At flying, at eating, at portentous solemnity of
+demeanour--in all these and in other things the pelican and the stork
+score fairly evenly; but at walking the pelican is left behind at once.
+This makes one suspect the stork's honesty. The pelican has a good beak
+and wings, and pays for them, like an honest bird, out of its legs, just
+as the ostrich pays for its neck and legs out of its wings. But the
+stork is abnormally lucky in beak, neck, legs, and wings together, and
+even then has material left to lay out in superfluous knobs and wens to
+hang round its neck, which leads to a suspicion that many of its
+personal fittings belong properly to some other bird. I've a notion that
+the unlucky kiwi might identify some of the property.
+
+[Illustration: THE PELICAN LEFT.]
+
+[Illustration: ARMY.]
+
+Perhaps the adjutant should be acknowledged king of the conkavians.
+Billy, the Zoo adjutant, has, I believe, no doubt on the subject at all.
+Billy is an ornament to the military profession--a very fine fellow,
+with a thing on the back of his neck like a Tangerine orange, and a wen
+on the front of it, which he can blow out whenever he wants to amuse
+himself, and everything else handsome about him. He is an old soldier,
+too, is Billy, having been Adjutant of the Regent's Park Conkavian Corps
+for seventeen years; but if you knew nothing of his age, still you would
+call Billy an old soldier--upon a little acquaintance with his habits.
+
+[Illustration: LAW.]
+
+There seems no valid reason why the professional aspirations of the
+stork should be restricted to the army. If an adjutant, why not a dean?
+Why not a proctor? There is the making of a most presentable don about a
+stork; and I have caught a stork in an attitude of judicial meditation
+that might do honour to any bench. There is no reason why "sober as a
+judge" should not be made to read "sober as a stork," except that the
+stork is the more solemn creature of the two; and I think that some
+species of stork--say the marabou, for instance--might fairly claim
+brevet rank as judge, after the example of the adjutant. The elevation
+of a beak to the bench might be considered an irregular piece of legal
+procedure; but, bless you, it's nothing unusual with a stork. Put any
+bench with something to eat on it anywhere within reach of a stork's
+beak in this place, and you shall witness that same elevation, precedent
+or no precedent.
+
+[Illustration: UNIVERSITIES.]
+
+A common white stork hasn't half the solid gravity of an adjutant or a
+marabou. He has a feline habit of expressing his displeasure by blowing
+and swearing--a habit bad and immoral in a cat, but worse in a stork
+accustomed to Church. Church, by-the-bye, is the keeper of all the
+conkavians, as well as of the herons, the flamingoes, the ibises, the
+egrets, and a number of other birds with names more difficult to spell.
+It is impossible to treat disrespectfully a man with such widespread
+responsibilities as this, or there might be a temptation to mention that
+he is not an unusually high Church, although his services are not always
+simple, often involving a matter of doctorin'. But, then, some people
+will say anything, temptation or none. And after all, it is pleasant to
+know that, whatever a stork or a pelican wants, he always goes to
+Church.
+
+[Illustration: SWEARING.]
+
+[Illustration: CHURCH.]
+
+This being the case, there is a proverb about cleanliness that makes one
+wonder why the marabou stork doesn't wash himself. It isn't as though he
+never wanted it. I have a horrible suspicion about this philosophic old
+sloven. I believe his profession of philosophic contemplation is
+assumed, because it is the easiest excuse for indolence. Now, a pelican
+is not a bird of graceful outline, but he _is_ careful about his
+feathers. The pelican is a scrupulous old Dutchman, and the stork is an
+uncleanly old Hindu. And uncleanly he must be left, for it takes a deal
+to shame a stork. You can't shame a bird that wraps itself in a
+convenient philosophy. "Look here--look at me!" you can imagine a
+pelican cleanliness-missionary saying to the stork. "See how white and
+clean I keep all my feathers!" "Um," says the stork, "it only makes 'em
+a different colour." "But observe! I just comb through my pinions with
+my beak, so, and they all lie neat and straight!" "Well, and what's the
+good of that?" grunts the stork. "And then you see," says the pelican,
+ignoring the question, "with a good long beak you can reach everywhere,
+over your back and under your wings; see, I'm as clean under my wings as
+anywhere else, although it's covered up!" "Beastly vanity," growls the
+old Hindu, getting bored. "Then," continues the Dutchman, "you give
+yourself a good shake, and there you are!" "And then," says the
+philosopher sarcastically, "to-morrow, I suppose, you'll have to do it
+all over again?" "Of course!" "Oh! I hate a fool!" says the stork, and
+closes the lecture.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Thus the marabou. The ordinary white stork is comparatively respectable,
+and so is the adjutant--or comparatively almost respectable, let us say;
+you can't be too cautious in giving a personal character to a stork.
+For long, long, the stork has enjoyed a reputation for solemn wisdom,
+for philosophical dignity. Now for the first time I venture to question
+this reputation--to impeach the stork as a humbug. It is easy to achieve
+a reputation for profound and ponderous wisdom, so long as one looks
+very solemn and says nothing. This is the stork's recipe. Go up to Billy
+here, or one of the marabous, as he stands with his shoulders humped up
+about his head, and make a joke. He won't see it. He will lift his
+eyebrows with a certain look of contempt, and continue to
+cogitate--about nothing. If the joke is a very bad pun--such a frightful
+pun that even a stork will see and resent it--perhaps he will chatter
+his beak savagely, with a noise like the clatter of the lid on an empty
+cigar-box; but he will continue his sham meditations. "Ah, my friend,"
+he seems to say, "you are empty and frivolous--I cogitate the profounder
+immensities of esoteric cogibundity." The fact being that he is very
+seedy after his previous night's dissipation.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+That is the chief secret of the stork's solemnity, I am convinced. He
+has a certain reputation to maintain before visitors, but after hours,
+when the gates are shut and the keepers are not there to see, the
+marabou stork is a sad dog. I haven't quite made up my mind what he
+drinks, but if he has brandies and sodas he leaves out too much soda.
+Look at that awful nose! It is long past the crimson and pimply
+stage--it is taking a decided tinge of blue. It _looks_ worse than
+brandy and soda--almost like bad gin--but we will be as charitable as
+possible, and only call it brandy and soda.
+
+I should like to see the marabou stork on his nightly ran-tan, if only
+to gloat over his lapse of dignity, just as one would give much to see
+Benjamin Franklin with his face blacked, drunk and disorderly and being
+locked up. But, as a shocking example, the marabou is quite bad enough
+with his awful head in the morning; his awful head and his disreputable
+nose, that looks to want a good scraping. I respect Billy, the adjutant,
+for his long service and the Tangerine at the back of his neck. The
+ordinary stork (although he swears and snaps) I also respect, because
+the goody books used to tell pious lies about him. The whale-headed
+stork, which is also called the shoe-bird, I respect as a sort of
+relative of the shoo-fly that didn't bother somebody. But the marabou
+has forfeited all respect--converted it into nose-tint. I must talk to
+Church seriously about the marabou.
+
+[Illustration: THE RAN-TAN.]
+
+Now, the pelican is no humbug. There is nothing like concealment about
+his little dissipations; and he is perfectly sober. Any little
+irregularity at the pelican club just opposite the eastern aviary never
+goes beyond a quiet round or two for a little fish dinner. It is quite a
+select and a most proper club. Indeed, the first rule is, that if any
+loose fish be found on the club premises, he is got rid of at once by
+the first member who detects him. And the club spirit is such that
+disputes frequently occur among members for the honour of carrying out
+this salutary rule. The chairman of the club is an old crested pelican,
+who, by some oversight, has never been provided with a private name of
+his own. I think he should be called Peter, because he can take such a
+miraculous draught of fishes. It _is_ a draught; you know--a pelican
+doesn't eat fishes--he drinks them down in bulk. For Peter, a dozen or
+so fresh herrings is a mere swill round of the mouth.
+
+[Illustration: A QUIET ROUND OR TWO.]
+
+Peter walks about the club premises with much dignity, deferred to on
+all sides by the other members. His kingship is rarely disputed, having
+been achieved by the sort of conquest most familiar in the pelican club;
+and his divine right is as much respected as his tremendous left.
+
+A pelican never bears malice; he hasn't time, especially now, with
+competition so keen in the fish business, and Church's fish pails only
+of the ordinary size. There is never any ill-feeling after a little
+spar, and each proceeds, in the most amicable way, to steal some other
+pelican's fish. A spar at this club, by-the-bye, is a joyous and
+hilarious sight. Two big birds with stumpy legs and top-heavy beaks,
+solemnly prancing and manoeuvring before one another with an
+accompaniment of valiant gobbles and a punctuation of occasional
+pecks--a gleesome spectacle.
+
+[Illustration: PETER.]
+
+[Illustration: A SWILL ROUND.]
+
+Another sport much exhibited at the pelican club is that of
+the broadsword. The school of fence is that of Mr. Vincent
+Crummies--one--two--three--four--over; one--two--three--four--under.
+You see, when a dozen or two birds with beaks a couple of feet long or
+so get together in a small area, and now and again rush all in the same
+direction for fish, fencing is certain to develop, sooner or later. So
+here you have it, _secundum artem_--one--two--three--four--over;
+one--two--three--four--under; and although none have yet attained the
+Crummleian degree of knocking out sparks, there is a deal of hollow
+noise, as of thumping on a wooden box. But there is never any
+after-malice, and in less than five minutes either combatant will
+swallow a fish rightfully belonging to the other, with perfect
+affability.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+There is a good deal of the philosopher about the pelican, and of a more
+genuine sort than characterizes the stork. The pelican always makes the
+best of a bad job, without going into an unnecessary tantrum over it. If
+another member of the club snatches a fish first, the pelican doesn't
+bother, but devotes his attention to the next that Church throws; a fish
+in the pouch is worth a shoal in somebody else's. Now and again Peter
+loses his temper for a moment if the others catch the first snack, and
+lays about him with his bill--but then, when a fellow's chairman, and a
+lot of other fellows come snatching the lunch from under his nose--why,
+hang it all, you know.... But it is only for a moment, and Peter is soon
+in position for the next pouchful. He is artful about this position.
+When Church appears at the rails with a pailful of fish most of the
+members rush to those rails, jostle together and shove their beaks
+through them and over them--any way to get nearer the pail. But the
+chairman knows very well that Church doesn't throw the fish outside the
+rails, but into the inclosure, somewhere near the middle; and near the
+middle the sagacious Peter waits, to his early profit--unless Church is
+unusually slow about throwing the fish, in which case Peter is apt to
+let his excitement steal his sagacity, and to rush into the pell-mell,
+anxious to investigate the delay.
+
+[Illustration: A LITTLE SOLEING AND HEELING.]
+
+There is a deal of excellent wear in a pelican. One has been here about
+thirty years, and two more have been established on the same premises
+for a quarter of a century. All these three are in capital working
+repair and will probably last, with a patch or two, and a little soleing
+and heeling, for a century or two more; no respectable pelican is ever
+bowled out for less than three figures.
+
+In the winter the club takes up its quarters in the shed behind the
+inclosure; a shed sumptuously furnished with certain benches and forms,
+whereon the club stands in rows, with a general appearance of a number
+of very solemn naughty boys in a Board school. In winter, too, Church
+will often put his bucketful of fish on the ground, so that the club may
+dine in a clubbier way. But whether you watch this club feeding together
+from the pail, each member doing his best to put away the whole pailful
+at a gulp, or whether you observe them playing a sort of greedy game of
+lacrosse with fish which Church throws them, you will be equally amazed
+that the pelican was used as a symbol of charity and brotherly love in
+early and middle Christian art.
+
+[Illustration: SCHOOL.]
+
+[Illustration: CLUB DINNER.]
+
+I have seen a pelican enact a most instructive moral lesson at a
+pail-dinner. Observe the bill and pouch of a pelican. The pouch is an
+elastic fishing-net, and the lower mandible is a mere flexible frame to
+carry it. Now, I have observed a pelican to make a bounce at the
+fish-pail, with outspread wings, and scoop the whole supply. But then
+his trouble began. The whole catch hung weightily low in the end of the
+pouch, and jerk and heave as he might, he could never lift the load at
+the end of that long beak sufficiently high to bolt it. Meanwhile, his
+friends collected about him and remonstrated, with many flops and
+gobbles, betting him all his fish to nothing that he would lose it after
+all; this way they chased that bag, and that way, while the bagger, in
+much trepidation and with many desperate heaves, wildly sought remote
+corners away from his persecutors. Now, by the corner of the club
+premises stands an appliance, the emblem of authority, the instrument of
+justice, and the terror of the evilly-disposed pelican--a birch-broom.
+This, brandished in the hands of Church, caused a sudden and awful
+collapse of the drag-nets, an opening, a shower of fish and many snaps;
+wherefrom walked away many pelicans with fish, and one with none, who
+had looked to take all. The moral is plain to the verge of ugliness.
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+A pelican has no tongue--or none to speak of. It is a mere little knob
+scarcely the size of a cherry. The long, long meditations of the pelican
+(lasting between feeding times) are given up to consideration whether or
+not the disgrace of this deficiency is counter-balanced by the greater
+capacity for fish which it gives the pouch. After all, it is only
+another instance of that commercial honesty which makes the pelican pay
+for his beak out of his legs; he gives his tongue for a pouch. There
+should be a legend of the pelican applying honestly to Adam to buy a
+pouch, and the wily stork waiting and waiting on the chance of snatching
+one without paying for it, until all had been served out; afterwards
+living all its life on earth in covetous dudgeon, unconsoled by its
+wealth of beak, legs, wings, and neck, and pining hopelessly for the
+lost pouch. There are many legends of this sort which ought to exist,
+but don't, owing to the negligence of Indian solar myth merchants, or
+whoever it is has charge of that class of misrepresentation.
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+The pelican can fly, although you would never believe it, to look at the
+club members here. To a Zoo pelican a flight of two feet is an
+undertaking to be approached with much circumspection and preparation,
+and a summoning of resolution and screwing of courage proper to the
+magnitude of the feat. It takes a long time to learn to fly on to a
+bottom-up bucket. The Zoo pelican begins on a shadow--not a very dark
+one at first--and works his way up by jumping over, darker shadows to
+straws and pebbles, before he tries a bucket. The accomplished
+bucket-jumper makes a long preliminary survey and circumnavigation of
+his bucket before performing, and when he does begin it is with a number
+of wild rushes and irresolute stops. When at last he gets the proper
+length of run, and the right foot in front, and doesn't see anything to
+baulk him, he rises with a great effort, and all the lookers-on who
+don't know him stare up over the trees, and are astonished to find him,
+after all, only on the bucket. His pinions are cut, poor fellow! If they
+were not, what would become of the fishmongers' shops?
+
+
+
+
+_Shafts from an Eastern Quiver_.
+
+IX.--MAW-SAYAH: THE KEEPER OF THE GREAT BURMAN NAT.
+
+By Charles J. Mansford, B.A.
+
+
+I.
+
+"The fine points of an elephant, sahib," said our guide Hassan, "are a
+colour approaching to white, the nails perfectly black, and an intact
+tail."
+
+"I am glad to hear that an elephant has some qualities which recommend
+it," said Denviers, good-humouredly. "I should think that the one upon
+which we are riding is about as lazy as it is possible to be. I suppose
+slowness is an unusually good point, isn't it, Hassan?" The Arab, who
+was sitting before us on the elephant, gave it a stir with the
+sharply-pointed spear which he held in his hand to urge it on, and then
+glancing back at us, as we reclined lazily in the cushioned howdah, he
+said inquiringly: "Are the sahibs tired already of travelling thus? Yet
+we have fully two hours' journey before us."
+
+"Hassan," I interposed, "this is a good opportunity for you to tell us
+exactly what you heard about that Maw-Sayah when we were at Bhamo. It is
+in consequence of that, indeed, that we are going to try to get among
+these strange Kachyens; but as we are not quite sure of the details, you
+may as well repeat them."
+
+"The sahib shall be obeyed," responded our guide, and although careful
+to keep a good watch in front, he turned his body slightly towards us as
+he prepared to begin the narrative.
+
+[Illustration: "THE SAHIB SHALL BE OBEYED."]
+
+On reaching Burmah we stayed for several days in Rangoon, the Queen of
+the East as it is called nowadays, although only remarkable formerly for
+its famous monasteries of Talapoins and as a halting-place for the bands
+of pilgrims on their way to the mighty Shway Dagohn pagoda. Thence we
+journeyed up the Irawaddy, and having duly paid reverence to some of the
+nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine pagodas of Pagan--the outcast
+slaves of which city seemed a strange contrast to its otherwise absolute
+desertion--we continued our journey by steamer as far as Mandalay.
+Having endured the doubtful pleasure of a jaunt in a seatless, jolting
+bullock-carriage--the bruises from which were not easily forgotten--we
+eventually reached Bhamo, where Hassan entered into conversation with a
+hill-man. From the latter he learnt a strange story, which was later on
+told to us and the truth of which we hoped before long to fully test,
+for soon afterwards we set out on an elephant, our faithful guide in
+this new adventure again proving himself of the greatest service.
+
+"Now, Hassan," said Denviers, "we are quite ready to hear this story
+fully, but don't add any imaginary details of your own."
+
+"By the Koran, sahib," began the Arab, "these are the words which were
+those of him to whom I spoke under the shade of the log stockade."
+
+"Which are, of course, unimpeachable," responded Denviers. "Anyone could
+tell that from his shifty eyes, which failed to rest upon us fixed even
+for a minute when we spoke to him afterwards." The Arab seemed a little
+disconcerted at this, but soon continued:--
+
+"The great Spirits or Nats, who guard the prosperity of Burmah, have
+become greatly incensed with the Kachyens, not because they failed to
+resist stoutly when the monarch was deposed a few years ago----"
+
+"Then we are to have a modern story, this time, Hassan?" interrupted
+Denviers. "I quite expected that you would commence with some long
+worn-out tradition."
+
+"The sahibs shall hear," the Arab went on. "No one who offends the Nats
+of Burmah need expect anything but evil to follow. There are the Nats of
+the sky, the Nats of the earth, the Nats of the Irawaddy, the Nats of
+the five hundred little rivers, and the thousand Nats which guarded the
+sacred person of the monarch----"
+
+"Yes, Hassan," said Denviers, impatiently, "you mentioned them all
+before. We haven't time to hear the list enumerated now; go on about
+this one particular Nat which you say is causing such havoc among the
+hill-tribes."
+
+"Patience, sahib. The Nats were justly roused to anger because the
+deposed monarch was not afterwards taken to the water's edge riding upon
+an elephant instead of in a bullock-carriage."
+
+"Well, Hassan," said Denviers, "judging from our own experience the Nats
+seem to be pretty sensible, I must say--but how do they affect the peace
+of mind of the Kachyens?"
+
+"Listen, sahib. High among the hills which may be seen stretching before
+us lies a village in which many of the Kachyens dwell, their occupation
+being sometimes that of tillers of the land, but more often consisting
+in planning and carrying out raids upon other hill-men, or of descending
+at times to the plains, and there looting the towns wherein dwell more
+peaceable tribes. In all their forays they had been successful, for
+whenever their trusty dahs or swords were drawn, those who opposed them
+invariably obtained the worst of the encounter. So powerful did they
+become that at last those dwelling in the plains--Shans, Karenns, and
+Talaings, too--made no resistance against their attacks; and when they
+saw the produce of their fields carried away, thought themselves happy
+not to have been slain. The reason why the Kachyens became so successful
+in all they undertook was that a powerful forest Nat placed them under
+its protection, and hence they could not be harmed by their foes.
+
+"Now it chanced that the King was in great danger through following the
+advice of his impetuous ministers, whereupon he summoned the Kachyens to
+his assistance--for their fame as warriors had reached his ears long
+before. But they, confident of securing their own safety whatever
+happened to the monarch, refused to obey his command to march against
+the Burman foes. The consequence was that when the indignity which I
+have mentioned was offered to the deposed monarch, the Nats throughout
+Burmah were furious with that one who ruled the village in which the
+Kachyens dwelt, and they sent some of their number to destroy it. The
+latter, however, appeased them by making a grim promise, which has been
+only too faithfully kept.
+
+"A few days afterwards a hill-man, who was clearing a part of the land
+on the woody slope of the height, _saw the Nat_, which had never before
+been visible, and, terrified at the strange form which it had assumed,
+he ran hastily to the rest of the tribe, and, gathering them together,
+held a consultation as to what should be done to appease it. Some
+suggested that upon every tree trunk should be scratched appealing
+messages, which the Nat might read; others were in favour of placing a
+huge heap of spears and swords near the spot where the embodied Nat had
+been seen in order that it might be tempted to destroy all those who
+urged it to injure them. The messages and weapons, however, when placed
+for the Nat to observe did no good, for one dreadful night a rattling
+was heard of the bamboos, which lay before one of the Kachyen's huts,
+and the man, going hastily to see what caused it, was swiftly carried
+away in the darkness without apparently uttering a single cry! For many
+nights in succession a similar scene was enacted, for he at whose door
+the dire summons came dared not refuse to answer it lest the whole
+household might perish.
+
+"Nothing more was ever seen of those thus strangely carried off, and the
+Kachyens, each of whom feared that his own end might come next,
+determined to consult some famous Buddhist priests who dwelt not far
+from them, and who held charge over the famous marble slabs which the
+great War Prince of Burmah had caused to be engraved concerning their
+illustrious traditions. The man whom ye saw me conversing with by the
+stockade was the one whom the tribe intrusted with the task; but the
+priests, after much consideration among themselves of the object of his
+visit, refused to have anything to do with such a tragic affair, and
+thereupon dismissed their suppliant.
+
+[Illustration: "THE BUDDHIST PRIESTS."]
+
+"This Kachyen, when sorrowfully returning towards the hills, fearing
+that the tribe would destroy him because of his non-success, chanced to
+meet on his way a Mogul, to whom he repeated the story. The latter,
+laying his hand on his red-dyed and fierce-looking beard, advised the
+Kachyen to enter a hole in the mountain side and to consult a famous
+Maw-Sayah, or juggler, who dwelt there. This juggler promised assistance
+if the tribe would pay him a great reward in the event of his success,
+and when they agreed to this he entered the village and waited for dusk
+to arrive. Again the dreadful rattling was heard, and another Kachyen
+stepped out to meet his fate. None of the tribe dared to look at what
+transpired, except the juggler, and he too disappeared! The next
+morning, however, he came into the village and called its inhabitants
+together. When they had solemnly agreed to his conditions, he stated
+that the Nat was bent upon destroying them all, and that to attempt to
+escape by means of flight would only lead to quicker death. Then he told
+them what the result of his intercession for them had been.
+
+"The Nat had been persuaded to destroy only one victim on each seventh
+evening at dusk, and had appointed him to see that certain conditions
+were not broken. He was to have a hut at his disposal, and into this the
+men were to go by lot, and thus the Nat would obtain a victim when the
+time came round. They were forbidden to wander about after sunset, and
+whatever noises were made not to hearken to them, since the Maw-Sayah
+would see that the others were unharmed. So long had this dreadful
+destruction lasted that more than one-half of the men in the Kachyen
+village, or town, as it might well be called from the large number who
+inhabited it, had perished, and yet the Nat still demanded a victim, and
+the Maw-Sayah is there to see that the compact is fulfilled. The man who
+told this story, sahibs, declares that the keeper of the Nat has by this
+means obtained sway over the Kachyens to such an extent that they have
+become his abject slaves, for the custom of drawing lots has been
+abolished, and he selects whom he will to sacrifice to the Nat. By some
+means this Kachyen offended the Maw-Sayah, who thereupon condemned him,
+but he, in terror of the sudden and silent death in store for him, fled
+to Bhamo, where he lives in momentary fear of destruction. Such then,
+sahibs, is the story, and it is to see this Maw-Sayah and the Nat at
+their fell work to-night that even now our faces are turned to the high
+land before us, up which we must climb, for there is but one narrow
+pathway leading to the village."
+
+Hassan ceased, and then Denviers turned to me as he said:--
+
+"I think that this Maw-Sayah, as Hassan calls him, has about as much
+faith in Nats as we have. It suits his purpose to league himself with
+something mysterious; whatever it is we will try to find out," and he
+glanced at the weapons which we carried.
+
+
+II.
+
+"The sahibs must dismount here", said Hassan shortly afterwards, and
+following to the ground our guide, we began to climb the mountain path
+which stretched before us. The ascent was exceedingly steep, and several
+times we stopped to rest after pushing our way through the tangled
+masses which almost hid the path, which was itself cut here and there
+apparently through the rocky strata. When we had reached about
+three-fourths of our journey Hassan stopped and pointed out to us one of
+the thatched roofs of a hut, which seemed in the distance scarcely
+noticeable until his keen eyesight discovered it. The village, we found,
+lay a little to the left of the mountain path, for on nearing the summit
+we found ourselves passing through a peculiar avenue of trees
+interspersed with long bamboo poles. From the tops of the latter there
+were stretched across the approach strong, rough-looking cords, which
+supported various uncouth emblems, and among which were large triangles,
+circles, and stars, cut apparently out of the stems of huge bamboos.
+After traversing this avenue for nearly three hundred yards we saw the
+tree trunks which Hassan had mentioned, and which were deeply scarred
+with cabalistic messages to the fierce Nat, which we could not of course
+understand. Affixed to some of the trees farther on we saw a number of
+spears and dahs mingled with shorter weapons, the latter being made of
+some species of hard wood, and close to them we observed the skulls of
+several large animals, one of which we judged was that of an elephant.
+
+[Illustration: "THE AVENUE."]
+
+In spite of the fact that the village was a large one, the buildings
+were of a very primitive construction, being made of bamboos with
+thatched coverings, reaching almost to the piles on which the huts were
+placed. We did not observe any openings made to serve as windows, the
+only ones noticeable being those by which the Kachyens entered, placed
+above a bamboo ladder, which seemed to, serve instead of steps. Although
+the sun had scarcely set, the village was wrapped in a strange silence,
+the sound of our footsteps alone being heard. The smoke that seemed to
+be forcing its way through stray holes in the thatch amply convinced us,
+however, that the inhabitants were within doors, and, turning to our
+Arab guide, I asked him if he could distinguish among the many huts the
+one in which we expected to find the Maw-Sayah. He seemed a little
+uncertain at first, but after wandering through the village together we
+returned, and then Hassan, who had been very observant the whole time,
+pointed to one of the rudely-constructed huts and said:--
+
+"I think that is the one into which we seek to enter; it is situated
+according to the position in which the Kachyen said it was, and,
+besides, it bears a strange proof of the story which ye have listened to
+with such ill-concealed disbelief."
+
+"Why do you think that is the hut, Hassan?" I asked, for, to my eyes, no
+difference between that and the others close to it was distinguishable.
+
+"If the sahib will look at the bamboo ladder and observe it carefully,
+he will see that it is unlike the others round," said the Arab.
+
+"I suppose you refer to these deep scratches upon it, don't you,
+Hassan?" asked Denviers, as he pointed to some marks, a few of which
+were apparently fairly recent.
+
+"The sahib guesses rightly," answered our guide. "You will remember that
+the Kachyen stated to me that the Nat is accustomed to obtain its victim
+now from the abode of the Maw-Sayah; those marks, then, have been made
+by it when it dragged its human prey out of the hut." We gazed curiously
+at the marks for a few minutes, then Denviers broke the silence by
+asking the Arab why it was that the Nat made marks at all.
+
+"I should have thought that such a powerful spirit could prevent such
+evidences of its presence becoming observed," he continued. "My respect
+for it is certainly not increased by seeing those deep scars; they seem
+to be made by something which has sharp claws."
+
+"That is because of the shape which it has assumed, sahib," said the
+Arab, "for the Nats have wondrous powers----"
+
+"Very likely, Hassan," interposed Denviers; "I suppose they can do
+exactly what they like, can they not?" I was much surprised at the limit
+which was, however, placed upon their powers by our guide, for he
+responded quickly:--
+
+"Not altogether, sahib. There is one thing that a Nat cannot do,
+according to the reports of these Kachyens, and that is, they are unable
+to move in a direction which is not straight, and hence they are careful
+to avoid rough ground, where tangled masses and boulders bar their
+progress, so they usually frequent the open avenues, such as the one
+which we have just passed through. The symbols above it and the writings
+and weapons are all for the Nat's benefit."
+
+"And the elephant's skull?" asked Denviers, irreverently. "What is that
+put up for?" The Arab, however, had an explanation ready, for he
+promptly replied:--
+
+"That indicates where the supplies of food are to be found when the Nat
+requires any." Denviers turned to me for a moment as he said:--
+
+"I should have thought it a good plan, then, to have put it upon the hut
+of this Maw-Sayah whom we are about to interview. See that your weapons
+are in good order, Harold, we may soon need them." Giving a cautious
+look at my belt and the weapons thrust into it, I followed Denviers, who
+had mounted the short bamboo ladder, and was endeavouring to obtain
+admission to the hut. We heard a harsh sound within, then the cry of
+someone apparently terror-stricken, and a moment afterwards we had
+pushed past the Maw-Sayah, who by no means was willing to allow us to
+enter the rude dwelling.
+
+The single room, which seemed to constitute the hut, was extremely low
+and bare of furniture entirely. A few bamboos were spread in one part of
+it, while at the far end was a fire, the light from which was partly
+obscured by the smoke, which almost suffocated us, so thickly did it
+roll up and then spread through the hut. Near the door stood a man
+scarcely clothed, upon whose face we saw a look of the most abject
+terror, for, as we surmised, the noise of our entry was mistaken by him
+for the approach of the fell thing to which he was condemned by the
+Maw-Sayah. We moved towards the latter as he threw himself down by the
+fire, which he had only left to see who it was that came unbidden to the
+hut where to enter was the preceding event to death. He was clothed in a
+long blue strip of linen, which wound round his waist and covered his
+body, partly leaving his dark chest uncovered. His features were stamped
+with an appearance of supreme cunning, his oblique eyes reminding us of
+a Chinaman, while the fierce look in them as they glared at us from
+either side of an aquiline nose, which betrayed his Burmese descent, did
+not increase our confidence in the man as he stretched out his bony
+hands over the fire as if for warmth, although outside the hut we had
+found the heat almost insupportable.
+
+"What do ye seek?" he demanded, as he looked into our faces in turn and
+seemed astonished at our strange features.
+
+"We are travellers who wished to see a Kachyen village," responded
+Denviers, "and we further desired to see some of its inhabitants; but
+as none were visible we entered this hut, even against your will. Where
+are the people who dwell here?" The man whom my companion addressed
+pointed to the Kachyen near the doorway, as he responded:--
+
+"There is one of them, and in a short time even he will never be seen
+again."
+
+[Illustration: "WHAT DO YE SEEK?"]
+
+"Can you give us food?" hazarded Hassan, in order to get the man to
+continue his conversation, for the Arab evidently was expecting that the
+Nat would soon arrive upon the scene. The Maw-Sayah rose and pointed to
+the entrance as he cried:--
+
+"That way ye came, that way shall ye depart. Food for ye I have not, nor
+would I give it if I had." I turned to Denviers and said in a low
+tone:--
+
+"What shall we do, Frank? I don't think our opportunity of seeing what
+may transpire will be as good within the hut as without it. Whatever the
+solution is to this affair, if we are outside we shall see this Kachyen
+dragged away, and may further watch the approach of whatever caused
+those strange marks which we observed."
+
+"One thing is clear," said my companion, "we will attempt to save this
+intended victim, at all events. I expect that if we tried we could get
+him away easily enough, but that plan would not be of much service. We
+must attack this being, whatever it is, with which this Maw-Sayah is
+leagued. How I should like to hand him over as a victim instead of that
+trembling captive by the door. It shows to what extent this juggler has
+acquired power over this tribe, for I notice that his captive is
+unbound, and is certainly a much finer built man than the other."
+
+"It wants less than an hour to dusk, sahibs," said Hassan, who had
+listened carefully to our remarks; "if we were to station ourselves a
+little away from the hut we could see what took place, and if the Nat
+were mortal we might attack it."
+
+Denviers shrugged his shoulders at the Arab's supposition as he
+responded:--
+
+"There is little doubt, Hassan, that the Nat would smart if that keen
+blade of yours went a little too near it, but I think your plan is a
+good one, and we will adopt it, as it falls in with what has already
+been said." We gave a final look at the crafty face of the man who was
+still seated by the fire, and then brushing past the captive we made for
+the open village again.
+
+"I feel sorry for this Kachyen," said Denviers. "He will have a dreadful
+five minutes of it, I expect; but it is our only way of preventing, if
+possible, such an affair from occurring again." On leaving the hut we
+stationed ourselves almost opposite to it, and then began to keep watch.
+What we should see pass up the avenue we could only surmise, but our
+suppositions certainly did not lead us to imagine in the faintest degree
+the sight which before long was destined to completely startle us.
+
+
+III.
+
+The grey dusk was becoming night when among the dark stems of the trees
+we saw some black form move over the ground. We could scarcely
+distinguish it as it crawled over the bamboo logs and made a rasping
+noise as it clung to the ladder. The door of the hut yielded to it, and
+a minute after it again emerged and bore with it the terrified Kachyen.
+We crept after it as it dragged its captive down the avenue, striving
+our utmost to make out its shape. One thing we could tell, which was
+that the creature was not upright; but our movement behind it was
+apparently known, for it struggled to move quicker over the ground with
+its human burden.
+
+[Illustration: "IT AGAIN EMERGED."]
+
+"Shall I shoot it?" I whispered to Denviers, as my nerves seemed to be
+almost unstrung at the unknowableness of the creeping thing.
+
+"You would more likely kill the man," he responded. "Follow as
+noiselessly as you can--it will not let its prey escape, be sure of
+that. Once we track it to its haunt we will soon dispatch it, big and
+fierce as it seems."
+
+We drew nearer and nearer to it, until it had passed half-way down the
+avenue, then it seemed to become lost to our view, although we were, as
+we knew, close to it. I felt Denviers' hand upon my shoulder, and then
+he whispered:--
+
+"The Kachyen is being dragged up a tree just in front--look!" I could
+just distinguish something moving up the trunk, when suddenly the
+captive, who had hitherto been apparently paralyzed with terror, uttered
+a cry and then must have succeeded in disengaging himself from the
+dreadful thing that had held him, for the noise of someone falling to
+the ground was heard, and a minute after we distinguished the form of a
+man rushing headlong back to the village for safety.
+
+We did not anticipate such an event, and were contemplating a search for
+the captor of the Kachyen, when a cold sweat broke out upon me, for the
+clammy claws of the man-hunter had touched me! The sensation which
+seized me was only of short duration, for I felt myself released just as
+Denviers said:--
+
+"Harold, the Kachyen has fled, and his captor, determined to secure its
+prey, has betaken its crawling body after him. If only we had a light! I
+saw something like a black shadow moving onwards; get your pistol ready
+and follow." I just distinguished Denviers as he passed on in front of
+me, Hassan coming last. When we reached the hut of the Maw-Sayah we
+stopped at once, for, from the cry which came from it, we rightly
+surmised that the terrible seeker for human prey had made for this
+place, thinking, in its dull intelligence, that its captive had
+returned. We thrust ourselves into the hut, and saw by the red firelight
+a sanguinary contest between the Maw-Sayah and the black object which we
+had endeavoured to track. Thinking that the Kachyen was being destroyed,
+the juggler had not fastened his door, and the enraged man-eater had
+seized him as he rested on the ground, quite at its mercy!
+
+The Maw-Sayah was struggling with his bony hands to extricate himself
+from the clutches of a monstrous tree-spider! We had seen, on an island
+in the South Seas, several cocoa-nut crabs, and this reptile somewhat
+resembled them, but was even larger. Grasping the juggler with several
+of its long, furry-looking claws, it fixed its glaring red eyes in mad
+anger upon him as he grasped in each hand one of its front pair of
+legs, which were armed with strong, heavy-looking pincers. He besought
+us wildly to shoot, even if we killed him, held as he was by his
+relentless foe.
+
+"Harold," cried my companion, "keep clear, and look out for yourself
+when I fire at this reptile; most likely it will make for one of us." He
+drew right close to it, and thrusting the barrel of his pistol between
+its eyes touched the trigger. The explosion shook the hut, its effect
+upon the spider being to cause it to rush frantically about the floor,
+dragging the Maw-Sayah as if he were some slight burden scarcely
+observable.
+
+[Illustration: "A RELENTLESS FOE."]
+
+"You missed it!" I cried. "Look out, Hassan, guard the doorway!" The
+Arab stood, sword in hand, waiting for it to make for the entrance,
+while Denviers exclaimed:--
+
+"I shot it through the head!" and a minute afterwards the trueness of
+his aim was manifest, for the claws released, and the Maw-Sayah, wounded
+badly, but saved, stood free from the muscular twitchings of the dead
+spider.
+
+"You scoundrel!" said Denviers to him, "I have a good mind to serve you
+the same. You deserve to die as so many of these simple-minded,
+credulous Kachyens have done." I thought for one brief second that my
+companion was about to kill the juggler, for through all our adventures
+I had never seen him so thoroughly roused. I stood between them; then,
+when Denviers quickly recovered his self-command, I turned to the
+Maw-Sayah and asked:--
+
+"If we spare your life, will you promise to leave this village and never
+to return?" He turned his evil-looking but scared face towards us
+eagerly as he replied:--
+
+"I will do whatever you wish." Denviers motioned to him to rest upon the
+ground, which he did, then turning to me, said:--
+
+"It is pretty apparent what this juggler has done. The man who first
+reported the discovery of this Nat, as the foolish Kachyens call it,
+simply disturbed a monstrous spider which had lived in the trees which
+he felled--that accounts for his seeing it. Finding animal food scarce,
+the reptile ventured into this village and tried to get into one of the
+huts. Its exertions were rewarded by the Kachyen coming to the door,
+whom it accordingly seized. To continue its plan, which proved so
+successful, needed very little reasoning power on the part of such a
+cunning creature. No doubt this Maw-Sayah purposely left the door of his
+hut unfastened each seventh night, and the spider thus became accustomed
+to seek for its victim there, I daresay it came the other nights, but
+the juggler was then careful enough to keep his hut well fastened."
+
+"What do the sahibs propose to do?" interrupted Hassan. Denviers turned
+to him, as he responded:--
+
+"We will wait for daybreak; then, having dragged the dead spider out
+where the Kachyens may see that it is no longer able to harm them, we
+will take this Maw-Sayah down the mountain path away from the village as
+poor as he came."
+
+[Illustration: "YOU SCOUNDREL!"]
+
+"A good plan," I assented, and we followed it out, eventually leaving
+the juggler, and climbing once more into the howdah upon the elephant,
+which we found close to the spot where we had left it, secured from
+wandering far away by the rope which Hassan had used to hinder its
+movements.
+
+We entered Bhamo, and while we took a much-needed rest, our guide--as we
+afterwards learnt--searched for and found the fugitive Kachyen, who, on
+hearing that his safety was secured, hastily departed to the village to
+rejoice with the rest of his tribe that the so-called Nat would not do
+them any more injury.
+
+
+
+
+_From Behind the Speaker's Chair._
+
+III.
+
+(VIEWED BY HENRY W. LUCY.)
+
+[Illustration: "OBSTRUCTION."]
+
+It is thirteen years since a new Parliament last blithely started on its
+way with Mr. Gladstone sitting in the seat of the Premier. Since March,
+1880, a great deal has happened, not least in the change of
+circumstances under which the business of the House of Commons is
+conducted. The majority of the House of Commons may be Liberal or
+Conservative, according to a passing flood of conviction on the part of
+the constituencies. When presumptuous hands are stretched forth to touch
+the Ark of its procedure, its instincts are all Tory. For more than two
+hundred years preceding the advent of a Tory Ministry in 1886, this was
+so. Mr. Gladstone, driven to desperation in the second Session of the
+Parliament of 1880-5, endeavoured to reform procedure so that
+obstruction might be fought on even terms. He was met by such resolute
+and persistent opposition from the Conservative side that, even with an
+overwhelming majority at his back, he succeeded only in tinkering the
+pot. Oddly enough, it was left for the Conservatives when they came into
+office to revolutionize the system upon which, through the ages,
+Parliamentary business had been carried on.
+
+There was nothing in the reforms more startling to the old
+Parliamentarian than the proposal automatically to close debate at
+midnight. A dozen years ago members of the House of Commons assembled at
+four o'clock for prayers. Questions began at half-past four, and no one
+could say at what hour of the night or of the next morning the cry "Who
+goes home?" might echo through the lobby. In those days Mr. O'Donnell
+was master of the situation, and he had many imitators. A debate carried
+on through several nights might seem to be approaching a conclusion. The
+Leader of the Opposition, rising between eleven o'clock and midnight,
+spoke in a crowded House. The Premier, or his lieutenant, followed,
+assuming to wind up the debate. Members wearied of the long sitting were
+prepared to go forth to the division lobby; when from below the gangway
+on the left there uprose a familiar figure, and there was heard a
+well-known voice.
+
+[Illustration: F. H. O'DONNELL.]
+
+These usually belonged to Mr. O'Donnell bent upon vindicating the right
+of a private member to interpose when the constituted authorities of the
+House had agreed in the opinion that a debate had been continued long
+enough. A roar of execration from the fagged legislators greeted the
+intruder. He expected this, and was in no degree perturbed. In earliest
+practice he had a way of dropping his eye-glass as if startled by the
+uproar, and searched for it with puzzled, preoccupied expression,
+apparently debating with himself what this outburst might portend. He
+did not love the British House of Commons, and delighted in thwarting
+its purposes. But he knew what was due to it in the way of respect, and,
+however angry passions might rise, however turbulent the scene, he would
+never address it looking upon it with the naked eye. As his eye-glass
+was constantly tumbling out, and as search for it was preternaturally
+deliberate, it played an appreciable part in the prolongation of
+successive Sessions.
+
+[Illustration: "EYE-GLASS PLAY."]
+
+What has become of Frank Hugh now, I wonder? Vanishing from the House of
+Commons, he reappeared for a while on the scene, characteristically
+acting the part of the petrel that heralded the storm Mr. Pigott
+ineffectively tried to ride. It must be a consolation to Mr. O'Donnell,
+in his retirement, wherever it is passed, to reflect on the fact that it
+was he who directly brought about the appointment of the Parnell
+Commission, with all it effected. His action for libel brought against
+the _Times_ preluded and inevitably led up to the formal investigation
+of the famous Charges and Allegations.
+
+The member for Dungarvan was, in his day, the most thoroughly disliked
+man in the House of Commons, distaste for Mr. Parnell and for Mr. Biggar
+in his early prime being softened by contrast with his subtler
+provocation. An exceedingly clever debater, he was a phrase maker, some
+of whose epigrams Mr. Disraeli would not have disowned. He was a
+parliamentary type of ancient standing, and apparently ineradicable
+growth. In the present House of Commons fresh developments are presented
+by Mr. Seymour Keay and Mr. Morton. These are distinct varieties, but
+from the unmistakable root. Both are gifted with boundless volubility,
+unhampered by ordinary considerations of coherency and cogency. Neither
+is influenced by that sense of the dread majesty of the House of Commons
+which keeps some members dumb all through their parliamentary life, and
+to the last, as in the case of Mr. Bright, weighs upon even great
+orators. The difference between the older and the new development is
+that whilst over Mr. O'Donnell's intentional and deliberate vacuity of
+speech there gleamed frequent flashes of wit, Mr. Morton and Mr. Keay
+are only occasionally funny, and then the effect was undesigned.
+
+[Illustration: O'DONNELL'S LAST APPEARANCE.]
+
+[Illustration: MR. SEYMOUR KEAY.]
+
+Since we have these two gentlemen still with us, it would be rash to say
+that if Mr. O'Donnell could revisit the glimpses of Big Ben he would
+find his occupation gone. He would certainly discover that his
+opportunities had been limited, and would have to recommence practice
+under greatly altered conditions. One of the former member for
+Dungarvan's famous achievements took place in the infancy of the
+Parliament of 1880-5, and, apart from its dramatic interest, is valuable
+as illustrating the change effected in parliamentary procedure by the
+New Rules. On that particular June night the paper was loaded with
+questions in a fashion unfamiliar in the last Parliament, though there
+are not lacking signs of renewed activity since political parties
+changed places. Question No. 23 stood in the name of Mr. O'Donnell, and
+contained in his best literary style a serious indictment of M.
+Challemel-Lacour, just nominated by the French Government as their
+representative at the Court of St. James.
+
+[Illustration: MR. A. C. MORTON.]
+
+Sir Charles Dilke, then Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs, made
+categorical reply, directly traversing all the points in the indictment.
+When he resumed his seat Mr. O'Donnell rose in his usual deliberate
+manner, captured his eye-glass, and having fixed it to his satisfaction,
+remarked in his drawling voice that it was "perfectly impossible to
+accept the explanation of the Government." Being interrupted with cries
+of "Order! Order!" he quietly played his trump card: "If I am not
+allowed to explain," he said, "I will conclude with a motion."
+
+[Illustration: SIR CHARLES DILKE.]
+
+The House howled again, but it was a cry of despair. Mr. O'Donnell, they
+knew, had the whip hand. In those good old days he, or any other member
+desiring to obstruct ordinary procedure, might, in the middle of
+questions, start a debate on any subject under the sun. This and other
+outrages were doubtless recalled by the House of Commons when revising
+its Rules. It then ordered that no member might, during the progress of
+questions, interpose with a motion on which to found debate. If, in this
+current month of March, Mr. O'Donnell, being a member of the House of
+Commons, had wanted to attack M. Challemel-Lacour, he must needs have
+waited till the last question on the paper was disposed of, and could
+then have moved the adjournment only if his description of the
+question--as one of urgent public importance--was approved by the
+Speaker, and if, thereafter, forty members rose to support the request
+for a hearing.
+
+In June, 1880, all that was left for the crowded House to do was to roar
+with resentment. Mr. O'Donnell was used to this incentive, and had it
+been withheld would probably have shown signs of failing vigour. As it
+was, he produced a pocket-handkerchief, took down his eye-glass and
+carefully polished it, whilst members yelled and tossed about on their
+seats with impotent fury. Under the existing Rules this scene, if it had
+ever opened, would have been promptly blotted out. The closure would
+have been moved, probably a division taken, and the business of the
+evening would have gone forward. There was no closure in those days, and
+Mr. Gladstone, after hurried consultation with Sir Erskine May, hastily
+moved that Mr. O'Donnell be not heard.
+
+A shout of savage exultation rising from every bench, save those on
+which the Irish members sat, hailed a stroke that promised to deliver
+the House from the thraldom of Mr. O'Donnell at the very moment when its
+chains had taken a final twist. In ordinary circumstances this
+resolution would have played the part of the as yet unconsecrated
+closure. A division would have followed, the motion carried by an
+overwhelming majority, and Mr. O'Donnell would have been temporarily
+shut up.
+
+But those were not ordinary times. The Fourth Party was in the prime of
+its vigour. Lord Randolph Churchill's quick eye discovered an opening
+for irritating Mr. Gladstone and damaging the Government by making what
+should have been a business night one long turmoil. Mr. Parnell, whilst
+disclaiming any personal sympathy with Mr. O'Donnell, moved the
+adjournment of the debate, and poor, placid Sir Stafford Northcote,
+egged on by the young bloods below the gangway, raised various points of
+order. Finally, at eight o'clock, the House dividing on Mr. Parnell's
+amendment, Sir Stafford Northcote voted with the Irish members, leading
+a hundred men of the Party of Law and Order into the same lobby.
+
+[Illustration: STIRRING UP SIR STAFFORD.]
+
+Hour after hour the riot continued. At one time blameless Sir William
+Harcourt, then Home Secretary, appearing at the table, a Conservative
+member, amid tumultuous shouts, moved that he be not heard. When members
+grew tired of shouting at each other they divided on fresh motions for
+the adjournment, and it was not till one o'clock on the following
+morning that Mr. O'Donnell, grateful for a pleasant evening, was good
+enough to undertake that before he recurred to the question he would
+give due notice, so that the Speaker might exercise his discretion in
+revising its terms. At five minutes past one in the morning, after a
+wrangle full eight hours long, the Speaker, with a pretty assumption of
+nothing particular having happened, called on the next question on the
+paper, which was Number 24.
+
+All this might happen again on any night of this month save for the
+beneficent action of the New Rules a long-suffering Parliament was
+finally induced to adopt. On the threshold of a new Parliament it is
+useful to recall the scene as an assistance in calculating what may be
+accomplished by the Parliament elected in 1892, as compared with that
+which began its history in 1880. On the face of it, Parliament to-day
+has much less time at its disposal for the accomplishment of work than
+it had a dozen years ago. Then, the duration of a sitting was
+indefinite. The House might, as it did in February, 1881, meet at four
+o'clock on a Monday afternoon and sit continuously till Wednesday
+morning. Now, the Speaker takes the Chair at three o'clock; public
+business commences at half-past three; and at midnight, save in cases
+where the Standing Order has been formally suspended, the Speaker leaves
+the Chair, and the House adjourns, whoever may be on his feet.
+
+[Illustration: "DISGUST."]
+
+The influence of this automatic procedure is beneficially felt
+throughout the whole of debate. One wholesome influence works in the
+direction of using up the early hours of the sitting, an arrangement
+which carries comfort to countless printing offices and editorial
+sanctums. Some time before the New Rules came into operation, Mr.
+Gladstone discovered for himself the convenience and desirability of
+taking part in debate at the earliest possible hour of a sitting. His
+earlier associations drifted round a directly opposite course. In the
+good old days the champions of debate did not interpose till close upon
+midnight, when they had the advantage of audiences sustained and
+exhilarated by dinner. That was before the era of special wires to the
+provincial papers, early morning trams, and vastly increased circulation
+for the London journals. Mr. Gladstone discovered that he was more
+carefully reported and his observations more deliberately discussed if
+he spoke between five and seven o'clock in the evening than if,
+following his earlier habit, he addressed the House between eleven and
+one in the morning. He has, accordingly, for some years been accustomed,
+when he has an important speech to deliver, to interpose in debate
+immediately after questions.
+
+This habit has become general, even compulsory, with members who may,
+within certain limits, choose their own time for speaking. All the cream
+of debate is now skimmed before the dinner-hour. At the close of a
+pitched battle, the two Leaders of Party, as heretofore, wind up the
+debate. But their opportunity for orating is severely circumscribed. The
+audience in the House of Commons does not begin to reassemble after
+dinner till half-past ten. Rising at that hour, the Leader of the
+Opposition, if he fairly divides the available time with the right
+honourable gentleman opposite, must not speak more than three-quarters
+of an hour, and should not exceed forty minutes.
+
+This is a necessity desirable not less in the orator's interest than in
+that of the audience. Except for the exposition of an intricate measure,
+twenty minutes is ample time for any man to say what is useful for his
+fellow-men to hear. All Mr. Disraeli's best speeches were made within
+half an hour, and if he thought it necessary, from a sense of the
+importance of his position, to prolong them, his stock of good things
+was exhausted in twenty minutes, the rest being what Carlyle
+disrespectfully described as thrice-boiled cole-wort. Mr. Gladstone can
+go on indefinitely, and in very recent times has been known to hold his
+audience spell-bound for three hours. But even he has profited by the
+beneficent tyranny that now rules the limit of debate, and, rising with
+the knowledge that he has but forty minutes to speak in, has excelled
+himself. For less exuberant speakers not gifted with his genius, the new
+discipline is even more marked in its benefits.
+
+[Illustration: MR. KEIR HARDIE.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It is too soon to endeavour to estimate the general characteristics of
+the _personnel_ of the new Parliament. It will probably turn out to be
+very much of the same class as the innumerable army of its predecessors.
+When Mr. Keir Hardie came down on the opening day in a wagonette, with
+flags flying and accordions playing, it was cried aloud in some quarters
+that the end was at hand. This apprehension was strengthened when Mr.
+Hardie strolled about the House with a tweed travelling cap on his head,
+the Speaker at the time being in the chair. This, as Dr. Johnson
+explained, when the lady asked him why he had described the horse's
+pastern as its knee, was "ignorance, pure ignorance." Mr. Hardie is not
+a man of the quietest manners, as was testified to by the apparition in
+Palace Yard of the wagonette and its musical party; but in the
+much-talked-of incident of the cap he sinned inadvertently. Before the
+Speaker took the chair he had seen members walking about with their hats
+on. He had observed that even in his presence they remained seated with
+their heads covered. The shade of etiquette which approves this fashion
+whilst it sternly prohibits a member from keeping his hat on when in
+motion, even to the extent of leaning over to speak to a friend on the
+bench below him, was too fine to catch the eye of a new member.
+
+Mr. Keir Hardie has done much worse things than this in his public
+appearances during the recess, and since the Session opened there has
+not been lacking evidence of resolve to keep himself in the front of the
+stage where the gallery may see him. But this is no new thing, to be
+cited in proof of the deterioration of the composition and style of the
+House of Commons. It has been done repeatedly in various fashions within
+recent memory, and always with the same result. No man, not even Mr.
+Biggar--and he may be cited as the most ruthless experimenter--has
+successfully struggled against the subtle disciplinary influence of the
+House of Commons.
+
+From the first the member for Cavan set himself in deliberate fashion to
+outrage Parliamentary traditions and usages. He finished by becoming a
+punctilious practitioner of Parliamentary forms, a stickler for the
+minutest observation of order. Whilst Mr. Gladstone and other members of
+old standing were content to preface their speeches with the
+monosyllable "Sir," nothing less than "Mr. Speaker, sir," would satisfy
+Mr. Biggar. No one who has not heard the inflection of tone with which
+this was uttered, nor seen the oratorical sweep of the hand that
+launched it on its course, can realize how much of combined deference
+and authority the phrase is capable of. Mr. Biggar, having in his early
+Parliamentary days defied the Chair and affronted the sensibilities of
+the House, alike in the matter of dress and deportment, developed into a
+portly gentleman of almost smug appearance, a terror to new members. Woe
+to any who in his ignorance passed between the Chair and the member
+addressing it; who walked in from a division with his hat on; or who
+stood an inch or two within the Bar whilst debate was going forward. Mr.
+Biggar's strident cry of "Order! Order!" reverberated through the House.
+Others joined in the shout, and the abashed offender hastily withdrew
+into obscurity.
+
+[Illustration: THE LATE MR. BIGGAR.]
+
+It is the same with others of less strongly marked character. Vanity or
+garrulity may force a new member into a position of notoriety. He may,
+according to his measure of determination, try a fall again and again
+with the House, and may sometimes, as in the case of Mr. O'Donnell, seem
+to win. But in the end the House of Commons proves victorious. It is a
+sort of whetstone on which blades of various temperature operate. In
+time, they either forego the practice or wear themselves away. In either
+case the whetstone remains.
+
+This is a rule without exception, and is a reassuring reflection in view
+of the talk about the degeneracy of the House of Commons, and the
+decadence of its standard of manner. It would not be difficult to show
+that the House at present in Session will, from the point of view of
+manners, favourably compare with any that have gone before--though, to
+be just, the comparison should be sought with Parliaments elected under
+similar conditions, with the Liberals in office and the Conservatives in
+opposition. That is an arrangement always found to be more conducive to
+lively proceedings than when parties are disposed in the contrary order.
+The Parliament dissolved last year was decorously dull. Mr. Gladstone in
+opposition is not prone to show sport, and no encouragement was held out
+to enterprising groups below the gangway to bait the Government. It was
+very different in the Parliament of 1880-5, of which fact the
+Challemel-Lacour episode is an illustration, only a little more piquant
+in flavour than the average supply.
+
+There are already signs that the new Parliament will not lie under the
+charge of deplorable dulness brought against its predecessor. But these
+varying moods are due to waves of political passion, and do not affect
+the question whether the House of Commons as a body of English gentlemen
+met for the discharge of public business has or has not deteriorated. I
+have an engraving of a picture of the House of Commons in pre-Reform
+days. It was carefully drawn in the Session of 1842. A more respectable
+body of the gentlemen of England it would be difficult to gather
+together. With the possible exception of one or two political
+adventurers like the then member for Shrewsbury, there is probably not a
+man in the House who is not well born or at least rich. Mr. Keir Hardie
+would look strange indeed in these serried ranks of portly gentlemen
+with high coat collars, cravats up to their chin, short-bodied coats
+showing the waistcoat beneath, and the tightly trousered legs. Yet this
+House, and its equally prim successors, had its obstruction, its
+personal wrangles, and its occasional duel. Peel was attacked by
+Disraeli in a fashion and in language that would not be tolerated in the
+House of Commons now, even though the target were Mr. Gladstone.
+
+It is not necessary to go back as far as the days of Peel or
+Parliamentary Reform to sustain the bold assertion that, so far from
+having degenerated, the manners of the House of Commons have improved.
+In the Parliament elected in 1874 there sat on the Conservative side a
+gentleman named Smollet, who early distinguished himself by bringing
+Parliamentary debate down to the level of conversation in "Roderick
+Random." In those days Mr. Gladstone was down after the General
+Election, and Mr. Smollet, to the uproarious delight of gentlemen near
+him, savagely kicked him.
+
+[Illustration: "MOBBING HIM."]
+
+It was in the second year of this same Parliament, less than twenty
+years ago, that Mr. Gladstone, issuing from a division lobby, was
+suddenly pounced upon by some fifty or sixty Conservative members, and
+howled at for the space of several moments. It is, happily, possible for
+Mr. Gladstone to forget, or at least to forgive, personal attacks made
+upon him through his long career. In this very month of the new Session
+he may be nightly seen working in cordial fashion with ancient
+adversaries from Ireland, describing as "my honourable friends"
+gentlemen who, ten years ago and for some time subsequently, heaped on
+his head the coarsest vituperation permitted by practised manipulation
+of Parliamentary forms. But this scene in the division lobby on the 12th
+of April, 1875, is burned into his recollection. I have heard him,
+within the last few months, refer to it in those tones of profound
+indignation and with that flashing fire in his eyes only seen when he is
+deeply moved. He mentioned, what I think was not known, that Lord
+Hartington happened to be walking with him at the time. But there was no
+mistake for whom the angry cries were meant. Mr. Gladstone spoke with
+the profounder indignation because, as he said, he had on this occasion
+gone out to vote on behalf of a man whose character he detested, because
+he saw in the action taken against him an attack upon one of the
+privileges of Parliament.
+
+That scene was an outburst of political animosity; and the movements of
+political animosity, like the dicta of taste, are not to be disputed.
+But on the question of good manners, the only one here under
+consideration, it may be affirmed that the present House of Commons
+would be safe from lapse into such an exhibition. To this better state
+of things the operation of the New Rules has conspicuously contributed,
+and though, as we know, they have not operated to the absolute
+extinction of Parliamentary scenes, they have appreciably limited
+opportunity and incentive.
+
+
+
+
+_Portraits of Celebrities at Different Times of their Lives_.
+
+
+LORD BATTERSEA.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 14.
+
+_From a Daguerreotype._]
+
+BORN 1843.
+
+
+Lord Battersea, who was until recently known to the world as Mr. Cyril
+Flower, M.P., is a son of the late Mr. P. W. Flower, of Streatham, and
+was educated at Harrow and at Trinity College, Cambridge.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 21.
+
+_From a Photo, by Mayland, Cambridge._]
+
+He was called to the Bar at the age of twenty-seven, and became Liberal
+Member for Brecknock in 1880, and for the Luton Division of Bedfordshire
+in 1885 and 1886, in which later year he was one of Mr. Gladstone's
+"Whips." He married the daughter of the late Sir Anthony Rothschild, and
+both he and his wife are much interested in the welfare of the lower
+classes of London. Lord Battersea was unanimously reputed the handsomest
+man in the House of Commons, and is now, in every sense of the word, an
+ornament of the House of Lords.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 40.
+
+_From a Drawing._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photograph by Bassano, 35, Old Bond Street, W._.]
+
+
+W. Q. ORCHARDSON, R.A.
+
+BORN 1835.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 16.
+
+_From an Oil Sketch by himself._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 35.
+
+_From a Photograph by Walery, Marseilles._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 44.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+Mr. William Quiller Orchardson was born in Edinburgh, and at the age of
+fifteen entered the Trustees' Academy of that city, his first pictures
+being exhibited in the Royal Scottish Academy. At the age of
+twenty-eight he came to London, and the same year exhibited at the Royal
+Academy for the first time, his contributions being entitled, "An Old
+English Song" and "Portraits," the latter a life-size composition of
+three young ladies. In 1865 he painted "The Challenge," which won a
+prize of L100 given by Mr. Wallace, and one of the very few Medals
+awarded to English painters at the Paris Universal Exhibition. In 1866
+came "The Story of a Life"--an aged nun relating her experiences to a
+group of novices. Two years later, when he had only been four years in
+London, he was elected an A.R.A. Among his more recent pictures may be
+mentioned "Napoleon on Board the _Bellerophon_" (1880), "The Salon of
+Madame Recamier" (1885), "The Young Duke" (1889), and "St. Helena"
+(1892). Mr. Orchardson was elected an R.A. in 1877, and a D.C.L. of
+Oxford in 1890.
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+
+LADY HALLE.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 10.
+
+_From a Drawing._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 23.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+Lady Halle, whose maiden name was Wilhelmine Neruda, was born at Bruenn,
+where her father was organist of the cathedral. She was a pupil of
+Jansa, and made her first appearance at Vienna at the age of six, and in
+London at the age of nine. After this she returned to the Continent, and
+in 1864 she married Ludwig Norman, a Swedish musician. Since 1869 she
+has been in England every winter, playing especially at the concerts of
+Sir Charles Halle, whom she married in 1888.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 35.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo by Burraud_.]
+
+
+SIR CHARLES HALLE.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 20.
+
+_From a Painting._]
+
+Sir Charles Halle is a native of Germany, but at an early age he
+established himself in Paris, where he acquired a great reputation by
+his refined and classical rendering of the compositions of the great
+musicians; but the Revolution of 1843 drove him to England, where he has
+ever since resided. He soon established himself at Manchester, and as
+the founder of the annual series of orchestral and choral concerts there
+and in London, which have become, perhaps, the most important series in
+Europe, he has rendered the most valuable service to musical art.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 31.
+
+_From a Painting._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 45.
+
+_From a Photo, by H. Hering, Regent Street, W._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo. by Mayall & Co., 164, New Bond Street, W._]
+
+
+DR. HERMANN ADLER,
+
+CHIEF RABBI.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 24.
+
+_From a Photograph by McLean & Haes, Haymarket._]
+
+Born 1839.
+
+Dr. Adler, son of Dr. Nathan Marcus Adler, was born in Hanover, and came
+to London with his father at the age of six. He studied at University
+College, took his B. A. degree at the University of London at twenty,
+and that of Ph. D., at Leipzig, at twenty-two. In the following year he
+was ordained Rabbi by the famous Rapoport, Chief Rabbi of Prague, and
+became in succession Principal of the Jews' College in London and Chief
+Minister of the Bayswater Synagogue. In 1890 his father, the Chief
+Rabbi, died, and Dr. Adler was elected in his place. Dr. Adler is well
+known not only by his powerful and scholarly writings, but by his work
+among the poorer Jews of London.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 37.
+
+_From a Photograph by J. R. Sawyer, Norwich._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 44.
+
+_From a Photograph by Fradella, 216, Regent Street, W._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photograph by The Photographic Co._]
+
+
+SIR ARCHIBALD ALISON, BART., K.C.B.
+
+Born 1826.
+
+General Alison, son of Sir Archibald Alison, the first Baronet, who was
+the well-known author of "The History of Europe," was born at Edinburgh,
+and entered the Army at the age of twenty. He served in the Crimea, at
+the siege and fall of Sebastopol, at which date our second portrait
+represents him. During the Indian Mutiny he lost an arm at the relief of
+Lucknow. In 1882 he commanded the 1st Brigade, 2nd Division, during the
+expedition to Egypt, and at the decisive battle of Tel-el-Kebir he led
+the Highland Brigade which fought so gallantly on that memorable
+occasion, and after Arabi's surrender he was left in Egypt with the
+command of the British army of 12,000 men to restore order and protect
+the Khedive. Sir Archibald was included in the thanks of Parliament for
+his energy and gallantry, and was promoted to the rank of
+Lieutenant-General; he received his appointment as General in 1889. In
+1869 Sir Archibald Alison published an able treatise, "On Army
+Organization."
+
+[Illustration: AGE 3.
+
+_From a Miniature._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 31.
+
+_From a Daguerreotype by Werge, Glasgow._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 47.
+
+_From a Photograph by Jacklett, Aldershot._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo, by Barraud._]
+
+
+MADAME JANE HADING.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 3.
+
+_From a Photo. by Chalot et Cie., Paris._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 5.
+
+_From a Photo. by Chalot et Cie., Paris._]
+
+Madame Jane Hading, the well-known French actress, was born at
+Marseilles, in 1863, where her father was popular as a leading actor,
+with whom she appeared when only three years of age as little _Blanche
+de Caylus_ in "Le Bossu." At the age of thirteen she began work in
+earnest, having won "le prix de solfege" at the Marseille Conservatoire,
+and her talent having come to the ears of Mr. Plunkett, the director of
+the Palais Royal, he engaged her for the Palais Royal in Paris, where
+she created the part of _La Chaste Suzanne_, by Paul Ferrier. Giving up
+comic opera for comedy, Jane Hading went to the Gymnase, where she
+created the part of _Claire de Beaulieu_ in "Le Maitre de Forges."
+London had the opportunity of seeing her in that and "Prince Zilah," by
+Jules Claretie, later on, and fully indorsed the Parisian verdict. These
+conspicuous successes were followed by others almost as notable, and her
+subsequent tour in America won her golden opinions, and was so
+successful that it was extended some months. Her latest Parisian success
+was "Le Prince d'Aurec," which added greatly to her laurels, putting her
+in the very front rank of great artists.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 15.
+
+_From a Photo. by Fabre, Marseilles._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo, by Reutlinger, Paris._]
+
+
+
+
+_The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_.
+
+XVI.--THE ADVENTURE OF THE STOCKBROKER'S CLERK.
+
+BY A. CONAN DOYLE.
+
+
+Shortly after my marriage I had bought a connection in the Paddington
+district. Old Mr. Farquhar, from whom I purchased it, had at one time an
+excellent general practice, but his age, and an affliction of the nature
+of St. Vitus' dance, from which he suffered, had very much thinned it.
+The public, not unnaturally, goes upon the principle that he who would
+heal others must himself be whole, and looks askance at the curative
+powers of the man whose own case is beyond the reach of his drugs. Thus,
+as my predecessor weakened, his practice declined, until when I
+purchased it from him it had sunk from twelve hundred to little more
+than three hundred a year. I had confidence, however, in my own youth
+and energy, and was convinced that in a very few years the concern would
+be as flourishing as ever.
+
+For three months after taking over the practice I was kept very closely
+at work, and saw little of my friend Sherlock Holmes, for I was too busy
+to visit Baker Street, and he seldom went anywhere himself save upon
+professional business. I was surprised, therefore, when one morning in
+June, as I sat reading the _British Medical Journal_ after breakfast, I
+heard a ring at the bell followed by the high, somewhat strident, tones
+of my old companion's voice.
+
+"Ah, my dear Watson," said he, striding into the room. "I am very
+delighted to see you. I trust that Mrs. Watson has entirely recovered
+from all the little excitements connected with our adventure of the
+'Sign of Four.'"
+
+"Thank you, we are both very well," said I, shaking him warmly by the
+hand.
+
+"And I hope also," he continued, sitting down in the rocking-chair,
+"that the cares of medical practice have not entirely obliterated the
+interest which you used to take in our little deductive problems."
+
+"On the contrary," I answered; "it was only last night that I was
+looking over my old notes and classifying some of our past results."
+
+"I trust that you don't consider your collection closed?"
+
+"Not at all. I should wish nothing better than to have some more of such
+experiences."
+
+"To-day, for example?"
+
+"Yes; to-day, if you like."
+
+"And as far off as Birmingham?"
+
+"Certainly, if you wish it."
+
+"And the practice?"
+
+"I do my neighbour's when he goes. He is always ready to work off the
+debt."
+
+[Illustration: "'NOTHING COULD BE BETTER,' SAID HOLMES."]
+
+"Ha! Nothing could be better!" said Holmes, leaning back in his chair
+and looking keenly at me from under his half-closed lids. "I perceive
+that you have been unwell lately. Summer colds are always a little
+trying."
+
+"I was confined to the house by a severe chill for three days last week.
+I thought, however, that I had cast off every trace of it."
+
+"So you have. You look remarkably robust."
+
+"How, then, did you know of it?"
+
+"My dear fellow, you know my methods."
+
+"You deduced it, then?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"And from what?"
+
+"From your slippers."
+
+I glanced down at the new patent leathers which I was wearing. "How on
+earth----?" I began, but Holmes answered my question before it was
+asked.
+
+"Your slippers are new," he said. "You could not have had them more than
+a few weeks. The soles which you are at this moment presenting to me are
+slightly scorched. For a moment I thought they might have got wet and
+been burned in the drying. But near the instep there is a small circular
+wafer of paper with the shopman's hieroglyphics upon it. Damp would of
+course have removed this. You had then been sitting with your feet
+outstretched to the fire, which a man would hardly do even in so wet a
+June as this if he were in his full health."
+
+Like all Holmes's reasoning the thing seemed simplicity itself when it
+was once explained. He read the thought upon my features, and his smile
+had a tinge of bitterness.
+
+"I am afraid that I rather give myself away when I explain," said he.
+"Results without causes are much more impressive. You are ready to come
+to Birmingham, then?"
+
+"Certainly. What is the case?"
+
+"You shall hear it all in the train. My client is outside in a
+four-wheeler. Can you come at once?"
+
+"In an instant." I scribbled a note to my neighbour, rushed upstairs to
+explain the matter to my wife, and joined Holmes upon the doorstep.
+
+"Your neighbour is a doctor?" said he, nodding at the brass plate.
+
+"Yes. He bought a practice as I did."
+
+"An old-established one?"
+
+"Just the same as mine. Both have been ever since the houses were
+built."
+
+"Ah, then you got hold of the best of the two."
+
+"I think I did. But how do you know?"
+
+"By the steps, my boy. Yours are worn three inches deeper than his. But
+this gentleman in the cab is my client, Mr. Hall Pycroft. Allow me to
+introduce you to him. Whip your horse up, cabby, for we have only just
+time to catch our train."
+
+The man whom I found myself facing was a well-built, fresh-complexioned
+young fellow with a frank, honest face and a slight, crisp, yellow
+moustache. He wore a very shiny top-hat and a neat suit of sober black,
+which made him look what he was--a smart young City man, of the class
+who have been labelled Cockneys, but who give us our crack Volunteer
+regiments, and who turn out more fine athletes and sportsmen than any
+body of men in these islands. His round, ruddy face was naturally full
+of cheeriness, but the corners of his mouth seemed to me to be pulled
+down in a half-comical distress. It was not, however, until we were all
+in a first-class carriage and well started upon our journey to
+Birmingham, that I was able to learn what the trouble was which had
+driven him to Sherlock Holmes.
+
+"We have a clear run here of seventy minutes," Holmes remarked. "I want
+you, Mr. Hall Pycroft, to tell my friend your very interesting
+experience exactly as you have told it to me, or with more detail if
+possible. It will be of use to me to hear the succession of events
+again. It is a case, Watson, which may prove to have something in it, or
+may prove to have nothing, but which at least presents those unusual and
+_outre_ features which are as dear to you as they are to me. Now, Mr.
+Pycroft, I shall not interrupt you again."
+
+Our young companion looked at me with a twinkle in his eye.
+
+"The worst of the story is," said he, "that I show myself up as such a
+confounded fool. Of course, it may work out all right, and I don't see
+that I could have done otherwise; but if I have lost my crib and get
+nothing in exchange, I shall feel what a soft Johnny I have been. I'm
+not very good at telling a story, Dr. Watson, but it is like this with
+me.
+
+"I used to have a billet at Coxon and Woodhouse, of Drapers' Gardens,
+but they were let in early in the spring through the Venezuelan loan, as
+no doubt you remember, and came a nasty cropper. I had been with them
+five years, and old Coxon gave me a ripping good testimonial when the
+smash came; but, of course, we clerks were all turned adrift, the
+twenty-seven of us. I tried here and tried there, but there were lots of
+other chaps on the same lay as myself, and it was a perfect frost for a
+long time. I had been taking three pounds a week at Coxon's, and I had
+saved about seventy of them, but I soon worked my way through that and
+out at the other end. I was fairly at the end of my tether at last, and
+could hardly find the stamps to answer the advertisements or the
+envelopes to stick them to. I had worn out my boots padding up office
+stairs, and I seemed just as far from getting a billet as ever.
+
+"At last I saw a vacancy at Mawson and Williams', the great stockbroking
+firm in Lombard Street. I daresay E. C. is not much in your line, but I
+can tell you that this is about the richest house in London. The
+advertisement was to be answered by letter only. I sent in my
+testimonial and application, but without the least hope of getting it.
+Back came an answer by return saying that if I would appear next Monday
+I might take over my new duties at once, provided that my appearance was
+satisfactory. No one knows how these things are worked. Some people say
+the manager just plunges his hand into the heap and takes the first that
+comes. Anyhow, it was my innings that time, and I don't ever wish to
+feel better pleased. The screw was a pound a week rise, and the duties
+just about the same as at Coxon's.
+
+"And now I come to the queer part of the business. I was in diggings out
+Hampstead way--17, Potter's Terrace, was the address. Well, I was
+sitting doing a smoke that very evening after I had been promised the
+appointment, when up came my landlady with a card which had 'Arthur
+Pinner, financial agent,' printed upon it. I had never heard the name
+before, and could not imagine what he wanted with me, but of course I
+asked her to show him up. In he walked--a middle-sized, dark-haired,
+dark-eyed, black-bearded man, with a touch of the sheeny about his nose.
+He had a brisk kind of way with him and spoke sharply, like a man that
+knew the value of time.
+
+[Illustration: "'MR. HALL PYCROFT, I BELIEVE?' SAID HE."]
+
+"'Mr. Hall Pycroft, I believe?' said he.
+
+"'Yes, sir,' I answered, and pushed a chair towards him.
+
+"'Lately engaged at Coxon and Woodhouse's?'
+
+"'Yes, sir.'
+
+"And now on the staff of Mawson's?'
+
+"'Quite so.'
+
+"'Well,' said he. 'The fact is that I have heard some really
+extraordinary stories about your financial ability. You remember Parker
+who used to be Coxon's manager? He can never say enough about it.'
+
+"Of course I was pleased to hear this. I had always been pretty smart in
+the office, but I had never dreamed that I was talked about in the City
+in this fashion.
+
+"'You have a good memory?' said he.
+
+"'Pretty fair,' I answered, modestly.
+
+"'Have you kept in touch with the market while you have been out of
+work?' he asked.
+
+"'Yes; I read the Stock Exchange List every morning.'
+
+"'Now, that shows real application!' he cried. 'That is the way to
+prosper! You won't mind my testing you, will you? Let me see! How are
+Ayrshires?'
+
+"'One hundred and six and a quarter to one hundred and five and
+seven-eighths,' I answered.
+
+"'And New Zealand Consolidated?'
+
+"'A hundred and four.'
+
+"'And British Broken Hills?'
+
+"'Seven to seven and six.'
+
+"'Wonderful!' he cried, with his hands up. 'This quite fits in with all
+that I had heard. My boy, my boy, you are very much too good to be a
+clerk at Mawson's!'
+
+"This outburst rather astonished me, as you can think. 'Well,' said I,
+'other people don't think quite so much of me as you seem to do, Mr.
+Pinner. I had a hard enough fight to get this berth, and I am very glad
+to have it.'
+
+"'Pooh, man, you should soar above it. You are not in your true sphere.
+Now I'll tell you how it stands with me. What I have to offer is little
+enough when measured by your ability, but when compared with Mawson's it
+is light to dark. Let me see! When do you go to Mawson's?'
+
+"'On Monday.'
+
+"'Ha! ha! I think I would risk a little sporting flutter that you don't
+go there at all.'
+
+"'Not go to Mawson's?'
+
+"'No, sir. By that day you will be the business manager of the
+Franco-Midland Hardware Company, Limited, with one hundred and
+thirty-four branches in the towns and villages of France, not counting
+one in Brussels and one in San Remo.'
+
+"This took my breath away. 'I never heard of it,' said I.
+
+"'Very likely not. It has been kept very quiet, for the capital was all
+privately subscribed, and it is too good a thing to let the public into.
+My brother, Harry Pinner, is promoter, and joins the board after
+allotment as managing director. He knew that I was in the swim down
+here, and he asked me to pick up a good man cheap--a young, pushing man
+with plenty of snap about him. Parker spoke of you, and that brought me
+here to-night. We can only offer you a beggarly five hundred to start
+with----'
+
+"'Five hundred a year!' I shouted.
+
+"'Only that at the beginning, but you are to have an over-riding
+commission of 1 per cent, on all business done by your agents, and you
+may take my word for it that this will come to more than your salary.'
+
+"'But I know nothing about hardware.'
+
+"'Tut, my boy, you know about figures.'
+
+"My head buzzed, and I could hardly sit still in the chair. But suddenly
+a little chill of doubt came over me.
+
+"'I must be frank with you,' said I. 'Mawson only gives me two hundred,
+but Mawson is safe. Now, really, I know so little about your company
+that----'
+
+"'Ah, smart, smart!' he cried, in a kind of ecstasy of delight. 'You are
+the very man for us! You are not to be talked over, and quite right too.
+Now, here's a note for a hundred pounds; and if you think that we can do
+business you may just slip it into your pocket as an advance upon your
+salary.'
+
+"'That is very handsome,' said I. 'When should I take over my new
+duties?'
+
+"'Be in Birmingham to-morrow at one,' said he. 'I have a note in my
+pocket here which you will take to my brother. You will find him at
+126B, Corporation Street, where the temporary offices of the company are
+situated. Of course he must confirm your engagement, but between
+ourselves it will be all right.'
+
+"'Really, I hardly know how to express my gratitude, Mr. Pinner,' said
+I.
+
+"'Not at all, my boy. You have only got your deserts. There are one or
+two small things--mere formalities--which I must arrange with you. You
+have a bit of paper beside you there. Kindly write upon it, "I am
+perfectly willing to act as business manager to the Franco-Midland
+Hardware Company, Limited, at a minimum salary of L500."'
+
+"I did as he asked, and he put the paper in his pocket.
+
+"'There is one other detail,' said he. 'What do you intend to do about
+Mawson's?'
+
+"I had forgotten all about Mawson's in my joy.
+
+"'I'll write and resign,' said I.
+
+"'Precisely what I don't want you to do. I had a row over you with
+Mawson's manager. I had gone up to ask him about you, and he was very
+offensive--accused me of coaxing you away from the service of the firm,
+and that sort of thing. At last I fairly lost my temper. "If you want
+good men you should pay them a good price," said I. "He would rather
+have our small price than your big one," said he. "I'll lay you a
+fiver," said I, "that when he has my offer you will never so much as
+hear from him again." "Done!" said he. "We picked him out of the gutter,
+and he won't leave us so easily." Those were his very words.'
+
+"'The impudent scoundrel!' I cried. 'I've never so much as seen him in
+my life. Why should I consider him in any way? I shall certainly not
+write if you would rather that I didn't.'
+
+"'Good! That's a promise!' said he, rising from his chair. 'Well, I am
+delighted to have got so good a man for my brother. Here is your
+advance of a hundred pounds, and here is the letter. Make a note of the
+address, 126B, Corporation Street, and remember that one o'clock
+to-morrow is your appointment. Good-night, and may you have all the
+fortune that you deserve.'
+
+"That's just about all that passed between us as near as I can remember
+it. You can imagine, Dr. Watson, how pleased I was at such an
+extraordinary bit of good fortune. I sat up half the night hugging
+myself over it, and next day I was off to Birmingham in a train that
+would take me in plenty of time for my appointment. I took my things to
+an hotel in New Street, and then I made my way to the address which had
+been given me.
+
+"It was a quarter of an hour before my time, but I thought that would
+make no difference. 126B was a passage between two large shops which led
+to a winding stone stair, from which there were many flats, let as
+offices to companies or professional men. The names of the occupants
+were painted up at the bottom on the wall, but there was no such name as
+the Franco-Midland Hardware Company, Limited. I stood for a few minutes
+with my heart in my boots, wondering whether the whole thing was an
+elaborate hoax or not, when up came a man and addressed me. He was very
+like the chap that I had seen the night before, the same figure and
+voice, but he was clean shaven and his hair was lighter.
+
+[Illustration: "UP CAME A MAN AND ADDRESSED ME."]
+
+"'Are you Mr. Hall Pycroft?' he asked.
+
+"'Yes,' said I.
+
+"'Ah! I was expecting you, but you are a trifle before your time. I had
+a note from my brother this morning, in which he sang your praises very
+loudly.'
+
+"'I was just looking for the offices when you came.'
+
+"'We have not got our name up yet, for we only secured these temporary
+premises last week. Come up with me and we will talk the matter over.'
+
+"I followed him to the top of a very lofty stair, and there right under
+the slates were a couple of empty and dusty little rooms, uncarpeted and
+uncurtained, into which he led me. I had thought of a great office with
+shining tables and rows of clerks such as I was used to, and I daresay I
+stared rather straight at the two deal chairs and one little table,
+which, with a ledger and a waste-paper basket, made up the whole
+furniture.
+
+"'Don't be disheartened, Mr. Pycroft,' said my new acquaintance, seeing
+the length of my face. 'Rome was not built in a day, and we have lots of
+money at our backs, though we don't cut much dash yet in offices. Pray
+sit down and let me have your letter.'
+
+"I gave it to him, and he read it over very carefully.
+
+"'You seem to have made a vast impression upon my brother, Arthur,' said
+he, 'and I know that he is a pretty shrewd judge. He swears by London,
+you know, and I by Birmingham, but this time I shall follow his advice.
+Pray consider yourself definitely engaged.'
+
+"'What are my duties?' I asked.
+
+"'You will eventually manage the great depot in Paris, which will pour a
+flood of English crockery into the shops of one hundred and thirty-four
+agents in France. The purchase will be completed in a week, and
+meanwhile you will remain in Birmingham and make yourself useful.'
+
+"'How?'
+
+"For answer he took a big red book out of a drawer. 'This is a directory
+of Paris,' said he, 'with the trades after the names of the people. I
+want you to take it home with you, and to mark off all the hardware
+sellers with their addresses. It would be of the greatest use to me to
+have them.'
+
+"'Surely, there are classified lists?' I suggested.
+
+"'Not reliable ones. Their system is different to ours. Stick at it and
+let me have the lists by Monday, at twelve. Good-day, Mr. Pycroft; if
+you continue to show zeal and intelligence, you will find the company a
+good master.'
+
+"I went back to the hotel with the big book under my arm, and with very
+conflicting feelings in my breast. On the one hand I was definitely
+engaged, and had a hundred pounds in my pocket. On the other, the look
+of the offices, the absence of name on the wall, and other of the points
+which would strike a business man had left a bad impression as to the
+position of my employers. However, come what might, I had my money, so I
+settled down to my task. All Sunday I was kept hard at work, and yet by
+Monday I had only got as far as H. I went round to my employer, found
+him in the same dismantled kind of room, and was told to keep at it
+until Wednesday, and then come again. On Wednesday it was still
+unfinished, so I hammered away until Friday--that is, yesterday. Then I
+brought it round to Mr. Harry Pinner.
+
+"'Thank you very much,' said he. 'I fear that I underrated the
+difficulty of the task. This list will be of very material assistance to
+me.'
+
+"'It took some time,' said I.
+
+"'And now,' said he, 'I want you to make a list of the furniture shops,
+for they all sell crockery.'
+
+"'Very good.'
+
+"'And you can come up to-morrow evening at seven, and let me know how
+you are getting on. Don't overwork yourself. A couple of hours at Day's
+Music-Hall in the evening would do you no harm after your labours.' He
+laughed as he spoke, and I saw with a thrill that his second tooth upon
+the left-hand side had been very badly stuffed with gold."
+
+Sherlock Holmes rubbed his hands with delight, and I stared in
+astonishment at our client.
+
+"You may well look surprised, Dr. Watson, but it is this way," said he.
+"When I was speaking to the other chap in London at the time that he
+laughed at my not going to Mawson's, I happened to notice that his tooth
+was stuffed in this very identical fashion. The glint of the gold in
+each case caught my eye, you see. When I put that with the voice and
+figure being the same, and only those things altered which might be
+changed by a razor or a wig, I could not doubt that it was the same man.
+Of course, you expect two brothers to be alike, but not that they should
+have the same tooth stuffed in the same way. He bowed me out and I found
+myself in the street, hardly knowing whether I was on my head or my
+heels. Back I went to my hotel, put my head in a basin of cold water,
+and tried to think it out. Why had he sent me from London to Birmingham;
+why had he got there before me; and why had he written a letter from
+himself to himself? It was altogether too much for me, and I could make
+no sense of it. And then suddenly it struck me that what was dark to me
+might be very light to Mr. Sherlock Holmes. I had just time to get up to
+town by the night train, to see him this morning, and to bring you both
+back with me to Birmingham."
+
+There was a pause after the stockbroker's clerk had concluded his
+surprising experience. Then Sherlock Holmes cocked his eye at me,
+leaning back on the cushions with a pleased and yet critical face, like
+a connoisseur who had just taken his first sip of a comet vintage.
+
+"Rather fine, Watson, is it not?" said he. "There are points in it which
+please me. I think you will agree with me that an interview with Mr.
+Arthur Harry Pinner in the temporary offices of the Franco-Midland
+Hardware Company, Limited, would be a rather interesting experience for
+both of us."
+
+"But how can we do it?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, easily enough," said Hall Pycroft, cheerily. "You are two friends
+of mine who are in want of a billet, and what could be more natural than
+that I should bring you both round to the managing director?"
+
+"Quite so! Of course!" said Holmes. "I should like to have a look at the
+gentleman and see if I can make anything of his little game. What
+qualities have you, my friend, which would make your services so
+valuable? or is it possible that----" he began biting his nails and
+staring blankly out of the window, and we hardly drew another word from
+him until we were in New Street.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At seven o'clock that evening we were walking, the three of us, down
+Corporation Street to the company's offices.
+
+"It is of no use our being at all before our time," said our client. "He
+only comes there to see me apparently, for the place is deserted up to
+the very hour he names."
+
+"That is suggestive," remarked Holmes.
+
+"By Jove, I told you so!" cried the clerk. "That's he walking ahead of
+us there."
+
+He pointed to a smallish, blonde, well-dressed man, who was bustling
+along the other side of the road. As we watched him he looked across at
+a boy who was bawling out the latest edition of the evening paper, and,
+running over among the cabs and 'buses, he bought one from him. Then
+clutching it in his hand he vanished through a doorway.
+
+"There he goes!" cried Hall Pycroft. "Those are the company's offices
+into which he has gone. Come with me and I'll fix it up as easily as
+possible."
+
+Following his lead we ascended five stories, until we found ourselves
+outside a half-opened door, at which our client tapped. A voice within
+bade us "Come in," and we entered a bare, unfurnished room, such as Hall
+Pycroft had described. At the single table sat the man whom we had seen
+in the street, with his evening paper spread out in front of him, and as
+he looked up at us it seemed to me that I had never looked upon a face
+which bore such marks of grief, and of something beyond grief--of a
+horror such as comes to few men in a lifetime. His brow glistened with
+perspiration, his cheeks were of the dull dead white of a fish's belly,
+and his eyes were wild and staring. He looked at his clerk as though he
+failed to recognise him, and I could see, by the astonishment depicted
+upon our conductor's face, that this was by no means the usual
+appearance of his employer.
+
+[Illustration: "HE LOOKED UP AT US."]
+
+"You look ill, Mr. Pinner," he exclaimed.
+
+"Yes, I am not very well," answered the other, making obvious efforts to
+pull himself together, and licking his dry lips before he spoke. "Who
+are these gentlemen whom you have brought with you?"
+
+"One is Mr. Harris, of Bermondsey, and the other is Mr. Price, of this
+town," said our clerk, glibly. "They are friends of mine, and gentlemen
+of experience, but they have been out of a place for some little time,
+and they hoped that perhaps you might find an opening for them in the
+company's employment."
+
+"Very possibly! Very possibly!" cried Mr. Pinner, with a ghastly smile.
+"Yes, I have no doubt that we shall be able to do something for you.
+What is your particular line, Mr. Harris?"
+
+"I am an accountant," said Holmes.
+
+"Ah, yes, we shall want something of the sort. And you, Mr. Price?"
+
+"A clerk," said I.
+
+"I have every hope that the company may accommodate you. I will let you
+know about it as soon as we come to any conclusion. And now I beg that
+you will go. For God's sake, leave me to myself!"
+
+These last words were shot out of him, as though the constraint which he
+was evidently setting upon himself had suddenly and utterly burst
+asunder. Holmes and I glanced at each other, and Hall Pycroft took a
+step towards the table.
+
+"You forget, Mr. Pinner, that I am here by appointment to receive some
+directions from you," said he.
+
+"Certainly, Mr. Pycroft, certainly," the other answered in a calmer
+tone. "You may wait here a moment, and there is no reason why your
+friends should not wait with you. I will be entirely at your service in
+three minutes, if I might trespass upon your patience so far." He rose
+with a very courteous air, and bowing to us he passed out through a door
+at the further end of the room, which he closed behind him.
+
+"What now?" whispered Holmes. "Is he giving us the slip?"
+
+"Impossible," answered Pycroft.
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"That door leads into an inner room."
+
+"There is no exit?"
+
+"None."
+
+"Is it furnished?"
+
+"It was empty yesterday."
+
+"Then what on earth can he be doing? There is something which I don't
+understand in this matter. If ever a man was three parts mad with
+terror, that man's name is Pinner. What can have put the shivers on
+him?"
+
+"He suspects that we are detectives," I suggested.
+
+"That's it," said Pycroft.
+
+Holmes shook his head. "He did not turn pale. He _was_ pale when we
+entered the room," said he. "It is just possible that----"
+
+His words were interrupted by a sharp rat-tat from the direction of the
+inner door.
+
+"What the deuce is he knocking at his own door for?" cried the clerk.
+
+Again and much louder came the rat-tat-tat. We all gazed expectantly at
+the closed door. Glancing at Holmes I saw his face turn rigid, and he
+leaned forward in intense excitement. Then suddenly came a low gurgling,
+gargling sound and a brisk drumming upon woodwork. Holmes sprang
+frantically across the room and pushed at the door. It was fastened on
+the inner side. Following his example, we threw ourselves upon it with
+all our weight. One hinge snapped, then the other, and down came the
+door with a crash. Rushing over it we found ourselves in the inner room.
+
+[Illustration: "WE FOUND OURSELVES IN THE INNER ROOM."]
+
+It was empty.
+
+But it was only for a moment that we were at fault. At one corner, the
+corner nearest the room which we had left, there was a second door.
+Holmes sprang to it and pulled it open. A coat and waistcoat were lying
+on the floor, and from a hook behind the door, with his own braces round
+his neck, was hanging the managing director of the Franco-Midland
+Hardware Company. His knees were drawn up, his head hung at a dreadful
+angle to his body, and the clatter of his heels against the door made
+the noise which had broken in upon our conversation. In an instant I had
+caught him round the waist and held him up, while Holmes and Pycroft
+untied the elastic bands which had disappeared between the livid creases
+of skin. Then we carried him into the other room, where he lay with a
+clay-coloured face, puffing his purple lips in and out with every
+breath--a dreadful wreck of all that he had been but five minutes
+before.
+
+"What do you think of him, Watson?" asked Holmes.
+
+I stooped over him and examined him.
+
+His pulse was feeble and intermittent, but his breathing grew longer,
+and there was a little shivering of his eyelids which showed a thin
+white slit of ball beneath.
+
+"It has been touch and go with him," said I, "but he'll live now. Just
+open that window and hand me the water carafe." I undid his collar,
+poured the cold water over his face, and raised and sank his arms until
+he drew a long natural breath.
+
+"It's only a question of time now," said I, as I turned away from him.
+
+Holmes stood by the table with his hands deep in his trousers pockets
+and his chin upon his breast.
+
+"I suppose we ought to call the police in now," said he; "and yet I
+confess that I like to give them a complete case when they come."
+
+"It's a blessed mystery to me," cried Pycroft, scratching his head.
+"Whatever they wanted to bring me all the way up here for, and then----"
+
+"Pooh! All that is clear enough," said Holmes, impatiently. "It is this
+last sudden move."
+
+"You understand the rest, then?"
+
+"I think that it is fairly obvious. What do you say, Watson?"
+
+I shrugged my shoulders.
+
+"I must confess that I am out of my depths," said I.
+
+"Oh, surely, if you consider the events at first they can only point to
+one conclusion."
+
+"What do you make of them?"
+
+"Well, the whole thing hinges upon two points. The first is the making
+of Pycroft write a declaration by which he entered the service of this
+preposterous company. Do you not see how very suggestive that is?"
+
+"I am afraid I miss the point."
+
+"Well, why did they want him to do it? Not as a business matter, for
+these arrangements are usually verbal, and there was no earthly business
+reason why this should be an exception. Don't you see, my young friend,
+that they were very anxious to obtain a specimen of your handwriting,
+and had no other way of doing it?"
+
+"And why?"
+
+"Quite so. Why? When we answer that, we have made some progress with our
+little problem. Why? There can be only one adequate reason. Someone
+wanted to learn to imitate your writing, and had to procure a specimen
+of it first. And now if we pass on to the second point, we find that
+each throws light upon the other. That point is the request made by
+Pinner that you should not resign your place, but should leave the
+manager of this important business in the full expectation that a Mr.
+Hall Pycroft, whom he had never seen, was about to enter the office upon
+the Monday morning."
+
+"My God!" cried our client, "what a blind beetle I have been!"
+
+"Now you see the point about the handwriting. Suppose that someone
+turned up in your place who wrote a completely different hand from that
+in which you had applied for the vacancy, of course the game would have
+been up. But in the interval the rogue learnt to imitate you, and his
+position was therefore secure, as I presume that nobody in the office
+had ever set eyes upon you?"
+
+"Not a soul," groaned Hall Pycroft.
+
+"Very good. Of course, it was of the utmost importance to prevent you
+from thinking better of it, and also to keep you from coming into
+contact with anyone who might tell you that your double was at work in
+Mawson's office. Therefore they gave you a handsome advance on your
+salary, and ran you off to the Midlands, where they gave you enough work
+to do to prevent your going to London, where you might have burst their
+little game up. That is all plain enough."
+
+"But why should this man pretend to be his own brother?"
+
+"Well, that is pretty clear also. There are evidently only two of them
+in it. The other is personating you at the office. This one acted as
+your engager, and then found that he could not find you an employer
+without admitting a third person into his plot. That he was most
+unwilling to do. He changed his appearance as far as he could, and
+trusted that the likeness, which you could not fail to observe, would be
+put down to a family resemblance. But for the happy chance of the gold
+stuffing your suspicions would probably have never been aroused."
+
+Hall Pycroft shook his clenched hands in the air. "Good Lord!" he cried.
+"While I have been fooled in this way, what has this other Hall Pycroft
+been doing at Mawson's? What should we do, Mr. Holmes? Tell me what to
+do!"
+
+"We must wire to Mawson's."
+
+"They shut at twelve on Saturdays."
+
+"Never mind; there may be some doorkeeper or attendant----"
+
+"Ah, yes; they keep a permanent guard there on account of the value of
+the securities that they hold. I remember hearing it talked of in the
+City."
+
+[Illustration: "PYCROFT SHOOK HIS CLENCHED HANDS IN THE AIR."]
+
+"Very good, we shall wire to him, and see if all is well, and if a clerk
+of your name is working there. That is clear enough, but what is not so
+clear is why at sight of us one of the rogues should instantly walk out
+of the room and hang himself."
+
+"The paper!" croaked a voice behind us. The man was sitting up, blanched
+and ghastly, with returning reason in his eyes, and hands which rubbed
+nervously at the broad red band which still encircled his throat.
+
+"The paper! Of course!" yelled Holmes, in a paroxysm of excitement.
+"Idiot that I was! I thought so much of our visit that the paper never
+entered my head for an instant. To be sure the secret must lie there."
+He flattened it out upon the table, and a cry of triumph burst from his
+lips.
+
+"Look at this, Watson!" he cried. "It is a London paper, an early
+edition of the _Evening Standard_. Here is what we want. Look at the
+headlines--'Crime in the City. Murder at Mawson and Williams'. Gigantic
+Attempted Robbery; Capture of the Criminal.' Here, Watson, we are all
+equally anxious to hear it, so kindly read it aloud to us."
+
+It appeared from its position in the paper to have been the one event of
+importance in town, and the account of it ran in this way:--
+
+"A desperate attempt at robbery, culminating in the death of one man and
+the capture of the criminal, occurred this afternoon in the City. For
+some time back Mawson and Williams, the famous financial house, have
+been the guardians of securities which amount in the aggregate to a sum
+of considerably over a million sterling. So conscious was the manager of
+the responsibility which devolved upon him in consequence of the great
+interests at stake, that safes of the very latest construction have been
+employed, and an armed watchman has been left day and night in the
+building. It appears that last week a new clerk, named Hall Pycroft, was
+engaged by the firm. This person appears to have been none other than
+Beddington, the famous forger and cracksman, who, with his brother, has
+only recently emerged from a five years' spell of penal servitude. By
+some means, which are not yet clear, he succeeded in winning, under a
+false name, this official position in the office, which he utilized in
+order to obtain mouldings of various locks, and a thorough knowledge of
+the position of the strong room and the safes.
+
+"It is customary at Mawson's for the clerks to leave at midday on
+Saturday. Sergeant Tuson, of the City Police, was somewhat surprised
+therefore to see a gentleman with a carpet bag come down the steps at
+twenty minutes past one. His suspicions being aroused, the sergeant
+followed the man, and with the aid of Constable Pollock succeeded, after
+a most desperate resistance, in arresting him. It was at once clear that
+a daring and gigantic robbery had been committed. Nearly a hundred
+thousand pounds worth of American railway bonds, with a large amount of
+scrip in other mines and companies, were discovered in the bag. On
+examining the premises the body of the unfortunate watchman was found
+doubled up and thrust into the largest of the safes, where it would not
+have been discovered until Monday morning had it not been for the prompt
+action of Sergeant Tuson. The man's skull had been shattered by a blow
+from a poker, delivered from behind. There could be no doubt that
+Beddington had obtained entrance by pretending that he had left
+something behind him, and having murdered the watchman, rapidly rifled
+the large safe, and then made off with his booty. His brother, who
+usually works with him, has not appeared in this job, so far as can at
+present be ascertained, although the police are making energetic
+inquiries as to his whereabouts."
+
+[Illustration: "GLANCING AT THE HAGGARD FIGURE."]
+
+"Well, we may save the police some little trouble in that direction,"
+said Holmes, glancing at the haggard figure huddled up by the window.
+"Human nature is a strange mixture, Watson. You see that even a villain
+and a murderer can inspire such affection that his brother turns to
+suicide when he learns that his neck is forfeited. However, we have no
+choice as to our action. The doctor and I will remain on guard, Mr.
+Pycroft, if you will have the kindness to step out for the police."
+
+
+
+
+_Beauties._
+
+[Illustration: FROM PHOTOGRAPHS BY MESSRS. ELLIOTT AND FRY, BAKER
+STREET, W.]
+
+[Illustration: Miss Webster
+
+Madame Shirmer-Mapleson
+
+Madame Sigrid Arnoldson]
+
+[Illustration: Miss ALICE LETHBRIDGE
+
+Miss Flo Henderson
+
+Mdlle. Del Torre]
+
+
+
+
+_Hands._
+
+BY BECKLES WILLSON.
+
+II.
+
+
+[Illustration: CASTING A HAND FROM LIFE.
+
+(_Studio of Mr. Onslow Ford, A.R.A._)]
+
+The sculptor's practice of casting in plaster the hands of his client is
+of comparatively recent growth. The artist of the old school--and he is
+followed in this by many of the new--disdained so mechanical a means to
+fidelity. Very few, indeed, among the British painters and sculptors of
+the past will be found who took the pains to see that the hands or even
+the figures of their counterfeit presentments on canvas or in marble
+tallied with the originals. Sir Joshua Reynolds, as we know, would have
+regarded this as the essence of finical vulgarity.
+
+The principal drawback in making casts from life is to be found in the
+discomfort, not to speak of the actual torment, it often causes the
+sitter by the adhesion of the plaster to the hairy growth of the skin.
+Various methods are resorted to with a view to obviate this, and in some
+cases successfully.
+
+The hands of Thomas Carlyle--stubborn, combative, mystical--which appear
+in the present paper, will amply repay the closest scrutiny. These hands
+are unwontedly realistic, and emphasize their distinctiveness in every
+vein and wrinkle. They appear to be themselves endowed with each of
+those various qualities which caused their possessor to be regarded as
+one of the most puissant figures in the century's literature. The hand
+is not one, to use Charles Lamb's expressive phrase, to be looked at
+_standing on one leg_. It deserves a keener examination.
+
+[Illustration: THOMAS CARLYLE'S HANDS.]
+
+Mention has been made of the hand of a distinguished prelate, Cardinal
+Manning. It will not be out of place to compare it with the hands of
+the late Archbishop of Canterbury, which were cast posthumously.
+Scarcely anything could be more antagonistic. The nervous personality of
+Manning is wanting here. The hands of the Archbishop seem more to belong
+to the order of the benevolent Bishop Myriel than to that of the
+enthusiast and ascetic.
+
+[Illustration: THE LATE ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY'S HANDS.]
+
+[Illustration: LORD PALMERSTON'S HAND.]
+
+Plenty of opportunity to study the hands of statesmen is afforded in
+those of Lord Palmerston, Count Cavour, Sir Stratford Canning, and Lord
+Melbourne. The fallacy of attaching special qualities to any distinctive
+trait in the hand of an eminent person is most readily discernible here.
+One should avoid _a posteriori_ reasoning. It would be the same for a
+physiognomist to argue a man a statesman from a facial resemblance to
+Mr. Gladstone, or that he is fit to write tragedies because he owns the
+exact facial proportions of Sardou.
+
+[Illustration: COUNT CAVOUR'S HANDS.]
+
+[Illustration: SIR STRATFORD CANNING'S HANDS.]
+
+Among these the hand of Lord Palmerston will stand forth most
+prominently to the reader. Its characteristics are, on the whole,
+sufficiently obvious, in the appended cast, to be thought accentuated.
+It might not unprofitably be noted in connection with those of Stratford
+Canning, Viscount de Redcliffe (for fifty years British Ambassador in
+India), whose statue by Boehm, with Tennyson's famous epitaph:
+
+    Thou third great Canning, stand among our best
+      And noblest, now thy long day's work hath ceased,
+    Here, silent in our Minster of the West,
+      Who wert the voice of England in the East!
+
+is in a nave of the Abbey. With these should be joined the hand of
+Viscount Melbourne, the predecessor of Sir Robert Peel in the
+Premiership, and the great statesman after whom the city of Melbourne
+was named, in order to range this British galaxy against the hands of
+the Italian patriots, Count Cavour and Joseph Garibaldi, whose labours
+resulted in that master stroke of latter-day politics, the unification
+of Italy. Those of the former were cast separately in different
+positions, it being the intention of the sculptor for the right hand to
+rest lightly upon a column and the left to grasp a roll of parchment.
+Garibaldi's hand may be described as both virile and nervous.
+
+[Illustration: LORD MELBOURNE'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: HAND OF JOHN BURNS, M.P.]
+
+[Illustration: HAND OF JOSEPH ARCH, M.P.]
+
+[Illustration: GARIBALDI'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: SIR E. BOEHM'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: HAND OF JOHN JACKSON, R.A.]
+
+Another type of hand is exemplified in the hands of Messrs. Joseph Arch
+and John Burns. Both of these belong to self-made men, accustomed to
+hard manual labour from childhood. Their powerful ruggedness is
+admirably set off by the exquisite symmetry and feminine proportions of
+the hand of John Jackson a Royal Academician and great painter of his
+time. For symmetry, combined with grace, this hand is not surpassed.
+
+The hand of Sir Edgar Boehm was cast by his assistant, Professor
+Lanteri, for the former's statue of Sir Francis Drake. It will be
+observed that the fingers grasp a pair of compasses, the original of
+those which appear in the bronze at Plymouth.
+
+[Illustration: LADY BLESSINGTON'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: MRS. CARLYLE'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: MRS. THORNYCROFT'S HAND.]
+
+Reverting to the ladies again, interest will, no doubt, centre upon the
+hand of the celebrated Lady Blessington, accounted the wittiest hostess
+of her day; and not least attractive will appear Mrs. Carlyle's and
+those of Mrs. Thornycroft and the celebrated Madame Tussaud. The wife of
+the Chelsea sage was herself, as is known, an authoress of no mean
+repute.
+
+A comparison of the hand of Mr. Bancroft with that of Mr. Irving, given
+last month, will prove interesting, if not instructive.
+
+[Illustration: MME. TUSSAUD'S HAND.]
+
+It has been said that the hands of Carlyle are characteristic; that they
+possess, with those of Wilkie Collins, the merit of being precisely the
+sort of hands one would expect to see so labelled. We now present a
+third candidate for this merit of candour in casts of the hands of the
+notorious Arthur Orton, better known under the sobriquet of the
+Claimant. They are pulseless, chubby, oblique: yet they are remarkable.
+In scrutinizing them, it is difficult not to feel that one looks upon
+hands very remote indeed from the ordinary.
+
+[Illustration: MR. BANCROFT'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: HANDS OF THE TICHBORNE CLAIMANT.]
+
+Next we look upon the hand of a giant even superior to Anak, in
+Loushkin, the Russian. But physically great as was the Muscovite, it is
+to be doubted if he really attained the world-wide celebrity of the
+little American, Charles Stratton (otherwise known as "Tom Thumb"),
+whose extremity serves as a foil to his rival for exhibition honours.
+
+Another Boehm relic requires some explanation. Every visitor to the
+Metropolis has doubtless seen and admired the heroic equestrian statue
+of the Duke of Wellington, opposite Apsley House. They may even have
+noticed the right hand, which is represented as lightly holding the rein
+of the animal. The appended was cast from the original model in clay of
+the hand of the Duke, no cast direct from life ever having been
+executed.
+
+[Illustration: THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON'S HAND.]
+
+It is sufficient to say that the subjoined hand and arm of Lady
+Cardigan, wife of the noted Crimean warrior, was one greatly admired by
+Sir Edgar, in whose studio it hung for many years. In like manner will
+the hand of Lady Richard Grosvenor be found the possessor of many
+beautiful and interesting traits.
+
+[Illustration: THE HANDS OF "TOM THUMB" AND LOUSHKIN, THE RUSSIAN
+GIANT.]
+
+[Illustration: LADY CARDIGAN'S HAND.]
+
+A member not altogether dissimilar to that of the musician Liszt is the
+hand of Carl von Angeli, Court painter to Her Majesty, and like that
+also in setting at naught the conclusions too often arrived at by the
+chirognomist. For there is here breadth without symmetry, and an utter
+absence of the poise which we look for in the ideal hand of the artist.
+It is instructive to compare it to the hand of the painter, John
+Jackson.
+
+[Illustration: LADY RICHARD GROSVENOR'S HAND.]
+
+[Illustration: CARL ANGELI'S HAND.]
+
+Observe the massive, masculine fingers and disproportionately small
+finger-nails in the hands of Professor Weekes, the sculptor. There is
+scarcely any perceptible tapering at the third joint, and the fingers
+all exhibit very little prominence of knuckle or contour. It is anything
+but an artistic hand, and yet its owner was a man of the keenest
+artistic perceptions.
+
+In Frederick Baring's (Lord Ashburton) we find the thick-set fingers,
+and what the chirognomist calls the "lack of manual repose," of the
+great financier. But as his lordship was statesman with a talent for
+debate as well as man of commerce, it will not unlikely be found that
+the hand presented combines the both temperaments.
+
+[Illustration: PROFESSOR WEEKES' HANDS.]
+
+[Illustration: LORD ASHBURTON'S HAND.]
+
+I have been enabled, through the kindness of Mr. J. T. Tussaud, to
+embellish the present collection by an ancient cast of the hand of the
+Comte de Lorge, a famous prisoner in the Bastille. This cast was taken,
+together with a death mask, after death, by the great-grandmother of the
+sculptor, to whom both relics have descended.
+
+The Queen's hands, which appeared in the last issue of this Magazine,
+were cast by John Francis, a famous sculptor of the day. Mr. Hamo
+Thorneycroft, R.A., writes me to say that "While the moulds were being
+made Her Majesty removed all the rings from her fingers _except_ the
+wedding ring. This she was most anxious should not come off, and was in
+considerable fear lest the moulding process might remove it."
+
+[Illustration: COMTE DE LORGE'S HAND.]
+
+
+[_The original drawings of the illustrations in this Magazine are always
+on view, and on sale, in the Art Gallery at these offices, which is open
+to the public without charge._]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: ROSITA]
+
+FROM THE FRENCH OF PITRE CHEVALIER.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+It was harvest day at a house in the little village of Panola, in
+Castile, on the 25th of August, 1838. The great sheaves of corn had been
+borne, amidst universal rejoicing, to their resting-place in the
+granary. All the village inhabitants had shared in this pleasant task,
+and now, following an ancient custom, they had erected a trophy composed
+of a few last sheaves of corn, round which the young girls and men began
+to dance gaily, to the sound of guitars and castanets.
+
+Within the house, in a room which overlooked this charming scene, were
+two men.
+
+The first, seated at a table, was an old man over sixty, but enfeebled
+rather by cares than by age. His venerable head, crowned with white
+hair, drooped upon his breast with patriarchal dignity. The old man, who
+had been a soldier in the Spanish army, was Don Pedro de la Sarga, a
+Castilian as noble as he was poor. His companion was his son, Don
+Stephano, a young man of twenty, considered the most accomplished man in
+Panola. He was handsome; his warm, brown skin, his large, black eyes,
+the regular features, which wore that expression of national pride which
+distinguishes a Castilian from any other race, and his raven-black hair
+were eminently the Spanish type in all its grace and haughtiness. The
+young man wore the Spanish holiday costume, the richness of which has
+made travellers exclaim, more than once, that no European prince is
+clothed like a simple peasant of Castile. Stephano had on a short vest
+of black cloth, lined with yellow silk, ornamented with fringes and
+bunches of ribbons; an embroidered shirt with open collar revealing a
+waistcoat with gilt buttons, knee-breeches of black silk confined at the
+knees by bunches of ribbons, shoes and gaiters of fine brown leather,
+while a black felt hat with drooping plume completed his costume.
+
+Stephano's gloomy face contrasted with his gay attire. He leant against
+the open window, carelessly holding in his hand a bouquet of faded
+jasmine, whilst he gazed with melancholy eyes upon the festive scene
+before him, and only by a shake of the head and a sad smile replied to
+the light badinage of the dancers as they passed the window. But now and
+then his eyes lighted up, and he sighed deeply as a certain dancer,
+prettier than the rest, approached him.
+
+"How pretty she is!" he murmured, as he followed her retreating form.
+
+"Stephano!" called out the old man, who had been watching his son for
+some time.
+
+"How gracefully she dances," continued the handsome dreamer, wrapt in
+his thoughts.
+
+"Stephano!" repeated the old man.
+
+"Yes, father," cried Stephano, with a start, and coming forward. "Do you
+wish to speak to me?"
+
+"From your mysterious air and endless sighs these last few days,
+Stephano, I conclude that you are in love," said his father.
+
+"In love!" stammered the young man. "You think I am in love?"
+
+"I do not think, my son--I am sure of it; and I have only one reproach
+to make to you, and that is that you have not made me a confidant of
+your secret before."
+
+"You shall know all, father," said Stephano, drawing a chair close to
+Don Pedro.
+
+"For the last month," he continued, "I have had in my heart a love which
+nothing can subdue, and the object of my passion is a young girl here, a
+glance from whose eyes is worth more to me than all the world besides;
+but she shuns my love, and on every occasion strives to avoid me. She
+hardly permits me to speak to her for fear that the passion she reads in
+my eyes will break into words."
+
+"Bah!" said the old man, merrily; "it is very likely that she shuns you
+for the reason of your not opening your mouth; you scare the young girl
+with your morose airs."
+
+"Oh, if that were only true," sighed the disconsolate swain.
+
+"Now," said the old man, "there only remains for me to know the name of
+my future daughter-in-law."
+
+The young man was about to pronounce the name which already trembled on
+his lips when a sudden clamour interrupted the most interesting portion
+of this conversation. The peasants, followed by the partners, were
+rushing towards the house, and in the twinkling of an eye the room was
+filled with the animated and noisy throng. The new-comers wore rich
+costumes, more or less copies of Stephano's; some carried guitars,
+others castanets, while most of them leaned upon tall peeled rods,
+forked at the top, and ornamented with ribbons of all colours; each
+carried on the left side of his vest a bouquet similar to that of
+Stephano. The young girls in their silken bodices, short skirts, red
+stockings and mantillas, rattled their castanets as they entered with
+their partners. The joyous crowd surrounded Don Pedro, whilst cries of
+"Rosita! Rosita!" resounded from all sides.
+
+"Well, well, my children, what is it you want?" demanded the village
+Nestor of his clamorous audience.
+
+"We want Mlle. Rosita," they repeated.
+
+"What, my niece? But is she not with you? I thought it was she whom you
+were leading just now round the corn sheaves."
+
+"That is true," replied one of the foremost of the crowd; "everything
+went smoothly until we wished her to take part in our usual ceremony of
+'The Maiden's Choice.'"
+
+"Did you explain to her," asked the old man, "what is the ceremony?"
+
+"Yes, we told her all that was necessary: that it is an old custom in
+Panola on harvest day, after having escorted the daughter of the house
+round the last sheaves of corn, for all her admirers in the village to
+present her, each in his turn, with a bouquet; that she must then choose
+the one she loves amongst them by retaining his bouquet, whilst the
+others are rejected. She answered us by saying that she had only been in
+Panola a few months, and was therefore not forced to adopt our customs,
+and leaving us with these words she fled from us and escaped through the
+little granary door."
+
+"The little shrew!" Don Pedro exclaimed, who, like an amiable old man,
+was always on the side of the young folk. "But my friends," he added,
+"you are but poor Lotharios to be flouted by a young girl; you must
+follow her and bring her back."
+
+"That is just what we have done; but one cannot catch a bird without
+also having wings. She seemed to fly as we followed her, and on reaching
+the granary she entered and slammed the door in our faces; so we have
+come, as a last resource, to you, Don Pedro, to ask her to comply with
+our wishes."
+
+"You are right," replied the old man, with all the gravity of a judge,
+"you must be satisfied at once"; and he looked round for Don Stephano,
+who was standing more moody than ever behind a giggling group of young
+peasants.
+
+"My son," he said, "go and bring your cousin here. If she refuses, tell
+her that I particularly wish her to come."
+
+"I will go, father," said Stephano, after a second's hesitation; and he
+went out.
+
+There was a slight pause; then shouts and acclamations and rattling of
+castanets burst forth, as Rosita, with downcast eyes, entered the room,
+led by Stephano. Well might they welcome with fervour such a charming
+creature. Rosita was just eighteen. She wore upon her golden brown hair
+a black lace mantilla, which contrasted with her creamy complexion and
+the liquid depth of her large brown eyes. A brown velvet bodice showed
+off to perfection her slight yet rounded figure; and her silk skirts
+just revealed her pretty ankles and small feet in their silk stockings
+and neat shoes.
+
+Rosita was a native of Navarre. She had quitted Tafalla, her native
+village, on the death of her father and mother, who had been victims of
+the Civil War which at this time desolated the country, and had been
+conducted not without peril to her uncle's house at Panola, in which she
+had since taken up her abode.
+
+"Rosita," said Don Pedro to his niece, taking her hand, "I have made
+your apologies to your friends for the trick you have played them. It is
+your turn now to atone for your misdeed, by submitting to an old custom.
+Among the brave Castilians who surround you there are many suitors for
+your hand. There must be one among them whom you secretly favour. Your
+choice is entirely free, and even the favoured one after the ceremony
+will then have only the right to please you and to merit your hand."
+
+"But, uncle----" faltered the young girl.
+
+"I will take no denial, my dear," interrupted the old man.
+
+Rosita strove in vain to protest, but her imperturbable uncle would not
+listen, and gave a sign to the peasants to begin the ceremony, in which
+he seemed to take as keen an interest as they did themselves. Thereupon
+the majority of the young men, darting furious glances of jealousy at
+one another, prepared for the contest. Rosita, at her uncle's side,
+stood at one end of the room. At her right and left were grouped the
+young peasant girls, admiring without envy the queen of the _fete_, and
+forming her court. Stephano stood behind with dejected mien. Those with
+guitars touched their instruments lightly now and then, and upon this
+scene, worthy of the pencil of Leopold Roberts, the sun, now setting at
+the horizon, cast a calm and solemn light.
+
+The first peasant who came forward was a tall young man, with a ruddy
+complexion.
+
+"My name is Geronimo Caldaroz, and I am twenty-five. It has been the
+talk of the village why I did not marry, and it has been said it was
+because I had never yet seen a maiden beautiful enough to please me. But
+now I have found her; it is you, Rosita. Will you accept my bouquet?" He
+presented his bouquet to the young girl, who blushed as she received it,
+and then let it fall.
+
+"Refused! Refused!" whispered the spectators, whilst the young man
+disappeared into the crowd, and a second one took his place. But the
+same thing occurred, and with the same result. Soon the jasmine bouquets
+covered the ground round the young girl's feet. The rejected suitors
+multiplied so fast that they could no longer hide their discomfiture
+amongst the others. Restless and smiling, Don Pedro wondered why his
+niece was so severe, and the remaining suitors seemed to hesitate
+whether to advance into the lists or not. Then the last three timidly
+advanced one by one toward Rosita. The two first were not even heard to
+the end of their speech, and then all eyes were fixed with interest upon
+the last. Rosita let him finish his discourse, took his bouquet, which
+she scrutinized demurely, and then uttering a deep sigh let it fall upon
+the amorous trophy piled at her feet.
+
+A murmur rose amongst the stupefied villagers. Don Pedro approached his
+niece.
+
+"Well, my child," he said, "have you thought of what you have done?"
+
+"Yes, uncle," Rosita replied. "Did you not tell me yourself that I was
+perfectly free?"
+
+"Free to choose, without doubt; but not to send all your suitors away."
+
+Rosita cast down her eyes and made no reply.
+
+"Pardon me, father, but there still remains one," said Stephano,
+breaking the silence.
+
+"Where is he?" everyone asked at once.
+
+"Here he is."
+
+Rosita trembled so violently that she was compelled to lean for support
+upon her uncle's arm, and Don Pedro, more astonished than anyone, rushed
+towards his son.
+
+"What, Stephano?" he said joyfully. "It is your cousin whom----"
+
+"Yes, father," replied the young man. "It is she whom I love."
+
+In the midst of such general interest Stephano, pale with emotion,
+advanced towards his cousin.
+
+"Rosita, I love you," he said, simply. "Will you keep this bouquet which
+I offer to you?"
+
+The young man pronounced these words with a voice so sweet and
+expressive, and the gesture with which he offered the symbolic flower
+was so imploring and passionate, that a sympathetic thrill ran through
+the spectators, and tears bedimmed Don Pedro's eyes.
+
+[Illustration: "'ROSITA, I LOVE YOU,' HE SAID."]
+
+Rosita, not less pale than her cousin, took the bouquet with a trembling
+hand, gazed upon it tenderly, then made a movement as if to throw it
+down, paused, and then at last, with head turned aside, let it fall.
+
+"Santa Maria! He also!" cried the crowd, mournfully.
+
+"Do not condemn me without hearing my justification," cried Rosita,
+turning to Don Pedro.
+
+"Your justification?" repeated Stephano, with relief.
+
+"Uncle," she said, after a pause, "there is a secret which I may have
+been wrong in concealing from you hitherto, but I must confide it to you
+alone."
+
+"To me!" cried the astonished old man.
+
+"I will come with you at once," and, seizing Rosita's hand, he led her
+away, making signs to the peasants as he did so to disperse.
+
+Stephano strolled out to breathe the air upon the hills, whose shadows
+were beginning to slope down into the valley. The sky was lighted only
+by the afterglow of the red, sunken sun; the evening breeze carried
+along in the warm air the perfume of the jasmine flowers and orange
+groves in bloom, and no sound was heard but the music of guitars and
+castanets, mingled sometimes with the faint tinkle of sheep bells.
+
+When Stephano re-entered he found his father and cousin in the lower
+hall. Rosita, on perceiving him, made a pretext for rising, and
+hurriedly left the room. Don Pedro and his son were left alone.
+
+"One word, father," said Stephano. "Does Rosita love me, and will she
+also become my wife?"
+
+"You must forget Rosita," replied the old man. "You must tear from your
+heart even the remembrance of your love."
+
+The young man abandoned himself to despair.
+
+"I shall never forget her," he said, passionately. "My love for Rosita
+will only cease with my life."
+
+And he rushed from the room, leaving the old man wondering.
+
+
+II.
+
+For some weeks the inmates of Don Pedro's house were forced to remain
+prisoners, for rebel soldiers filled the neighbouring villages, and
+troops of guerillas were being mustered to put them to flight. It was a
+morning, early in September, just after the sun had peered above the
+horizon. A fine rain had fallen during the night, and the drops which
+rested on the foliage sparkled like myriads of diamonds. The streets
+were as yet deserted; some muleteers alone passed along them at
+intervals. Don Pedro's house was the only one astir.
+
+Don Stephano, according to his custom, had risen with the dawn, and was
+now alone in the lower hall, standing opposite the window which
+overlooked the high road. He was occupied in fixing an iron lance upon a
+wooden rod, at which he gazed abstractedly.
+
+The sound of a voice filling the air with song attracted his attention;
+it was singing the Moorish romance of "Adlemar and Adalifa," and to the
+quick perception of a Spanish ear was marked with a slight Ultramontaine
+accent, which Stephano discerned like a true Castilian. Without moving
+he listened to the song which awoke the echoes of the valley. The
+amorous words recalled to Stephano's mind the thought of Rosita, and he
+sighed deeply. Then he listened anew to the voice, which grew nearer and
+nearer, and in which, in spite of its strange accent, he seemed to hear
+an understrain of singular emotion. His conjectures were not long,
+however. A man enveloped in a large mantle peered in at the open window,
+and after throwing a rapid glance behind him leapt into the room.
+Stephano recoiled at the sight of such a strange visitor, and felt
+tempted to seize the man, whom he took at first for a robber. Then a
+troop of horsemen dashed past the house. The stranger gave a sigh of
+relief. Then for the first time he caught sight of Stephano.
+
+"I must be careful," the soldier muttered, as he drew his cloak more
+carefully round him. "This Spaniard does not look over benevolent."
+
+"Who can this man be?" thought Stephano, as he instinctively put his
+hand on his pistols; but on seeing the stranger advance towards him with
+a pleasant smile, he paused.
+
+"Noble Castilian," said the stranger, "are you a man to oblige an enemy
+in peril, and who for a quarter of an hour wishes you no more harm than
+if you were his brother?"
+
+Before replying, Stephano scrutinized his questioner. He saw before him
+a man of about twenty-eight, with a frank face and light hair and
+moustache. His accent, and the blue pantaloons which appeared under the
+brown mantle, proclaimed him a Frenchman.
+
+[Illustration: "THE STRANGER."]
+
+"No unarmed man is my enemy," replied Stephano, "and from the moment my
+roof was over your head you became my guest."
+
+"Shake hands on it! You are a fine fellow," cried the soldier, holding
+out his hand. At the same time he drew aside his mantle, and Stephano
+recognised the uniform worn by the French volunteers of Don Carlos's
+army. "Now, if you have a drop of anything to drink handy, I will tell
+you in a few words what has brought me here."
+
+Stephano opened the sideboard, and brought out a bottle and glasses. The
+soldier wiped his moustache as he began.
+
+"You see before you," he said, with frank abruptness, "Charles
+Dulaurier, a soldier by birth and profession, lieutenant in the
+Grenadiers of His Majesty Charles V.--pardon me, Don Carlos. Being
+stationed some few miles from here, I asked for leave of absence this
+morning to join some troops which (pardon me) are going to make a raid
+upon this very village this morning. But, thanks to my foolhardiness in
+starting off alone, I soon found myself in the hands of guerillas. I
+escaped. They pursued me. But I, though alone in a strange country and
+unarmed, led them a nice dance for half an hour. I was just about to
+fall again into their hands when I came in sight of this house. I duped
+them by my ruse of pitching my voice in such a manner as to lead them to
+think I was beyond the village, whilst I at the same time took refuge
+here. To conclude, my worthy fellow, no doubt the guerillas are not
+blind, and not finding any trace of me upon the route, will return to
+Panola. Consequently, if you are a host to my liking you will----"
+
+"Conceal you," said Stephano, quickly. "You are right!" and he glanced
+round with uneasiness. The lieutenant struck him on the shoulder. "One
+minute," he said; "the guerillas cannot reappear for half an hour. This
+little expedition, as you may imagine, was not my only motive for coming
+to Panola, and I must again abuse your patience in asking you some
+questions upon a certain subject which is the motive of my expedition."
+
+"Go on," replied Stephano, with resignation.
+
+"I came here to look for a young girl," said the Frenchman, twisting his
+moustache, "and as, perhaps, you will be so good as to give me some
+information on this point, it would be better for you to know the story.
+Last year my regiment, after a vigorous resistance, entered a village in
+Navarre."
+
+"A village in Navarre?" repeated Stephano, and his brow darkened.
+
+"One house had been so well defended, indeed, that it was found
+necessary to surround it, and our infuriated soldiers, drunk with
+carnage, determined to massacre everyone within. I luckily surprised
+them as they drew their sabres upon two poor old creatures and their
+young daughter. I threw myself between the victims and their butchers;
+the wretches turned upon me and I fell wounded by a bayonet thrust, but
+they were saved. The kind people who owed me their lives bore me to
+their house, and gave me every care. The young girl watched at my
+bedside for more than a fortnight. Briefly the beauty, the tenderness of
+the little girl, won my heart. Losing no time, I declared my passion.
+She whispered, blushing, that I might speak to her parents. As soon as I
+was well enough to walk, I hastened to the worthy old man, who, after
+the shock he had received, became mortally ill, and felt his end
+approach. I had no sooner asked him for his daughter's hand than he
+exclaimed, 'God be praised! I shall not now die without having
+recompensed our deliverer.' At the same time he took the young girl's
+hand and mine, and, after making us exchange rings, clasped them
+together. Then he stretched forth his trembling hands above our heads to
+bless us, whilst on our knees by the bedside we swore eternal fidelity
+to each other. Three days after the good man died, and the same day my
+regiment left for Castile. Seven months passed without my hearing any
+news from my betrothed, and it was only by chance I learned that on her
+mother's death she had quitted Navarre to take up her abode in her
+uncle's house at Panola.
+
+"But what is the matter?" said the lieutenant, as Stephano rose
+hurriedly.
+
+"I know enough," replied the young man in a hollow voice. "The village
+was Tafalla, and the young girl's name is Rosita."
+
+"But what is there in that?" cried the lieutenant, who understood
+nothing of Stephano's emotion. "You know Rosita? She is here? You are
+silent. Heavens! Is she dead--or married?"
+
+"No, no," replied Stephano, with an effort. "Rosita is here. No doubt
+she loves you and watches for your return with impatience."
+
+"Where, then, shall I find my betrothed?"
+
+Stephano was about to reply to this question when the tramp of horses
+was heard. It was the troop returning.
+
+"Softly!" whispered Dulaurier as he crept towards the window. "Yes,
+these are my friends. Where will you hide me?"
+
+Stephano regarded him with a savage gleam in his eyes and muttered to
+himself, "This man comes here to blast my happiness, and I must protect
+his life at the peril of my own."
+
+"What am I to do?" repeated Dulaurier.
+
+"Take this dagger," said Stephano, "put on your mantle and follow me."
+He unfastened a little door which opened upon a staircase which led into
+the garden, and descended, followed by Dulaurier. They stole along
+behind a thick hedge of hawthorn until they came to the trees of a
+little orchard, from which rose the roof of a ruined summer-house. On
+reaching this spot Stephano installed the lieutenant so that he could
+watch both the road and the garden; then having arranged upon the course
+they should take, Stephano hastened back to the house.
+
+[Illustration: "THEY STOLE ALONG."]
+
+Don Pedro was in the lower hall, alone, when his son entered.
+
+"I have a request to make to you," said the young man, clasping his
+father's hand convulsively. "I want you to let me start at once to join
+my brothers and to fight for Spain."
+
+"Can you then leave your cousin?" said Don Pedro, sadly. "And you do not
+know----"
+
+"I know more than you, father, more than Rosita herself about this
+affair," interrupted Stephano. "Is not Rosita betrothed to a French
+volunteer in Don Carlos's army, and is this not the secret she confided
+to you on harvest day?"
+
+"It is true. But how have you discovered it?"
+
+"From a man flying from the pursuit of guerillas; no other than the man
+himself, Lieutenant Charles Dulaurier!"
+
+"Is it possible?" exclaimed the stupefied old man.
+
+"You see, father, that it is absolutely necessary for me to go," cried
+Stephano. "I cannot wait until Rosita and Dulaurier are united. Their
+happiness would be more than I could bear, and I have thought of a plan
+by which the lieutenant can be saved without putting off my departure. I
+shall join the troop of guerillas who are seeking Dulaurier in the
+village. Seeing me become one of themselves their suspicions will be
+lulled, and I shall save my rival by departing with his enemies."
+
+"You are right," replied his father, after a painful pause, but he could
+not utter a word more.
+
+The young man proceeded to take down from the wall his pistols and his
+gun; he placed the former in his belt and the latter on his shoulder,
+took his hat and stepped forward to bid his father farewell. But as he
+threw himself into the arms of the weeping old man, the door opened and
+Rosita entered.
+
+The young girl glanced quickly from one to the other, and then her eyes
+remained fixed on Stephano.
+
+"What are you going to do?" she asked, examining his equipment.
+
+"I am going away," replied Stephano. "Farewell, Rosita, be happy.
+Farewell, father," he added, embracing Don Pedro.
+
+"He is going," said Rosita, her eyes dim with tears, "without one
+friendly smile, without one clasp of his hand. Oh! Stephano," she
+exclaimed, springing forward. "You cannot part from me thus!"
+
+"You are keeping me!" said the bewildered young man.
+
+"Yes," she replied, seizing his hand. "Stay, Stephano, do not go. I
+implore you!"
+
+"Remain!" cried the young man, passionately. "Remain to see you in the
+arms of another? Never!"
+
+As he moved towards the door, Rosita sprang towards him with
+outstretched arms. "And what if it is you whom I love, Stephano? What if
+I have never loved anyone but you?" A thunderbolt would hardly have
+produced more effect than did these words.
+
+"You love me?" he repeated, approaching his cousin. "Rosita, for mercy's
+sake, repeat those words once more, so that I may be sure of having
+heard aright."
+
+"Yes, I love you," repeated the young girl, tenderly; "no one but you!
+Will you stay now?"
+
+"For ever, if you wish it!" cried the enraptured youth, throwing down
+his gun and pistols. "Look at me, Rosita, that I may read in your eyes
+that word which gives me life, and which I have waited for so long. How
+blind and foolish I have been! But that will be all right now, will it
+not, my beloved?" As he spoke he embraced her passionately. By both of
+them the world was forgotten.
+
+Through the open window came the clink of spurs and rattling of sabres.
+This sound, to which Stephano and Rosita were deaf, struck on the ear of
+Don Pedro and paralyzed him with terror.
+
+"Stephano!" he cried at last. "Remember Lieutenant Dulaurier!"
+
+[Illustration: "REMEMBER LIEUTENANT DULAURIER!"]
+
+"Ah!" groaned Stephano, rudely torn from his ecstasy of happiness; and
+he fixed his gaze upon his cousin.
+
+The girl had not even heard Don Pedro.
+
+"Rosita," said her lover, "you say you love me, but you have a
+_fiance!_"
+
+"Dulaurier!" cried the startled girl. "Great Heaven! pardon me, I had
+forgotten."
+
+"If this man," continued Stephano, "came here to claim your promise, you
+would reply, would you not, that friendship alone, not love, had drawn
+you towards him, and that your hand, promised when you hardly knew what
+you did, would now be given without your heart?"
+
+"Yes, that is what I should answer; but he is not likely to come here,
+Stephano."
+
+"And what if he were here already?" asked an impressive voice.
+
+Don Pedro at the same time stepped forward between the young people, and
+before the severe face of the Spaniard their eyes drooped.
+
+"Father!" faltered the young man.
+
+"Silence!" cried the old man. "Your duty is clear. What if Dulaurier
+were in the house, Rosita--what if, more faithful than you, he had come
+to claim his promise, made at the death-bed of your father? I ask you
+what you would answer."
+
+Trembling and submissive as a criminal before his judge, the young girl
+turned her eyes from Stephano to Don Pedro.
+
+"I should reply to Lieutenant Dulaurier that, before God and man, I am
+his betrothed bride, and that while he lives no other can be my
+husband."
+
+"Come then, my child, prepare to receive your _fiance_," and Don Pedro
+held out his hand to his niece to lead her away.
+
+"You are destroying my happiness!" cried Stephano.
+
+"But in return I give you back your honour," replied Don Pedro. "Look
+after the lieutenant, for here come the guerillas!" and he went out.
+
+"What a dream, and what an awakening!" murmured Stephano as he was left
+alone. "Rosita vows she loves me, and at the same time declares she will
+never be mine while Dulaurier lives. _While he lives!_ And I must take
+upon myself the peril of saving him, when I have only to let him----Oh,
+how despair tempts us to horrible deeds! Is there time to fly, to quit
+this spot where each thought is torture: to hasten and join the
+guerillas before they enter the house? For, alas! if they enter now and
+demand where their enemy is--by Heaven! I shall not have the strength to
+resist--I must fly!"
+
+Picking up his gun and pistols he rushed towards the door, but recoiled
+at the sight of a man in the uniform of a captain of guerillas, who by a
+gesture forced him to pause.
+
+[Illustration: "IT IS TOO LATE!"]
+
+"Malediction--it is too late!" murmured the young man, as he dropped
+upon a chair, and let his unheeded weapons fall to the ground.
+
+"Two sentinels before each door and window," called out the captain to
+the soldiers who followed him. "This is the last house in which our
+prisoner could take refuge," he continued, striking impatiently the butt
+end of his rifle upon the ground. "Search well, comrades; you know he
+who takes the Frenchman prisoner is to have the honour of firing the
+first shot upon him, and is also to receive twenty douros for reward."
+Thereupon he advanced into the room. "Well, my good fellow," he said to
+Stephano; "what are you going to do with these weapons? Are they to
+defend yourself or to protect the officer whom you have hidden here?"
+
+"No one is hidden in this house," replied the young man, with the
+courage which peril bestows. "The La Sargas are known throughout the
+country to be devoted to Spain and the Queen. I have three brothers in
+the national army, and I have just picked up these weapons with the
+intention of joining your troops."
+
+The captain looked at him with a sneering smile. Then he turned to his
+companions, who had just returned from searching the house.
+
+"Well, have you found anything?"
+
+"Only a young girl and an old man," was the reply.
+
+"Bring the old man here," said the captain; then he turned to Stephano.
+"And you, sir, go with my lieutenant and these three men, and show them
+every room there is"; then he murmured in the lieutenant's ear,
+slipping at the same time a purse of gold into his hand: "Spare neither
+threats nor persuasion to gain this young man over to our side. Whatever
+it costs, I must recapture our prisoner."
+
+Stephano felt tempted to resist these orders, but he reflected that this
+would only draw suspicion upon him, and he led the way up the stairs,
+which were placed in a corner of the room.
+
+At the same time Don Pedro entered, guarded by two soldiers and leaning
+on his staff. Then an interval ensued, and the minutes flew past.
+Suddenly a pistol shot was heard. Everyone gave a start of alarm. Then
+one of the guards who had gone out with Stephano came rushing down the
+stairs and into the room.
+
+"The bird is snared, or will be in a few minutes," he cried. "Our
+prisoner," he continued, pointing through the window, "is in that
+building which you see at the bottom of the garden."
+
+"How do you know this?" asked the captain.
+
+"From the young man who is upstairs with the lieutenant."
+
+"From Stephano!" cried the old man, growing pale with horror.
+
+"Ah, ah!" laughed the captain, "your son does not seem very hard to
+persuade."
+
+"The lieutenant having discovered nothing," the man went on, "told three
+of us to go and search the granary, and took advantage of the occasion
+to take the young man aside. I watched them. A purse of gold and the
+barrel of a pistol have been the principal inducements. The sly fellow
+at first was very obstinate, and it was then that the lieutenant fired
+the pistol at him to frighten him. The young man seemed to be moved in a
+singular manner by the shot. He gave way with good grace, and pointed
+the pavilion out to us."
+
+Whilst the captain lent a joyful ear to this narrative, Don Pedro, on
+the contrary, listened with terror mingled with incredulity. At these
+last words he could contain himself no longer, and broke in violently:--
+
+"Enough, wretch; enough!" he cried. "What you say is impossible! It is
+an infamous calumny! My son is quite incapable of such villainy!"
+
+"Look, senor," replied the man, pointing to the stairs.
+
+Stephano in truth was descending with the lieutenant, holding the purse
+in his hand. His pale and agitated face seemed to proclaim his guilt,
+and Don Pedro sank back fainting on a seat. Stephano crossed the room
+with a faltering step without observing his father, and, reaching the
+window, gazed out upon the road.
+
+In recalling to mind his son's jealousy of Dulaurier, Don Pedro
+understood the facts of the matter--that he had sold his guest to get
+rid of a detested rival. Maddened by passion, he had without doubt lost
+all control over himself. After having exchanged some words in a low
+voice with his lieutenant, the captain made a sign to two of his men.
+
+"Remain with this fellow," he said, in a tone of contempt, pointing to
+Stephano, "until we reach the pavilion; if he makes one movement shoot
+him, and when a volley announces to you that we are not deceived, join
+us to start upon our route."
+
+"Very good, captain," answered the two soldiers, taking up their
+position on each side of Stephano, whilst the others went out softly.
+
+A mournful silence reigned in the chamber.
+
+Stephano stood erect before the window, with haggard eyes fixed upon the
+road; Don Pedro, mute and motionless in his chair, seemed like a man
+bereft of all at a single blow. Then, his misery overwhelming him, he
+covered his face with his hands and wept. Stephano turned round quickly,
+and for the first time saw his father.
+
+"Great Heavens! He was there, and heard all!" he murmured. "Father!" he
+cried imploringly.
+
+"Call me your father no more," cried the old man, with flaming eyes,
+"unless you can tell me that I am blind and deaf, or that I have dreamed
+that my son was a coward, a traitor, an assassin! Tell me so, Stephano,
+for pity's sake!"
+
+The young man made an effort as if he were about to speak, but paused at
+the sight of his two guards; the strain was so painful that he was
+forced to lean for support on one of the guerilla's arms. Then he turned
+away; Don Pedro rose from his seat and came towards his son.
+
+"His eye never quits this fatal window," he murmured to himself. "It
+looks as if he watched to see the success of his perfidy, that he wishes
+to assure himself that his rival does not escape. Wretch!" he burst
+forth, "if this is so, may you be----"
+
+Suddenly a hand was laid softly upon the old man's arm. It was Rosita.
+
+"Ah! it is you, Rosita!" said Don Pedro with a bewildered stare.
+"Wretched man that I am, what was I about to do?" he added, passing his
+hand over his forehead.
+
+Rosita came farther forward into the room.
+
+"Stephano guarded by two soldiers!" she cried. "Holy Virgin! what does
+this mean, and what has happened?"
+
+And she made an instinctive movement towards her cousin. Her uncle
+stopped her.
+
+"Keep away from this wretched man!" he cried, "for he is a coward and a
+traitor; he has betrayed your betrothed!"
+
+"Betrayed my betrothed!" cried the girl, with horror. "It is
+impossible!"
+
+"Not only has he betrayed him," continued the old man, taking his
+niece's hand, "but he is watching for the success of his treason. Do you
+recognise my son, Rosita?" he added, with heartrending despair, "or the
+man whom you loved?"
+
+Here the poor old man broke down completely, and sank back into his
+chair. The girl gazed at him with consternation. Even the rough soldiers
+were touched by the scene, and turned their heads aside.
+
+[Illustration: "THE POOR OLD MAN BROKE DOWN COMPLETELY."]
+
+At that instant a loud report shook the walls. It was the captain's
+volley. The two soldiers exchanged a meaning glance and disappeared. As
+soon as they went out Rosita threw herself in Don Pedro's arms.
+
+"Dulaurier is dead!" said the old man, gloomily.
+
+"He is saved!" cried Stephano, coming forward, and throwing from him as
+he did so the purse of gold. "Yes, father, yes, Rosita, the lieutenant
+is safe and sound, and will be with us in a few seconds."
+
+"How can that be?" cried Don Pedro, passing from despair to joy.
+
+"Before leaving Dulaurier in the pavilion we had arranged that he was to
+be informed by a pistol shot when he must leave his hiding-place for the
+granary whilst his enemies were searching the pavilion. You understand
+now how the guerilla's shot agitated me. For, of course, Dulaurier,
+taking the report for the signal agreed upon, would leave the pavilion
+for the granary, and would then fall into the hands of his pursuers. The
+only plan to save him was to get the soldiers away from the granary,
+which I did by feigning to betray Dulaurier, by accepting the purse, and
+pointing out the pavilion as his hiding-place. For a quarter of an hour
+I have endured the tortures of hell, but I have saved the man who
+confided in me, and I am still worthy of you both!"
+
+The young man had hardly finished his narrative when his father and
+Rosita were at his feet begging for forgiveness. Then Stephano hastened
+to the granary, and called the lieutenant's name, but there was no
+response, and soon Stephano's surprise was changed to uneasiness. He
+rushed into the granary. It was empty. Stephano reappeared, pale,
+tottering and breathless.
+
+"Dulaurier is not in the granary," he cried. "He cannot have taken the
+pistol shot for my signal. He must have remained, and that report we
+heard was his death-shot."
+
+He paused abruptly. Don Pedro and Rosita understood, and burst forth
+into an exclamation of horror.
+
+"Victory! Victory!" cried a hundred voices.
+
+Their despair and consternation were changed to the most lively
+astonishment, when a detachment of Don Carlos's volunteers entered the
+house, led by Dulaurier himself.
+
+"Dulaurier!" exclaimed Stephano, Don Pedro, and Rosita at the same time.
+
+"Our enemies!" said the old Castilian, whilst his niece shrank behind
+him.
+
+"Say rather friends," replied Dulaurier, pressing Stephano's hand
+warmly.
+
+"But how has all this happened?" began the bewildered Stephano.
+
+"One minute's attention. For half an hour I waited patiently after your
+departure in the little pavilion, when I heard the signal we arranged on
+of the pistol shot. I quitted my hiding-place at once, and was preparing
+to creep towards the granary, when, casting a glance upon the road, I
+recognised the uniforms of the volunteers of my regiment. Briefly,"
+continued Dulaurier, showing the soldiers who surrounded him, "here are
+the gentlemen, whom I have the honour of presenting to you. Like good
+comrades, they determined to avenge me, and we caught the guerillas in
+an ambush as they were searching the pavilion. Bang! a general
+discharge, and thirty men were lying on the ground, and the rest running
+away for their lives."
+
+"The volley of which we believed you the victim!" interrupted Stephano.
+
+"You understand the rest. Not wishing to quit Panola without thanking
+you, and also wishing to see about that little matter which I mentioned
+to you this morning, we came on here. And now," he added to Stephano,
+with the air of a man who has no time to lose, "I must thank you most
+warmly for all you have done for me."
+
+There was such a tone of kindness in these words that Stephano could do
+nothing but grasp his hand cordially in return.
+
+"Anyone else?" cried the effusive officer, looking quickly round. "You
+have a father, a mother, a wife, perhaps? Where are they? This noble old
+man must be your father," and upon Stephano's making an affirmative sign
+he grasped the old man's hand, and wrung it with force.
+
+"Are there no ladies in your family?" asked Dulaurier with a gallant
+air.
+
+It was then that in spite of Rosita's efforts to avoid his attention he
+caught sight of her as she hid behind Don Pedro's high-backed chair.
+
+"Ah! here is one!" he said, without recognising his betrothed. He
+stepped forward towards her.
+
+"Most amiable senora," he began politely, "permit me----" He paused,
+gazing with stupefied eyes upon the young girl, and then made a sign to
+his soldiers to leave them.
+
+"Good Heavens!" he exclaimed, "if I am not deceived it is Rosita, my
+pretty _fiancee_!"
+
+"You are right; it is I, Monsieur Dulaurier," faltered the young girl.
+
+The light of happiness vanished from all the faces in the room except
+the lieutenant's.
+
+"You can easily understand, my pretty one, what has led me to Panola,"
+said Dulaurier.
+
+"I presume you have come to remind Rosita," answered Don Pedro, "of the
+promise that she gave you at her dying father's bedside. She has not
+forgotten it, senor. She recognises her duty, and you have only one word
+to say----"
+
+"Will you answer me yourself, Rosita?" interrupted Dulaurier, marking
+her extreme pallor and agitation. "You know what I have the right of
+claiming; are you still able to give it me freely?"
+
+"Without doubt," she murmured; "if I give you my hand, my heart will go
+with it."
+
+"Words, nothing but words!" thought the lieutenant, who grew pale in his
+turn. "All women are weathercocks. It is clear I am superseded," and he
+bit his lip until it bled. "But I should like to know who is my
+substitute," and he turned mechanically to Stephano. He found him as
+mute and as troubled as Rosita. The truth flashed across him. "I cannot
+blame the brave young man," he murmured to himself, "for falling in love
+with his cousin. It has not prevented him from saving my life at the
+expense of his love and honour, and as I have no wish for a heart not
+wholly mine, I have now to render sacrifice for sacrifice, and to keep
+the reputation of France equal to that of Spain." He turned to Rosita
+with a smile.
+
+"Mademoiselle," he began, "when we plighted our troth, and I told you
+that I loved you devotedly, I was as sincere as I am to-day, only I took
+upon myself too much, and have contracted several other engagements,
+more or less similar to yours." He gave a forced laugh as he pronounced
+these words.
+
+"That is enough, senor," said Don Pedro. "But why have you then come to
+Panola to claim her promise?"
+
+"Who said that I was here for that purpose?" asked Dulaurier, abruptly.
+Stephano, indeed, recollected that the Frenchman had not said a single
+word which implied that he came to claim Rosita's hand. "I implore
+Mademoiselle Rosita to pardon me," pursued Dulaurier, "and I propose
+that we exchange rings again."
+
+[Illustration: "I PROPOSE THAT WE EXCHANGE RINGS AGAIN."]
+
+It was no sooner said than done. Dulaurier turned and clasped Stephano's
+hand again, and now the young man saw with apprehension that Dulaurier's
+eyes were dim with tears. Dulaurier could keep up the farce no longer,
+and his heart was breaking behind the smile upon his lips.
+
+"Dulaurier!" said the young man, "you weep: you are unhappy! What you
+have said has been only a sublime falsehood! You love Rosita--you wish
+to marry her--and if you have the generosity to renounce all for me, it
+must not be at the expense of your happiness."
+
+"Hush!" said Dulaurier, as he took him aside. "Do not undo my work. But
+since you have found it out, you are right. I did come back to claim
+Rosita. I have always loved her, and have loved none but her. But do not
+breathe a word of this. Let no thought of my unhappiness cast a shadow
+on her life. Sacrifice for sacrifice, young man. France is equal to
+Spain, and we are quits.
+
+"Farewell, brave Castilians," he cried aloud, "celebrate the marriage
+merrily: and let us hope that we shall never meet upon the battlefield
+of this unhappy country."
+
+"Farewell!" replied Stephano, huskily.
+
+Dulaurier pressed Don Pedro's and Stephano's hands, kissed that of
+Rosita, and joined his comrades outside.
+
+"Wheel to the right--forward!" he shouted, at the head of his battalion.
+
+Then came the roll of the drum, and they all marched past the window.
+
+"Rosita," said Stephano to his cousin, "you are free, and we are going
+to be happy; but never let us forget Lieutenant Dulaurier!"
+
+
+
+
+_The Queer Side of Things._
+
+
+The N. P. M. C
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Let us return for a space to the two spirits William and James, whose
+conversations we described in past numbers. Some readers may possibly
+recall how the spirit James, while wandering through the darkness of
+unoccupied Space (about five-and-twenty billions of eons before the
+commencement of Eternity), conceived a wild idea of the possibility of
+the existence of worlds--worlds occupied by an impracticability called
+"man." It will be recollected how the wiser spirit William cast
+well-merited ridicule upon this insanely impossible phantasy of a
+disordered mind; nay, even condescended to crush, by perspicuous and
+irrefutable logic, the grotesque and preposterous idea.
+
+Very well; it is now William's turn.
+
+"James," he said one day as they chanced to sight each other in the
+awful solitude of Space, "I have been thinking over that world of yours,
+and your crowning absurdity, 'man.' Pray do not become too inflated with
+weak conceit at my condescending to think about such trivialities; for
+the fact is, any subject of thought--however hopelessly foolish--is a
+relief amid the tediousness of Space. Well, I have been reflecting upon
+that characteristic which you conceive as distinguishing your puppet
+'man'--I allude to _intelligence_. I think you suggested that he would
+possess intelligence?"
+
+James only fidgeted uneasily, and made a feeble sign of affirmation.
+
+"Very well," continued William. "Now, I have been putting two and two
+together, and have found out the nature of that quality which you
+mistake for intelligence; its true name is 'low cunning.' Every fresh
+piece of absurdity which you have told me touching the tricks of your
+queer creatures has supplied new evidence of this. Your creatures were
+to feed upon the substance of the 'world' on which they lived, and, ever
+increasing in numbers, would logically in course of time find there was
+not a mouthful apiece. I think we agreed about that? Well, let us
+consider that period, some time before the creatures should actually
+become exterminated by the natural evolution of events--the time when
+all the eatable products of their world would be growing scarce. You
+went so far as to imagine a great many products----"
+
+"Yes!" said James, gazing afar off in the absorption of his imagination.
+"Yes--there were eggs, and oysters, and poultry, and mushrooms, and----"
+
+"Ah!--the very things I've been reflecting about. Well, I've been
+dreaming that, at the period of which I speak, when all the commodities
+were becoming scarce, your human beings would agree to make poisonous
+artificial articles of consumption with which to poison themselves by
+degrees, and thus reduce the population to convenient limits."
+
+"No!" cried James, pondering deeply. "Their idea would be to poison not
+_themselves_, but _each other_!"
+
+[Illustration: "POISON."]
+
+"Ah! I see. Then they would make some sort of effort to prevent
+themselves being poisoned?"
+
+"Oh, yes; they would pass Adulteration Acts for the purpose."
+
+"I see; and any creature who did not wish to be poisoned could take
+advantage of these Acts to protect himself?"
+
+"Certainly. The Acts would be very stringent. Let us suppose, for
+example, that a certain man suspected that the butter supplied to him
+was not butter at all, but a deleterious compound--well, all he would
+have to do would be to go to the shop, accompanied by a guardian of the
+peace, and, standing on one leg, with both hands on the counter and one
+eye shut, order a pound of the butter in certain words prescribed by the
+Act. He would then say to the tradesman, 'I am about to divide this
+pound of butter into three equal portions for the purposes of analysis';
+and, taking the butter-man's knife in his left hand, and passing it to
+his right, would cut the butter into three portions exactly equal.
+
+"After this, hermetically sealing the three portions in three jars
+provided for the purpose, he would hand one jar to the tradesman, the
+second to the guardian of the peace, and retain the third. Then he would
+bring an action; and (provided that all the conditions had been
+accurately fulfilled, without the slightest flaw) the erring tradesman
+would be told by the Court not to do it again; while the complainant
+would have to pay all costs, and possibly a fine; and would be sneered
+at by the magistrate as a fussy idiot and a common informer.
+
+"If, on the other hand, the complainant should omit to secure the
+company of a custodian of the peace, or fail to stand on one leg with
+both hands on the counter, or take the knife in his right hand first, or
+should leave out the prescribed words, or blink his eye, or stammer, or
+sneeze, or in any other way fail to observe the regulations of the Act;
+he would, of course, have no case or remedy. The Adulteration Acts would
+be extremely stringent----"
+
+"Against the victim of adulteration?"
+
+"Ye--es," murmured James, a little nonplussed.
+
+[Illustration: "THE SHOP."]
+
+"Ah--well, then, I think we can afford to ignore these Adulteration
+Acts--like the adulterators and the public authorities would--and
+proceed with the question of the adulteration. I had a most vivid vision
+or dream of the details of this adulteration as they would be carried
+out on your world at the period we are now considering. I imagined that
+I was actually in a part of your world called 'America,' and that one of
+your human beings politely invited me to walk through his factory and
+see how things were made. I think you mentioned 'oysters'----"
+
+[Illustration: "NO CASE."]
+
+"Yes," said James, "that's one name the article of food would possess;
+newspaper writers, however, would not recognise them by that name--they
+would only know them as 'the succulent bivalve.'"
+
+"The very idea!" exclaimed William. "That's exactly what I seemed to
+have become--a newspaper writer. I fancied I went to see the factory,
+and then sent in the following account:--
+
+"One of the most interesting factories in America is the stately
+building of the Ephraim Q. Knickerbocker Natural Products Manufacturing
+Corporation, of Spread Eagle Springs, N.J. That the structure is itself
+an imposing one may well be imagined in view of the vast productive
+energy expended within its walls; and the feebleness and inefficiency of
+the productive operations of Nature are never so fully realized as after
+a visit to this marvellous factory, and a comparison of the two systems.
+
+"It was, therefore, with no little satisfaction that we lately received
+a courteous invitation from the able and energetic managing director
+General Sardanapalus J. Van Biene to inspect the operations of the
+Corporation at its factory. Accordingly, we proceeded to the New York
+terminus of the Natural Products Manufacturing Corporation's New York,
+Sumner Ferry, Thanksgiving Flats, and Spread Eagle Springs Railroad,
+along which a special train speedily whirled us to the front door of the
+works. On the steps stood the genial managing director, supported by the
+principal manager Colonel Exodus V. Rooster, the head chemist Major
+Madison B. Jefferson, and the assistant chemists Judge Vansittart J.
+Sumner and Admiral Hudson W. Killigrew.
+
+"They received us with open arms, and, after entertaining us at a
+_recherche_ lunch, conducted us to the chemistry and analysis section
+occupying a little over seventeen acres and employing a permanent staff
+of thirteen thousand four hundred and thirty-two, assistants, among whom
+are chemists, microscopists, sub-inventors, etc., etc. There it is that
+the productive operations of Nature are studied and improved upon.
+
+"'You must not imagine that we have any kind of sympathy or admiration
+for Nature's system,' explained General S. J. Van Biene, hastening to
+sweep away any false impression which we might have formed.
+
+[Illustration: "THEY RECEIVED US WITH OPEN ARMS."]
+
+"'On the contrary, we just entirely despise her and her ways, and should
+have discarded her way back but for the prejudices of the consuming
+public. It's just like this--the consumers still believe in natural
+products, and so we have to go on reproducing them instead of starting
+right away on our own lines and bringing out new and original
+commodities far in advance of anything Nature can do. How we're
+stultified you'll see as we work through. We just have to copy, anyway,
+in place of originating. We make oysters, for example. Now quite a while
+ago, our head chemist Major Madison B. Jefferson invented a new edible
+way, finer in every essential than the oyster; but the consumers
+wouldn't have it: they shied at it, and declared it wasn't wholesome;
+and we had the whole stock on our hands, and had to vat it down again,
+and recolour it, and make tomatoes of it. Then they took it down and
+just chaired it round. Of course, we have to say we _grow_ the
+products--that's another effect of popular prejudice; if we had said we
+made those tomatoes, the public would have started right off again, and
+talked of "adulteration," although our tomatoes whip Nature's by 50 per
+cent, in all the elements of nutrition and flavour. Just taste this
+one.'
+
+"We hesitated, and the director, perceiving it, promptly consumed
+another from the same case. Thus reassured, we ventured to nibble at the
+artificial vegetable, and found it excellent in every respect--decidedly
+superior to the natural product, as he had stated.
+
+"'But,' we asked, 'do you not suffer considerable losses when these
+products--necessarily perishable in the natural course of things--begin
+to decay?'
+
+[Illustration: "JUST TASTE THIS ONE."]
+
+"'That's just another point where we show our superiority to Nature.
+_Our_ products _don't_ decay; on the contrary, they improve by keeping.
+Here is a tomato seven years old,' he continued, taking down another
+case. 'Try it.'
+
+"We did. The other was not to be compared with it. The older tomato had
+matured and mellowed, the skin having a finer colour and lovelier gloss,
+the flesh possessing a firmer body and more delicate flavour; it was far
+in advance of any tomato we had ever conceived.
+
+"'Wonderful!' we exclaimed.
+
+"'A very simple matter,' said the director. 'All that is required is a
+thorough mastery of chemistry. In all our goods we employ a special
+patent preservative of our own, which is naturally a secret. We
+calculate it to be worth one hundred and fifty quadrillions of dollars.
+
+"'But let us show you how we make oysters! See, these are the tanks
+which contain the mixture--the compound which forms the body of the
+bivalve. This tank contains the beard-mixture; and this one the
+gristle.'
+
+"'And what are the principal ingredients?'
+
+"'Glue, made from horses' heels. This is a very important factor in our
+products. This glue, after undergoing a peculiar treatment which
+prevents its hardening and losing its elasticity in the course of years,
+is flavoured and coloured in various ways. This great tank contains the
+composition for the internal parts of the oyster--nearly black, you
+perceive; that tank over there contains the compound for the flesh that
+covers the internal parts; that tank farther along holds the beard
+mixture; and the one beyond that the gristle which attaches the oyster
+to the shell. First, the flesh of the oyster is run into moulds, each
+oyster being in two parts; then the inside of the animal is run into
+another mould, and the two halves of the body are automatically placed
+around it and cemented together.
+
+"'Meanwhile the beards have been rolled, stamped, frilled, and coloured
+along the edge by special automatic machinery. The body of the oyster
+then passes to the fixing-up room, where the beard is cemented to it by
+hand, and finishing touches of colour added; and then it passes along
+and has the gristle attached: and the oyster itself is complete.'
+
+[Illustration: The Oyster Factory Affixing the Beards.]
+
+"'But it wants a shell!'
+
+"'Just so. As far as the supply will go, we buy up old shells from
+dustyards and use them; but most of them are damaged by previous
+opening, so we make the bulk of our shells, and they're a good deal more
+natural than the real ones. They're made of lime.'
+
+"'All alike?'
+
+"'Not in the least. You see, we have some thousands of moulds, every one
+differing slightly from the rest. There's a special department for
+hingeing the two shells together. We had some trouble to find a
+substance for the hinge; but at last one of our chemists hit on a way of
+subjecting old hide-scraps to a peculiar process, and that did the
+thing. The mother-of-pearl is made of a sort of soft glass, somewhat
+after the appearance of Venetian glass, and put on the shell hot.
+Lastly, the oyster is attached to the shells by its cartilage; a little
+liquor is put in, and the shells are closed up.'
+
+"'But surely people must observe that they are not alive?' we said. 'For
+instance, they can't open their shells!'
+
+"'That's just where you're astray,' replied the General. 'Owing to the
+mechanical action of salt upon the composition of the cartilage, the
+oyster opens when placed in salt water. Iron, however, exercises an
+electro-magnetic influence upon the composition forming the body of the
+bivalve, causing a sudden contraction--so that, on a knife being
+introduced into the shell, the latter closes in the most natural way. We
+manufacture pearls on the premises, and advertise that one oyster in
+every gross taken from our beds contains a pearl of more or less value;
+and there's a greater demand for our oysters than for any others in the
+world. Our oyster beds are way down along the coast, about ten miles
+off; and are inspected by thousands yearly. Taste this egg.'
+
+[Illustration: The Pearl.]
+
+"He took up a fine specimen of a new-laid egg, and proceeded to break it
+into a glass. It was a delightful egg. 'That's our latest pattern of
+egg,' explained the General, 'You perceive that it has three lines
+around it, where the substance of the shell is weaker than elsewhere;
+the lines near each end enable a person about to consume the egg in a
+boiled state to easily cut off the top or bottom with a knife, or run
+his nail around it; while the line about the middle greatly assists
+cooks in breaking it into a basin. There is also a thin spot at either
+end, to facilitate sucking. These eggs are always new-laid; we send tons
+to Europe, particularly to Great Britain, where ours are the only fresh
+eggs they ever get.'
+
+[Illustration: The London Egg]
+
+"'But you must find some difficulty in making an egg?'
+
+"'Just as easy as smiling. The white is simply jelly-fish subjected to a
+chemical process--jelly-fish aren't costly. This tank is full of the
+liquor. The main ingredient of the yolk is the horse-heel glue mentioned
+before; we also boil down vast quantities of rats--they come cheap, too;
+it's only the cost of catching them; and then there's a vegetable
+colouring, and the preservative, and a few other trifles. First, the two
+halves of the white are made in two moulds, and frozen; then the two
+frozen halves are frozen together, and the yolk-mixture poured in
+through a small hole, which is then closed. Then comes the skin; and
+that is the most expensive part, for it contains a certain quantity of
+rubber. We have tried in vain to find a substitute for rubber, but
+failed hitherto. The rubber is mixed with a gum from a South American
+tree, and the mixture is applied with a brush over the frozen egg; and
+then the egg, still frozen, is dipped in a lime composition very nearly
+identical with the oyster-shell mixture; and, lastly, the whole thing is
+passed through the finishing machine, which turns the three thin lines
+and the two thin spots, imitates the pores of the shell, and delivers
+the finished egg to the warehouse.'
+
+"'Marvellous!' we involuntarily exclaimed.
+
+"'Oh, that's nothing at all,' said the director. 'We're meditating
+turning out eggs that will hatch and become fowls. At present we have to
+manufacture fowls; but we calculate to make a great saving by producing
+them from the eggs we make. That building over yonder is the terrapin
+factory; we turn out eleven tons of terrapin weekly. We make clams, of
+course--in the oyster department. In this next house we make kidneys and
+sweetbreads. Fruit? Oh, yes, we turn out masses of fruit; peaches pay
+best, but we do very well with nuts.'
+
+"We were then conducted to the show-room, where we tasted a number of
+other products of the wonderful factory; and we had just said a grateful
+farewell to our courteous guide, when we were seized with pains of the
+most acute description.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: The Pain.]
+
+"The arrangements of the hospital were admirable. The kindliness and
+attention we received made our five years' sojourn there a time to look
+back upon with feelings of gratitude. We are assured that, with strict
+diet and unremitting care, we may last some time yet--possibly even
+three months."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"It was a marvellous vision," said James, fervently, as the voice of
+William ceased. "Surely after that you must think better of those beings
+of mine?"
+
+But William merely sniffed.
+
+                              J. F. SULLIVAN.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A TURNIP RESEMBLING A HUMAN HAND.]
+
+The above photographs represent two views of an extraordinary turnip
+grown by Alderman David Evans, Llangennech Park, Carmarthenshire. We are
+indebted for the photographs to Mr. Morgan W. James, of Llanelly.
+
+
+[Illustration: A ROOM PAPERED WITH STAMPS.]
+
+The above photograph represents the study of Mr. C. Whitfield King, of
+Morpeth House, Ipswich, which he has papered with 44,068 _unused_
+foreign postage stamps, bearing the value of L699 16s. 9d., and
+containing 48 varieties of different sizes and colours, presenting an
+example of mosaic work which is altogether unique of its kind.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: Drinking]
+
+[Illustration: VESSELS OF ALL]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: A CROCODILE STORY.]
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue
+27, March 1893, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STRAND MAGAZINE, MARCH 1893 ***
+
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