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diff --git a/40660-8.txt b/40660-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 0f641a0..0000000 --- a/40660-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,15529 +0,0 @@ - THE INTERPRETER - - - - -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 http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - - -Title: The Interpreter - A Tale of the War - -Author: G. J. Whyte-Melville - -Release Date: September 04, 2012 [EBook #40660] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE INTERPRETER *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines. - - - - -[Illustration: Cover] - - - - -[Illustration: "'My heart sank within me.'" (Page 172.) _Frontispiece_] - - - - - The Interpreter - - A Tale of the War - - - By - - G. J. Whyte-Melville - - Author of "Digby Grand," "General Bounce," etc. - - - - Illustrated by Lucy E. Kemp-Welch - - - - New York - Longmans, Green & Co. - - - - - CONTENTS - -CHAP. - - I. The Old Desk - II. The Deserter - III. "Par Nobile" - IV. Father and Son - V. The Zingynies - VI. School - VII. Play - VIII. The Truants - IX. Ropsley - X. Beverley Manor - XI. Dulce Domum - XII. Alton Grange - XIII. "Lethalis Arundo" - XIV. The Picture - XV. Beverley Mere - XVI. Princess Vocqsal - XVII. The Common Lot - XVIII. Omar Pasha - XIX. "'Skender Bey" - XX. The Beloochee - XXI. Zuleika - XXII. Valerie - XXIII. Forewarned - XXIV. "Arcades Ambo" - XXV. "Dark and Dreary" - XXVI. "Surveillance" - XXVII. Ghosts of the Past - XXVIII. La Dame aux Camellias - XXIX. "A Merry Masque" - XXX. The Golden Horn - XXXI. The Seraskerât - XXXII. A Turk's Harem - XXXIII. My Patient - XXXIV. "Messirie's" - XXXV. "The Wolf and the Lamb" - XXXVI. "The Front" - XXXVII. "A Quiet Night" -XXXVIII. The Grotto - XXXIX. The Redan - XL. The War-Minister at Home - XLI. Wheels within Wheels - XLII. "Too Late" - XLIII. "The Skeleton" - XLIV. The Gipsy's Dream - XLV. Retribution - XLVI. Væ Victis! - XLVII. The Return of Spring - - - - - THE INTERPRETER - - _A TALE OF THE WAR_ - - - - CHAPTER I - - THE OLD DESK - - -Not one of my keys will fit it: the old desk has been laid aside for -years, and is covered with dust and rust. We do not make such strong -boxes nowadays, for brass hinges and secret drawers have given place to -flimsy morocco and russian leather; so we clap a Bramah lock, that -Bramah himself cannot pick, on a black bag that the veriest bungler can -rip open in five seconds with a penknife, and entrust our notes, bank -and otherwise, our valuables, and our secrets, to this faithless -repository with a confidence that deserves to be respected. But in the -days when George the Third was king, our substantial ancestors rejoiced -in more substantial workmanship: so the old desk that I cannot succeed -in unlocking, is of shining rosewood, clamped with brass, and I shall -spoil it sadly with the mallet and the chisel. - -What a medley it holds! Thank Heaven I am no speculative philosopher, -or I might moralise for hours over its contents. First, out flies a -withered leaf of geranium. It must have been dearly prized once, or it -would never have been here; maybe it represented the hopes, the wealth, -the all-in-all of two aching hearts: and they are dust and ashes now. -To think that the flower should have outlasted them! the symbol less -perishable than the faith! Then I come to a piece of much-begrimed and -yellow paper, carefully folded, and indorsed with a date,--a receipt for -an embrocation warranted specific in all cases of bruises, sprains, or -lumbago; next a gold pencil-case, with a head of Socrates for a seal; -lastly, much of that substance which is generated in all waste places, -and which the vulgar call "flue." How it comes there puzzles equally -the naturalist and the philosopher; but you shall find it in empty -corners, empty drawers, empty pockets, nay, we believe in its existence -in the empty heads of our fellow-creatures. - -In my thirst for acquisition, regardless of dusty fingers, I press the -inner sides of the desk in hopes of discovering secret springs and -hoarded repositories: so have poor men ere now found thousand-pound -notes hid away in chinks and crannies, and straightway, giddy with the -possession of boundless wealth, have gone to the Devil at a pace such as -none but the beggar on horseback can command; so have old wills been -fished out, and frauds discovered, and rightful heirs re-established, -and society in general disgusted, and all concerned made discontented -and uncomfortable--so shall I, perhaps--but the springs work, a false -lid flies open, and I do discover a packet of letters, written on thin -foreign paper, in the free straggling characters I remember so well. -They are addressed to Sir H. Beverley, and the hand that penned them has -been cold for years. So will yours and mine be some day, perhaps ere -the flowers are out again; _O beate Sexti!_ will you drink a glass less -claret on that account? Buxom Mrs. Lalage, shall the dressmaker -therefore put unbecoming trimmings in your bonnet? The "shining hours" -are few, and soon past; make the best of them, each in your own way, -only try and choose the right way:-- - - For the day will soon be over, and the minutes are of gold, - And the wicket shuts at sundown, and the shepherd leaves the - fold. - - - - LETTER I - -"Those were merry days, my dear Hal, when we used to hear the 'chimes at -midnight' with poor Brummell and Sir Benjamin;[#] very jolly times they -were, and I often think, if health and pockets could have stood it, I -should like to be going the pace amongst you all still. And yet how few -of us are left. They have dropped off one by one, as they did the night -we dyed the white rose red at the old place; and you, and I, and stanch -old 'Ben,' were the only three left that could walk straight. Do you -remember the corner of King-street, and 'Ben' stripped 'to the buff,' as -he called it himself, 'going-in' right royally at the tall fellow with -the red head? I never saw such right-and-lefters, I never thought he -had so much 'fight' in him; and you don't remember, Hal, but I do, how -'the lass with the long locks' bent over you when you were floored, like -Andromache over a debauched Hector, and stanched the claret that was -flowing freely from your nostrils, and gave you gin in a -smelling-bottle, which you sucked down as though it were mother's milk, -like a young reprobate as you were; nor do you remember, nor do I very -clearly, how we all got back to 'The Cottage,' and finished with burnt -curagoa, and a dance on the table by daylight. And now you and I are -about the only two left, and I am as near ruined as a gentleman can be; -and you must have lost your pen-feathers, Hal, I should think, though -you were a goose that always could pick a living off a common, be it -never so bare. Well, we have had our fun; and after all, I for one have -been far happier since than I ever was in those roystering days; but of -this I cannot bear to speak." - - -[#] The dandy's nickname for the Prince Regent. - - -"Nor am I so much to be pitied now. I have got my colours and my -sketch-book, after all; and there never was such a country as this for a -man who has half an eye in his head. On these magnificent plains the -lights and shades are glorious. Glorious, Hal, with a little red jagged -in here and there towards sunset, and the ghostly maize waving and -whispering, and the feathery acacias trembling in the lightest air, the -russet tinge of the one and the fawn-coloured stems of the other melting -so softly into the neutral tints of the sandy soil. I could paint a -picture here that should be perfectly true to Nature--nay, more natural -than the old dame herself--and never use but two colours to do it all! -I am not going to tell you what they are: and this reminds me of my boy, -and of a want in his organisation that is a sad distress to me. The -child has not a notion of colour. I was painting out of doors -yesterday, and he was standing by--bless him! he never leaves me for an -instant--and I tried to explain to him some of the simplest rudiments of -the godlike art. 'Vere,' said I, 'do you see those red tints on the tops -of the far acacias, and the golden tinge along the back of that brown ox -in the foreground?' 'Yes, papa!' was the child's answer, with a -bewildered look. 'How should you paint them, my boy?' 'Well, papa, I -should paint the acacias green, because they _are_ green, and'--here he -thought he had made a decided hit--'I should put the red into the ox, -for he is almost more red than brown.' Dear child! he has not a -glimmering of colour; but composition, that's his forte; and drawing, -drawing, you know, which is the highest form of the art. His drawing is -extraordinary--careless, but great breadth and freedom; and I am certain -he could compose a wonderful picture, from his singular sensibility to -beauty. Young as he is, I have seen the tears stand in his eyes when -contemplating a fine view, or a really exquisite 'bit,' such as one sees -in this climate every day. His raptures at his first glimpse of the -Danube I shall never forget; and if I can only instil into him the -principles of colour, you will see Vere will become the first painter of -the age. The boy learns languages readily enough. He has picked up a -good deal of Hungarian from his nurse. Such a woman, Hal! magnificent! -Such colouring: deep brown tones, and masses of the richest grey hair, -with superb, solemn, sunken eyes, and a throat and forehead tanned and -wrinkled into the very ideal of a Canidia, or a Witch of Endor, or any -fine old sorceress, 'all of the olden time.' I have done her in chalks, -and in sepia, and in oils. I adore her in the former. She is, I fancy, -a good, careful woman, and much attached to Vere, who promises to be an -excellent linguist; but of this I cannot see the advantage. There is -but one pursuit, in my opinion, for an intellectual being who is not -obliged to labour in the fields for his daily bread, and that is Art. I -have wooed the heavenly maid all my life. To me she has been sparing of -her favours; and yet a single smile from her has gilded my path for many -a long and weary day. She has beckoned me on and on till I feel I could -follow her to the end of the world; she shielded me _in the dark hour_; -she has brightened my lot ever since; she led me to nature, her grand -reflection--for you know my theory, that art is reality, and nature but -the embodiment of art; she has made me independent of the frowns of that -other jade, Fortune, and taught me the most difficult lesson of all--to -be content. What is wealth? You and I have seen it lavished with both -hands, and its possessor weary, satiate, languid, and disgusted. What -is rank? a mark for envy, an idol but for fools. Fame? a few orders on -a tight uniform; a craving for more and more; even when we know the -tastelessness of the food, to be still hungry for applause. Love? a -sting of joy and a heartache for ever. Are they not all vanity of -vanities? But your artist is your true creator. He can embody the -noblest aspirations of his mind, and give them a reality and a name. -You, Hal, who are the most practical, unimaginative, business-like -fellow that ever hedged a bet or drove a bargain, have had such dreams -betwixt sleeping and waking as have given you a taste of heaven, and -taught you the existence of a fairy-land of which, to such as you, is -only granted a far-away and occasional glimpse. What would you give to -be able to embody such blissful visions and call them up at will? Let -me have a camel's-hair brush, a few dabs of clay, and, behold! I am the -magician before whose wand these dreams shall reappear tangibly, -substantially, enduringly: alas! for mortal shortcomings, sometimes a -little out of drawing, sometimes a little hard and cold; but still, Hal, -I can make my own world, such as it is, and people it for myself; nor do -I envy any man on earth, except, perhaps, a sculptor. To have perfected -and wrought out in the imperishable marble the ideal of one's whole -life, to walk round it, and smoke one's cigar and say, 'This will last -as long as St. Paul's Cathedral or the National Debt, and this is mine, -I made it'--must be a sensation of delight that even we poor painters, -with our works comparatively of a day, can hardly imagine; but then, -what we lose in durability we gain in reproduction: and so once more I -repeat, let who will be statesman, warrior, stock-jobber, or voluptuary, -but give me the pallet and the easel, the _délire d'un peintre_, the -line of beauty and the brush! - -"Can you wonder that I should wish my boy to tread the same path? Had I -but begun at his age, and worked as I _should_ have worked, what might I -have been now? Could I but make amends to him by leading him up the path -to real fame, and see Vere the regenerator of modern art, I should die -happy. - -"And now, Hal, I must ask you of your own pursuits and your own -successes. I do not often see an English paper; but these are a fine -sporting people, with a dash of our English tastes and love of -horseflesh; and in a small pothouse where we put up last week, in the -very heart of the Banat, I found a print of Flying Childers, and a -_Bell's Life_ of the month before last. In this I read that your -Marigold colt was first favourite for the Derby, and I can only say that -I hope he will win, as fervently as I should have done some years back, -when he would have carried a large portion of my money, or at least of -my credit, on his back. I have also gathered that your shorthorns won -the prize at the great cattle-show. 'Who drives fat oxen must himself -be fat.' I trust, therefore, that you are flourishing and thriving; -also, that Constance, the most stately little lady I ever beheld at two -years old, still queens it at the Manor-house. I will write again -shortly, but must leave off now, as my boy is calling me to go out. He -grows more like his poor mother every day, especially about the -eyes.--Adieu, Hal; ever yours, - -"PHILIP EGERTON." - - - -LETTER II - -"The longer I linger here the more I become wedded to the land in which, -after all, I have known the few hours of real happiness I ever spent. -Yes, Hal, with all its guilt, with all its anxieties, with everything -and everybody battling against me--that was my golden year, such as I -shall never see again. She was so generous, so gentle, and so true; she -sacrificed all so willingly for me, and never looked back. Such -courage, such patience, and oh! such beauty; and to lose her after one -short year. Well, it is my punishment, and I bear it; but if it had to -be done again I would do it. Surely I was not so much to blame. Had -she but lived I would have made her such amends. And after all she is -mine--mine in her lonely grave under the acacias, and I shall meet her -again. If the universe holds her I shall meet her again. Wearily the -years have dragged on since I lost her, but every birthday is a -milestone nearer home; and in the meantime I have Vere and my art. And -we wander about this wild country, and scamper across its boundless -plains, and I paint and smoke, and try to be happy. - -"We arrived here last night, and I need scarcely tell you that Edeldorf -is as English as any place out of England can be, and my old friend but -little altered during the last twenty years. You remember De Rohan at -Melton and Newmarket, at Rome and at Paris. Wherever he lived he was -quite the Englishman, and always rode a thoroughbred horse. It would -indeed be ungrateful on your part to forget him. Need I remind you of -the dinner at the old Club, and the procession afterwards, with some -fourteen wax candles, to inspect The Switcher in your stables, at the -risk of burning down the greater part of the town, and converting some -of the best horses in England into an exceedingly tough grill. I can -see the Count's face of drunken gravity now, as he felt carefully down -the horse's forelegs, undeterred by the respectful stare of your groom, -or the undisguised astonishment of the animal itself. 'Vat is his -name?' was the only question he asked of the polite Mr. Topthorn. 'The -Switcher, my lord,' was the reply. 'Ver' nice name,' said the Count, -and bought him forthwith at a price that you yourself can best -appreciate; but from that day to this he never could pronounce the -animal's appellation; and although he rode 'The Svishare' both in -England and here, and has got prints and pictures of him all over the -house, 'The Svishare' he will continue to be till the end of time. - -"All this Anglo-mania, however, is not much appreciated in high places; -and I can see enough without looking much below the surface to satisfy -me that the Count is eyed jealously by the authorities, and that if ever -they catch him tripping they will not spare his fortunes or his person. -I fear there will be a row before long, and I would not trust the wild -blood of my friends here if once they get the upper hand. Only -yesterday an incident occurred that gave me a pretty correct idea of the -state of feeling in this country, and the disaffection of the peasant to -his imperial rulers. Vere and I were travelling along in our usual -manner, occupying the front seat of a most dilapidated carriage, which I -purchased at Bucharest for twenty ducats, with the nurse and the baggage -behind. We had stopped for me to sketch an animated group, in the shape -of a drove of wild horses being drafted and chosen by their respective -owners, and Vere was clapping his hands and shouting with delight at the -hurry-skurry of the scene (by the way, there was a white horse that I -caught in a beautiful attitude, who comes out admirably and lights up -the whole sketch), when an officer and a couple of Austrian dragoons -rode into the midst of the busy horse-tamers, and very rudely proceeded -to subject them to certain inquiries, which seemed to meet with sulky -and evasive answers enough. After a time the Austrian officer, a -handsome boy of twenty, stroking an incipient moustache, ordered the -oldest man of the party to be pinioned; and placing him between his two -soldiers, began to interrogate him in a most offensive and supercilious -manner. The old man, who was what we should call in England a better -sort of yeoman farmer, of course immediately affected utter ignorance of -German; and as the young Austrian was no great proficient in Hungarian, -I was compelled most unwillingly to interpret between them, Vere looking -on meanwhile with his mouth wide open, in a state of intense -bewilderment. The following is a specimen of the conversation:-- - -"_Austrian Sub-Lieutenant_, in German--'Thou hast been hiding deserters; -and so shalt thou be imprisoned, and fined, and suffer punishment.' I -have to modify these threats into Hungarian.--'Brother, this noble -officer seeks a deserter. Knowest thou of such an one?' - -"_Old Man_--'My father, I know nothing.' - -"_Austrian Officer_, with many expletives, modified as before by your -humble servant--'You shall be punished with the utmost rigour if you do -not give him up.' - -"_Old Man_, again--'My father, I know nothing.' - -"_Officer_, losing all patience, and gesticulating wildly with his -sword--'Slave, brute, dog, tell me this instant which way he took, or I -will have you hanged to that nearest tree, your family shall be -imprisoned, and your village burnt to the ground.' - -"_Old Man_, as before--'My father, I know nothing.' - -"The case was getting hopeless; but the young officer had now thoroughly -lost his temper, and ordered his men to tie the peasant up, and flog him -soundly with a stirrup-leather. Here I thought it high time to -interpose; I saw the wild Hungarian blood beginning to boil in the veins -of some dozen dark scowling fellows, who had been occupied tending the -horses. Eyes were flashing at the Austrians, and hands clutching under -the sheepskin where the long knife lies. Fortunately the officer was a -gentleman and an admirer of the English. With much difficulty I -persuaded him to abandon his cruel intention, and to ride on in -prosecution of his search; but it was when his back was turned that the -tide of indignation against himself and his country swelled to the -highest. The peasants' faces actually became convulsed with rage, their -voices shook with fury, and threats and maledictions were poured on -their masters enough to make one's very blood run cold. If ever they do -get the upper hand, woe to the oppressor! There is nothing on earth so -fearful as a Jacquerie. God forbid this fair land should ever see one. - -"We journeyed on in a different direction from the dragoons, but we -caught occasional glimpses of their white coats as they gleamed through -the acacias that skirted the road; and I was just thinking how well I -could put them in with a dab or two of chalk against a thunder-storm, or -a dark wood in the midst of summer, when the bright sun makes the -foliage almost black, and debating in my own mind whether the officer -would not have made a better sketch if his horse had been a light grey, -when my postilion pulled up with a jerk that nearly chucked Vere out of -the carriage, and, pointing to something in the road, assured 'my -Excellency' that the horse was dying, and the rider, in all probability, -lying killed under his beast. Sure enough, an over-ridden horse was -prostrate in the middle of the road, and a young man vainly endeavouring -to raise him by the bridle, and calling him by all the terms of -endearment and abuse in the Hungarian vocabulary, without the slightest -effect. Seeing our carriage, he addressed me in German, and with a -gentlemanlike voice and manner begged to know in what direction I was -travelling. 'I hope to get to Edeldorf to-night,' was my answer. He -started at the name. 'Edeldorf!' said he; 'I, too, am bound for -Edeldorf; can you favour me with a seat in your carriage?' Of course I -immediately complied; and Vere and I soon had the stranger between us, -journeying amicably on towards my old friend's chateau. You know my -failing, Hal, so I need not tell you how it was that I immediately began -to study my new acquaintance's physiognomy, somewhat, I thought, to his -discomfiture, for at first he turned his head away, but after a while -seemed to think better of it, and entered into conversation with much -frankness and vivacity. The sun was getting low, and I think I could -have sketched him very satisfactorily in that warm, soft light. His -head was essentially that of a soldier; the brow deficient in ideality, -but with the bold outlines which betoken penetration and forethought. -Constructiveness fully developed, combativeness moderate, but firmness -very strongly marked; the eye deep set, and, though small, remarkably -brilliant; the jaw that of a strong, bold man, while the lines about the -mouth showed great energy of character and decision. From the general -conformation of his head I should have placed forethought as the -distinguishing quality of his character, and I should have painted the -rich brown tones of his complexion on a system of my own, which such a -portrait would be admirably calculated to bring out. However, I could -not well ask him to sit to me upon so short an acquaintance; so, while -he and Vere chatted on--for they soon became great friends, and my new -acquaintance seemed charmed to find a child speaking German so -fluently--I began to speculate on the trade and character of this -mysterious addition to our party. 'Hair cut short, moustache close -clipped,' thought I, 'perfect German accent, and the broad Viennese -dialect of the aristocracy, all this looks like a soldier; but the rough -frieze coat, and huge shapeless riding boots could never belong to an -officer of that neatest of armies--"the Imperial and Kingly." Then his -muscular figure, and light active gait, which I remarked as he sprang -into the carriage, would argue him one who was in the habit of -practising feats of strength and agility. There is no mistaking the -effects of the gymnasium. Stay, I have it, he is a fencing-master; that -accounts for the military appearance, the quick glance, the somewhat -worn look of the countenance, and he is going to Edeldorf, to teach De -Rohan's boy the polite art of self-defence. So much the better. I, -too, love dearly a turn with the foils, so I can have a glorious -"set-to" with him to-morrow or the next day; and then, when we are more -intimate, I can paint him. I think I shall do him in oils. I wish he -would turn his head the least thing further this way.' I had got as far -as this when my new friend did indeed turn his head round, and looking -me full in the face, thus addressed me:--'Sir, you are an Englishman, -and an honourable man. I have no right to deceive you. You incur great -danger by being seen with me. I have no right to implicate you; set me -down, and let me walk.' Vere looked more astonished than ever. I -begged him to explain himself. 'I tell you,' said he, 'that I am a -thief and a deserter. My name is posted at every barrack-gate in the -empire. I am liable to be hanged, if taken. Are you not afraid of me -now?' 'No,' exclaimed Vere, his colour heightening and his eyes -glistening (oh! so like her). 'Papa and I will take care of you; don't -be afraid.' My boy had anticipated what I was going to say; but I -assured him that as I had taken him into my carriage I considered him as -my guest, and come what would I never could think of abandoning him till -we reached our destination. 'Of course,' I added, 'you are then free to -come and go as you please. If you have done anything disgraceful, we -need never know each other again. I do not wish to hear of it. You are -to me only a belated traveller; permit me to add, a gentleman, to whom I -am delighted to be of service. Will you smoke? Let me offer you a -cigar.' The blood rushed to his face as he declined the proffered -courtesy; for an instant he looked half offended, and then, seizing my -hand, he exclaimed, 'If you knew all, you would pity me--nay, more, you -would approve of what I have done.' He turned suddenly to Vere, and -rather startled him by abruptly exclaiming, 'Boy, do you love your -father? is he all the world to you?' 'Yes,' said Vere, colouring up -again, 'of course I love papa, and Nurse "Nettich" too.' That worthy -woman was fast asleep in the rumble. 'Well,' said the stranger, more -composedly, 'I love my father, too; he is all I have in the world, and -for his sake I would do the same thing again. I will tell you all about -it, and you shall judge between me and my crime.' But my new friend's -story I must defer, my dear Hal, to another letter. So for the present, -_Vive valeque_." - - - - - CHAPTER II - - THE DESERTER - - -Dim and strange are the recollections that steal over me while I read -these time-worn letters of one who, with all his faults, was the -kindest, fondest, and best of enthusiasts. It seems like a dream; I -cannot fancy that I am the child alluded to. It seems as though all -this must have happened to some one else, and that I stood by and -watched. Yet have I a vague and shadowy remembrance of the warm -autumnal evening; the road soft and thick with dust; the creaking, -monotonous motion of the carriage, and my waking up from an occasional -nap, and finding myself propped by the strong arm of a stranger, and -nestling my head upon his broad shoulder, whilst my father's kind face -and eager eyes were turned towards my new acquaintance with the earnest -comprehensive look I remember so well. My father always seemed to take -in at a glance, not only the object that attracted his attention, but -all its accessories, possible as well as actual. I believe he never -left off painting in his mind. I remember nothing very distinctly; and -no wonder, for my little brain must have been a strange chaos of -shifting scenes and unexpected events, foreign manners and home ideas, -to say nothing of a general confusion of tongues; for I could prattle -French, German, and Hungarian, with a smattering of Turkish, not to -mention my own native language; and I used them all indiscriminately. -But my father's letters bring back much that I had otherwise forgotten, -and whilst I read the story of the renegade, I can almost fancy I am -leaning against his upright soldierlike form, and listening to the clear -decided tones in which he told his tale. - - - - LETTER III - -"'I am a soldier, sir,' said my new acquaintance, whilst I leant back in -the carriage smoking my cigar, and, _more meo_, Hal, made the most of my -'study.' 'I am an Austrian soldier--at least I was a week ago--I would -not give much for my chance if ever I come into the clutches of the -"Double Eagle" again. Shall I tell you why I entered the Imperial army? -All my life I have thought it best to be on the winning side. If I had -been born an Englishman, oh, what happiness! I would have asked no -better lot than to wander about with my dog and my gun, and be free. -But a Croat, no, there is no liberty in Croatia. We must have masters, -forsooth! territorial dues and seignorial rights; and we must bow and -cringe and be trampled on by our own nobility. But these, too, have -_their_ masters, and I have seen the lord of many thousand acres tremble -before a captain of dragoons. So I determined that if a military -despotism was to be the order of the day, why I, too, would make a part -of the great engine, perhaps some time I might come to wield it all. My -father was appointed steward to a great lord in Hungary--perhaps, had he -remained, I might never have left home, for I am his only child, and we -two are alone in the world; besides, is not a son's first duty to obey -his father?--but I could not bear to exchange the free open air, and my -horse, and my gun, and my dogs (I had the best greyhounds in Croatia), -for a leathern stool and an inkstand, and I said, "Father, I too will -become an Austrian, and so some day shall I be a great man, perhaps a -colonel, and then will I return once a year to see you, and comfort you -in your old age." So I was sworn to obey the Emperor, and soon I learnt -my exercise, and saw that to rise even in the Austrian army was not -difficult for one who could see clearly before him, and could count that -two and two make four, and never five. - -"'Very few men are soldiers at heart, and those who love the profession -and would fain shine, can only see one way to success, and that must be -the old-established track that has always been followed. If I wanted to -move across that stream and had no boats, what should I do? I would try -if it be too deep to wade. But the regulation says, soldiers shall not -wade if the water be over a certain depth. So for six inches of water I -must be defeated. That should not be my way; if it came no higher than -their chins my men should cross; and if we could keep our muskets dry, -where would be the harm? Well, I soon rose to be a corporal and a -sergeant; and whilst I practised fencing and riding and gymnastics, I -learnt besides something of gunnery and fortification, and the art of -supplying an army with food. At last I was made lieutenant and -paymaster of the regiment, for I could always calculate readily, and -never shrank from trouble or feared responsibility. So I had good pay -and good comrades, and was getting on. Meanwhile my poor father was -distressing himself about my profession, and imagining all sorts of -misfortunes that would happen to me if I remained a soldier. In his -letters to me he always hinted at the possibility of some great -success--at his hopes of, before long, placing me in an independent -position; that I should leave the army to come and live with him, and we -would farm an estate of our own, and never be parted any more. Poor old -man! what do you think he built on? why, these foolish lotteries. -Ticket after ticket did he purchase, and ticket after ticket came up a -blank. At last, in his infatuation, he raised a sum of money--enough to -obtain him all the numbers he had set his heart upon--for he mixed -calculation with his gambling, which is certain ruin--and for this -purpose he embezzled two thousand florins of his employer's property, -and wasted it as he had done the rest. In his despair he wrote to me. -What could I do? two thousand florins were in the pay-chest. I have it -here in this leathern bag. I have saved my father; he is steward at -Edeldorf. I shall see him to-night; after that I must fly the country. -I will go to England, the land of the free. I am ruined, degraded, and -my life is not worth twelve hours' purchase; but I do not regret it. -Look at your boy, sir, and tell me if I am not right.' He is a fine -fellow this, Hal, depend upon it; and though my own feelings as a -gentleman were a little shocked at a man talking thus coolly of robbery -in anything but the legitimate way on the turf, I could scarcely -remonstrate with him now the thing was done; so I shook him by the hand, -and promised him at any rate a safe convoy to Edeldorf, which we were -now rapidly approaching. You like a fine place, Hal; you always did. I -remember when you used to vow that if ever Fortune smiled upon you--and -faith, it is not for want of wooing that you have missed the goddess's -favours--how you would build and castellate and improve Beverley Manor, -till, in my opinion as an artist and a man of associations, you would -spoil it completely; but I think even your fastidious taste would be -delighted with Edeldorf. The sun was just down as we drove into the -park, and returned the salute of the smart Hussar mounting guard at the -lodge; and the winding road, and smooth sward dotted with thorns, and -those eternal acacias, reminded one of a gentleman's place in Old -England, till we rounded the corner of a beautifully-dressed -flower-garden, and came in view of the castle itself, with all its -angles and turrets and embrasures, and mullioned windows, and -picturesque ins-and-outs; the whole standing boldly out in a -chiaro-oscuro against the evening sky, fast beginning to soften into -twilight. Old De Rohan was on the steps to welcome me, his figure -upright and noble as ever; his countenance as pleasing; but the beard -and moustache that you and I remember so dark and glossy, now as white -as snow; yet he is a very handsome fellow still. In mail or plate, -leaning his arm on his helmet, with his beard flowing over a steel -cuirass inlaid with gold, he would make a capital seneschal, or marshal -of a tournament, or other elderly dignitary of the middle ages; but I -should like best to paint him in dark velvet, with a skull-cap, as Lord -Soulis, or some other noble votary of the magic art; and to bring him -out in a dusky room, with one ray of vivid light from a lamp just over -his temples, and gleaming off that fine, bold, shining forehead, from -which the hair is now completely worn away." - - -There are no more of the old dusty letters. Why these should have been -tied up and preserved for so many years is more than I can tell. They -have, however, reminded me of much in my youth that I had well-nigh -forgotten. I must try back on my vague memories for the commencement of -my narrative. - - - - - CHAPTER III - - "PAR NOBILE" - - -"You shall play with my toys, and break them if you like, for my papa -loves the English, and you are my English friend," said a handsome -blue-eyed child to his little companion, as they sauntered hand-in-hand -through the spacious entrance-hall at Edeldorf. The boy was evidently -bent on patronising his friend. The friend was somewhat abashed and -bewildered, and grateful to be taken notice of. - -"What is your name?--may I call you by your Christian name?" said the -lesser child, timidly, and rather nestling to his protector, for such -had the bigger boy constituted himself. - -"My name is Victor," was the proud reply, "and _you_ may call me Victor, -because I love you; but the servants must call me Count, because my papa -is a count; and I am not an Austrian count, but a Hungarian. Come and -see my sword." So the two children were soon busy in an examination of -that very beautiful, but not very destructive plaything. - -They were indeed a strange contrast. Victor de Rohan, son and heir to -one of the noblest and wealthiest of Hungary's aristocracy, looked all -over the high-bred child he was. Free and bold, his large, frank blue -eyes, and wide brow, shaded with clustering curls of golden brown, -betokened a gallant, thoughtless spirit, and a kind, warm heart; whilst -the delicate nostril and handsomely-curved mouth of the well-born child -betrayed, perhaps, a little too much pride for one so young, and argued -a disposition not too patient of contradiction or restraint. His little -companion was as unlike him as possible, and indeed most people would -have taken Victor for the English boy, and Vere for the foreign one. -The latter was heavy, awkward, and ungainly in his movements, timid and -hesitating in his manner, with a sallow complexion, and dark, deep-set -eyes, that seemed always looking into a world beyond. He was a strange -child, totally without the light-heartedness of his age, timid, shy, and -awkward, but capable of strong attachments, and willing to endure -anything for the sake of those he loved. Then he had quaint fancies, -and curious modes of expressing them, which made other children laugh at -him, when the boy would retire into himself, deeply wounded and unhappy, -but too proud to show it. As he looks now at Victor's sword, with which -the latter is vapouring about the hall, destroying imaginary enemies, -Vere asks-- - -"What becomes of the people that are killed, Victor?" - -"We ride over their bodies," says Victor, who has just delivered a -finishing thrust at his phantom foe. - -"Yes, but what _becomes_ of them?" pursues the child, now answering -himself. "I think they come to me in my dreams; for sometimes, do you -know, I dream of men in armour charging on white horses, and they come -by with a wind that wakes me; and when I ask 'Nettich' who they are, she -says they are the fairies; but I don't think they are fairies, because -you know fairies are quite small, and have wings. No, I think they must -be the people that are killed." - -"Very likely," replies Victor, who has not considered the subject in -this light, and whose dreams are mostly of ponies and plum-cake--"very -likely; but come to papa, and he will give us some grapes." So off they -go, arm-in-arm, to the great banqueting-hall; and Vere postpones his -dream-theories to some future occasion, for there is a charm about -grapes that speaks at once to a child's heart. - -So the two boys make their entrance into the banqueting-hall, where De -Rohan sits in state, surrounded by his guests. On his right is placed -Philip Egerton, whose dark eye gleams with pleasure as he looks upon his -son. Who but a father would take delight in such a plain, unattractive -child? Vere glides quietly to his side, shrinking from the strange -faces and gorgeous uniforms around; but Victor walks boldly up to the -old Count, and demands his daily glass of Tokay, not as a favour, but a -right. - -"I drink to Hungary!" says the child, looking full into the face of his -next neighbour, a prince allied to the Imperial family, and a General of -Austrian cavalry. "Monsieur le Prince, your good health! Come, clink -your glass with me." - -"Your boy is a true De Rohan," says the good-natured Austrian, as he -accepts the urchin's challenge, and their goblets ring against each -other. "Will you be a soldier, my lad, and wear the white uniform?" - -"I will be a soldier," answers the child, "but not an Austrian soldier -like you: Austrian soldiers are not so brave as Hungarians." - -"Well said, my little patriot," replies the amused General. "So you do -not think our people are good for much? Why, with that sword of yours, I -should be very sorry to face you with my whole division. What a Light -Dragoon the rogue will make, De Rohan! see, he has plundered the grapes -already." And the jolly prince sat back in his chair, and poured -himself out another glass of "Imperial Tokay." - -"Hush, Victor!" said his father, laughing, in spite of himself, at his -child's forwardness. "Look at your little English friend; he stands -quiet there, and says nothing. I shall make an Englishman of my boy, -Egerton; he shall go to an English school, and learn to ride and box, -and to be a man. I love England and the English. Egerton, your good -health! I wish my boy to be like yours. _Sapperment!_ he is quiet, but -I will answer for it he fears neither man nor devil." - -My father's face lighted up with pleasure as he pressed me to his side. -Kind father! I believe he thought his ugly, timid, shrinking child was -the admiration of all. - -"I think the boy has courage," he said, "but for that I give him little -credit. All men are naturally brave; it is but education that makes us -reflect; hence we learn to fear consequences, and so become cowards." - -"Pardon, _mon cher_," observed the Austrian General, with a laugh. -"Now, my opinion is that all men are naturally cowards, and that we -alone deserve credit who overcome that propensity, and so distinguish -ourselves for what we choose to call bravery, but which we ought rather -to term self-command. What say you, De Rohan? You have been in action, -and 'on the ground,' too, more than once. Were you not cursedly afraid?" - -De Rohan smiled good-humouredly, and filled his glass. - -"Shall I tell you my opinion of courage?" said he, holding up the -sparkling fluid to the light. "I think of courage what our Hungarian -Hussars think of a breast-plate. 'Of what use,' say they, 'is cuirass -and back-piece and all that weight of defensive armour? Give us a pint -of wine in our stomachs, and we are _breastplate all over_.' Come, -Wallenstein, put your breastplate on--it is very light, and fits very -easily." - -The General filled again, but returned to the charge. - -"You remind me," said he, "of a conversation I overheard when I was a -lieutenant in the first regiment of Uhlans. We were drawn up on the -crest of a hill opposite a battery in position not half-a-mile from us. -If they had retired us two hundred yards, we should have been under -cover; but we never got the order, and there we stood. Whish! the -round-shot came over our heads and under our feet, and into our ranks, -and we lost two men and five horses before we knew where we were. The -soldiers grumbled sadly, and a few seemed inclined to turn rein and go -to the rear. Mind you, it is not fair to ask cavalry to sit still and -be pounded for amusement; but the officers being _cowards by education_, -Mr. Egerton, did their duty well, and kept the men together. I was -watching my troop anxiously enough, and I heard one man say to his -comrade, 'Look at Johann, Fritz! what a bold one he is; he thinks -nothing of the fire; see, he tickles the horse of his front-rank man -even now, to make him kick.'" - -"Exactly my argument," interrupted my father; "he was an uneducated man, -consequently saw nothing to be afraid of. Bravery, after all, is only -insensibility to danger." - -"Fritz did not think so," replied Wallenstein. "Hear his -answer--'Johann is a blockhead,' he replied, 'he has never been under -fire before, and does not know his danger; but you and I, old comrade, -we deserve to be made corporals; for we sit quiet here on our horses, -_though we are most cursedly afraid_.'" - -The guests all laughed; and the discussion would have terminated, but -that De Rohan, who had drunk more wine than was his custom, and who was -very proud of his boy, could not refrain from once more turning the -conversation to Victor's merits, and to that personal courage by which, -however much he might affect to make light of it in society, he set such -store. - -"Well, Wallenstein," said he; "you hold that Nature makes us cowards; if -so, my boy here ought to show something of the white feather. Come -hither, Victor. Are you afraid of being in the dark?" - -"No, papa!" answered Victor, boldly; but added, after a moment's -consideration, "except in the Ghost's Gallery. I don't go through the -Ghost's Gallery after six o'clock." - -This _naïve_ confession excited much amusement amongst the guests; but -De Rohan's confidence in his boy's courage was not to be so shaken. - -"What shall I give you," said he, "to go and fetch me the old Breviary -that lies on the table at the far end of the Ghost's Gallery?" - -Victor looked at me, and I at him. My breath came quicker and quicker. -The child coloured painfully, but did not answer. I felt his terrors -myself. I looked upon the proposed expedition as a soldier might on a -forlorn hope; but something within kept stirring me to speak; it was a -mingled feeling of emulation, pity, and friendship, tinged with that -inexplicable charm that coming danger has always possessed for me--a -charm that the constitutionally brave are incapable of feeling. I -mastered my shyness with an effort, and, shaking all over, said to the -master of the house, in a thick, low voice-- - -"If you please, Monsieur le Comte, if Victor goes, I will go too." - -"Well said, little man!" "Bravo, boy!" "Vere, you're a trump!" in -plain English from my father; and "In Heaven's name, give the lads a -breastplate apiece, in the shape of a glass of Tokay!" from the jolly -General, were the acclamations that greeted my resolution; and for one -delicious moment I felt like a little hero. Victor, too, caught the -enthusiasm; and, ashamed of showing less courage than his playfellow, -expressed his readiness to accompany me,--first stipulating, however, -with praise-worthy caution, that he should take his sword for our joint -preservation; and also that two large bunches of grapes should be placed -at our disposal on our safe return, "if," as Victor touchingly remarked, -"we ever came back at all!" My father opened the door for us with a low -bow, and it closed upon a burst of laughter, which to us, bound, as we -fancied, on an expedition of unparalleled danger, sounded to the last -degree unfeeling. - -Hand-in-hand we two children walked through the ante-room, and across -the hall; nor was it until we reached the first landing on the wide, -gloomy oak staircase, that we paused to consider our future plans, and -to scan the desperate nature of our enterprise. There were but two more -flights of steps, a green-baize door to go through, a few yards of -passage to traverse, and then, Victor assured me, in trembling accents, -we should be in the Ghost's Gallery. My heart beat painfully, and my -informant began to cry. - -We laid our plans, however, with considerable caution, and made a solemn -compact of alliance, offensive and defensive, that no power, natural or -supernatural, was to shake. We were on no account whatsoever to leave -go of each other's hands. Thus linked, and Victor having his sword -drawn,--for the furtherance of which warlike attitude I was to keep -carefully on his left,--we resolved to advance, if possible, talking the -whole way up to the fatal table whereon lay the Breviary, and then -snatching it up hastily, to return backwards, so as to present our front -to the foe till we reached the green-baize door, at which point _sauve -qui peut_ was to be the order; and we were to rush back into the -dining-room as fast as our legs could carry us. But in the event of our -progress being interrupted by the ghost (who appeared, as Victor -informed me, in the shape of a huge black dog with green eyes,--a -description at which my blood ran cold,--and which he added had been -seen once by his governess and twice by an old drunken Hussar who waited -on him, and answered to the name of "Hans"), we were to lie down on our -faces, so as to hide our eyes from the ghostly vision, and scream till -we alarmed the house; but on no account, we repeated in the most binding -and solemn manner--on no account were we to let go of each other's -hands. This compact made and provided, we advanced towards the gallery, -Victor feeling the edge and point of his weapon with an appearance of -confidence that my own beating heart told me must be put on for the -occasion, and would vanish at the first appearance of danger. - -And now the green door is passed and we are in the gallery; a faint -light through the stained windows only serves to show its extent and -general gloom, whilst its corners and abutments are black as a wolfs -mouth. Not a servant in the castle would willingly traverse this -gallery after dark, and we two children feel that we are at last alone, -and cut off from all hopes of assistance or rescue. But the Breviary -lies on the table at the far end, and, dreading the very sound of our -own footsteps, we steal quietly on. All at once Victor stops short. - -"What is that?" says he, in trembling accents. - -The question alone takes away my breath, and I feel the drops break out -on my lips and forehead. We stop simultaneously and listen. Encouraged -by the silence, we creep on, and for an instant I experience that vague -tumultuous feeling of excitement which is almost akin to pleasure. But -hark!--a heavy breath!!--a groan!!! My hair stands on end, and Victor's -hand clasps mine like a vice. I dare scarce turn my head towards the -sound,--it comes from that far corner. There it is! A dark object in -the deepest gloom of that recess seems crouching for a spring. "The -ghost!--the ghost!!" I exclaim, losing all power of self-command in an -agony of fear. "The dog!--the dog!!" shrieks Victor; and away we scour -hard as our legs can carry us, forgetful of our solemn agreements and -high resolves, forgetful of all but that safety lies before, and terror -of the ghastliest description behind; away we scour, Victor leaving his -sword where he dropped it at the first alarm, through the green door, -down the oak staircase, across the hall, nor stop till we reach the -banqueting-room, with its reassuring faces and its lights, cheering -beyond measure by contrast with the gloom from which we have escaped. - -What shouts of laughter met us as we approached the table. "Well, -Victor, where's the Breviary?" said the Count. "What! my boy, was -Nature too strong for you in the dark, with nobody looking on?" asked -the General. "See! he has lost his sword," laughed another. "And the -little Englander,--he, too, was panic-struck," remarked the fourth. I -shrank from them all and took refuge at my father's side. "Vere, I am -ashamed of you," was all he said; but the words sank deep into my heart, -and I bowed my head with a feeling of burning shame, that I had -disgraced myself in my father's eyes for ever. We were sent to bed, and -I shared Victor's nursery, under the joint charge of Nettich and his own -attendant; but, do what I would, I could not sleep. There was a stain -upon my character in the eyes of the one I loved best on earth, and I -could not bear it. Though so quiet and undemonstrative, I was a child -of strong attachments. I perfectly idolised my father, and now he was -ashamed of me;--the words seemed to burn in my little heart. I tossed -and tumbled and fretted myself into a fever, aggravated by the sounding -snores of Nettich and the other nurse, who slept as only nurses can. - -At last I could bear it no longer. I sat up in bed and peered -stealthily round. All were hushed in sleep. I determined to do or die. -Yes, I would go to the gallery; I would fetch the Breviary and lay it on -my father's table before he awoke. If I succeeded, I should recover his -good opinion; if I encountered the phantom dog, why, he could but kill -me, after all. I would wake Victor, and we would go together;--or, -no,--I would take the whole peril, and have all the glory of the -exploit, myself. I thought it over every way. At last my mind was made -up; my naked feet were on the floor; I stole from the nursery; I -threaded the dark passages; I reached the gallery; a dim light was -shining at the far end, and I could hear earnest voices conversing in a -low, guarded tone. Half-frightened and altogether confused, I stopped -and listened. - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - FATHER AND SON - - -The Count's old steward has seen all go to rest in the castle; the lords -have left the banqueting-room, and the servants, who have been making -merry in the hall, are long ere this sound asleep. It is the steward's -custom to see all safe before he lights his lamp and retires to rest; -but to-night he shades it carefully with a wrinkled hand that trembles -strangely, and his white face peers into the darkness, as though he were -about some deed of shame. He steals into the Ghost's Gallery, and creeps -silently to the farther end. There is a dark object muffled in a cloak -in the gloomiest corner, and the light from the steward's lamp reveals a -fine young man, sleeping with that thorough abandonment which is only -observable in those who are completely outwearied and overdone. It is -some minutes ere the old man can wake him. - -"My boy!" says he; "my boy, it is time for us to part. Hard, hard is it -to be robbed of my son--robbed----" and the old man checks himself as -though the word recalled some painful associations. - -"Ay, father," was the reply, "you know our old Croatian proverb, 'He who -steals is but a borrower.' Nevertheless, I do not wish the Austrians to -'borrow' me, in case I should never be returned; and it is unmannerly -for the lieutenant to occupy the same quarters as the general. I must -be off before dawn; but surely it cannot be midnight yet." - -"In less than an hour the day will break, my son. I have concealed you -here because not a servant of the household dare set foot in the Ghost's -Gallery till daylight, and you are safe; but twenty-four more hours must -see you on the Danube, and you must come here no more. Oh, my boy! my -boy!--lost to save me!--dishonoured that I might not be disgraced!--my -boy! my boy!"--and the old man burst into a passion of weeping that -seemed to convulse his very frame with agony. - -The son had more energy and self-command; his voice did not even shake -as he soothed and quieted the old man with a protecting fondness like -that of a parent for a child. "My father," said he, "there is no -dishonour where there is no guilt. My first duty is to you, and were it -to do again, I would do it. What? it was but a momentary qualm and a -snatch at the box; and _now_ you are safe. Father, I shall come back -some day, and offer you a home. Fear not for me. I have it _here_ in my -breast, the stuff of which men make fortunes. I can rely upon myself. -I can obey orders; and, father, when others are bewildered and confused, -I can _command_. I feel it; I know it. Let me but get clear of the -'Eagle's' talons, and fear not for me, dear father, I shall see you -again, and we will be prosperous and happy yet. But, how to get -away?--have you thought of a plan? Can I get a good horse here? Does -the Count know I am in trouble, and will he help me? Tell me all, -father, and I shall see my own way, I will answer for it." - -"My gallant boy!" said the steward, despite of himself moved to -admiration by the self-reliant bearing of his son; "there is but one -chance; for the Count could not but hand you over to Wallenstein if he -knew you were in the castle, and then it would be a pleasant jest, and -the nearest tree. The General is a jovial comrade and a good-humoured -acquaintance; but, as a matter of duty, he would hang his own son and go -to dinner afterwards with an appetite none the worse. No, no. 'Trust -to an Austrian's mercy and confess yourself!' I have a better plan than -that. The Zingynies are in the village; they held their merrymaking -here yesterday. I saw their Queen last night after you arrived. I have -arranged it all with her. A gipsy's dress, a dyed skin, and the middle -of the troop; not an Austrian soldier in Hungary that will detect you -then. Banishment is better than death. Oh, my boy! my boy!" and once -more the old man gave way and wept. - -"Forward, then, father!" said the young man, whom I now recognised as my -travelling acquaintance; "there is no time to lose now. How can we get -out of the castle without alarming the household? I leave all to you -now; it will be my turn some day." And as he spoke he rose from the -steps on which he had been lying when his recumbent form had so alarmed -Victor and myself, and accompanied his father down a winding staircase -that seemed let into the massive wall of the old building. My curiosity -was fearfully excited. I would have given all my playthings to follow -them. I crept stealthily on, naked feet and all; but I was not close -enough behind, and the door shut quietly with a spring just as my hand -was upon it, leaving me alone in the Ghost's Gallery. I was not the -least frightened now. I forgot all about ghosts and Breviaries, and -stole back to my nursery and my bed, my little head completely filled -with a medley of stewards and soldiers and gipsies, and Austrian -generals and military executions, and phantom dogs and secret -staircases, and all the most unlikely incidents that crowd together in -that busy organ--a child's brain. - - - - - CHAPTER V - - THE ZINGYNIES - - -The morning sun smiles upon a motley troop journeying towards the -Danube. Two or three lithe, supple urchins, bounding and dancing along -with half-naked bodies, and bright black eyes shining through knotted -elf-locks, form the advanced guard. Half-a-dozen donkeys seem to carry -the whole property of the tribe. The main body consists of sinewy, -active-looking men, and strikingly handsome girls, all walking with the -free, graceful air and elastic gait peculiar to those whose lives are -passed entirely in active exercise, under no roof but that of heaven. -Dark-browed women in the very meridian of beauty bring up the rear, -dragging or carrying a race of swarthy progeny, all alike distinguished -for the sparkling eyes and raven hair, which, with a cunning nothing can -overreach, and a nature nothing can tame, seem to be the peculiar -inheritance of the gipsy. Their costume is striking, not to say -grotesque. Some of the girls, and all the matrons, bind their brows -with various coloured handkerchiefs, which form a very picturesque and -not unbecoming head-gear; whilst in a few instances coins even of gold -are strung amongst the jetty locks of the Zingynie beauties. The men -are not so particular in their attire. One sinewy fellow wears only a -goatskin shirt and a string of beads round his neck, but the generality -are clad in the coarse cloth of the country, much tattered, and bearing -evident symptoms of weather and wear. The little mischievous urchins -who are clinging round their mothers' necks, or dragging back from their -mothers' hands, and holding on to their mothers' skirts, are almost -naked. Small heads and hands and feet, all the marks of what we are -accustomed to term high birth, are hereditary among the gipsies; and we -doubt if the Queen of the South herself was a more queenly-looking -personage than the dame now marching in the midst of the throng, and -conversing earnestly with her companion, a resolute-looking man scarce -entering upon the prime of life, with a gipsy complexion, but a bearing -in which it is not difficult to recognise the soldier. He is talking to -his protectress--for such she is--with a military frankness and -vivacity, which even to that royal personage, accustomed though she be -to exact all the respect due to her rank, appear by no means -displeasing. The lady is verging on the autumn of her charms (their -summer must have been scorching indeed!) and though a masculine beauty, -is a beauty nevertheless. Black-browed is she, and deep-coloured, with -eyes of fire, and locks of jet, even now untinged with grey. Straight -and regular are her features, and the wide mouth, with its strong, even -dazzling teeth, betokens an energy and force of will which would do -credit to the other sex. She has the face of a woman that would dare -much, labour much, everything but _love_ much. She ought to be a queen, -and she is one, none the less despotic for ruling over a tribe of -gipsies instead of a civilised community. - -"None dispute my word here," says she, "and my word is pledged to bring -you to the Danube. Let me see a soldier of them all lay a hand upon -you, and you shall see the gipsy brood show their teeth. A long knife -is no bad weapon at close quarters. When you have got to the top of the -wheel you will remember me!" - -The soldier laughed, and lightly replied, "Yours are the sort of eyes -one does not easily forget, mother. I wish I were a prince of the blood -in your nation. As I am situated now I can only be dazzled by so much -beauty, and go my ways." - -The woman checked him sternly, almost savagely, though a few minutes -before she had been listening, half amused, to his gay and not very -respectful conversation. - -"Hush!" she said, "trifler. Once more I say, when the wheel has turned, -remember me. Give me your hand; I can read it plainer so." - -"What, mother?" laughed out her companion. "Every gipsy can tell -fortunes; mine has been told many a time, but it never came true." - -She was studying the lines on his palm with earnest attention. She -raised her dark eyes angrily to his face. - -"Blind! blind!" she answered, in a low, eager tone. "The best of you -cannot see a yard upon your way. Look at that white road, winding and -winding many a mile before us upon the plain. Because it is flat and -soft and smooth as far as we can see, will there be no hills on our -journey, no rocks to cut our feet--no thorns to tear our limbs? Can you -see the Danube rolling on far, far before us? Can you see the river you -will have to cross some day, or can you tell me where it leads? I have -the map of our journey here in my brain; I have the map of your career -here on your hand. Once more I say, when the chiefs are in council, and -the hosts are melting like snow before the sun, and the earth quakes, -and the heavens are filled with thunder, and the shower that falls -scorches and crushes and blasts--remember me! I follow the line of -wealth: Man of gold! spoil on; here a horse, there a diamond; hundreds -to uphold the right, thousands to spare the wrong; both hands full, and -broad lands near a city of palaces, and a king's favour, and a nation of -slaves beneath thy foot. I follow the line of pleasure: Costly amber; -rich embroidery; dark eyes melting for the Croat; glances unveiled for -the shaven head, many and loving and beautiful; a garland of roses, all -for one--rose by rose plucked and withered and thrown away; one tender -bud remaining; cherish it till it blows, and wear it till it dies. I -follow the line of blood: it leads towards the rising sun--charging -squadrons with lances in rest, and a wild shout in a strange tongue; and -the dead wrapped in grey, with charm and amulet that were powerless to -save; and hosts of many nations gathered by the sea--pestilence, famine, -despair, and victory. Rising on the whirlwind, chief among chiefs, the -honoured of leaders, the counsellor of princes--remember me! But ha! -the line is crossed. Beware! trust not the sons of the adopted land; -when the lily is on thy breast, beware of the dusky shadow on the wall; -beware and remember me!" - -The gipsy stopped, and clung to him exhausted. For a few paces she was -unable to support herself; the prophetic mood past, there was a -reaction, and all her powers seemed to fail her at once; but her -companion walked on in silence. The eagerness of the Pythoness had -impressed even his strong, practical nature, and he seemed himself to -look into futurity as he muttered, "If man can win it, I will." - -The gipsies travelled but slowly; and although the sun was already high, -they had not yet placed many miles between the fugitive and the castle. -This, however, was of no great importance. His disguise was so -complete, that few would have recognised in the tattered, swarthy -vagrant, the smart, soldier-like traveller who had arrived the previous -evening at Edeldorf. From the conversation I had overheard in the -Ghost's Gallery, I was alone in the secret, which, strange to say, I -forbore to confide even to my friend Victor. But I could not forget the -steward and his son; it was my first glimpse into the romance of real -life, and I could not help feeling a painful interest in his fortunes, -and an eager desire to see him at least safe off with his motley -company. I was rejoiced, therefore, at Victor's early proposal, made -the very instant we had swallowed our breakfasts, that we should take a -ride; and notwithstanding my misgivings about a strange pony, for I was -always timid on horseback, I willingly accepted his offer of a mount, -and jumped into the saddle almost as readily as my little companion, a -true Hungarian, with whom, - - Like Mad Tom, the chiefest care - Was horse to ride and weapon wear. - - -Of course, Victor had a complete establishment of ponies belonging to -himself; and equally of course, he had detailed to me at great length -their several merits and peculiarities, with an authentic biography of -his favourite--a stiff little chestnut, rejoicing in the name of -"Gold-kind," which, signifying as it does "the golden-child," or -darling, he seemed to think an exceedingly happy allusion to the -chestnut skin and endearing qualities of his treasure. - -Fortunately, my pony was very quiet; and although, when mounted, my -playfellow went off at score, we were soon some miles from Edeldorf, -without any event occurring to upset my own equilibrium or the sobriety -of my steed. Equally fortunately, we took the road by which the gipsies -had travelled. Ere long, we overtook the cavalcade as it wound slowly -along the plain. Heads were bared to Victor, and blessings called down -upon the family of De Rohan; for the old Count was at all times a friend -to the friendless, and a refuge to the poor. - -"Good luck to you, young Count! shall I tell your fortune?" said one. - -"Little, honourable cavalier, give me your hand, and cross it with a -'zwantziger,'" said another. - -"Be silent, children, and let me speak to the young De Rohan," said the -gipsy queen; and she laid her hand upon his bridle, and fairly brought -Gold-kind to a halt. - -Victor looked half afraid, although he began to laugh. - -"Let me go," said he, tugging vigorously at his reins; "papa desired me -not to have my fortune told." - -"Not by a common Zingynie," urged the queen, archly; "but I am the -mother of all these. My pretty boy, I was at your christening, and have -held you in my arms many a time. Let me tell your happy fortune." - -Victor began to relent. "If Vere will have his told first, I will," -said he, turning half bashfully, half eagerly to me. - -I proffered my hand readily to the gipsy, and crossed it with one of the -two pieces of silver which constituted the whole of my worldly wealth. -The gipsy laughed, and began to prophesy in German. There are some -events a child never forgets; and I remember every word she said as well -as if it had been spoken yesterday. - -"Over the sea, and again over the sea; thou shalt know grief and -hardship and losses, and the dove shall be driven from its nest. And -the dove's heart shall become like the eagle's, that flies alone, and -fleshes her beak in the slain. Beat on, though the poor wings be bruised -by the tempest, and the breast be sore, and the heart sink; beat on -against the wind, and seek no shelter till thou find thy resting-place -at last. The time will come--only beat on." - -The woman laughed as she spoke; but there was a kindly tone in her voice -and a pitying look in her bright eyes that went straight to my heart. -Many a time since, in life, when the storm has indeed been boisterous -and the wings so weary, have I thought of those words of encouragement, -"The time will come--beat on." - -It was now Victor's turn, and he crossed his palm with a golden ducat -ere he presented it to the sibyl. This was of itself sufficient to -insure him a magnificent future; and as the queen perused the lines on -his soft little hand, with its pink fingers, she indulged in -anticipations of magnificence proportioned to the handsome donation of -the child. - -"Thou shalt be a 'De Rohan,' my darling, and I can promise thee no -brighter lot,--broad acres, and blessings from the poor, and horses, and -wealth, and honours. And the sword shall spare thee, and the battle -turn aside to let thee pass. And thou shalt wed a fair bride with dark -eyes and a queenly brow; but beware of St. Hubert's Day. Birth and -burial, birth and burial--beware of St. Hubert's Day." - -"But I want to be a soldier," exclaimed Victor, who seemed much -disappointed at the future which was prognosticated for him; "the De -Rohans were always soldiers. Mother, can't you make out I shall be a -soldier?" still holding the little hand open. - -"Farewell, my children," was the only answer vouchsafed by the -prophetess. "I can only read, I cannot write: farewell." And setting -the troop in order, she motioned to them to continue their march without -further delay. - -I took advantage of the movement to press near my acquaintance of the -day before, whom I had not failed to recognise in his gipsy garb. Poor -fellow, my childish heart bled for him, and, in a happy moment, I -bethought me of my remaining bit of silver. I stooped from my pony and -kissed his forehead, while I squeezed the coin into his hand without a -word. The tears came into the deserter's eyes. "God bless you, little -man! I shall never forget you," was all he said; but I observed that he -bit the coin with his large, strong teeth till it was nearly double, and -then placed it carefully in his bosom. We turned our ponies, and were -soon out of sight; but I never breathed a syllable to Victor about the -fugitive, or the steward, or the Ghost's Gallery, for two whole days. -Human nature could keep the secret no longer. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - SCHOOL - - -In one of the pleasantest valleys of sweet Somersetshire stands a large -red-brick house that bears unmistakably impressed on its exterior the -title "School." You would not take it for a "hall," or an hospital, or -an almshouse, or anything in the world but an institution for the rising -generation, in which the ways of the wide world are so successfully -imitated that, in the qualities of foresight, cunning, duplicity, and -general selfishness, the boy may indeed be said to be "father to the -man." The house stands on a slope towards the south, with a trim lawn -and carefully-kept gravel drive, leading to a front door, of which the -steps are always clean and the handles always bright. How a ring at -that door-bell used to bring all our hearts into our mouths. Forty boys -were we, sitting grudgingly over our lessons on the bright summer -forenoons, and not one of us but thought that ring might possibly -announce a "something" for him from "home." Home! what was there in the -word, that it should call up such visions of happiness, that it should -create such a longing, sickening desire to have the wings of a dove and -flee away, that it should make the present such a blank and comfortless -reality? Why do we persist in sending our children so early to school? -A little boy, with all his affections developing themselves, loving and -playful and happy, not ashamed to be fond of his sisters, and thinking -mamma all that is beautiful and graceful and good, is to be torn from -that home which is to him an earthly Paradise, and transferred to a -place of which we had better not ask the urchin his own private opinion. -We appeal to every mother--and it is a mother who is best capable of -judging for a child--whether her darling returns to her improved in her -eyes after his first half-year at school. She looks in vain for the -pliant, affectionate disposition that a word from her used to be -capable, of moulding at will, and finds instead a stubborn -self-sufficient spirit that has been called forth by harsh treatment and -intercourse with the mimic world of boys; more selfish and more -conventional, because less characteristic than that of men. He is -impatient of her tenderness now, nay, half ashamed to return it. -Already he aspires to be a man, in his own eyes, and thinks it manly to -make light of those affections and endearments by which he once set such -store. The mother is no longer all in all in his heart, her empire is -divided and weakened, soon it will be swept away, and she sighs for the -white-frock days when her child was fondly and entirely her own. Now, I -cannot help thinking the longer these days last the better. Anxious -parent, what do you wish your boy to become? A successful man in after -life?--then rear him tenderly and carefully at first. You would not bit -a colt at two years old; be not less patient with your own flesh and -blood. Nature is the best guide, you may depend. Leave him to the women -till his strength is established and his courage high, and when the -metal has assumed shape and consistency, to the forge with it as soon as -you will. Hardship, buffetings, adversity, all these are good for the -_youth_, but, for Heaven's sake, spare the _child_. - -Forty boys are droning away at their tasks on a bright sunshiny morning -in June, and I am sitting at an old oak desk, begrimed and splashed with -the inkshed of many generations, and hacked by the knives of idler after -idler for the last fifty years. I have yet to learn by heart some two -score lines from the Æneid. How I hate Virgil whilst I bend over those -dog's-eared leaves and that uncomfortable desk. How I envy the white -butterfly of which I have just got a glimpse as he soars away into the -blue sky--for no terrestrial objects are visible from our schoolroom -window to distract our attention and interfere with our labours. I have -already accompanied him in fancy over the lawn, and the garden, and the -high white-thorn fence into the meadow beyond,--how well I know the deep -glades of that copse for which he is making; how I wish I was on my back -in its shadow now. Never mind, to-day is a half-holiday, and this -afternoon I will spend somehow in a dear delicious ramble through the -fairy-land of "out of bounds." The rap of our master's cane against his -desk--a gentlemanlike method of awakening attention and asserting -authority--startles me from my day-dream. "March," for we drop the Mr. -prefixed, in speaking of our pedagogue, "March is a bit of a Tartar, and -I tremble for the result." - -"Egerton to come up." - -Egerton goes up accordingly, with many misgivings, and embarks, like a -desperate man, on the loathed _infandum Regina jubes_. - -The result may be gathered from March's observations as he returns me -the book. - -"Not a line correct, sir; stand down, sir; the finest passage of the -poet shamefully mangled and defaced; it is a perfect disgrace to -Everdon. Remain in till five, sir; and repeat the whole lesson to Mr. -Manners." - -"Please, sir, I tried to learn it, sir; indeed I did, sir." - -"Don't tell me, sir; _tried_ to learn it, indeed. If it had been French -or German, or--or any of these useless branches of learning, you would -have had it by heart fast enough; but Latin, sir, Latin is the -foundation of a gentleman's education; Latin you were sent here to -acquire, and Latin, sir" (with an astounding rap on the desk), "you -_shall_ learn, or I'll know the reason why." - -I may remark that March, though an excellent scholar, professed utter -contempt for all but the dead languages. - -I determined to make one more effort to save my half-holiday. - -"Please, sir, if I might look over it once more, I could say it when the -second class goes down; please, sir, won't you give me another chance?" - -March was not, in schoolboy parlance, "half a bad fellow," and he did -give me another chance, and I came up to him once more at the conclusion -of school, having repeated the whole forty lines to myself without -missing a word; but, alas! when I stood again on the step which led up -to the dreaded desk, and gave away the book into those uncompromising -hands, and heard that stern voice with its "Now, sir, begin," my -intellects forsook me altogether, and while the floor seemed to rock -under me, I made such blunders and confusion of the chief's oration to -the love-sick queen, as drove March to the extremity of that very short -tether which he was pleased to call his "patience," and drew upon myself -the dreaded condemnation I had fought so hard to escape. - -"Remain in, sir, till perfect, and repeat to Mr. Manners, without a -mistake--Mr. Manners, you will be kind enough to see, _without a -mistake_! Boys!" (with another rap of the cane) "school's up." March -locks his desk with a bang, and retires. Mr. Manners puts on his hat. -Forty boys burst instantaneously into tumultuous uproar, forty pairs of -feet scuffle along the dusty boards, forty voices break into song and -jest and glee, forty spirits are emancipated from the prison-house into -freedom and air and sunshine--forty, all save one. - -So again I turn to the _infandum Eegina Jubes_, and sit me down and cry. - -I had gone late to school, but I was a backward child in everything save -my proficiency in modern languages. I had never known a mother, and the -little education I had acquired was picked up in a desultory manner here -and there during my travels with my father, and afterwards in a gloomy -old library at Alton Grange, his own place in the same county as Mr. -March's school. My father had remained abroad till his affairs made it -imperative that he should return to England, and for some years we lived -in seclusion at Alton, with an establishment that even my boyish -penetration could discover was reduced to the narrowest possible limits. -I think this was the idlest period of my life. I did no lessons, unless -my father's endeavour to teach me painting, an art that I showed year -after year less inclination to master, could be called so. I had but -few ideas, yet they were very dear ones. I adored my father; on him I -lavished all the love that would have been a mother's right; and having -no other relations--none in the world that I cared for, or that cared -for me, even nurse Nettich having remained in Hungary--my father was -all-in-all. I used to wait at his door of a morning to hear him wake, -and go away quite satisfied without letting him know. I used to watch -him for miles when he rode out, and walk any distance to meet him on his -way home. To please him I would even mount a quiet pony that he had -bought on purpose for me, and dissemble my terrors because I saw they -annoyed my kind father. I was a very shy, timid, and awkward boy, -shrinking from strangers with a fear that was positively painful, and -liking nothing so well as a huge arm-chair in the gloomy oak wainscoted -library, where I would sit by the hour reading old poetry, old plays, -old novels, and wandering about till I lost myself in a world of my own -creating, full of beauty and romance, and all that ideal life which we -must perforce call nonsense, but which, were it reality, would make this -earth a heaven. Such was a bad course of training for a boy whose -disposition was naturally too dreamy and imaginative, too deficient in -energy and practical good sense. Had it gone on I must have become a -madman; what is it but madness to live in a world of our own? I shall -never forget the break-up of my dreams, the beginning, to me, of hard -practical life. - -I was coiled up in my favourite attitude, buried in the depths of a huge -arm-chair in the library, and devouring with all my senses and all my -soul the pages of the _Morte d'Arthur_, that most voluminous and least -instructive of romances, but one for which, to my shame be it said, I -confess to this day a sneaking kindness. I was gazing on Queen -Guenever, as I pictured her to myself, in scarlet and ermine and pearls, -with raven hair plaited over her queenly brow, and soft violet eyes, -looking kindly down on mailed Sir Launcelot at her feet. I was holding -Arthur's helmet in the forest, as the frank, handsome, stalwart monarch -bent over a sparkling rill and cooled his sunburnt cheek, and laved his -chestnut beard, whilst the sunbeams flickered through the green leaves -and played upon his gleaming corslet and his armour of proof. I was -feasting at Camelot with the Knights of the Round Table, jesting with -Sir Dinadam, discussing grave subjects of high import with Sir Gawain, -or breaking a lance in knightly courtesy with Sir Tristram and Sir Bore; -in short, I was a child at a spectacle, but the spectacle came and went, -and grew more and more gorgeous at will. In the midst of my dreams in -walked my father, and sat down opposite the old arm-chair. - -"Vere," said he, "you must go to school." - -The announcement took away my breath: I had never, in my wildest -moments, contemplated such a calamity. - -"To school, papa; and when?" I mustered up courage to ask, clinging like -a convict to the hope of a reprieve. - -"The first of the month, my boy," answered my father, rather bullying -himself into firmness, for I fancy he hated the separation as much as I -did; "Mr. March writes me that his scholars will reunite on the first of -next month, and he has a vacancy for you. We must make a man of you, -Vere; and young De Rohan, your Hungarian friend, is going there too. -You will have lots of playfellows, and get on very well, I have no -doubt; and Everdon is not so far from here, and--and--you will be very -comfortable, I trust; but I am loth to part with you, my dear, and -that's the truth." - -I felt as if I could have endured martyrdom when my father made this -acknowledgment. I could do anything if I was only coaxed and pitied a -little; and when I saw he was so unhappy at the idea of our separation, -I resolved that no word or look of mine should add to his discomfort, -although I felt my heart breaking at the thoughts of bidding him -good-bye and leaving the Grange, with its quiet regularity and peaceful -associations, for the noise and bustle and discipline of a large school. -Queen Guenever and Sir Launcelot faded hopelessly from my mental vision, -and in their places rose up stern forms of harsh taskmasters and -satirical playfellows, early hours, regular discipline, Latin and Greek, -and, worst of all, a continual bustle and a life in a crowd. - -There were two peculiarities in my boyish character which, more than any -others, unfitted me for battling with the world. I had a morbid dread -of ridicule, which made me painfully shy of strangers. I have on many -an occasion stood with my hand on the lock of a door, dreading to enter -the room in which I heard strange voices, and then, plunging in with a -desperate effort, have retired again as abruptly, covered with -confusion, and so nervous as to create in the minds of the astonished -guests a very natural doubt as to my mental sanity. The other -peculiarity was an intense love of solitude. I was quite happy with my -father, but if I could not enjoy his society, I preferred my own to that -of any other mortal. I would take long walks by myself--I would sit for -hours and read by myself--I had a bedroom of my own, into which I hated -even a servant to set foot--and perhaps the one thing I dreaded more -than all besides in my future life was, that I should never, never, be -_alone_. - -How I prized the last few days I spent at home; how I gazed on all the -well-known objects as if I should never see them again; how the very -chairs and tables seemed to bid me good-bye like old familiar friends. -I had none of the lively anticipations which most boys cherish of the -manliness and independence arising from a school-life; no long vista of -cricket and football, and fame in their own little world, with -increasing strength and stature, to end in a tailed coat, and even -whiskers! No, I hated the idea of the whole thing. I expected to be -miserable at Everdon, and, I freely confess, was not disappointed. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - PLAY - - -Dinner was over, and play-time begun for all but me, and again I turned -to the _infandum Regina jubes_, and sat me down to cry. - -A kind hand, grimed with ink, was laid on my shoulder, a pair of soft -blue eyes looked into my face, and Victor de Rohan, my former -playfellow, my present fast friend and declared "chum," sat down on the -form beside me, and endeavoured to console me in distress. - -"I'll help you, Egerton," said the warm-hearted lad; "say it to me; -March is a beast, but Manners is a good fellow; Manners will hear you -now, and we shall have our half-holiday after all." - -"I can't, I can't," was my desponding reply. "Manners won't hear me, I -know, till I am perfect, and I never can learn this stupid sing-song -story. How I hate Queen Dido--how I hate Virgil. You should read about -Guenever, Victor, and King Arthur! I'll tell you about them this -afternoon;" and the tears came again into my eyes as I remembered there -was no afternoon for me. - -"Try once more," said Victor; "I'll get Manners to hear you; leave it to -me; I know how to do it. I'll ask Ropsley." And Victor was off into -the playground ere I was aware, in search of this valuable auxiliary. - -Now, Ropsley was the mainspring round which turned the whole of our -little world at Everdon. If an excuse for a holiday could be found, -Ropsley was entreated to ask the desired favour of March. If a quarrel -had to be adjusted, either in the usual course of ordeal by battle, or -the less decisive method of arbitration, Ropsley was always invited to -see fair play. He was the king of our little community. It was -whispered that he could spar better than Manners, and construe better -than March: he was certainly a more perfect linguist--as indeed I could -vouch for from my own knowledge--than Schwartz, who came twice a week to -teach us a rich German-French. We saw his boots were made by Hoby, and -we felt his coats could only be the work of Stulz, for in those days -Poole was not, and we were perfectly willing to believe that he wore a -scarlet hunting-coat in the Christmas holidays, and had visiting cards -of his own. In person he was tall and slim, with a pale complexion, and -waving, soft brown hair: without being handsome, he was -distinguished-looking; and even as a boy, I have seen strangers turn -round and ask who he was; but the peculiar feature of his countenance -was his light grey eye, veiled with long black eyelashes. It never -seemed to kindle or to waver or to wink; it was always the same, hard, -penetrating, and unmoved; it never smiled, though the rest of his -features would laugh heartily enough, and it certainly never wept. Even -in boyhood it was the eye of a cool, calculating, wary man. He knew the -secrets of every boy in the school, but no one ever dreamt of -cross-questioning Ropsley. We believed he only stayed at Everdon as a -favour to March, who was immensely proud of his pupil's gentlemanlike -manners and appearance, as well as of his scholarly proficiency, -although no one ever saw him study, and we always expected Ropsley was -"going to leave this half." We should not have been the least surprised -to hear he had been sent for by the Sovereign, and created a peer of the -realm on the spot; with all our various opinions, we were unanimous in -one creed--that nothing was impossible for Ropsley, and he need only -try, to succeed. For myself, I was dreadfully afraid of this luminary, -and looked up to him with feelings of veneration which amounted to -positive awe. - -Not so Victor; the young Hungarian feared, I believe, nothing on earth, -and _respected_ but little. He was the only boy in the school who, -despite the difference of age, would talk with Ropsley upon equal terms; -and if anything could have added to the admiration with which we -regarded the latter, it would have been the accurate knowledge he -displayed of De Rohan's family, their history, their place in Hungary, -all their belongings, as if he himself had been familiar with Edeldorf -from boyhood. But so it was with everything; Ropsley knew all about -people in general better than they did themselves. - -Victor rushed back triumphantly into the schoolroom, where I still sat -desponding at my desk, and Ropsley followed him. - -"What's the matter, Vere?" he asked, in a patronising tone, and calling -me by my Christian name, which I esteemed a great compliment. "What's -the matter?" he repeated; "forty lines of Virgil to say; come, that's -not much." - -"But I _can't_ learn it," I urged. "You must think me very stupid; and -if it was French, or German, or English, I should not mind twice the -quantity, but I cannot learn Latin, and it's no use trying." - -The older boy sneered; it seemed so easy to him with his powerful mind -to get forty lines of hexameters by heart. I believe he could have -repeated the whole _Æneid_ without book from beginning to end. - -"Do you want to go out to-day, Vere?" said he. - -I clasped my hands in supplication, as I replied, "Oh! I would give -anything, _anything_, to get away from this horrid schoolroom, and -'shirk out' with Victor and Bold." - -The latter, be it observed, was a dog in whose society I took great -delight, and whom I kept in the village, at an outlay of one shilling -per week, much to the detriment of my personal fortune. - -"Very well," said the great man; "come with me to Manners, and bring -your book with you." - -So I followed my deliverer into the playground, with the _infandum -Regina_ still weighing heavily on my soul. - -Manners, the usher, was playing cricket with some dozen of the bigger -boys, and was in the act of "going for a sixer." His coat and waistcoat -were off, and his shirt-sleeves tucked up, disclosing his manly arms -bared to the elbow; and Manners was in his glory, for, notwithstanding -the beard upon his chin, our usher was as very a boy at heart as the -youngest urchin in the lower class. A dandy, too, was Manners, and a -wight of an imaginative turn of mind, which chiefly developed itself in -the harmless form of bright visions for the future, teeming with -romantic adventures, of which he was himself to be the hero. His past -he seldom dwelt upon. His aspirations were military--his ideas -extravagant. He was great on the Peninsula and Lord Anglesey at -Waterloo; and had patent boxes in his high-heeled boots that only -required the addition of heavy clanking spurs to complete the illusion -that Mr. Manners ought to be a cavalry officer. Of his riding he spoke -largely; but his proficiency in this exercise we had no means of -ascertaining. There were two things, however, on which Manners prided -himself, and which were a source of intense amusement to the urchins by -whom he was surrounded:--these were, his personal strength, and his -whiskers; the former quality was encouraged to develop itself by earnest -application to all manly sports and exercises; the latter ornaments were -cultivated and enriched with every description of "nutrifier," -"regenerator," and "unguent" known to the hairdresser or the advertiser. -Alas! without effect proportioned to the perseverance displayed; two -small patches of fluff under the jaw-bones, that showed to greatest -advantage by candlelight, being the only evidence of so much painstaking -and cultivation thrown away. Of his muscular prowess, however, it -behoved us to speak with reverence. Was it not on record in the annals -of the school that when the "King of Naples," our dissipated pieman, -endeavoured to justify by force an act of dishonesty by which he had -done Timmins minor out of half-a-crown, Manners stripped at once to his -shirt-sleeves, and "went in" at the Monarch with all the vigour and -activity of some three-and-twenty summers against three-score? The -Monarch, a truculent old ruffian, with a red neckcloth, half-boots, and -one eye, fought gallantly for a few rounds, and was rather getting the -best of it, when, somewhat unaccountably, he gave in, leaving the usher -master of the field. Ropsley, who gave his friend a knee, _secundum -artem_, and urged him, with frequent injunctions, to "fight high," -attributed this easy victory to the forbearance of their antagonist, who -had an eye to future trade and mercantile profits; but Manners, whose -account of the battle I have heard more than once, always scouted this -view of the transaction. - -"He went down, sir, as if he was shot," he would say, doubling his arm, -and showing the muscles standing out in bold relief. "Few men have the -biceps so well developed as mine, and he went down _as if he was shot_. -If I had hit him as hard as I could, sir, I _must_ have killed him!" - -Our usher was a good-natured fellow, notwithstanding. - -"I'll hear you in ten minutes, Egerton," said he, "when I have had my -innings;" and forthwith he stretched himself into attitude, and prepared -to strike. - -"Better give me your bat," remarked Ropsley, who was too lazy to play -cricket in a regular manner. Of course, Manners consented; nobody ever -refused Ropsley anything; and in ten minutes' time I had repeated the -_infandum Regina_, and Ropsley had added some dozen masterly hits to the -usher's score. Ropsley always liked another man's "innings" better than -his own. - -Now the regulations at Everdon, as they were excessively strict, and -based upon the principle that Apollo should always keep the bow at the -utmost degree of tension, so were they eluded upon every available -opportunity, and set at nought and laughed at by the youngest urchins in -the school. We had an ample playground for our minor sports, and a -meadow beyond, in which we were permitted to follow the exhilarating -pastime of cricket, the share of the younger boys in that exciting -amusement being limited to a pursuit of the ball round the field, and a -prompt return of the same to their seniors, doubtless a necessary -ingredient in this noble game, but one which is not calculated to excite -enthusiastic pleasure in the youthful mind. From the playground and its -adjacent meadow it was a capital offence to absent oneself. All the -rest of Somersetshire was "out of bounds"; and to be caught "out of -bounds" was a crime for which corporal punishment was the invariable -reward. At the same time, the offence was, so to speak, "winked at." -No inquiries were made as to how we spent half-holidays between one -o'clock and seven; and many a glorious ramble we used to have during -those precious six hours in all the ecstasy of "freedom,"--a word -understood by none better than the schoolboy. A certain deference was, -however, exacted to the regulations of the establishment; by a sort of -tacit compact, it seemed to be understood that our code was so far -Spartan as to make, not the crime, but the being "found out," a -punishable offence, and boys were always supposed to take their chance. -If seen in the act of escaping, or afterwards met by any of the masters -in the surrounding country, we were liable to be flogged; and to do -March justice, we always _were_ flogged, and pretty soundly, too. Under -these circumstances, some little care and circumspection had to be -observed in starting for our rambles. Certain steps had been made in -the playground wall, where it was hidden from the house by the stem of a -fine old elm, and by dropping quietly down into an orchard beyond--an -orchard, be it observed, of which the fruit was always plucked before it -reached maturity--and then stealing along the back of a thick, high -hedge, we could get fairly away out of sight of the school windows, and -so make our escape. - -Now, on the afternoon in question we had planned an expedition in which -Victor, and I, and my dog Bold had determined to be principal -performers. Of the latter personage in the trio I must remark, that no -party of pleasure on which we embarked was ever supposed to be perfect -without his society. His original possessor was the "King of Naples," -whom I have already mentioned, and who, I conclude, stole him, as he -appeared one day tied to that personage by an old cotton handkerchief, -and looking as wobegone and unhappy as a retriever puppy of some three -months old, torn from his mamma and his brothers and sisters, and the -comfortable kennel in which he was brought up, and transferred to the -tender mercies of a drunken, poaching, dog-stealing ruffian, was likely -to feel in so false a position. The "King" brought him into our -playground on one of his tart-selling visits, as a specimen of the -rarest breed of retrievers known in the West of England. The puppy -seemed so thoroughly miserable, and looked up at me so piteously, that I -forthwith asked his price, and after a deal of haggling, and a -consultation between De Rohan and myself, I determined to become his -purchaser, at the munificent sum of one sovereign, of which ten -shillings (my all) were to be paid on the spot, and the other ten to -remain, so to speak, on mortgage upon the animal, with the further -understanding that he should be kept at the residence of the "King of -Naples," who, in consideration of the regular payment of one shilling -per week, bound himself to feed the same and complete his education in -all the canine branches of plunging, diving, fetching and carrying, on a -system of his own, which he briefly described as "fust-rate." - -With a deal of prompting from Manners, I got through my forty lines; and -he shut the book with a good-natured smile as Ropsley threw down the bat -he had been wielding so skilfully, and put on his coat. - -"Come and lunch with me at 'The Club,'" said he to Manners, whom he led -completely by the nose; "I'll give you Dutch cheese, and sherry and -soda-water, and a cigar. Hie! Vere, you ungrateful little ruffian, -where are you off to? I want you." - -I was making my escape as rapidly as possible at the mention of "The -Club," a word which we younger boys held in utter fear and detestation, -as being associated in our minds with much perilous enterprise and -gratuitous suffering. The Club consisted of an old bent tree in a -retired corner of the playground, on the trunk of which Ropsley had -caused a comfortable seat to be fashioned for his own delectation; and -here, in company with Manners and two or three senior boys, it was his -custom to sit smoking and drinking curious compounds, of which the -ingredients, being contraband, had to be fetched by us, at the risk of -corporal punishment, from the village of Everdon, an honest half-mile -journey at the least. - -Ropsley tendered a large cigar to Manners, lit one himself, settled his -long limbs comfortably on the seat, and gave me his orders. - -"One Dutch cheese, three pottles of strawberries--now attend, confound -you!--two bottles of old sherry from 'The Greyhound,'--mind, the OLD -sherry; half-a-dozen of soda-water, and a couple of pork-pies. Put the -whole into a basket; they'll give you one at the bar, if you say it's -for me, and tell them to put it down to my account. Put a clean napkin -over the basket, and if you dirty the napkin or break the bottles, I'll -break _your_ head! Now be off! Manners, I'll take your two to one he -does it without a mistake, and is back here under the five-and-twenty -minutes." - -I did not dare disobey, but I was horribly disgusted at having to employ -any portion of my half-holiday in so uncongenial a manner. I rushed -back into the schoolroom for my cap, and held a hurried consultation -with Victor as to our future proceedings. - -"He only got you off because he wanted you to 'shirk out' for him," -exclaimed my indignant chum; "it's a shame, _that_ it is. Don't go for -him, Vere; let's get out quietly, and be off to Beverley. It's the last -chance, so old 'Nap' says" (this was an abbreviation for the "King of -Naples," who was in truth a great authority both with Victor and -myself); "and it's _such_ a beautiful afternoon." - -"But what a licking I shall get from Ropsley," I interposed, with -considerable misgivings; "he's sure to say I'm an ungrateful little -beast. I don't like to be called ungrateful, Victor, and I don't like -to be called a little beast." - -"Oh, never mind the names, and a licking is soon over," replied Victor, -who learned little from his _Horace_ save the _carpe diem_ philosophy, -and who looked upon the licking with considerably more resignation than -did the probable recipient. "We shall just have time to do it, if we -start now. Come on, old fellow; be plucky for once, and come on." - -I was not proof against the temptation. The project was a long-planned -one, and I could not bear the thoughts of giving it up now. Many a time -in our rambles had we surmounted the hill that looked down upon Beverley -Manor, and viewed it from afar as a sort of unknown fairyland. What a -golden time one's boyhood was! A day at Beverley was our dream of all -that was most exciting in adventure, most voluptuous in delight; and now -"Nap" had promised to accompany us to this earthly Paradise, and show us -what he was pleased to term its "hins-an'-houts." Not all the cheeses -of Holland should prevent my having one day's liberty and enjoyment. I -weighed well the price: the certain licking, and the sarcastic abuse -which I feared even more; and I think I held my half-holiday all the -dearer for having to purchase it at such a cost. - -We were across the playground like lapwings. Ropsley, who was deep in -his cigar and a copy of _Bell's Life_, which forbidden paper he caused -Manners to take in for him surreptitiously, never dreamed that his -behests could be treated with contempt, and hardly turned his head to -look at us. We surmounted the wall with an agility born of repeated -practice; we stole along the adjacent orchard, under covert of the -well-known friendly hedge, and only breathed freely when we found -ourselves completely out of sight of the house, and swinging along the -Everdon lane at a schoolboy's jog, which, like the Highlander's, is -equivalent to any other person's gallop. No pair of carriage horses can -step together like two schoolboy "chums" who are in the constant habit -of being late in company. Little boys as we were, Victor and I could do -our five miles in the hour without much difficulty, keeping step like -clockwork, and talking the whole time. - -In five minutes we were at the wicket of a small tumble-down building, -with dilapidated windows and a ruinous thatched roof, which was in fact -the dwelling of no less a personage than the "King of Naples," but was -seldom alluded to by that worthy in more definite terms than "the old -place," or "my shop"; and this only when in a particularly confidential -mood--its existence being usually indicated by a jerk of the head -towards his blind side, which was supposed to infer proper caution, and -a decorous respect for the sanctity of private life. It was indeed one -of those edifices of which the word "tenement" seems alone to convey an -adequate description. The garden produce consisted of a ragged shirt -and a darned pair of worsted stockings, whilst a venerable buck rabbit -looked solemnly out from a hutch on one side of the doorway, and a pair -of red-eyed ferrets shed their fragrance from a rough deal box on the -other. "Nap" himself was not to be seen on a visitor's first entrance -into his habitation, but generally appeared after a mysterious delay, -from certain back settlements, of which one never discovered the exact -"whereabout." A grimy old woman, with her skirts pinned up, was -invariably washing the staircase when we called, and it was only in -obedience to her summons that "Nap" himself could be brought forward. -This dame possessed a superstitious interest in the eyes of us boys, on -account of the mysterious relationship in which she stood to "Nap." He -always addressed her as "mother"--but no boy at Everdon had yet -ascertained whether this was a generic term significant of age and sex, -an appellation of endearment to a spouse, or a tribute of filial -reverence from a son. - -"Come, 'Nap,' look alive," halloed Victor, as we rushed up the narrow -path that led from the wicket to the door, in breathless haste not to -lose the precious moments of our half-holiday. "Now, mother, where is -he?" added the lively young truant. "Time's up; 'Nap'--'Nap'!"--and the -walls echoed to Victor's rich, laughing voice, and half-foreign accent. -As usual, after an interval of a few minutes, "Nap" himself appeared at -the back door of the cottage, with a pair of greased half-boots in one -hand, and a ferret, that nestled confidingly against his cheek, in the -other. - -"Sarvice, young gen'elmen," said "Nap," wiping his mouth with the back -of his hand--"Sarvice, my lord; sarvice, Muster Egerton," repeated he, -on recognising his two stanchest patrons. "Here, Bold! Bold!--you do -know your master, sure*lie*," as Bold came rollicking forth from the -back-yard in which he lived, and testified his delight by many ungainly -gambols and puppy-like freedoms, which were responded to as warmly by -his delighted owner. My scale of affections at this period of life was -easily defined. I loved three objects in the world--viz., my father, -Victor, and Bold. I verily believe I cared for nothing on earth but -those three; and certainly my dog came in for his share of regard. -Bold, although in all the awkwardness of puppyhood, was already -beginning to show symptoms of that sagacity which afterwards developed -itself into something very few degrees inferior to reason, if indeed it -partook not of that faculty which we men are anxious to assume as solely -our own. He would already obey the slightest sign--would come to heel -at a whisper from his owner or instructor--would drag up huge stones out -of ten feet of water, with ludicrous energy and perseverance; and stand -waiting for further orders with his head on one side, and an expression -of comic intelligence on his handsome countenance that was delightfully -ridiculous. He promised to be of great size and strength; and even at -this period, when he put his forepaws on my shoulders and licked my -face, he was considerably the larger animal of the two. Such -familiarities, however, were much discouraged by "Nap." - -"If so be as you would keep a 'dawg,' real sporting and dawg-like, -master," that philosopher would observe, "let un know his distance; I -strikes 'em whenever I can reach 'em. Fondlin' of 'em only spiles -'em--same as women." - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - THE TRUANTS - - -So the day to which we had looked forward with such delight had arrived -at last. Our spirits rose as we got further and further from Everdon, -and we never stopped to take breath or to look back till we found -ourselves surmounting the last hill above Beverley Manor. By this time -we had far outstripped our friend "Nap"--that worthy deeming it -inconsistent with all his maxims ever to hurry himself. "Slow and sure, -young gentlemen," he observed soon after we started--"slow and sure wins -the day. Do'ee go on ahead, and wait for I top of Buttercup Close. I -gits on better arter a drop o' drink this hot weather. Never fear, -squire, I'll not fail ye! Bold! Bold! you go on with your master." So -"Nap" turned into the "Cat and Fiddle," and we pursued our journey -alone, not very sorry to be rid of our companion for the present; as, -notwithstanding our great admiration for his many resources, his -knowledge of animal life, his skilful method with rats, and general -manliness of character, we could not but be conscious of our own -inferiority in these branches of science, and of a certain want of -community in ideas between two young gentlemen receiving a polite -education at Everdon, and a rat-catching, dog-stealing poacher of the -worst class. - -"It's as hot as Hungary," said Victor, seating himself on a stile, and -taking off his cap to fan his handsome, heated face. "Oh, Vere, I wish -I was back in the Fatherland! Do you remember the great wood at -Edeldorf, and the boar we saw close to the ponies? And oh, Vere, how I -should like to be upon Gold-kind once again!" - -"Yes, Victor, I remember it all," I answered, as I flung myself down -among the buttercups, and turned my cheek to the cool air that came up -the valley--a breeze that blew from the distant hills to the southward, -and swept across many a mile of beauty ere it sighed amongst the woods -of Beverley, and rippled the wide surface of the mere; "I shall never -forget Edeldorf, nor my first friend, Victor. But what made you think -of Hungary just now?" - -"Why, your beautiful country," answered Victor, pointing to the -luxuriant scene below us--a scene that could exist in England only--of -rich meadows, and leafy copses, and green slopes laughing in the -sunlight, dotted with huge old standard trees, and the deep shades of -Beverley, with the white garden-wall standing out from amongst yew -hedges, and rare pines, and exotic evergreens; while the grey turrets of -the Manor House peeped and peered here and there through the giant elms -that stirred and flickered in the summer breeze. The mere was -glittering at our feet, and the distant uplands melting away into the -golden haze of summer. Child as I was, I could have cried, without -knowing why, as I sat there on the grass, drinking in beauty at every -pore. What is it that gives to all beauty, animate or inanimate, a -tinge of melancholy?--the greater the beauty, the deeper the tinge. Is -it an instinct of mortality? the "bright must fade" of the poet? a -shadowy regret for Dives, who, no more than Lazarus, can secure -enjoyment for a day? or is it a vague yearning for something more -perfect still?--a longing of the soul for the unattainable, which, more -than all the philosophy in the universe, argues the necessity of a -future state. I could not analyse my feelings. I did not then believe -that others experienced the same sensations as myself. I only knew -that, like Parson Hugh, I had "great dispositions to cry." - -"I wish I were a man, Vere," remarked Victor, as he pulled out his -knife, and began to carve a huge V on the top bar of the stile. "I -should like to be grown up now, and you too, Vere; what a life we would -lead! Let me see, I should have six horses for myself, and three--no, -four for you; and a pack of hounds, like Mr. Barker's, that we saw last -half, coming home from hunting; and two rifles, both double-barrelled. -Do you know, I hit the bull's-eye with papa's rifle, when Prince Vocqsal -was at Edeldorf, and he said I was the best shot in Hungary for my age. -Look at that crow, Vere, perching on the branch of the old hawthorn--I -could put a bullet into him from here. Oh! I wish I had papa's rifle!" - -"But should you not like to be King of Hungary, Victor?" said I, for I -admired my "chum" so ardently, that I believed him fit for any position, -however exalted. "Should you not like to be king, and ride about upon a -white horse, with a scarlet tunic and pelisse, and ostrich feathers in -your hat, bowing right and left to the ladies at the windows, with a -Hungarian body-guard clattering behind you, and the people shouting and -flinging up their caps in the street?" I saw it all in my mind's eye, -and fancied my friend the hero of the procession. Victor hesitated, and -shook his head. - -"I think I had rather be a General of Division, like Wallenstein, and -command ten thousand cavalry; or better still, Vere, ride and shoot as -well as Prince Vocqsal, and go up into the mountains after deer, and -kill bears and wolves and wild boars, and do what I like. Wouldn't I -just pack up my books, and snap my fingers at March, and leave Everdon -to-morrow, if I could take you with me. But you, Vere, if you could -have your own way, what would you be?" - -I was not long answering, for there was scarcely a day that I did not -consider the subject; but my aspirations for myself were so humble, that -I hesitated a little lest Victor should laugh at me, before I replied. - -"Oh, I will do whatever my father wishes, Victor; and I hope he will -sometimes let me go to you; but if I could do exactly what I liked, if a -fairy was at this moment to come out of that bluebell and offer me my -choice, I should ask to be a doctor, Victor, and to live somewhere on -this hill." - -"_Sappramento!_" exclaimed Victor, swearing, in his astonishment, his -father's favourite oath--"a doctor, Vere! and why?" - -"Well," I answered, modestly, "I am not like you, Victor; I wish I were. -Oh, you cannot tell how I wish I were you! To be high-born and rich, -and heir to a great family, and to have everybody making up to one and -admiring one--that is what I should call happiness. But I can never have -the chance of that. I am shy and stupid and awkward, and--and, -Victor"--I got it out at last, blushing painfully--"I know that I am -ugly--_so ugly_! It is foolish to care about it, for, after all, it is -not my fault; but I cannot help wishing for beauty. It is so painful to -be remarked and laughed at, and I know people laugh at _me_. Why, I -heard Ropsley say to Manners, only yesterday, after I had been fagging -for him at cricket, 'Why, what an ugly little beggar it is!' and Manners -said, 'Yes,' and 'he thought it must be a great misfortune.' And -Ropsley laughed so, I felt he must be laughing at me, as if I could help -it! Oh, Victor, you cannot think how I long to be loved; that is why I -should like to be a doctor. I would live up here in a small cottage, -from which I could always see this beautiful view; and I would study -hard to be very clever--not at Greek and Latin, like March, but at -something I could take an interest in; and I would have a quiet pony, -not a rantipole like your favourite Gold-kind; and I would visit the -poor people for miles round, and never grudge time nor pains for any one -in affliction or distress. I would _make_ them fond of me, and it would -be such happiness to go out on a day like this, and see a kind smile for -one on everybody's face, good or bad. Nobody loves me now, Victor, -except papa and you and Bold; and papa, I fear, only because he is my -papa. I heard him say one day, long ago, to my nurse (you remember -nurse Nettich?), 'Never mind what the boy is like--he is my own.' I -fear he does not care for me for myself. You like me, Victor, because -you are used to me, and because I like _you_ so much; but that is not -exactly the sort of liking I mean; and as for Bold--here, Bold! Bold! -Why, what has become of the dog? He must have gone back to look for -'Nap.'" - -Sure enough Bold was nowhere visible, having made his escape during our -conversation; but in his place the worthy "King of Naples" was to be -seen toiling up the hill, more than three parts drunk, and with a -humorous twinkle in his solitary eye which betokened mischief. - -"Now, young gents," observed the poacher, settling himself upon the -stile, and producing from the capacious pockets of his greasy velveteen -jacket an assortment of snares, night-lines, and other -suspicious-looking articles; "now, young gents, I promised to show you a -bit of sport comin' here to Beverley, and a bit of sport we'll have. -Fust and foremost, I've agot to lift a line or two as I set yesterday in -the mere; then we'll just take a turn round the pheasantry, for you -young gentlemen to see the fowls, you know; Sir 'Arry, he bain't a -comin' back till next week, and Muster Barrells, the keeper, he's off -into Norfolk, arter pinters, and such like. You keep the dog well at -heel, squire. Why, whatever has become o' Bold?" - -Alas, Bold himself was heard to answer the question. Self-hunting in an -adjoining covert, his deep-toned voice was loudly awakening the echoes, -and scaring the game all over the Manor, to his own unspeakable delight -and our intense dismay. Forgetful of all the precepts of his puppyhood, -he scampered hither and thither; now in headlong chase of a hare; now -dashing aside after a rabbit, putting up pheasants at every stride, and -congratulating himself on his emancipation and his prowess in notes that -could not fail to indicate his pursuits to keepers, watchers, all the -establishment of Beverley Manor, to say nothing of the inhabitants of -that and the adjoining parishes. - -Off we started in pursuit, bounding down the hill at our best pace. Old -"Nap" making run in his own peculiar gait, which was none of the most -graceful. Victor laughing and shouting with delight; and I frightened -out of my wits at the temporary loss of my favourite, and the probable -consequences of his disobedience. - -Long before we could reach the scene of Bold's misdoings, we had been -observed by two men who were fishing in the mere, and who now gave -chase--the one keeping along the valley, so as to cut us off in our -descent; the other, a long-legged fellow, striding right up the hill at -once, in case we should turn tail and beat a retreat. "Nap" suddenly -disappeared--I have reason to believe he ensconced himself in a deep -ditch, and there remained until the danger had passed away. Victor and -I were still descending the hill, calling frantically to Bold. The -keeper who had taken the lower line of pursuit was gaining rapidly upon -us. I now saw that he carried a gun under his arm. My dog flashed out -of a small belt of young trees in hot pursuit of a hare--tongue out, -head down, and tail lowered, in full enjoyment of the chase. At the -instant he appeared the man in front of me stopped dead short. Quick as -lightning he lifted his long shining barrel. I saw the flash; and ere I -heard the report my dog tumbled heels over head, and lay upon the sunny -sward, as I believed in the agony of that moment, stone dead. I -strained every nerve to reach him, for I could hear the rattle of a -ramrod, as the keeper reloaded,--and I determined to cover Bold with my -body, and, if necessary, to die with him. I was several paces ahead of -Victor; whom I now heard calling me by name, but I could think of -nothing, attend to nothing, but the prostrate animal in front. What a -joy it Was when I reached him to find he was not actually killed. His -fore-leg was frightfully mangled by the charge; but as I fell breathless -by the side of my darling Bold, he licked my face, and I knew there was -a chance for him still. - -A rough grasp was laid on toy shoulder, and a hoarse voice roused me: - -"Come, young man; I thought I'd drop on to you at last. Now you'll just -come with me to Sir 'Arry, and we'll see what _he_ has to say to this -here." - -And on looking up I found myself in the hands of a strong, square-built -fellow, with a velveteen jacket, and a double-barrelled gun under his -arm, being no less a person than Sir Harry Beverley's head keeper, and -the identical individual that had been watching us from the mere, and -had made so successful a shot at Bold. - -"Come, leave the dog," he added; giving me another shake, and -scrutinising my apparel, which was evidently not precisely of the -description he had expected; "leave the dog--it's no great odds about -him; and as for _you_, young gentleman, if you _be_ a young gentleman, -you _had_ ought to be ashamed of yourself. It's not want as drove you -to this trade. Come, none of that; you go quietly along of me; it's -best for you, I tell you." - -I was struggling to free myself from his hold, for I could not bear to -leave my dog. A thousand horrible anticipations filled my head. Trial, -transportation, I knew not what, for I had a vague terror of the law, -and had heard enough of its rigours in regard to the offence of -poaching, to fill me with indescribable alarm; yet, through it all, I -was more concerned for Bold than myself. My favourite was dying, I -believed, and I could not leave him. - -I looked up in the face of my captor. He was a rough, hairy fellow; but -there was an expression of kindliness in his homely features which -encouraged me to entreat for mercy. - -"Oh, sir," I pleaded, "let me only take my dog; he's not so very heavy; -I'll carry him myself. Bold, my darling Bold! He is my own dog, and -I'd rather you'd kill me too than force me to leave him here." - -The man was evidently mollified, and a good deal puzzled into the -bargain. I saw my advantage, and pressed it vigorously. - -"I'll go to prison willingly,--I'll go anywhere you tell me,--only do -try and cure Bold. Papa will pay you anything if you'll only cure Bold. -Victor! Victor!" I added, seeing my chum now coming up, likewise in -custody, "help me to get this gentleman to save Bold." - -Victor looked flushed, and fiercer than I ever remembered to have seen -that pretty boyish face. His collar was torn and his dress disordered. -He had evidently struggled manfully with his captor, and the latter -wiped his heated brow with an expression of mingled amusement and -astonishment, that showed he was clearly at his wit's end what to make -of his prize. - -"Blowed if I know what to say o' this here, Mr. Barrells," said he to -his brother functionary. "This little chap's even gamer nor t'other -one. _Run_! I never see such a one-er to run. If it hadn't been for -the big hedge at the corner of the cow-pasture, I'd never a cotched 'un -in a month o' Sundays; and when I went to lay hold, the young warmint -out with his knife and offered to whip it into me. He's a rare boy -this; I could scarce grip him for laughing; but the lad's got a sperret, -bless'd if he ain't. I cut my own knuckles gettin' of it out of his -hands." And he showed Victor's knife to his comrade as he spoke. - -Mr. Barrells was a man of reflection, as keepers generally are. He -examined the knife carefully, and spoke in an undertone to his friend. - -"Do you see this here?" he remarked, pointing to the coronet which was -inlaid in the steel; "and do you see that there?" he added, with a -glance at Victor's gold watch-chain, of Parisian fabric. "Put this here -and that there together, Bill, which it convinces me as these here -little chaps is not them as we was a lookin' for. Your cove looks a -gentleman all over; I knows the breed, Bill, and there's no mistake -about the real thing; and my precious boy here, he wouldn't leave the -dawg, not if it was ever so, though he's a very little 'un; he's a -gentleman too; but that don't make no odds, Bill: gentlemen hadn't ought -to be up to such-like tricks, nor haven't half the excuse of poor folks; -and, gentlemen or no gentlemen, they goes before Sir 'Arry, dog and all, -as sure as my name's Barrells!" - -Victor and I looked at each other in hopeless despair; there was, then, -nothing for it but to undergo the extreme penalty of the law. With -hanging heads and blushing cheeks we walked between our captors; Bill, -who seemed a good-natured fellow enough, carrying the unfortunate Bold -on his shoulders. We thought our shame had reached its climax, but we -were doomed to suffer even more degradation in this our first visit to -Beverley Manor. - -As we threaded the gravel path of a beautiful shrubbery leading to the -back offices of the Manor House, we met a young girl taking her -afternoon's walk with her governess, whose curiosity seemed vividly -excited by our extraordinary procession. To this day I can remember -Constance Beverley as she stood before me then, the first time I ever -saw her. She was scarcely more than a child, but her large serious dark -eyes, her noble and somewhat sad expression of countenance, gave her an -interest which mere childish beauty could never have possessed. There -are some faces that we can discern even at such a distance as renders -the features totally indistinct, as if the expression of countenance -reached us by some magnetic process independent of vision, and such a -face was that of Constance Beverley. I have often heard her beauty -disputed. I have even known her called plain, though that was generally -by critics of her own sex, but I never heard any one deny that she was -_uncommon-looking_, and always certain to attract attention, even where -she failed in winning admiration. Victor blushed scarlet, and I felt as -if I must sink into the earth when this young lady walked up to the -keeper, and asked him "what he was going to do with those people, and -why he was taking them to papa?" - -Miss Constance was evidently a favourite with Mr. Barrells, for he -stopped and doffed his hat with much respect whilst he explained to her -the circumstance of our pursuit and capture. So long as he alluded only -to our poaching offences, I thought the little lady looked on us with -eyes of kindly commiseration; but when he hinted his suspicions of our -social position, I observed that she immediately assumed an air of -marked coldness, and transferred her pity to Bold. - -"So you see, Miss, I does my duty by Sir 'Arry without respect to rich -or poor," was Mr. Barrells' conclusion to a long-winded oration -addressed partly to the young lady, partly to her governess, and partly -to ourselves, the shame-faced culprits; "and therefore it is as I brings -these young gentlemen up to the justice-room, if so be, as I said -before, they _be_ young gentlemen; and so, Miss Constance, the law must -take its course." - -"But you'll take care of the poor dog, Barrells; promise me you'll take -care of the poor dog," was the young lady's last entreaty as she walked -on with her governess; and a turn in the shrubbery hid her from our -sight. - -"_What_ a half-holiday this has been!" whispered I to my comrade in -distress, as we neared the house that had so long been an object of such -curiosity. - -"Yes," replied Victor, "but it's not over yet." - -Sir Harry was at the farm; we must wait for his return. Meantime we were -shown into the servants' hall; a large stone chamber devoid of -furniture, that reminded me of our schoolroom at Everdon--much as we -hated the latter, what would we have given to be there now! Cold meat -and ale were offered us; but, as may well be imagined, we had no -appetite to partake of them, although in that respect our captors set us -a noble example; remaining, however, on either side of us as turnkeys -watch those who are ordered for execution. The servants of the -household came one after another to stare at the unfortunate culprits, -and made audible remarks on our dress and general appearance. Victor's -beauty won him much favour from the female part of the establishment; -and a housemaid with a wonderfully smart cap brought him a cup of tea, -which he somewhat rudely declined. There was considerable discussion as -to our real position in society carried on without the slightest regard -to our presence. The under-butler, whose last place was in London, and -whose professional anxiety about his spoons may have somewhat prejudiced -him, gave it as his opinion that we belonged to what he called "the -swell mob"; but Mr. Barrells, who did not seem to understand the term, -"pooh-poohed" this suggestion with so much dignity as at once to -extinguish that official, who incontinently retired to his pantry and -his native obscurity. The women, who generally lean to the most -improbable version of a story, were inclined to believe that we were -sailors, and of foreign extraction; but the most degrading theory of -all, and one that I am bound to confess met with a large majority of -supporters, was to the effect that we were run-away 'prentices from -Fleetsbury, and would be put in the stocks on our return to that market -town. We had agreed not to give our names except as a last resource, my -friend clinging, as I thought somewhat hopelessly, to the idea that Sir -Harry would let us off with a reprimand, and we might get back to -Everdon without March finding it out. So the great clock ticked loudly -in the hall, and there we sat in mute endurance. As Victor had before -remarked, "it was not over yet." - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - ROPSLEY - - -Ropsley smoked his cigar on the trunk of the old tree, and Manners drank -in worldly wisdom from the lips of his junior, whom, however, he -esteemed as the very guide-book of all sporting and fashionable life. -It was the ambition of our usher to become a thorough man of the world; -and, had he been born to a fortune and a title, there was no reason why -he should not have formed a very fair average young nobleman. His -tastes were frivolous enough, his egotism sufficiently developed, his -manner formed on what he conceived the best model. All this was only -absurd, I presume, because he was an usher; had he been a marquis, he -would have shown forth as a "very charming person." His admiration of -Ropsley was genuine, the latter's contempt for his adorer equally -sincere, but better concealed. They sit puffing away at their cigars, -watching the smoke wreathing up into the summer sky, and Manners coaxes -his whiskers and looks admiringly at his friend. Ropsley's cigar is -finished, and he dashes it down somewhat impatiently. - -"What can have become of that little wretch?" says he, with a yawn and a -stretch of his long, well-shaped limbs; "he's probably made some stupid -mistake, and I shall have to lick him after all. Manners, what have you -done with the old dog-whip we used to keep for the lower boys?" - -"Safe in my desk," replies Manners, who, being a good-natured fellow, -likes to keep that instrument of torture locked up; "but Egerton's a -good little fellow; you mustn't be too hard upon him this time." - -"I never could see the difference between a good fellow and a bad one," -replies Ropsley. "If I want a thing done I choose the most likely -person to do it; and if he fails it's his fault and not mine, and he -must suffer for it. I've no prejudices, my good friend, and no -feelings--they're only different words for the same thing; and, depend -upon it, people get on much better without them. But come: let's walk -down to the village, and look after him. I'll go and ask March if he -wants anything 'down the road.'" - -Luckily for me, my chastiser had not proceeded half a mile upon his way, -ere he met the "King of Naples" in person, hot and breathless, flustered -with drink and running, and more incoherent than usual in his -conversation and demeanour. He approached Ropsley, who was the most -magnificent of his patrons, with hat in hand, and somewhat the air of a -dog that knows he has done wrong. - -"What's up now, you old reprobate?" said the latter, in his most -supercilious manner--a manner, I may observe, he adopted to all whom he -could influence without conciliating, and which made the conciliation -doubly winning to the favoured few--"What's up now? Drunk again, I -suppose, as usual?" - -"Not drunk, squire--not drunk, as I'm a livin' man," replied the -poacher, sawing the air in deprecation with a villainously dirty hand; -"hagitated, perhaps, and over-anxious about the young gentlemen--Oh! -them lads, them lads!" and he leered at his patron as much as to hint -that he had a precious story to tell, if it was only made worth his -while. - -"Come, no nonsense!" said Ropsley, sternly; "out with it. What's the -matter? You've got De Rohan and Egerton into some scrape; I see it in -your ugly old face. Tell me all about it this instant, or it will be -worse for you." - -"Doan't hurry a man so, squire; pray ye, now, doan't. I be only out o' -breath, and the lads they be safe enough by this time; but I wanted for -you to speak up for me to the master, squire. I bain't a morsel to -blame. I went a-purpose to see as the young gents didn't get into no -mischief; I did, indeed. I be an old man now, and it's a long walk for -me at my years," whined the old rascal, who was over at the Manor three -nights a week when he thought the keepers were out of the way. "And the -dog, he was most to blame, arter all; but the keepers they've got the -young gents safe, enough,--and that's all about it." So saying, he -stood bolt upright, like a man who has fired his last shot, and is ready -to abide the worst. Truth to tell, the "King of Naples" was horribly -afraid of Ropsley. - -The latter thought for a moment, put his hand in his pocket, and gave -the poacher half-a-crown. "You hold your tongue," said he, "or you'll -get into worse trouble than any of them. Now go home, and don't let me -hear of your stirring out for twenty-four hours. Be off! Do you hear?" - -Old "Nap" obeyed, and hobbled off to his cottage, there to spend the -term of his enforced residence in his favourite occupation of drinking, -whilst Ropsley walked rapidly on to the village, and directed his steps -to that well-known inn, "The Greyhound," of which every boy at Everdon -School was more or less a patron. - -In ten minutes' time there was much ringing of bells and general -confusion pervading that establishment; the curly-headed waiter (why do -all waiters have curly hair?) rushed to and fro with a glass-cloth in -his hand; the barmaid drooped her long ringlets over her own -window-sill, within which she was to be seen at all hours of the day and -night, like a pretty picture in its frame; the lame ostler stumped about -with an activity foreign to his usual methodical nature, and a chaise -and pair was ordered to be got ready immediately for Beverley Manor. - -Richard the Third is said to have been born with all his double teeth -sharp set, and in good masticatory order. It is my firm belief that -Ropsley was also ushered into the world with his wisdom teeth in a state -of maturity. He had, indeed, an old head upon young shoulders; and yet -this lad was brought up and educated by his mother until he was sent to -school. Perhaps he was launched into the world too early; perhaps his -recollections of home were not vivid enough to soften his character or -awaken his feelings. When I first knew him he had been an orphan for -years; but I am bound to say that the only being of whom he spoke with -reverence was his mother. I never heard him mention her name but twice, -and each time a soft light stole over his countenance and altered the -whole expression of his features, till I could hardly believe it was the -same person. From home, when a very little boy, he was sent to Eton; -and after a long process of hardening in that mimic world, was -transferred to Everdon, more as a private pupil than a scholar. Here it -was that I first knew him; and great as was my boyish admiration for the -haughty, aristocratic youth just verging upon manhood, it is no wonder -that I watched and studied his character with an intensity born of my -own ardent disposition, the enthusiasm of which was all the stronger for -having been so repressed and concealed in my strange and solitary -childhood. Most children are hero-worshippers, and my hero for the time -was Ropsley. - -He was, I think, the only instance I can recollect of a mere boy -proposing to himself a certain aim and end in life, and going steadily -forward to its attainment without pause or deviation. I often think -now, what is there that a man with ordinary faculties might not attain, -would he but propose to himself at fourteen that position which he would -wish to reach at forty? Show me the hill that six-and-twenty years of -perseverance would fail to climb. But no; the boy never thinks of it at -all--or if he does, he believes the man of forty to be verging on his -grave, and too old to enjoy any of the pleasures of existence, should he -have the means of indulging them. He will not think so when he has -reached that venerable period; though, after all, age is a relative -term, and too often totally irrespective of years. Many a heart is -ruined and worn out long ere the form be bent or the head grown grey. -But the boy thinks there is time enough; the youth grudges all that -interferes with his pleasures; and the man only finds the value of -energy and perseverance when it is too late to avail himself of them. -Oh! opportunity!--opportunity!--phantom goddess of success, that not one -in a million has decision to seize and make his own:--if hell be paved -with good intentions, it might be roofed with lost opportunities. - -Ropsley, however, was no morbid whiner over that which is irretrievable. -He never lost a chance by his own carelessness; and if he failed, as all -must often fail, he never looked back. _Aide-toi, et Dieu t'aidera_, is -a motto that comprises in five words the noblest code of philosophy; the -first part of the sentence Ropsley had certainly adopted for his -guidance, and to do him justice, he never was remiss in any sense of the -word in helping himself. - -Poor, though of good family, his object was to attain a high position in -the social world, power, wealth, and influence, especially the latter, -but each and all as a means towards self-aggrandisement. The motive -might not be amiable or noble, but it was better than none at all, and -he followed it out most energetically. For this object he spared no -pains, he feared no self-denial, he grudged no sacrifice. He was a -scholar, and he meant to make the most of his scholarship, just as he -made the most of his cricket-playing, his riding, his skill in all -sports and exercises. He knew that his physical good looks and -capabilities would be of service to him hereafter, and he cultivated -them just as he stored and cultivated that intellect which he valued not -for itself, but as a means to an end. - -"If I had fifty thousand a year," I once heard him say to Manners, "I -should take no trouble about anything. Depend upon it, the real thing to -live for is enjoyment. But if I had only forty-five thousand I should -work like a slave--it would not _quite_ give me the position I require." - -Such was Ropsley at this earliest period of our acquaintance. - -"Drive to Beverley Manor," said he, as he made himself thoroughly -comfortable amongst the cushions, let down all the windows, and settled -himself to the perusal of the last daily paper. - -Any other boy in the school would have gone in a gig. - - - - - CHAPTER X - - BEVERLEY MANOR - - -Why does a country gentleman invariably select the worst room in the -house for his own private apartment, in which he transacts what he is -pleased to call his "business," and spends the greater part of his time? -At Beverley Manor there were plenty of rooms, cheerful, airy, and -well-proportioned, in which it would have been a pleasure to live, but -none of these were chosen by Sir Harry for his own; disregarding the -charms of the saloon, the drawing-room, the morning-room, the -billiard-room, and the hall itself, which, with a huge fire-place and a -thick carpet, was by no means the least comfortable part of the -house,--he had retired to a small, ill-contrived, queer-shaped -apartment, dark, dusty, and uncomfortable, of which the only -recommendation was that it communicated directly with a back-staircase -and offices, and did not require in its own untidiness any apology on -the part of muddy visitors, who had not thought of wiping their boots -and shoes as they came up. A large glass gun-case, filled with -double-barrels, occupied one side of the room, flanked by book-shelves, -loaded with such useful but not entertaining works as the _Racing -Calendar_, _White's Farriery_, and _Hawker's Instructions to Young -Sportsmen_. In one corner was a whip-stand, hung round with many an -instrument of torture. The knotted dog-whip that reduced Ponto to -reason in the golden stubbles; the long-thonged hunting-whip, that -brought to mind at once the deep, fragrant woodland in November, with -its scarlet coats flitting down the distant ride; and the straight, -punishing "cut-and-thrust," that told of Derby and St. Leger, Ditch-In, -Middle-Mile, and all the struggles of Epsom and Newmarket. In another -was an instrument for measuring land, and a roll of plans by which acres -were to be calculated and a system of thorough draining established, -with a view to golden profits. - -"Draining!" remarked Sir Harry, in his younger days, to an assemblage of -country gentlemen, who stood aghast at the temerity of his proposition, -"I am no advocate for draining:"--voices were raised, and hands uplifted -in pious horror and deprecation--"all I can say is, gentlemen, that I -have drained my property till _I cannot get a farthing from it_" was Sir -Harry's conclusive reasoning, which must have satisfied Mr. Mechi -himself. - -A coloured engraving of the well-known Beverley shorthorn "Dandy" hung -on one side of the fire-place, and on the other, a print of "Flying -Childers," as he appeared when going at the rate of a mile in a minute, -apparently ridden by a highwayman in huge jack-boots and a flowing -periwig. In the centre of the room was fixed a large leather-covered -writing-table, and at this table sat Sir Harry himself, prepared to -administer justice and punish all offenders. He was a tall, thin man, -somewhat bent, and bald, with a hooked nose, and a bright, searching -eye, evidently a thorough man of the world in thought, opinion, and -feeling; the artificial will become second nature if long enough -persisted in, and Sir Harry had served no short apprenticeship to the -trade of fashion. His dress was peculiarly neat and gentleman-like, not -the least what is now termed "slang," and yet with a something in it -that marked the horseman. He was busy writing when we were ushered into -the awful presence, and Victor and I had time to steal a look at each -other, and to exchange a reassuring pressure of the hand. The young -Hungarian raised his head frank and fearless as usual; I felt that I -should like to sink into the ground, but yet was determined to stand by -my friend. - -Mr. Barrells commenced a long oration, in which he was rapidly losing -himself, when his master, whose attention was evidently occupied -elsewhere, suddenly looked up, and cut him short with the pertinent -inquiry-- - -"What's all this about, Barrells? and why are these lads here?" - -"We are gentlemen, and not poachers;" and "Indeed, sir, it was Bold that -got away!" exclaimed Victor and I simultaneously. - -At this instant a card was brought in by the butler, and placed in Sir -Harry's hand; he looked at it for a moment, and then said-- - -"Immediate! very well, show the gentleman in." - -I thought I knew the step that came along the passage, but never was -failing courage more grateful for assistance than was mine to recognise -in Sir Harry's visitor the familiar person of my schoolfellow, Ropsley; -I cared not a farthing for the promised licking now. - -"I have to apologise for disturbing you, Sir Harry," said he, standing -as composed and collected as if he were in our schoolroom at -Everdon;--even in the anxiety of the moment I remember thinking, "What -would I give to possess 'manner' such as his;"--"I have to apologise for -my rudeness" (Sir Harry bowed, and said, "Not at all;" I wondered what -he meant by _that_), "but I am sure you will excuse me when I tell you -that I am a pupil of Mr. March's at Everdon" (Sir Harry looked at the -tall, well-dressed figure before him, and seemed surprised), "and these -two young friends of mine belong to the same establishment. I heard -quite accidentally, only an hour ago, of the scrape they had got into, -and I immediately hurried over here to assure you that they can have had -no evil intentions in trespassing on your property, and to apologise for -their thoughtlessness, partly out of respect to you, Sir Harry, and -partly, I am bound to say, for the credit of the school. I am quite -sure that neither Egerton nor De Rohan----" - -Sir Harry started. "Egerton! De Rohan!" he exclaimed; "not the son of -my old friend Philip Egerton, not young Count de Rohan?--really, -Mr.----" (he looked at the card he held in his hand), "really, Mr. -Ropsley, I am very much obliged to you for rectifying this extraordinary -mistake;" but even whilst he was speaking, I had run round the table to -where he sat, and seizing his hand--I remember how cold it felt between -my own little hot, trembling ones--exclaimed-- - -"Oh! do you know my papa? then I am sure you will not punish us; only -let us off this time, and give me back Bold, and we will promise never -to come here again." - -The Baronet was not a demonstrative person, nor had he much patience -with those who were; he pushed me from him, I thought rather coldly, and -addressed himself once more to Ropsley. - -"Why, these boys are sons of two of the oldest friends I have in the -world. I would not have had such a thing happen for a thousand pounds. -I must apologise to you, young gentlemen, for the rudeness of my -servants--Good heavens! ou were kept waiting in the hall: why on earth -did you not give your names? Your father and I were at college -together, Egerton; and as for you, Monsieur le Comte, had I known you -were at Everdon, I would have made a point of going over to call upon -you myself; but I have only just returned to the country, and that must -be my excuse." - -Victor bowed gracefully: notwithstanding his torn jacket and disordered -collar, he looked "the young Count" all over, and so I am sure thought -Sir Harry. Ropsley was perfectly _gentlemanlike_, but Victor was -naturally _high bred_. - -"Barrells, where are you going, Barrells?" resumed his master, for that -discreet person, seeing the turn things were taking, was quietly leaving -the room; "you always were the greatest fool that ever stood upon two -legs: now let this be a warning to you--every vagabond in the county -helps himself to my game whenever he pleases, and you never lay a finger -on one of them; at last you insult and abuse two young gentlemen that -any one but a born idiot could see were gentlemen, and bring them in -here for poachers--_poachers!_ as if you didn't know a poacher when you -see one. Don't stand gaping there, you fool, but be off, and the other -blockhead too. Hie! here; let the dog be attended to, and one of the -watchers must lead him back to Everdon when he's well again. Now see to -that, and never make such a stupid mistake again." - -"May I go and see Bold, sir?" said I, summoning up courage as my late -captors quitted the room. - -"Quite right, my little man," replied the Baronet, "so you shall, this -evening; but in the meantime, I hope you'll all stay and dine with me. -I'll write to your master--what's his name?--and send you back in the -carriage at night; what say you, Mr. Ropsley? I can give you a capital -bottle of claret." - -So here were we, who one short hour before had been making up our minds -to endure with fortitude the worst that could happen,--who had expected -to be driven with ignominy from Beverley, and handed over to condign -punishment on our return to school, if indeed we were fortunate enough -to escape committal and imprisonment in the County Gaol,--now installed -as honoured guests in the very mansion which we had so long looked upon -as a _terra incognita_ of fairyland, free to visit the "hins-and-houts" -of Beverley, with no thanks to the "King of Naples" for his assistance, -and, in short, raised at one step from the abyss of schoolboy despair to -the height of schoolboy gratification. Victor's delight was even -greater than mine as we were shown into a pretty little dressing-room -overlooking the garden, to wash our hands before dinner. He said it -reminded him of home, and made him feel "like a gentleman" once more. - -What a dinner that was to which we sat down in the stately old -dining-room, served upon massive plate by a butler and two footmen, -whose magnificence made me feel quite shy in my comparative -insignificance. Ropsley of course seemed as much at home as if he was -in the habit of dining there every day, and Victor munched away with an -appetite that seemed to afford our good-natured host immense -gratification. Soup and fish, _entrées_ of every description, hashed -venison, iced champagne--how grateful after our hot pursuit in the -summer sun--and all the minor luxuries of silver forks, clean napkins, -finger-glasses, etc., were indeed a contrast to the plain roast mutton -and potatoes, the two-pronged fork, and washy table-beer of our Everdon -bill-of-fare. What I liked, though, better than all the eatables and -drinkables, was a picture opposite which I sat, and which riveted my -attention so much as to attract the observation of Sir Harry himself. - -"Ha! Egerton," said he, "you are your father all over, I see. Just -like him, wild about painting. Now I'll bet my life you're finding -fault with the colouring of that picture. The last time he was here he -vowed, if I would let him, he would paint it all over again; and yet -it's one of the best pictures in England at this moment. What do you -think of it, my boy? Could you paint as good a one?" - -"No, sir," I replied modestly, and rather annoyed at my reverie being -interrupted; "my father tries to teach me, but--but I cannot learn to -paint." - -Sir Harry turned away, and Ropsley whispered something about "very -odd"--"poor little fellow." The dessert had just been put on the table, -and Victor was busy with his strawberries and cream. There must be some -truth in magnetism, there must be something in the doctrine of -attraction and repulsion: why do we like some people as we dislike -others, without any shadow of a reason? Homoeopathists tell us that the -nausea which contracts our features at the smell of a drug, is a -provision of Nature to guard us against poison. Can it be that these -antipathies are implanted in our being to warn us of those who shall -hereafter prove our enemies? it is not a charitable theory nor a -Christian-like, and yet in my experience of life I have found many -instances in which it has borne a strange semblance of truth. - - "Men feel by instinct swift as light - The presence of the foe, - Whom God has marked in after years - To strike the mortal blow. - The other, though his brand be sheathed, - At banquet or in hall, - Hath a forebodement of the time - When one or both must fall." - - -So sings "the minstrel" in his poem of _Bothwell_, but _Bothwell_ was -not written at the time of which I speak, and the only poetry I had ever -heard to justify my antipathies was the homely quatrain of _Dr. Fell_. -Still I felt somehow from that moment I hated Ropsley; it was absurd, it -was ungrateful, it was ungentlemanlike, but it was undeniable. - -So I buried myself in the contemplation of the picture, which possessed -for me a strange fascination. The subject was Queen Dido transfixed on -her funeral pyre, the very _infandum regina_ to whose history I owed so -many school-room sorrows. I began to think I should never hate Virgil -again. The whole treatment of the picture was to the last degree -unnatural, and the colouring, even to my inexperienced eye, faulty and -overdone. Yet that face of mute sorrow and resignation spoke at once to -the heart; the Queen lay gazing on the distant galleys which were -bearing away her love, and curling their beaks and curvetting, so to -speak, up-hill on a green sea, in a manner that must have made the task -of Palinurus no easy one when he undertook to steer the same. Her limbs -were disposed stiffly, but not ungracefully, on the fatal couch, and her -white bosom was pierced by the deadly blade. Yet on her sweet, sad -countenance the artist had depicted with wonderful skill the triumph of -mental over bodily anguish; and though the features retained all woman's -softness and woman's beauty, you read the breaking heart beneath. I -could have looked at that picture for hours, I was lost in it even then, -but the door opened, and whilst Ropsley got up with a flourish and his -most respectful bow, in walked the young lady whom we had met under far -different circumstances some three hours before in the shrubbery, and -quietly took her place by the side of her papa. - -As I looked from Queen Dido to Miss Constance I quite started; there was -the very face as if it had walked out of the canvas. Younger, -certainly, and with a more childish expression about the mouth, but the -same queenly brow, the same sad, serious eyes, the same delicate -features and oval shape; the fascination was gone from the picture now, -and yet as I looked at the child--for child she was then--I experienced -once more the old well-known pang of self-humiliation which so often -poisoned my happiness; I felt so dull and awkward amongst these bright -faces and polished manners, so ungainly and out of place where others -were gay and at their ease. How I envied Victor's self-possession as he -addressed the young lady with his pleasant, foreign accent, and a -certain assurance that an English boy never acquires till he is verging -on manhood. How willingly would I have exchanged places with any one of -the party. How I longed to cast the outward slough of timidity and -constraint, to appear as I felt myself in reality, an equal in mind and -station and feelings to the rest. For the first time in my life, as I -sat a mere child at that dinner-table, came the thrilling, maddening -feeling to my heart-- - -"Oh! that something would happen, something dreadful, something unheard -of, that should strip from each of us all extraneous and artificial -advantages, that should give us all a fair start on equal -terms--something that should try our courage or our fortitude, and -enable me to prove myself what I really am." - -It was the first spark of ambition that ever entered my boyish breast, -but when once kindled, such sparks are never completely extinguished. -Fortunate is it that opportunities are wanting to fan them into a flame, -or we should ere long have the world in a blaze. - -Miss Constance took very little notice of us beyond a cold allusion to -the well-being of my dog, and it was not till Sir Harry bade her take -charge of Victor and myself, and lead us out through the garden to visit -our wounded favourite, that we had any conversation with this reserved -young lady. Sir Harry rang for another bottle of claret, and composed -himself for a good chat upon racing matters with Ropsley, who was as -much at home with everything connected with the turf as if he spent his -whole time at Newmarket. Ropsley had even then a peculiar knack of -being "all things to all men," and pleaded guilty besides to a very -strong _penchant_ for horse-racing. This latter taste raised him -considerably in Sir Harry's estimation, who, like the rest of mankind, -took great pleasure in beckoning the young along that path of pleasure -which had nearly led to his own ruin. Well, we are all children to the -last; was there one whit more wisdom in the conversation of the Baronet -and his guest as to the relative merits of certain three-year-olds and -the weight they could carry, than in the simple questions and answers of -us three children, walking soberly along the soft garden sward in the -blushing sunset? At first we were very decorous: no brocaded courtier -of Queen Anne, leading his partner out to dance a minuet, could have -been more polite and respectful than Victor; no dame of high degree, in -hoop and stomacher, more stately and reserved than Miss Constance. I -said little, but watched the pair with a strange, uncomfortable -fascination. Ere long, however, the ice began to thaw, questions as to -Christian names, and ages, and respective birthdays, brought on -increased confidence and more familiar conversation. Constance showed -us her doves, and was delighted to find that we too understood -thoroughly the management of these soft-eyed favourites; the visit to -Bold was another strong link in our dawning friendship; the little girl -was so gentle and so pitiful, so caressing to the poor dog, and so -sympathising with its master, that I could not but respond to her -kindness, and overcame my timidity sufficiently to thank her warmly for -the interest she took in poor Bold. By the time we had all enjoyed in -turn the delights of a certain swing, and played a game at battledore -and shuttlecock in the echoing hall, we were becoming fast friends, and -had succeeded in interesting our new acquaintance extremely in all the -details of schoolboy life, and our own sufferings at Everdon. I -remarked, however, that Constance took far less notice of me than of -Victor; with him she seemed frank and merry and at her ease; with me, on -the contrary, she retained much of her early reserve, and I could not -help fancying, rather avoided my conversation than otherwise. Well, I -was used to being thrown in the background, and it was pleasure enough -for me to watch that grave, earnest countenance, and speculate on the -superhuman beauty of Queen Dido, to which it bore so strange a -resemblance. - -It was getting too dark to continue our game. We had already lost the -shuttlecock three times, and it was now hopelessly perched on the frame -of an old picture in the hall; when the dining-room door opened, and Sir -Harry came out, still conversing earnestly with his guest on the one -engrossing topic. - -"I am much obliged to you for the hint," said the Baronet. "It never -struck me before; and if your information is really to be depended on, I -shall certainly back him. Strange that I should not have heard of the -trial." - -"My man dare not deceive me, I assure you," answered Ropsley, his quiet, -distinct tones contrasting with Sir Harry's, who was a little flushed -and voluble after his claret. "He used to do odd jobs for me when I was -in the sixth form at Eton, and I met him unexpectedly enough the other -day in the High-street at Bath. He is a mason by trade, and is employed -repairing Beckford's tower; by the way, he had heard of _Vathek_--I am -not sure that he hasn't read it, so the fellow has some brains about -him. Well, I knew he hadn't been hanging about Ascot all his life for -nothing, so I described the colt to him, and bade him keep his eyes open -when perched in mid-air these bright mornings, with such a command of -Lansdowne. Why, he knew the horse as well as I did, and yesterday sent -me a full account of the trial. I destroyed it immediately, of course, -but I have it all here" (pointing to his forehead, where, indeed, -Ropsley carried a curious miscellany of information). "He beat the mare -at least fifty yards, and she was nearly that distance ahead of -'Slap-Jack,' so you may depend upon it he is a real flyer. I have -backed him to win a large stake, at least, for a boy like me," added -Ropsley, modestly; "and I do not mean to hedge a farthing of it." - -Sir Harry was delighted; he had found a "young one," as he called it, -after his own heart; he declared he would not wish him "good-bye"; he -must come over again and see the yearlings; he must accompany him to the -Bath races. If he was to leave Everdon at the end of the half-year, he -must come and shoot in September; nay, they would go to Doncaster -together; in short, Sir Harry was fascinated, and put us all into the -carriage, which he had ordered expressly to take us back to Everdon, -with many expressions of hospitality and good-will. - -Bold was lifted on to the box, from whence he looked down with his -tongue hanging out in a state of ludicrous helplessness and dismay. -Miss Constance bade us a quiet "good-night" in tones so sweet that they -rang in my ears half the way home, and so we drove off in state from the -front door, as though we had not that very afternoon been brought in as -culprits at the back. - -Ropsley was unusually silent during the whole journey. He had -established his footing at Beverley Manor, perhaps he was thinking how -"to make the most of it." - - - - - CHAPTER XI - - DULCE DOMUM - - -I must skip a few years; long years they were then to me; as I look back -upon them now, they seem to have fleeted away like a dream. Victor and -I are still at Everdon, but we are now the two senior boys in the -school. De Rohan has grown into one of the handsomest youths you will -often see. His blue eye is as clear and merry as ever, but the chestnut -curls have turned dark and glossy, and the light, agile form is rapidly -developing itself into a strong, symmetrical young man. He is still -frank, gay, and unsophisticated; quick enough at his studies, but -utterly without perseverance, and longing ardently for the time when he -shall be free to embark upon a course of pleasure and dissipation. I am -much altered too. With increasing growth and the assumption of the -_toga virilis_, or that manly garment which schoolboys abruptly -denominate "tails," I have acquired a certain degree of outward -equanimity and self-command, but still suffer much from inward -misgivings as to my own appearance and personal advantages. Hopelessly -I consult the glass in our joint bed-room--the same glass that daily -reflects Victor's handsome face and graceful figure--and am forced -unwillingly to confess that it presents to me the image of a swarthy, -coarse-featured lad, with sunken eyes and scowling eyebrows, sallow in -complexion, with a wide, low forehead overhung by a profusion of bushy -black hair; this unprepossessing countenance surmounting a short square -figure, broad-shouldered, deep-chested, and possessed of great physical -strength. Yes, I was proud of my strength. I shall never forget the -day when first I discovered that nature had gifted me with one personal -advantage, that I, of all others, was disposed most to appreciate. A -lever had been left in the playground, by which the workmen, who were -repairing the wall, intended to lift the stem of the well-known tree -which had formerly constituted what we called "The Club." We boys had -come out of school whilst the men were gone to dinner. Manners, the -muscular, was delighted with such an opportunity of displaying his -prowess; how foolish he looked when he found himself incapable of moving -the huge inert mass--he said it was impossible; two boys attempted it, -then three, still the great trunk remained motionless. I asked leave to -try, amidst the jeers of all, for I was usually so quiet and -undemonstrative that no one believed Egerton had, in schoolboy parlance, -either "pith or pluck" in him. I laid my weight to it and heaved "with -a will"; the great block of timber vibrated, moved, and rolled along the -sward. What a triumph it was, and how I prided myself on it. I, too, -had my ideal of what I should like to be, although I would not have -confessed it to a soul. I wished to be like some _preux chevalier_ of -the olden time; my childish longing to be loved had merged into an -ardent desire to be admired; I would have been brave and courteous and -chivalrous and strong. Yes, in all the characters of the olden time -that I so loved to study, strength was described as one of the first -attributes of a hero. Sir Tristram, Sir Launcelot, Sir Bevis, were all -"strong," and my heart leapt to think that if the opportunity ever -arrived, my personal strength might give me a chance of distinguishing -myself, when the beautiful and the gallant were helpless and overcome. -But there was another qualification of which in my secret soul I had -hideous misgivings,--I doubted my own courage: I knew I was nervous and -timid in the common every-day pursuits of a schoolboy's life; I could -not venture on a strange horse without feeling my heart in my mouth; I -did not dare stop a ball that was bowled swiftly in to my wicket, nor -fire a gun without shutting both eyes before I ventured to pull the -trigger. What if I should be a coward after all? A _coward!_ the -thoughts of it almost drove me mad; and yet how could I tell but that I -was branded with that hideous curse? I longed, yet dreaded, to know the -worst. - -In my studies I was unusually backward for a boy of my age. Virgil, -thanks to the picture of Dido, never to be forgotten, I had completely -mastered; but mathematics, arithmetic--all that are termed the exact -sciences--I appeared totally incapable of learning. Languages I picked -up with extraordinary facility, and this alone redeemed me from the -character of an irreclaimable dunce. - -"You _can_ learn, sir, if you will," was March's constant remark, after -I had arrived at the exalted position of a senior boy, to whom flogging -and such coercive measures were inappropriate, and for whom "out of -bounds" was not. "You _can_ learn, or else why do I see you poring over -Arabic and Sanscrit during play-hours, when you had much better be at -cricket? You must have brains somewhere, but to save my life I can't -find them. You can speak half-a-dozen languages, as I am informed, -nearly as well as I can speak Latin, and yet if I set you to do a 'Rule -of Three' sum, you make more blunders than the lowest little dunce in -the school! Egerton, I can't make you out." - -It was breaking-up day at Everdon. Victor and I walked with our arms -over each other's shoulders, up and down, up and down, in the old -playground, and as we paced those well-worn flags, of which we knew -every stone, my heart sank within me to think it was for the last, -_last_ time. What is there that we are not sorry to do for the last -time? I had hated school as much as any schoolboy could; I had looked -forward to my emancipation as the captive looks forward to the opening -of his prison-door; and now the time was come, and I felt grieved and -out of spirits to think that I should see the old place no more. - -"You must write to me constantly, Vere," said Victor, with an -affectionate hug, as we took our hundredth turn. "We must never forget -each other, however far apart, and next winter you must come again to -Edeldorf; I shall be there when the shooting begins. Oh, Vere, you will -be very dull at home." - -"No," I replied; "I like Alton Grange, and I like a quiet life. I am -not of your way of thinking, Victor; you are never happy except in a -bustle; I wish I were more like you;" and I sighed as I thought of the -contrast between us. - -I do not know what brought it to my mind, but I thought of Constance -Beverley, and the first time we saw her when we were all children -together at Beverley Manor. Since then our acquaintance had indeed -progressed but little; we scarcely ever met except on certain Sundays, -when we took advantage of our liberty as senior boys to go to church at -Fleetsbury, where from the gallery we could see right into the Beverley -pew, and mark the change time had wrought on our former playfellow. -After service, at the door we might perhaps exchange a stiff greeting -and a few words before she and her governess got into the carriage; and -this transcendent pleasure we were content to purchase with a broiling -walk of some five miles on a dusty high-road, and a patient endurance of -the longest sermon from the worthy rector of Fleetsbury, an excellent -man, skilled in casuistry, and gifted with extraordinary powers of -discourse. Victor, I think, took these expeditions in his own -good-natured way, and seemed to care but little whether he went or not. -One hot Sunday, I recollect he suggested that we should dispense with -afternoon church altogether, and go to bathe instead, a proposal I -scouted with the utmost indignation, for I looked forward to our -meetings with a passionate longing for which I could not account even to -myself, and which I never for an instant dreamed of attributing to the -charms of Miss Beverley. I know not now what tempted me to ask the -question, but I felt myself becoming bright scarlet as I inquired of my -school-fellow whether he had not _other_ friends in Somersetshire -besides myself whom he would regret leaving. His reply ought to have -set my mind at ease, if I was disturbed at the suspicion of his -entertaining any _penchant_ for Miss Beverley, for he answered at once -in his own off-hand way--"None whatever that I care a sixpence about, -not even that prim little girl and her governess, whom you drag me five -miles every Sunday to see. No, Vere, if I could take you with me, I -should sing for joy the whole way from here to London. As it is, I -shall not break my heart: I am so glad to get away from this dull, -dreadful place." - -Then he did not care for Miss Beverley, after all. Well, and what -difference could that possibly make to me? Certainly, I was likely to -see her pretty constantly in the next year or two, as our respective -abodes would be but a short distance apart; but what of that? There -could be nothing in common between the high-born, haughty young lady, -and her awkward, repulsive neighbour. Yet I was glad, too, that Victor -did not care for her. All my old affection for him came back with a -gush, and I wrung his hand, and cried like a fool to think we were so -soon to be parted, perhaps for years. The other boys were singing -_Dulce domum_ in the schoolroom, hands joined, dancing round and round, -and stamping wildly with the chorus, like so many Bacchanals; they had -no regrets, no misgivings; they were not going to leave for _good_. -Even Manners looked forward to his temporary release with bright -anticipations of amusement. He was to spend the vacation with a -clerical cousin in Devonshire, the cousin of whom we all knew so much by -report, and who, indeed, to judge by his relative's account, must have -been an individual of extraordinary talents and attainments. The usher -approached us with an expression of mingled pleasure and pain on his -good-looking, vacant countenance. He had nearly finished packing his -things, and was now knocking the dust out of those old green slippers I -remembered when first I came to Everdon. He was a good-hearted fellow, -and was sorry to lose his two old friends. - -"We shall miss you both very much next half," said he; "nothing but -little boys here now. Everdon is not what it used to be. Dear me, we -never have such a pupil as Ropsley now. When you two are gone there -will be no one left for me to associate with: this is not a place for a -man of energy, for a man that feels he is a man," added Manners, -doubling his arm, and feeling if the biceps was still in its right -place. "Here am I now, with a muscular frame, a good constitution, a -spirit of adventure, and a military figure" (appealing to me, for -Victor, as usual, was beginning to laugh), "and what chances have I of -using my advantages in this circumscribed sphere of action? I might as -well be a weak, puny stripling, without an atom of nerve, or manliness, -or energy, for all the good I am likely to do here. I must cut it, -Egerton; I must find a career; I am too good for an usher--an usher," he -repeated, with a strong expression of disgust; "I, who feel fit to fight -my way anywhere--I have mistaken my profession--I ought to have been an -officer--a cavalry officer; that would have suited me better than this -dull, insipid life. I must consult my cousin about it; perhaps we shall -meet again in some very different scenes. What say you, De Rohan, -should you not be surprised to see me at the head of a regiment?" - -Victor could conceal his mirth no longer, and Manners turned somewhat -angrily to me. "You seem to be very happy as you are," I answered, -sadly, for I was contrasting his well-grown, upright figure and simple -fresh-coloured face, with my own repulsive exterior, and thinking how -willingly I would change places with him, although he _was_ an usher; -"but wherever we meet, I am sure _I_ shall be glad to see you again." -In my own heart I thought Manners was pretty certain to be at Everdon if -I should revisit it that day ten years, as I was used to these visionary -schemes of his for the future, and had heard him talk in the same strain -every vacation regularly since I first came to school. - -But there was little time now for such speculations. The chaises were -driving round to the door to take the boys away. March bid us an -affectionate farewell in his study. Victor and I were presented -respectively with a richly-bound copy of _Horatius Flaccus_ and -_Virgilius Maro_--copies which, I fear, in after life, were never soiled -by too much use. The last farewell was spoken--the last pressure of the -hand exchanged--and we drove off on our different destinations; my -friend bound for London, Paris, and his beloved Hungary; myself, longing -to see my father once more, and taste the seclusion and repose of Alton -Grange. To no boy on earth could a school-life have been more -distasteful than to me; no boy could have longed more ardently for the -peaceful calm of a domestic hearth, and yet I felt lonely and out of -spirits even now, when I was going home. - - - - - CHAPTER XII - - ALTON GRANGE - - -A dreary old place was Alton Grange, and one which would have had a -sobering, not to say saddening, effect, even on the most mercurial -temperament. To one naturally of a melancholy turn of mind, its aspect -was positively dispiriting. Outside the house the grounds were -overgrown with plantations and shrubberies, unthinned, and luxuriating -into a wilderness that was not devoid of beauty, but it was a beauty of -a sombre and uncomfortable character. Every tree and shrub of the -darkest hues, seemed to shut out the sunlight from Alton Grange. Huge -cedars overshadowed the slope behind the house; hollies, junipers, and -yew hedges kept the garden in perpetual night. Old-fashioned terraces, -that should have been kept in perfect repair, were sliding into decay -with mouldering walls and unpropped banks, whilst a broken stone -sun-dial, where sun never shone, served but to attract attention to the -general dilapidation around. - -It was not the old family place of the Egertons. That was in a northern -county, and had been sold by my father in his days of wild extravagance, -long ago; but he had succeeded to it in right of his mother, at a time -when he had resolved, if possible, to save some remnant from the wreck -of his property, and, when in England, he had resided here ever since. -To me it was home, and dearly I loved it, with all its dulness and all -its decay. The inside corresponded with the exterior. Dark passages, -black wainscotings, everywhere the absence of light; small as were the -windows, they were overhung with creepers, and the walls were covered -with ivy; damp in winter, darkness in summer, were the distinguishing -qualities of the old house. Of furniture there was but a scanty supply, -and that of the most old-fashioned description: high-backed chairs of -carved oak, black leathern _fauteuils_, chimney-pieces that the tallest -housemaid could never reach to dust, would have impressed on a stranger -ideas of anything but comfort, whilst the decorations were confined to -two or three hideous old pictures, representing impossible sufferings of -certain fabulous martyrs; and one or two sketches of my father's, which -had arrived at sufficient maturity to leave the painting-room, and adorn -the every-day life of the establishment. - -The last-named apartment was cheerful enough: it was necessarily -supplied with a sufficiency of daylight, and as my father made it his -own peculiar den, and spent the greater part of his life in it, there -were present many smaller comforts and luxuries which might have been -sought elsewhere in the house in vain. But no room was ever comfortable -yet without a woman. Men have no idea of order without formality, or -abundance without untidiness. My father had accumulated in his own -particular retreat a heterogeneous mass of articles which should have -had their proper places appointed, and had no business mixed up with his -colours, and easel, and brushes. Sticks, whips, cloaks, umbrellas, -cigar-boxes, swords, and fire-arms were mingled with lay-figures, -models, studies, and draperies, in a manner that would have driven an -orderly person out of his senses; but my father never troubled his head -about these matters, and when he came in from a walk or ride, would -fling his hat down in one corner of the room, the end of his cigar in -another, his cloak or whip in a third, and begin painting again with an -avidity that seemed to grow fiercer from the enforced abstinence of a -few hours in taking necessary exercise. My poor father! I often think -if he had devoted less attention to his art, and more to the common -every-day business of life, which no one may neglect with impunity, how -much better he would have succeeded, both as a painter and a man. - -He was hard at work when I came home from school. I knew well where to -find him, and hurried at once to the painting-room. He was seated at -his easel, but as I entered he drew a screen across the canvas, and so -hid his work from my inquiring gaze. I never knew him do so before; on -the contrary, it had always seemed his greatest desire to instil into -his son some of his own love for the art; but I had hardly time to think -of this ere I was in his arms, looking up once more in the kind face, on -which I never in my whole life remembered to have seen a harsh -expression. He was altered, though, and thinner than when I had seen -him last, and his hair was now quite grey, so that the contrast with his -flashing dark eye--brighter it seemed to me than ever--was almost -unearthly. His hands, too, were wasted, and whiter than they used to be, -and the whole figure, which I remembered once a tower of strength, was -now sunk and fallen in, particularly about the chest and shoulders. -When he stood up, it struck me, also, that he was shorter than he used -to be, and my heart tightened for a moment at the thought that, he might -be even now embarking on that long journey from which there is no -return. I remembered him such a tall, handsome, stalwart man, and now -he seemed so shrunk and emaciated, and quite to totter and lean on me -for support. - -"You are grown, my boy," said he, looking fondly at me; "you are getting -quite a man now, Vere; it will be sadly dull for you at the Grange: but -you must stay with your old father for a time--it will not be for -long--not for long," he repeated, and his eye turned to the screened -canvas, and a glance shot from it that I could hardly bear to see--so -despairing, yet so longing--so wild, and yet so fond. I had never seen -him look thus before, and it frightened me. - -Our quiet meal in the old oak parlour--our saunter after dinner through -the dark walks and shrubberies--all was so like the olden time, that I -felt quite a boy again. My father lighted up for a time into his former -good spirits and amusing sallies, but I remarked that after every flash -he sank into a deeper dejection, and I fancied the tears were in his -eyes as he wished me good-night at the door of the painting-room. I -little thought when I went to bed that it was now his habit to sit -brooding there till the early dawn of morning, when he would retire for -three or four hours to his rest. - -So the time passed away tranquilly and dully enough at Alton Grange. My -father was ever absorbed in his painting, but studied now with the door -locked, and even I was only admitted at stated times, when the -mysterious canvas was invariably screened. My curiosity, nay more, my -interest, was intensely excited; I longed, yet feared, to know what was -the subject of this hidden picture; twenty times was I on the point of -asking my father, but something in his manner gave me to understand that -it was a prohibited subject, and I forbore. There was that in his -bearing which at once checked curiosity on a subject he was unwilling to -reveal, and few men would have dared to question my father where he did -not himself choose to bestow his confidence. - -I read much in the old library; I took long walks once more by myself; I -got back to my dreams of Launcelot and Guenever, and knights and dames, -and "deeds of high emprize." More than ever I experienced the vague -longing for something hitherto unknown, that had unconsciously been -growing with my growth, and strengthening with my strength,--the -restless craving of which I scarcely guessed the nature, but which -weighed upon my nervous, sensitive temperament till it affected my very -brain. Had I but known then the lesson that was to be branded on my -heart in letters of fire,--could I but have foreseen the day when I -should gnaw my fetters, and yet not wish to be free,--when all that was -good, and noble, and kindly in my nature should turn to bitter -self-contempt, and hopeless, helpless apathy,--when love, fiercer than -hatred, should scorch and sting the coward that had not strength nor -courage to bear his burden upright like a man,--had I but known all -this, I had better have tied a millstone round my neck, and slept twenty -feet deep below the mere at Beverley, than pawned away hope, and life, -and energy, and manhood, for a glance of her dark eyes, a touch of her -soft hand, from the heiress of Beverley Manor. - -Yes, Alton Grange was distant but a short walk from Beverley. Many a -time I found myself roaming through the old trees at the end of the -park, looking wistfully at the angles and turrets of the beautiful Manor -House, and debating within myself whether I ought or ought not to call -and renew an acquaintance with the family that had treated me so kindly -after the scrape brought on by Bold's insubordination. That favourite -was now a mature and experienced retriever, grave, imperturbable, and of -extraordinary sagacity. Poor Bold! he was the handsomest and most -powerful dog I ever saw, with a solemn expression of countenance that -denoted as much intellect as was ever apparent on the face of a human -being. We were vastly proud of Bold's beauty at the Grange, and my -father had painted him a dozen times, in the performance of every feat, -possible or impossible, that it comes within the province of a retriever -to attempt. Bold was now my constant companion; he knew the way to -Beverley as well as to his own lair in my bed-room, where he slept. Day -after day he and I took the same road; day after day my courage failed -me at the last moment, and we turned back without making the intended -visit. At last, one morning, while I strolled as usual among the old -trees at one extremity of the park, I caught sight of a white dress -rounding the corner of the house, and entering the front door. I felt -sure it could only belong to one, and with an effort that quite -surprised even myself, I resolved to master my absurd timidity, and walk -boldly up to call. - -I have not the slightest recollection of my ringing the door-bell, nor -of the usual process by which a gentleman is admitted into a -drawing-room; the rush of blood to my head almost blinded me, but I -conclude that instinct took the place of reason, and that I demeaned -myself in no such incoherent manner as to excite the attention of the -servants, for I found myself in the beautiful drawing-room, which I -remembered I had thought such a scene of fairyland years before, and -seated, hat in hand, opposite Miss Beverley. - -She must have thought me the stupidest morning visitor that ever -obtained entrance into a country-house; indeed, had it not been for the -good-natured efforts of an elderly lady with a hooked nose, who had been -her governess, and was now a sort of companion, Miss Beverley would have -had all the conversation to herself; and I am constrained to admit that -once or twice I caught an expression of surprise on her calm sweet face, -that could only have been called up by the very inconsequent answers of -which I was guilty in my nervous abstraction. I was so taken up in -watching and admiring her, that I could think of nothing else. She was -so quiet and self-possessed, so gentle and ladylike, so cool and -well-dressed. I can remember the way in which her hair was parted and -arranged to this day. She seemed to me a being of a superior order, -something that never could by any possibility belong to the same sphere -as myself. She was more like the picture of Queen Dido than ever, but -the queen, happy and fancy free, with kindly eyes and unruffled brow; -not the deceived, broken-hearted woman on her self-selected death-bed. -I am not going to describe her--perhaps she was not beautiful to -others--perhaps I should have wished the rest of the world to think her -positively hideous--perhaps she was _then_ not so transcendently -beautiful even to me; nay, as I looked, I could pick faults in her -features and colouring. I had served a long enough apprenticeship to my -father to be able to criticise like an artist, and I could see here a -tint that might be deepened, there a plait that might be better -arranged--I do not mean to say she was perfect--I do not mean to say -that she was a goddess or an angel; but I do mean to say that if ever -there was a face on earth which to me presented the ideal of all that is -sweetest and most lovable in woman, that face was Constance Beverley's. - -And yet I was not in love with her; no, I felt something exalting, -something exhilarating in her presence--she seemed to fill the void in -my life, which had long been so wearisome, but I was not in love with -her--certainly not then. I felt less shy than usual, I even felt as if -I too had some claim to social distinction, and could play my part as -well as the rest on the shifting stage. She had the happy knack of -making others feel in good spirits and at their ease in her society. I -was not insensible to the spell, and when Sir Harry came in, and asked -kindly after his old friend, and promised to come over soon and pay my -father a visit, I answered frankly and at once; I could see even the -thoughtless Baronet was struck with the change in my manner, indeed he -said as much. - -"You must come over and stay with us, Mr. Egerton," was his hospitable -invitation; "or if your father is so poorly you cannot leave him, look -in here any day about luncheon-time. I am much from home myself, but -you will always find Constance and Miss Minim. Tell your father I will -ride over and see him to-morrow. I only came back yesterday. How -you're grown, my lad, and improved--isn't he, Constance?" - -I would have given worlds to have heard Constance's answer, but she -turned the subject with an inquiry after Bold (who was at that instant -waiting patiently for his master on the door-step), and it was time to -take leave, so I bowed myself out, with a faithful promise, that I was -not likely to forget, of calling again soon. - -"So she has not forgotten Bold," I said to myself, at least twenty -times, in my homeward walk; and I think, fond as I had always been of my -dog, I liked him that day better than ever. - -"Father," I said, as I sat that evening after dinner, during which meal -I felt conscious that I had been more lively, and, to use an expressive -term, "better company," than usual; "I must write to London for a new -coat, that black one is quite worn out." - -"Very well, Vere," answered my father, abstractedly; "tell them to make -it large enough--you grow fast, my boy." - -"Do you think I am grown, father? Indeed, I am not so very little of my -age now; and do you know, I was the strongest boy at Everdon, and could -lift a heavier weight than Manners the usher; but, father"--and here I -hesitated and stammered, till reassured by the kind smile on his dear -old face,--"I don't mind asking you, and I _do_ so wish to know--am I so -_very, very_--ugly?" I brought out the hated word with an effort--my -father burst out laughing. - -"What an odd question--why do you wish to know, Vere?" he asked. I made -no reply, but felt I was blushing painfully. My father looked wistfully -at me, while an expression as of pain contracted his wan features; and -here the conversation dropped. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - - "LETHALIS ARUNDO" - - -That week I went over again to Beverley; the next, I had a book to fetch -for Constance from Fleetsbury, that she had long wished to read, and I -took it to her a volume at a time. My father was still busy with his -painting--Sir Harry had gone off to Newmarket--Miss Minim seemed -delighted to find any one who could relieve the monotony of the Manor -House, and Constance herself treated me, now that the first awkwardness -of our re-introduction was over, like an old playmate and friend. I was -happier than I had ever been in my life. I felt an elasticity of -spirits, a self-respect and self-reliance that I had thought myself -hitherto incapable of entertaining. Oh, the joy of that blindfold time! -whilst our eyes are wilfully shut to the future that we yet know _must_ -come, whilst we bask in the sunshine and inhale the fragrance of the -rose, nor heed the thunder-cloud sleeping on the horizon, and the worm -creeping at the core of the flower. I looked on Constance as I would -have looked on an angel from heaven. I did not even confess to myself -that I loved her, I was satisfied with the intense happiness of the -present, and trembled at the bare idea of anything that might break the -spell, and interrupt the calm quiet of our lives. With one excuse or -another, I was at Beverley nearly every day; there were flowers to be -dried, for Constance was a great botanist, and I had taken up that -study, as I would have taken up shoe-making, could I have seen her a -minute a day longer for the pursuit,--there was music to be copied, and -if I could do nothing else, I could point off those crabbed -hieroglyphics like a very engraver. Then Miss Minim broke her fan, and -I walked ten miles in the rain to get it mended, with an alacrity and -devotion that must have convinced her it was not for _her_ sake: and yet -I loved Miss Minim dearly, she was so associated in my mind with -Constance, that except the young lady's own, that wizened old face -brought the blood to my brow more rapidly than any other in the world. -Oh! my heart aches when I think of that beautiful drawing-room, opening -into the conservatory, and Constance playing airs on the pianoforte that -made my nerves tingle with an ecstasy that was almost painful. Miss -Minim engaged with her crotchet-work in the background, and I, the -awkward, ungainly youth, saying nothing, hardly breathing, lest I should -break the spell; but gazing intently on the fair young face, with its -soft kind eyes, and its thrilling smile, and the smooth, shining braids -of jet-black hair parted simply on that pure brow. Mine was no love at -first sight, no momentary infatuation that has its course and burns -itself out, the fiercer the sooner, with its own unsustained violence. -No; it grew and stole upon me by degrees, I drank it in with every -breath I breathed--I fought against it till every moment of my life was -a struggle; and yet I cherished and pressed it to my heart when all was -done. I knew I was no equal for such as Miss Beverley, I knew I had no -right even to lift my eyes to so much beauty and so much goodness--I, -the awkward, ugly schoolboy, or at best the shrinking, unattractive -youth, in whose homage there was nothing for a woman to take pride, even -if she did not think it ridiculous; but yet--God! how I loved her. Not -a blossom in the garden, not a leaf on the tree, not a ray of sunshine, -nor a white cloud drifting over the heaven, but was associated in my -mind with her who was all the world to me. If I saw other women, I only -compared them with _her_; if I read of beauty and grace in my dear old -romances, or hung over the exquisite casts and spirited studies of my -father's painting-room, it was but to refer the poet's dream and the -artist's conception back to my own ideal. How I longed for beauty, -power, talent, riches, fame, everything that could exalt me above my -fellows, that I might fling all down at _her_ feet, and bid her trample -on it if she would. It was bitter to think I had nothing to offer; and -yet I felt sometimes there ought to be something touching in my -self-sacrifice. I looked for no return--I asked for no hope, no favour, -not even pity; and I gave my all. - -At first it was delightful: the halcyon days flitted on, and I was -happy. Sir Harry, when at home, treated me with the greatest kindness, -and seemed to find pleasure in initiating me into those sports and -amusements which he himself considered indispensable to the education of -a gentleman. He took me out shooting with him, and great as was my -natural aversion to the slaying of unoffending partridges and innocent -hares, I soon conquered my foolish nervousness about firing a gun, and -became no mean proficient with the double-barrel. My ancient captor, -the head keeper, now averred that "Muster Egerton was the _cooollest_ -shot he ever see for so young a gentleman, and _coool_ shots is -generally deadly!" The very fact of my not caring a straw whether I -killed my game or not, removed at once that over-anxiety which is the -great obstacle to success with all young sportsmen. It was sufficient -for me to know that a day's shooting at her father's secured two -interviews (morning and afternoon) with Constance, and I loaded, and -banged, and walked, and toiled like the veriest disciple of Colonel -Hawker that ever marked a covey. All this exercise had a beneficial -effect on my health and spirits; I grew apace, I was no longer the -square, clumsy-built dwarf; my frame was gradually developing itself -into that of a powerful, athletic man. I was much taller than Constance -now, and not a little proud of that advantage. Having no others with -whom to compare myself, I began to hope that I was, after all, not much -worse-looking than the rest of my kind; and by degrees a vague idea -sprang up in my mind, though I never presumed to give it shape and -consistency, that Constance might some day learn to look kindly upon me, -and that perhaps, after many, many years, the time would come when I -should dare to throw myself at her feet and tell her how I had -worshipped her; not to ask for a return, but only to tell her how true, -and hopeless and devoted had been my love. After that I thought I could -die happy. - -Weeks grew to months, and months to years, and still no change took -place in my habits and mode of life. My father talked of sending me to -Oxford, for I was now grown up, but when the time came he was loth to -part with me, and I had such a dread of anything that should take me -away from Alton, that I hailed the abandonment of the scheme with -intense joy. Constance went to London with Sir Harry during the season, -and for two or three months of the glorious summer I was sadly low and -restless and unhappy; but I studied hard during this period of -probation, to pass the time, and when she came again, and gave me her -hand with her old kind smile, I felt rewarded for all my anxieties, and -the sun began to shine for me once more. - -I was a man now in heart and feelings, and loved with all a man's ardour -and singleness of purpose, yet I never dreamed she could be mine. No; I -shut my eyes to the future, and blindfold I struggled on; but I was no -longer happy; I grew restless and excited, out of temper, petulant in -trifles, and incapable of any fixed application or sustained labour. I -was leading an aimless and unprofitable life; I was an idolater, and I -was beginning to pay the penalty; little did I know then what would be -my sufferings ere the uttermost farthing should be exacted. Something -told me the time of my happiness was drawing to a close; there is a -consciousness before we wake from a moral as well as a physical sleep, -and my awakening was near at hand. - -It was a soft grey morning early in August, one of those beautiful -summer days that we have only in England, when the sky is clouded, but -the air pure and serene, and the face of nature smiling as though in a -calm sleep. Not a breath stirred the leaves of the grand old trees in -the park at Beverley, nor rippled the milk-white surface of the mere. -The corn was ready for cutting, but scarce a sheaf had yet fallen before -the sickle; it was the very meridian and prime of the summer's beauty, -and my ladye-love had returned from her third London season, and was -still Constance Beverley. It was later than my usual hour of visiting -at the Manor, for my father had been unwell during the night, and I -would not leave him till the doctor had been, so Constance had put on -her hat and started for her morning's walk alone. She took the path -that led towards Alton, and Bold and I caught sight at the same moment -of the well-known white dress flitting under the old oaks in the park. -My heart used to stop beating when I saw her, and now I turned sick and -faint from sheer happiness. Not so Bold: directly he caught sight of -the familiar form away he scoured like an arrow, and in less than a -minute he was bounding about her, barking and frisking, and testifying -his delight with an ardour that was responded to in a modified degree by -the young lady. What prompted me I know not, but instead of walking -straight on and greeting her, I turned aside behind a tree, and, myself -unseen, watched the form of her I loved so fondly, as she stepped -gracefully on towards my hiding-place; she seemed surprised, stopped, -and looked about her, Bold meanwhile thrusting his nose into her small -gloved hand. - -"Why, Bold," said she, "you have lost your master." And as she spoke -she stooped down and kissed the dog on his broad, honest forehead. My -heart bounded as if it would have burst; never shall I forget the -sensations of that moment; not for worlds would I have accosted her -then--it would have been sacrilege, it would have seemed like taking -advantage of her frankness and honesty. No; I made a wide detour, still -concealed behind the trees, and struck in upon the path in front of her -as if I came direct from home. Why was it that her greeting was less -cordial than usual? Why was it no longer "Vere" and "Constance" between -us, but "Mr. Egerton" and "Miss Beverley"? She seemed ill at ease, too, -and her tone was harder than usual till I mentioned my father's illness, -when she softened directly. I thought there were _tears in her voice_ -as she asked me-- - -"How could I leave him if he was so poorly?" - -"Because I knew you came back yesterday, Miss Beverley, and I would not -miss being one of the first to welcome you home," was my reply. - -"Why do you call me Miss Beverley?" she broke in, with a quick glance -from under her straw hat. "Why not 'Constance,' as you used?" - -"Then why not call me 'Vere'?" I retorted; but my voice shook, and I -made a miserable attempt to appear unconcerned. - -"Very well, 'Constance' and 'Vere' let it be," she replied, laughing; -"and now, Vere, how did you know I came back yesterday?" - -"Because I saw the carriage from the top of Buttercup Hill--because I -watched there for six hours that I might make sure--because----" - -I hesitated and stopped; she turned her head away to caress Bold. Fool! -fool that I was! Why did I not tell her all then and there? Why did I -not set my fate at once upon the cast? Another moment, and it was too -late. When she turned her face again towards me it was deadly pale, and -she began talking rapidly, but in a constrained voice, of the delights -of her London season, and the gaieties of that to me unknown world, the -world of fashionable life. - -"We have had so many balls and operas and dissipations, that papa says -he is quite knocked up; and who do you think is in London, Vere, and who -do you think has been dancing with me night after night?" (I winced), -"who but your old schoolfellow, your dear old friend, Count de Rohan!" - -"Victor!" I exclaimed, and for an instant I forgot even my jealousy at -the idea of any one dancing night after night with Constance, in my joy -at hearing of my dear old schoolfellow. "Oh, tell me all about him--is -he grown? is he good-looking? is he like what he was? is he going to -stay in England? did he ask after me? is he coming down to see me at -Alton?" - -"Gently," replied Constance, with her own sweet smile. "One question at -a time, if you please, Vere, and I can answer them. He is grown, of -course, but not more than other people; he is _very_ good-looking, so -everybody says, and _I_ really think he must be, too; he is not nearly -so much altered from what he was as a boy, as some one else I know" -(with a sly glance at me), "and he talks positively of paying us a visit -early in the shooting season, to meet another old friend of yours, Mr. -Ropsley, who is to be here to-day to luncheon; I hope you will stay and -renew your acquaintance, and talk as much 'Everdon' as you did when we -were children; and now, Vere, we must go in and see papa, who has -probably by this time finished his letters." So we turned and bent our -steps (mine were most unwilling ones) towards the house. - -We had not proceeded far up the avenue, ere we were overtaken by a -postchaise laden with luggage, and carrying a most -irreproachable-looking valet on the box; as it neared us a well-known -voice called to the boy to stop, and a tall, aristocratic-looking man -got out, whom at first I had some difficulty in identifying as my former -school-fellow, Ropsley, now a captain in the Guards, and as well known -about London as the Duke of York's Column itself. He sprang out of the -carriage, and greeted Constance with the air of an old friend, but -paused and surveyed me for an instant from head to foot with a puzzled -expression that I believe was only put on for the occasion,--then seized -my hand, and declared I was so much altered and improved he had not -known me at first. This is always gratifying to a youth, and Ropsley -was evidently the same as he had always been--a man who never threw a -chance away--but what good could _I_ do him? Why should it be worth his -while to conciliate such as me? I believe he never forgot the fable of -the Lion and the Mouse. - -When the first salutations and inquiries after Sir Harry were over, he -began to converse with Constance on all those topics of the London world -with which women like so much to be made acquainted,--topics so limited -and personal that they throw the uninitiated listener completely into -the background. I held my tongue and watched my old schoolfellow. He -was but little altered since I had seen him last, save that his tall -figure had grown even taller, and he had acquired that worn look about -the eyes and mouth which a few seasons of dissipation and excitement -invariably produce even in the young. After detailing a batch of -marriages, and a batch of "failures," in all of which the names of the -sufferers were equally unknown to me, he observed, with a peculiarly -marked expression, to Constance, "Of course you know there never was -anything in that report about De Rohan and Miss Blight; but so many -people assured me it was true, that if I had not known Victor as well as -I do, I should have been almost inclined to believe it." - -I watched Constance narrowly as he spoke, and I fancied she winced. -Could it have been only my own absurd fancy? Ropsley proceeded, "I saw -him yesterday, and he desired his kindest regards to you, and I was to -say he would be here on the 3rd." - -"Oh! I am so glad!" exclaimed Constance, her whole countenance -brightening with a joyous smile, that went like a knife to my foolish, -inexperienced heart, that OUGHT to have reassured and made me happier -than ever. Does a woman confess she is "delighted" to see the man she -is really fond of? Is not that softened expression which pervades the -human face at mention of the "one loved name" more akin to a tear than a -smile? "He is so pleasant and so good-natured, and will enliven us all -so much here;" she added, turning to me, "Vere, you must come over on -the 3rd, and meet Count de Rohan; you know he is the oldest friend you -have,--an older friend even than I am." - -I was hurt, angry, maddened already, and this kind speech, with the -frank, affectionate glance that accompanied it, filled my bitter cup to -overflowing. Has a woman no compunction? or is she ignorant of the -power a few light commonplace words may have to inflict such acute pain? -Constance _cannot_ have guessed the feelings that were tearing at my -heart; but she must have seen my altered manner, and doubtless felt -herself aggrieved, and thought she had a right to be angry at my -unjustifiable display of temper. - -"I thank you," I replied, coldly and distantly; "I cannot leave my -father until he is better; perhaps De Rohan will come over and see us if -he can get away from pleasanter engagements. I fear I have stayed too -long already. I am anxious about my father, and must go home. -Good-bye, Ropsley; good-morning, Miss Beverley. Here--Bold! Bold!" - -She looked scared for an instant, then hurt, and almost angry. She -shook hands with me coldly, and turned away with more dignity than -usual. Brute, idiot that I was! even Bold showed more good feeling and -more sagacity than his master. He had been sniffing round Ropsley with -many a low growl, and every expression of dislike which a well-nurtured -dog permits himself towards his master's associates; but he looked -wistfully back at Constance as she walked away, and I really thought for -once he would have broken through all his habits of fidelity and -subordination, and followed her into the house. - -What a pleasant walk home I had I leave those to judge who, like me, -have dashed down in a fit of ill-temper the structure that they have -taken years of pain, and labour, and self-denial to rear on high. Was -this, then, my boasted chivalry--my truth and faith that was to last for -ever--to fight through all obstacles--to be so pure, and holy, and -unwavering, and to look for no return? I had failed at the first trial. -How little I felt, how mean and unworthy, how far below my own standard -of what a man should be--my ideal of worth, that I had resolved I would -attain. And Ropsley, too--the cold, calculating, cynical man of the -world--Ropsley must have seen it all. I had placed myself in his -power--nay, more, I had compromised _her_ by my own display of -bitterness and ill-temper. What right had I to show any one how I loved -her? nay, what right had I to love her at all? The thought goaded me -like a sting. I ran along the foot-path, Bold careering by my side--I -sprang over the stiles like a madman, as I was; but physical exertion -produced at last a reaction on the mind. I grew gradually calmer and -more capable of reasoning; a resolution sprang up in my heart that had -never before taken root in that undisciplined soil. I determined to win -her, or die in the attempt. - -"Yes," I thought, "from this very day I will devote all my thoughts, all -my energies, to the one great work. Beautiful, superior, unattainable as -she is, surely the whole devotion of a life must count for -something--surely God will not permit a human being to sacrifice his -very soul in vain." (Folly! folly! Ought I not to have known that this -very worship was idolatry, blasphemy of the boldest, to offer the -creature a tribute that belongs only to the Creator--to dare to call on -His name in witness of my mad rebellion and disloyalty?) "Surely I -shall some day succeed, or fall a victim to that which I feel convinced -must be the whole aim and end of my existence. Yes, I will consult my -kind old father--I will declare myself at once honestly to Sir Harry. -After all, I, too, am a gentleman; I have talents; I will make my way; -with such a goal in view I can do anything; there is no labour I would -shrink from, no danger I should fear to face, with Constance as the -prize of my success;" and I reached the old worn-out gates of Alton -Grange repeating to myself several of those well-known adages that have -so many premature and ill-advised attempts to answer for--"Fortune -favours the bold;" "Faint heart never won fair lady;" "Nothing venture, -nothing have," etc. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - - THE PICTURE - - -My father was very weak, and looked dreadfully ill: the doctor had -recommended repose and absence of all excitement; "especially," said the -man of science, "let us abstain from painting. Gentle exercise, -generous living, and quiet, absolute quiet, sir, can alone bring us -round again." Notwithstanding which professional advice, I found the -patient in his dressing-gown, hard at work as usual with his easel and -colours, but this time the curtain was not hastily drawn over the -canvas, and my father himself invited me to inspect his work. - -I came in heated and excited; my father was paler than ever, and seemed -much exhausted. He looked very grave, and his large dark eyes shone -with an ominous and unearthly light. - -"Vere," said he, "sit down by me. I have put off all I had to say to -you, my boy, till I fear it is too late. I want to speak to you now as -I have never spoken before. Where have you been this morning, Vere?" - -I felt my colour rising at the question, but I looked him straight in -the face, and answered boldly, "At Beverley Manor, father." - -"Vere," he continued, "I am afraid you care for Miss Beverley,--nay, it -is no use denying it," he proceeded; "I ought to have taken better care -of you. I have neglected my duty as a father, and my sins, I fear, are -to be visited upon my child. Look on that canvas, boy; the picture is -finished now, and my work is done. Vere, that is your mother." - -It was the first time I had ever heard that sacred name from my father's -lips. I had often wished to question him about her, but I was always -shy, and easily checked; whilst he from whom alone I could obtain -information, I have already said, was a man that brooked no inquiries on -a subject he chose should remain secret, so that hitherto I had been -kept in complete ignorance of the whole history of one parent. As I -looked on her likeness now, I began for the first time to realise the -loss I had sustained. - -The picture was of a young and gentle-looking woman, with deep, dark -eyes, and jet-black hair; a certain thickness of eyebrows and width of -forehead denoted a foreign origin; but whatever intensity of expression -these peculiarities may have imparted to the upper part of her -countenance, was amply redeemed by the winning sweetness of her mouth, -and the delicate chiselling of the other features. She was pale of -complexion, and looked somewhat sad and thoughtful; but there was a -depth of trust and affection in those fond eyes that spoke volumes for -the womanly earnestness and simplicity of her character. It was one of -those pictures that, without knowing the original, you feel at once must -be a likeness. I could not keep down the tears as I whispered, "Oh, -mother, mother, why did I never know you?" - -My father's face grew dark and stern: "Vere," said he, "the time has -come when I must tell you all. It may be that your father's example may -serve as a beacon to warn you from the rock on which so many of us have -made shipwreck. When I was your age, my boy, I had no one to control -me, no one even to advise. I had unlimited command of money, a high -position in society, good looks--I may say so without vanity -now--health, strength, and spirits, all that makes life enjoyable, and I -enjoyed it. I was in high favour with the Prince. I was sought after -in society; my horses won at Newmarket, my jests were quoted in the -Clubs, my admiration was coveted by the 'fine ladies,' and I had the -ball at my foot. Do you think I was happy? No. I lived for myself; I -thought only of pleasure, and of pleasure I took my fill; but pleasure -is a far different thing from happiness, or should I have wandered away -at the very height of my popularity and success, to live abroad by -myself with my colours and sketch-book, vainly seeking the peace of mind -which was not to be found at home? I was bored, Vere, as a man who leads -an aimless life always is bored. Fresh amusements might stave off the -mental disease for a time, but it came back with renewed virulence; and -I cared not at what expense I purchased an hour's immunity with the -remedy of fierce excitement. But I never was faithless to my art. -Through it all I loved to steal away and get an hour or two at the -easel. Would I had devoted my lifetime to it. How differently should I -feel now. - -"One winter I was painting in the Belvidere at Vienna. A young girl -timidly looked over my shoulder at my work, and her exclamation of -artless wonder and admiration was so gratifying, that I could not resist -the desire of making her acquaintance. This I achieved without great -difficulty. She was the daughter of a bourgeois merchant, one not -moving in the same society as myself, and, consequently, unknown to any -of my associates. Perhaps this added to the charm of our acquaintance; -perhaps it imparted the zest of novelty to our intercourse. Ere I -returned to London, I was fonder of Elise than I had ever yet been of -any woman in the world. Why did I not make her mine? Oh! pride and -selfishness; I thought it would be a _mésalliance_--I thought my London -friends would laugh at me--I thought I should lose my liberty.--Liberty, -forsooth! when one's will depends on a fool's sneer. And yet I think if -I had known her faith and truth, I would have given up all for her, even -then. So I came back to England, and the image of my pale, lovely Elise -haunted me more than I liked. I rushed deeper into extravagance and -dissipation; for two years I gambled and speculated, and rioted, till at -the end of that period I found ruin staring me in the face. I saved a -competency out of the wreck of my property; and by Sir Harry's -advice--our neighbour, Vere; you needn't wince, my boy--I managed to -keep the old house here as a refuge for my old age. Then, and not till -then, I thought once more of Elise--oh, hard, selfish heart!--not in the -wealth and luxury which I ought to have been proud to offer up at her -feet, but in the poverty and misfortune which I felt would make her love -me all the better. I returned to Vienna, determined to seek her out and -make her my own. I soon discovered her relatives; too soon I heard what -had become of her. In defiance of all their wishes, she had resolutely -refused to make an excellent marriage provided for her according to the -custom of her country. She would give no reasons; she obstinately -denied having formed any previous attachment; but on being offered the -alternative, she preferred 'taking the veil,' and was even then a nun, -immured in a convent within three leagues of Vienna. What could I do? -Alas! I know full well what I ought to have done; but I was headstrong, -violent, and passionate: never in my life had I left a desire -ungratified, and now could I lose the one ardent wish of my whole -existence for the sake of a time-worn superstition and an unmeaning vow? -Thus I argued, and on such fallacious principles I acted. - -"Vere, my boy, right is right, and wrong is wrong. You always know in -your heart of hearts the one from the other. Never stifle that -instinctive knowledge, never use sophistry to persuade yourself you may -do that which you feel you ought not. I travelled down at once to the -convent. I heard her at vespers; I knew that sweet, silvery voice -amongst all the rest. As I stood in the old low-roofed chapel, with the -summer sunbeams streaming across the groined arches and the quaint -carved pews, and throwing a flood of light athwart the aisle, while the -organ above pealed forth its solemn tones, and called us all to -repentance and prayer, how could I meditate the evil deed? How could I -resolve to sacrifice her peace of mind for ever to my own wild -happiness? Vere, I carried her off from the convent--I eluded all -pursuit, all suspicion--I took her with me to the remotest part of -Hungary, her own native country. For the first few weeks I believe she -was deliriously happy, and then--it broke her heart. Yes, Vere, she -believed she had lost her soul for my sake. She never reproached me--she -never even repined in words; but I saw, day after day, the colour fading -on her cheek, the light growing brighter in her sunken eye. She drooped -like a lily with a worm at its core. For one short year I held her in -my arms; I did all that man could to cheer and comfort her--in vain. -She smiled upon me with the wan, woful smile that haunts me still; and -she died, Vere, when you were born." My father hid his face for a few -seconds, and when he looked up again he was paler than ever. - -"My boy," he murmured, in a hoarse, broken voice, "you have been -sacrificed. Forgive me, forgive me, my child; _you are illegitimate_." -I staggered as if I had been shot--I felt stunned and stupefied--I saw -the whole desolation of the sentence which had just been passed upon me. -Yes, I was a bastard; I had no right even to the name I bore. Never -again must I hold my head up amongst my fellows; never again indulge in -those dreams of future distinction, which I only now knew I had so -cherished; _never, never_ think of Constance more! It was all over now; -there was nothing left on earth for me. - -There is a reaction in the nature of despair. I drew myself up, and -looked my father steadily in the face. - -"Father," I said, "whatever happens, I am your son; do not think I shall -ever reproach you. Even now you might cast me off if you chose, and -none could blame you; but I will never forget you,--whatever happens, I -will always love you the same." He shook in every limb, and for the -first time in my recollection, he burst into a flood of tears; they -seemed to afford him relief, and he proceeded with more composure-- - -"I can never repay the injury I have done you, Vere; and now listen to -me and forgive me if you can. All I have in the world will be yours; in -every respect I wish you to be my representative, and to bear my name. -No one knows that I was not legally married to _her_, except Sir Harry -Beverley. Vere, your look of misery assures me that I have told you -_too late_. I am indeed punished in your despair. I ought to have -watched over you with more care. I had intended to make you a great -man, Vere. In your childhood I always hoped that my own talent for art -would be reproduced in my boy, and that you would become the first -painter of the age, and then none would venture to question your -antecedents or your birth. When I found I was to be disappointed in -this respect, I still hoped that with the competency I shall leave you, -and your own retired habits, you might live happily enough in ignorance -of the brand which my misconduct has inflicted on you. But I never -dreamed, my child, that you should set your heart on _his_ daughter, who -can alone cast this reproach in your teeth. It is hopeless--it is -irretrievable. My boy, my boy! your prospects have been ruined, and now -I fear your heart is breaking, and all through me. My punishment is -greater than I can bear." - -My father stopped again. He was getting fearfully haggard, and seemed -quite exhausted. He pointed to the picture which he had just completed. - -"Day after day, Vere," he murmured, "I have been working at that -likeness, and day after day her image seems to have come back more -vividly into my mind. I have had a presentiment, that when it was quite -finished it would be time for me to go. It is the best picture I ever -painted. Stand a little to the left, Vere, and you will get it in a -better light. I must leave you soon, my boy, but it is to go to her. -Forgive me, Vere, and think kindly of your old father when I am gone. -Leave me now for a little, my boy; I must be alone. God bless you, -Vere!" - -[Illustration: "'My father was apparently asleep...!'" _Page 111_] - -I left the painting-room, and went into the garden to compose my mind, -and recover, if possible, from the stunning effects of my father's -intelligence. I walked up and down, like a man in a dream. I could not -yet realise the full extent of my misery. The hours passed by, and -still I paced the gravel walk under the yew-trees, and took no heed of -time or anything else. At length a servant came to warn me that dinner -was waiting, and I went back to the painting-room to call my father. -The door was not locked, as it had hitherto been, and my father was -apparently asleep, with his head resting on one arm, and the brush, -fallen from his other hand, on the floor. As I touched his shoulder to -wake him, I remarked that hand was clenched and stiff. Wake him! he -would never wake again. How I lived through that fearful evening I know -not. There was a strange confusion in the house,--running up and down -stairs, hushed voices, ghostly whisperings. The doctors came. I know -not what passed. They called it aneurism of the heart; I recollect that -much; but everything was dim and indistinct till, a week afterwards, -when the funeral was over, I seemed to awake from a dream, and to find -myself alone in the world. - - - - - CHAPTER XV - - BEVERLEY MERE - - -What contrasts there are in life! Light and shade, Lazarus and Dives, -the joyous spirit and the broken heart, always in juxtaposition. Here -are two pictures not three miles apart. - -A pale, wan young man, dressed in black, with the traces of deep grief -on his countenance, and his whole bearing that of one who is thoroughly -overcome and prostrated by sorrow, sits brooding over an untasted -breakfast; the room he occupies is not calculated to shed a cheering -influence on his reflections: it is a long, low, black-wainscoted -apartment, well stored with books, and furnished in a curious and -somewhat picturesque style with massive chairs and quaintly carved -cabinets. Ancient armour hangs from the walls, looming ghostly and -gigantic in the subdued light, for although it is a bright October -morning out-of-doors, its narrow windows and thick walls make Alton -Grange dull and sombre and gloomy within. A few sketches, evidently by -the hand of a master, are hung in favourable lights. More than one are -spirited representations of a magnificent black-and-white retriever--the -same that is now lying on the floor, his head buried between his huge, -strong paws, watching his master's figure with unwinking eyes. That -master takes no notice of his favourite. Occasionally he fixes his -heavy glance on a picture hanging over the chimney-piece, and then -withdraws it with a low stifled moan of anguish, at which the dog raises -his head wistfully, seeming to recognise a too familiar sound. The -picture is of a beautiful foreign-looking woman; its eyes and eyebrows -are reproduced in that sorrow-stricken young man. They are mother and -son; and they have never met. Could she but have seen me then! If ever -a spirit might revisit earth to console the weary pilgrim here, surely -it would be a mother's, bringing comfort to a suffering child. How I -longed for her love and her sympathy. How I felt I had been -robbed--yes, _robbed_--of my rights in her sad and premature death. -Reader, have you never seen a little child, after a fall, or a blow, or -some infantine wrong or grievance, run and hide its weeping face in its -mother's lap? Such is the first true impulse of our childish nature, -and it is never completely eradicated from the human breast. The -strong, proud man, though he may almost forget her in his triumphs and -successes, goes to his mother for consolation when he is overtaken by -sorrow, deceived in his affections, wounded in his feelings, or sad and -sick at heart. There he knows he is secure of sympathy and consolation; -there he knows he will not be judged harshly, and as the world judges; -there he knows that, do what he will, is a fountain of love and -patience, never to run dry; and for one blessed moment he is indeed a -child again. God help those who, like me, have never known a mother's -love. Such are the true orphans, and such He will not forget. - -Bold loses patience at last, and pokes his cold, wet nose into my hand. -Yes, Bold, it is no use to sit brooding here. "Hie, boy! fetch me my -hat." The dog is delighted with his task: away he scampers across the -hall--he knows well which hat to choose--and springing at the -crape-covered one, brings it to me in his mouth, his fine honest -countenance beaming with pride, and his tail waving with delight. We -emerge through a glass door into the garden, and insensibly, for the -first time since my father's death, we take the direction of Beverley -Manor. - -This is a dark and sadly-shaded picture; let us turn to one of brighter -lights and more variegated colouring. The sun is streaming into a -beautiful little breakfast-room opening on a conservatory, with flowers, -and a fountain of gold-fish, and all that a conservatory should have. -The room itself is richly papered and ornamented, perhaps a little too -profusely, with ivory and gilding. Two or three exquisite landscapes in -water-colours adorn the walls; and rose-coloured hangings shed a soft, -warm light over the furniture and the inmates. The former is of a light -and tasteful description--low, soft-cushioned _fauteuils_, thin cane -chairs, bright-coloured ottomans and footstools, Bohemian glass vases -filled with flowers--everything gay, vivid, and luxurious; a good fire -burning cheerfully on the hearth, and a breakfast-table, with its snowy -cloth and bright silver belongings, give an air of homely comfort to the -scene. The latter consists of four persons, who have met together at -the morning meal every day now for several weeks. Constance Beverley -sits at the head of the table making tea; Ropsley and Sir Harry, dressed -in wondrous shooting apparel, are busily engaged with their breakfast; -and Miss Minim is relating to the world in general her sufferings from -rheumatism and neuralgia, to which touching narrative nobody seems to -think it necessary to pay much attention. Ropsley breaks in abruptly by -asking Miss Beverley for another cup of tea. He treats her with studied -politeness, but never takes his cold grey eye off her countenance. The -girl feels that he is watching her, and it makes her shy and -uncomfortable. - -"Any news, Ropsley?" says Sir Harry, observing the pile of letters at -his friend's elbow; "no _officials_, I hope, to send you back to -London." - -"None as yet, thank Heaven, Sir Harry," replies his friend; "and not -much in the papers. We shall have war, I think." - -"Oh, don't say so, Mr. Ropsley," observes Constance, with an anxious -look. "I trust we shall never see anything so horrid again." - -Miss Minim remarks that "occasional wars are beneficial, nay, necessary -for the welfare of the human race," illustrating her position by the -familiar metaphor of thunderstorms, etc.; but Ropsley, who has quite the -upper hand of Miss Minim, breaks in upon her ruthlessly, as he observes, -"The funds gone down a fraction, Sir Harry, I see. I think one ought to -sell. By-the-bye, I've a capital letter from De Rohan, at Paris. You -would like to hear what he is about, Miss Beverley, I am sure." - -Constance winced and coloured. It was Ropsley's game to assert a sort -of matter-of-course _tendresse_ on her part for my Hungarian friend, -which he insisted on so gradually, but yet so successfully, as to give -him the power of making her uneasy at the mention of "De Rohan's" name. -He wished to establish an influence over her, and this was the only -manner in which he could do so; but Ropsley was a man who only asked to -insert the point of the wedge, he could trust himself to do the rest. -Yet, with all his knowledge of human nature, he made this one great -mistake, he judged of women by the other half of mankind; so he looked -pointedly at Constance as he added, "I'll read you what he says, or, -perhaps, Miss Beverley, you would like to see his letter?" - -He had now driven her a little too far, and she turned round upon him. - -"Really, Mr. Ropsley, I don't wish to interfere with your -correspondence. I hate to read other people's letters; and Count de -Rohan has become such a stranger now that I have almost forgotten him." - -She was angry with herself immediately she had spoken. It seemed so like -the remark of a person who was piqued. Ropsley would be more than ever -convinced now that she cared for him. Sir Harry, too, looked up from -his plate, apparently at his daughter's unusual vehemence. The girl bit -her lips, and wished she had held her tongue. Ropsley saw he had marked -up another point in the game. - -"Very true," said he, with his quiet, well-bred smile: "old playfellows -and old school-days cannot be expected to last all one's life. However, -Victor does not forget us. He seems to be very gay, though, and rather -dissipated, at Paris; knows all the world and goes everywhere; ran a -horse last week at Chantilly. You know Chantilly, Sir Harry." - -The Baronet's face brightened. He had won a cup, given by Louis -Philippe, from all the foreigners there on one occasion, and he liked to -be reminded of it. - -"Know it," said he, "I should think I do. Why, I trained -Flibbertigibbet in the park here myself--I and the old coachman. We -never sent him to my own trainer at Newmarket, but took him over -ourselves, and beat them all. That was the cup you saw in the centre of -the dinner-table yesterday. The two-year-old we tried at Lansdowne was -his grandson. Ah! Ropsley, I wish I had taken your advice about him." - -Ropsley was, step by step, obtaining great influence over Sir Harry. He -returned to the subject of old friendships. - -"By-the-bye, Miss Beverley, have you heard anything of poor Egerton? I -fear his father's death will be a sad blow to him. I tremble for the -consequences." - -And here he touched his forehead, with a significant look at Sir Harry. - -Constance was a true woman. She was always ready too vigorously to -defend an absent friend, but she was no match for her antagonist; she -could not keep cool. - -"What do you mean?" said she, angrily. "Why should you tremble, as you -call it, for Vere?" - -Ropsley put on his most provoking air, as he answered, with a sort of -playful mock deference-- - -"I beg your pardon, Miss Beverley, I am continually affronting you, this -unlucky morning. First, I bore you about De Rohan, thinking you _do_ -care for your old friends; then I make you angry with me about Egerton, -believing you _don't_. After all, I said no harm about him; nothing -more than we all know perfectly well. He always was eccentric as a -boy--he is more so than ever, I think, now; and I only meant that I -feared any sudden shock or violent affliction might upset his nervous -system, and, in short--may I ask you for a little more cream?--end in -total derangement. The fact is," he added, _sotto voce_, to Sir Harry, -"he is as mad as Bedlam now." - -He saw the girl's lip quiver, and her hand shake as she gave him his -cup; but he kept his cold grey eye fastened on her. He seemed to read -her most secret thoughts, and she feared him now--actually feared him. -Well, it was always something gained. He proceeded good-humouredly-- - -"Do we shoot on the island to-day, Sir Harry?" he asked of his host. -"Perhaps Miss Beverley will come over to our luncheon in her boat. How -pretty you have made that island, Sir Harry; and what a place for ducks -about sundown!" - -The island was a pet toy of Sir Harry's; he was pleased, as usual, with -his friend's good taste. - -"Yes, come over to luncheon, Constance," said he. "You can manage the -boat quite well that short way." - -"No, thank you, papa," answered Constance, with a glance at Ropsley; -"the boat is out of repair, and I had rather not run the risk of an -upset." - -"You used to be so fond of boating, Miss Beverley," observed Ropsley, -with his scarcely perceptible sneer. "You and Egerton used to be always -on the water. Perhaps you don't like it without a companion; pray don't -think of coming on our account. I quite agree with you, it makes all -the difference in a water-party." - -Constance began to talk very fast to her father. - -"I'll come, papa, after all, I think," said she; "it is such a beautiful -day! and the boat will do very well, I dare say--and I'm so fond of the -water, papa; and--and I'll go and put my bonnet on now. I've got two or -three things to do in the garden before I start." - -So she hurried from the room, but not till Ropsley had presented her -with a sprig of geranium he had gathered in the conservatory, and -thanked her in a sort of mock-heroic speech for her kindness in so -readily acceding to his wishes. - -Would he have been pleased or not, could he have seen her in the privacy -of her own apartment, which she had no sooner reached than she dashed -his gift upon the floor, stamping on it with her little foot as though -she would crush it into atoms, while her bosom heaved, and her dark eyes -filled with tears, shed she scarce knew why? She had a vague -consciousness of humiliation, and an undefined feeling of alarm that she -could not have accounted for even to herself, but which was very -uncomfortable notwithstanding. - -The gentlemen put on their belts and shooting apparatus; and Ropsley, -with the sneer deepening on his well-cut features, whispered to himself, -"_Pour le coup, papillon, je te tiens_." - -Bold and I strolled leisurely along: the dog indulging in his usual -vagaries on the way; his master brooding and thoughtful, reflecting on -the many happy times he had trod the same pathway when he was yet in -ignorance of the fatal secret, and how it was all over now. My life was -henceforth to be a blank. I began to speculate, as I had never -speculated before, on the objects and aims of existence. What had I -done, I thought, that I should be doomed to be _so_ miserable?--that I -should have neither home nor relatives nor friends?--that, like the poor -man whose rich neighbour had flocks and herds and vineyards, I should -have but my one pet lamb, and even that should be taken away from me? -Then I thought of my father's career--how I had been used to look up to -him as the impersonation of all that was admirable and enviable in man. -With his personal beauty and his princely air and his popularity and -talent, I used to think my father must be perfectly happy. And now to -find that he too had been living with a worm at his heart! But then he -had done wrong, and he suffered rightly, as he himself confessed, for -the sins of his youth. And I tried to think myself unjustly treated; -for of what crimes had I been guilty, that I should suffer too? My -short life had been blameless, orderly, and dutiful. Little evil had I -done; but even then my conscience whispered--Much good had I left -undone. I had lived for myself and my own affections; I had not trained -my mind for a career of usefulness to my fellow-men. It is not enough -that a human being should abstain from gross, palpable evil; he must -follow actual good. It is better to go down into the market, and run -your chance of the dirt that shall soil it, and the hands it shall pass -through, in making your one talent ten talents, than to hide it up in a -napkin, and stand aloof from your fellow-creatures, even though it -should give you cause, like the Pharisee, to "thank God that you are not -as other men are." - -"Steady, Bold! Heel, good dog, heel! You hear them shooting, I know, -and you would like well to join the sport. Bang! bang! there they go -again. It is Sir Harry and his guest at their favourite amusement. We -will stay here, old dog, and perhaps we may see her once more, if only -at a distance, and we shall not have had our walk for nothing." So Bold -and I crouched quietly down amongst the tall fern, on a knoll in the -park from whence we could see the Manor House and the mere, and -Constance's favourite walk in the shrubbery which I had paced with her -so often and so happily in days that seemed now to have belonged to -another life. - -They were having capital sport in the island; it was a favourite -preserve of Sir Harry; and although artificially stocked with -pheasants--as indeed what coverts are not, for that most artificial of -all field-sports which we call a _battue_?--it had this advantage, that -the game could not possibly stray from its own feeding-place and home. -Moreover, as the fine-plumaged old cocks went whirring up out of the -copse, there was a great art in knocking them over before they were -fairly on the wing, so that the dead birds might not fall into the -water, but be picked up on _terra firma_, dry, and in good order to be -put into the bag. Many a time had I stood in the middle ride, and -brought them down right and left, to the admiration of my old -acquaintance, Mr. Barrells, and the applause of Sir Harry. Many a happy -day had I spent there, in the enjoyment of scenery, air, exercise, and -sport (not that I cared much for the latter); but, above all, with the -prospect of Constance Beverley bringing us our luncheon, or, at the -worst, the certainty of seeing her on our return to the Manor House. -How my heart ached to think it was all gone and past now! - -I watched the smoke from the sportsmen's guns as it curled up into the -peaceful autumn sky. I heard the cheery voices of the beaters, and the -tap of their sticks in the copse; but I could not see a soul, and was -myself completely unseen. I felt I was looking on what had so long been -my paradise for the last time, and I lost the consciousness of my own -identity in the dreamy abstraction with which I regarded all around. It -seemed to me as if another had gone through the experiences of my past -life, or rather as if I was no longer Vere Egerton, but one who had -known him and pitied him, and would take some little interest in him for -the future, but would probably see very little of him again. I know not -whether other men experience such strange fancies, or whether it is but -the natural effect of continued sorrow, which stuns the mental sense, -even as continued pain numbs that of the body; but I have often felt -myself retracing my own past or speculating on my own future, almost -with the indifference of an uninterested spectator. Something soon -recalled me to myself. Bold had the eye of a hawk, but I saw her before -Bold did; long ere my dog erected his silken ears and stopped his -panting breath, my beating heart and throbbing pulses made me feel too -keenly that I was Vere Egerton again. - -She seemed to walk more slowly than she used; the step was not so light; -the head no longer carried so erect, so naughtily; she had lost the -deer-like motion I admired so fondly; but oh! how much better I loved to -see her like this. I watched as a man watches all he loves for the -_last_ time. I strove, so to speak, to print her image on my brain, -there to be carried a life-long photograph. She walked slowly down -towards the mere, her head drooping, her hands clasped before her, -apparently deep, deep in her own thoughts. I would have given all I had -in the world could I but have known what those thoughts were. She -stopped at the very place where once before she had caressed Bold; she -gathered a morsel of fern and placed it in her bosom; then she walked on -faster, like one who wakes from a train of profound and not altogether -happy reflections. - -Meanwhile I had the greatest difficulty in restraining my dog. Good, -faithful Bold was all anxiety to scour off at first sight of her, and -greet his old friend. He whined piteously when I forbade him. I -thought she must have heard him; but no, she walked quietly on towards -the water, loosed her little skiff from its moorings, got into it, and -pushed off on the smooth surface of the mere. - -She spread the tiny sail, and the boat rippled its way slowly through -the water. The little skiff was a favourite toy of Constance, and I had -taught her to manage it very dexterously. At the most it would hold but -two people; and many an hour of ecstasy had I passed on the mere in "The -Queen Mab," as we sportively named it, drinking in every look and tone -of my idolised companion: poison was in the draught, I knew it well, and -yet I drank it to the dregs. Now I watched till my eyes watered, for I -should never steer "The Queen Mab" again. - -A shout from the shore of the island diverted my attention. Sir Harry -had evidently espied her, and was welcoming his daughter. I made out -his figure, and that of Barrells, at the water's edge; whilst the report -of a gun, and a thin column of white smoke curling upwards from the -copse, betokened the presence of Ropsley among the beaters in the -covert. When I glanced again at "The Queen Mab," it struck me she had -made but little way, though her gossamer-looking sail was filled by the -light breeze. She could not now be more than a hundred and fifty yards -from her moorings, whilst I was myself perhaps twice that distance from -the brink of the mere. Constance rises from her seat, and waves her hand -above her head. Is that her voice? Bold hears it too, and starts up to -listen. The white sail leans over. God in heaven! it is down! Vivid -like lightning the ghastly truth flashes through my brain; the boat is -waterlogged--she is sinking--my heart's darling will be drowned in my -very sight; it is ecstasy to think I can die with her, if I cannot save -her! - -"Bold! Bold! Hie, boy; go fetch her; hie, boy; hie!" - -The dog is already at the water-side; with his glorious, God-given -instinct he has understood it all. I hear the splash as he dashes in; I -see the circles thrown behind him as he swims; whilst I am straining -every nerve to reach the water's edge. What a long three hundred yards -it is! A lifetime passes before me as I speed along. I have even -leisure to think of poor Ophelia and her glorious Dane. As I run I -fling away coat, waistcoat, watch, and handkerchief. I see a white -dress by the side of the white sail. My gallant dog is nearing it even -now. The next instant I am overhead in the mere; and as I rise to the -surface, shaking the water from my lips and hair, I feel, through all my -fear and all my suspense, something akin to triumph in the long, -vigorous strokes that are shooting me onwards to my goal. Mute and -earnest I thank God for my personal strength, never appreciated till -this day; for my hardy education, and my father's swimming lessons in -the sluggish, far-away Theiss; for my gallant, faithful dog, who has -reached her even now. - -"Hold on, Bold! her dress is floating her still. Hold on, good dog. -Another ten seconds, and she is saved!" - - - * * * * * - - -Once I thought we were gone. My strength was exhausted. I had reached -the bank with my rescued love. Her pale face was close to mine; her -long, wet hair across my mouth; she was conscious still, she never lost -her senses or her courage. Once she whispered, "Bless you, my brave -Vere." But the bank was steep, and the water out of our depth to the -very edge. A root I caught at gave way. My overtaxed muscles refused -to second me. It was hard to fail at the last. I could have saved -myself had I abandoned my hold. It was delicious to know this, and then -to wind my arm tighter round her waist, and to think we should sleep -together for ever down there; but honest Bold grasped her once more in -those vigorous jaws--she bore the marks of his teeth on her white neck -for many a day. The relief thus afforded enabled me to make one -desperate effort, and we were saved. - -She fainted away when she was fairly on the bank; and I was so exhausted -I could but lie gasping at her side. Bold gave himself a vigorous shake -and licked her face. Assistance, however, was near at hand; the -accident had been witnessed from the island; Sir Harry and the keeper -had shoved off immediately in their boat, and pulled vigorously for the -spot. It was a heavy, lumbering craft, and they must have been too -late. Oh, selfish heart! I felt that had I not succeeded in saving -her, I had rather we had both remained under those peaceful waters; but -selfish though it may have been, was it not ecstasy to think that I had -rescued _her_--Constance Beverley, my own Constance--from death? I, the -ungainly, unattractive man, for whom I used to think no woman could ever -care; and she had called me "_her_ brave Vere!" HERS! She could not -unsay that; come what would, nothing could rob me of _that_. "Fortune, -do thy worst," I thought, in my thrill of delight, as I recalled those -words, "I am happy for evermore." Blind! blind! _Quem Deus vult perdere -prius dementat_. - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - - PRINCESS VOCQSAL - - -It was an accommodating _ménage_, that of Prince and Princess Vocqsal, -and was carried on upon the same system, whether they were "immured," as -Madame la Princesse called it, in the old chateau near Sieberiburgen, or -disporting themselves, as now, in the sunshine and gaiety of _her_ dear -Paris, as the same volatile lady was pleased to term that very lively -resort of the gay, the idle, and the good-for-nothing. It was the sort -of _ménage_ people do not understand in England quite so thoroughly as -abroad; the system was simple enough--"live and let live" being in -effect the motto of an ill-matched pair, who had better never have come -together, but who, having done so, resolved to make the best of that -which each found to be a bad bargain, and to see less of each other than -they could possibly have done had they remained as formerly, simply an -old cousin and a young one, instead of as now, husband and wife. - -Prince Vocqsal was the best of fellows, and the most sporting of -Hungarians. Time was, "before the Revolution, _mon cher_"--a good while -before it, he might have added--that the Prince was the handsomest man -of his day, and not indisposed to use his personal advantages for the -captivation of the opposite sex. His conquests, as he called them, in -France, Spain, Italy, not to mention the Fatherland, were, by his own -account, second only to those of Don Juan in the charming opera which -bears the name of that libertine; but his greatest triumph was to -detail, in strict confidence, of course, how he had met with _un grand -succes_ amongst _ces belles blondes Anglaises_, whose characters he was -good enough to take away with a sweeping liberality calculated to alter -a Briton's preconceived notions as to the propriety of those prudish -dames whom he had hitherto been proud to call his countrywomen. I -cannot say I consider myself bound to believe all an old gentleman, or a -young one either, has to say on that score. Men are given to lying, and -woman is an enigma better let alone. The Prince, however, clung stoutly -to his fascinations, long after time, good living, and field-sports had -changed him from a slim, romantic swain to a jolly, roundabout old -gentleman. He dyed his moustaches and whiskers, wore a belt patented to -check corpulency, and made up for the ravages of decay by the artifices -of the toilet. He could ride extremely well (for a foreigner), not in -the break-neck style which hunting men in England call "going," and -which none except an Englishman ever succeeds in attaining; but -gracefully, and like a gentleman. He could shoot with the rifle or the -smooth-bore with an accuracy not to be surpassed, and was an -"ace-of-diamonds man" with the pistol. Notwithstanding the many times -his amours had brought him "on the ground," it was his chief boast that -he had never killed his man. "I am sure of my _coup_, my dear," he -would say, with an amiable smile, and holding you affectionately by the -arm, "and I always take my antagonist just below the knee-pan. I sight -a little over the ankle, and the rise of the ball at twelve paces hits -the exact spot. There is no occasion to repeat my fire, and he lives to -be my friend." - -Added to this he was a thorough _bon vivant_, and an excellent linguist. -On all matters connected with field-sports he held forth in English, -swearing hideously, under the impression that on these topics the use of -frightful oaths was national and appropriate. He was past middle age, -healthy, good-humoured, full of fun, and he did not care a straw for -Princess Vocqsal. - -Why did he marry her? The reason was simple enough. Hunting, shooting, -horse-racing, gaiety, hospitality, love, life, and libertinism, will -make a hole in the finest fortune that ever was inherited, even in -Hungary; and Prince Vocqsal found himself at middle age, or what he -called the prime of life, with all the tastes of his youth as strong as -ever, but none of its ready money left. He looked in the glass, and -felt that even he must at length succumb to fate. - -"My cousin Rose is rich; she is moreover young and beautiful; _une femme -très distinguée et tant soit peu coquette_. I must sacrifice myself, -and Comtesse Rose shall become Princess Vocqsal." Such was the fruit of -the Prince's reflections, and it is but justice to add he made a most -accommodating and good-humoured husband. - -Comtesse Rose had no objection to being Princess Vocqsal. A thousand -flirtations and at least half-a-dozen _grandes passions_, had a little -tarnished the freshness of her youthful beauty; but what she had lost in -bloom she had gained in experience. Nobody had such a figure, so round, -so shapely, of such exquisite proportions; nobody knew so well how to -dress that figure to the greatest advantage. Her gloves were a study; -and as for her feet and ankles, their perfection was only equalled by -the generosity with which they were displayed. Then what -accomplishments, what talents! She could sing, she could ride, she -could waltz; she could play billiards, smoke cigarettes, drive four -horses, shoot with a pistol, and talk sentiment from the depths of a low -_fauteuil_ like a very Sappho. Her lovers had compared her at different -times to nearly all the heroines of antiquity, except Diana. She had -been painted in every costume, flattered in every language, and -slandered in every boudoir throughout Europe for a good many years; and -still she was bright, and fresh, and sparkling, as if Old Time too could -not resist her fascinations, but, like any other elderly gentleman, gave -her her own way, and waited patiently for his turn. Thrice happy -Princess Vocqsal!--can it be possible that you, too, are bored? - -She sits in her own magnificent _salon_, where once every week she -"receives" all the most distinguished people in Paris. How blooming she -looks with her back to the light, and her little feet crossed upon that -low footstool. Last night she had "a reception," and it was gayer and -more crowded than usual. Why did she feel a little dull to-day? Pooh! -it was only a _migraine_, or the last French novel was so insufferably -stupid; or--no, it was the want of excitement. She could not live -without that stimulus--excitement she must and would have. She had -tried politics, but the strong immovable will at the head of the -Government had given her a hint that she must put a stop to _that_; and -she knew his inflexible character too well to venture on trifling with -_him_. She was tired of all her lovers, too; she began to think, if her -husband were only thirty years younger, and less good-humoured, he would -be worth a dozen of these modern adorers. _That_ Count de Rohan, to be -sure, was a good-looking boy, and seemed utterly fancy free. -By-the-bye, he was not at the "reception" last night, though she asked -him herself the previous evening at "the Tuileries." That was very -rude; positively she must teach him better manners. A countryman, too; -it was a duty to be civil to him. And a fresh character to study, it -would be good sport to subjugate him. Probably he would call to-day to -apologise for being so remiss. And she rose and looked in the glass at -those eyes whose power needed not to be enhanced by the dexterous touch -of rouge; at that long, glossy hair, and shapely neck and bosom, as a -sportsman examines the locks and barrels of the weapon on which he -depends for his success in the chase. The review was satisfactory, and -Princess Vocqsal did not look at all bored now. She had hardly settled -herself once more in a becoming attitude, ere Monsieur le Comte de Rohan -was announced, and marched in, hat in hand, with all the grace of his -natural demeanour, and the frank, happy air that so seldom survives -boyhood. Victor was handsomer than ever, brimful of life and spirits, -utterly devoid of all conceit or affectation; and moreover, since his -father's death, one of the first noblemen of Hungary. It was a conquest -worth making. - -"I thought you would not go back without wishing me good-bye," said the -Princess, with her sweetest smile, and a blush through her rouge that -she could summon at command--indeed, this weapon had done more execution -than all the rest of her artillery put together. "I missed you last -night at my reception; why did you not come?" - -Victor blushed too. How could he explain that a little supper-party at -which some very fascinating ladies who were not of the Princess's -acquaintance had _assisted_, prevented him. He stammered out some -excuse about leaving Paris immediately, and having to make preparations -for departure. - -"And you are really going," said she, in a melancholy, pleading tone of -voice,--"going back to my dear Hungary. How I wish I could accompany -you." - -"Nothing could be easier," answered Victor, laughing gaily; "if madame -would but condescend to accept my escort, I would wait her convenience. -Say, Princess, when shall it be?" - -"Ah, now you are joking," she said, looking at him from under her long -eyelashes; "you know I cannot leave Paris, and you know that we poor -women cannot do what we like. It is all very well for you men; you get -your passports, and you are off to the end of the world, whilst we can -but sit over our work and think." - -Here a deep sigh smote on Victor's ear. It began to strike him that he -had made an impression; the feeling is very pleasant at first, and the -young Hungarian was keenly alive to it. He spoke in a much softer tone -now, and drew his chair a little nearer that of the Princess. - -"I need not go quite yet," he said, in an embarrassed tone, which -contrasted strongly with his frank manner a few minutes earlier: "Paris -is very pleasant, and--and--there are so many people here one likes." - -"And that like you," she interrupted, with an arch smile, that made her -look more charming than ever. "One is so seldom happy," she added, -relapsing once more into her melancholy air; "one meets so seldom with -kindred spirits--people that understand one; it is like a dream to be -allowed to associate with those who are really pleasing to us. A happy, -happy dream; but then the waking is so bitter, perhaps it is wiser not -to dream at all. No! Monsieur de Rohan, you had better go back to -Hungary, as you proposed." - -"Not if you tell me to stay," exclaimed Victor, his eyes brightening, -and his colour rising rapidly; "not if I can be of the slightest use or -interest to you. Only tell me what you wish me to do, madame; your word -shall be my law. Go or stay, I wait but for your commands." - -He was getting on faster than she had calculated; it was time to damp -him a little now. She withdrew her chair a foot or so, and answered -coldly-- - -"Who--I, Monsieur le Comte? I cannot possibly give you any command, -except to ring that bell. The Prince would like to see you before you -go. Let the Prince know Monsieur de Rohan is here," she added, to the -servant who answered her summons. "You were always a great favourite of -his--of _ours_, I may say;" and she bade him adieu, and gave him her -soft white hand with all her former sweetness of manner; and told her -servant, loud enough for her victim to hear, "to order the carriage, for -she meant to drive in the Bois de Boulogne:" and finally shot a Parthian -glance at him over her shoulder as she left the room by one door, whilst -he proceeded by another towards the Prince's apartments. - -No wonder Victor de Rohan quitted the house not so wise a man as he had -entered it; no wonder he was seen that same afternoon caracolling his -bay horse in the Bois de Boulogne; no wonder he went to dress moody and -out of humour, because, ride where he would, he had failed to catch a -single glimpse of the known carriage and liveries of Princess Vocqsal. - -They met, however, the following evening at a concert at the Tuileries. -The day after--oh, what good luck!--he sat next her at dinner at the -English ambassador's, and put her into her carriage at night when she -went home. Poor Victor! he dreamed of her white dress and floating -hair, and the pressure of her gloved hand. Breakfast next morning was -not half so important a meal as it used to be, and he thought the -fencing-school would be a bore. She was rapidly getting the upper hand -of young Count de Rohan. - -Six weeks afterwards he was still in Paris. The gardens of the -Tuileries were literally sparkling in the morning sun of a bright -Parisian day. The Zouaves on guard at the gate lounged over their -firelocks with their usual reckless brigand air, and leered under every -bonnet that passed them, as though the latter accomplishment were part -and parcel of a Zouave's duty. The Rue de Rivoli was alive with -carriages; the sky, the houses, the gilt-topped railings--everything -looked in full dress, as it does nowhere but in Paris; the very flowers -in the gardens were two shades brighter than in any other part of -France. All the children looked clean, all the women well dressed; even -the very trees had on their most becoming costume, and the long close -alleys smelt fresh and delicious as the gardens of Paradise. Why should -Victor de Rohan alone look gloomy and morose when all else is so bright -and fair? Why does he puff so savagely at his cigar, and glance so -restlessly under the stems of those thick-growing chestnuts? Why does -he mutter between his teeth, "False, unfeeling! the third time she has -played me this trick? No, it is not she. Oh! I should know her a mile -off. She will not come. She has no heart, no pity. She will _not_ -come. _Sappramento!_ there she is!" - -In the most becoming of morning toilettes, with the most killing little -bonnet at the back of her glossy head, the best-fitting of gloves, and -the tiniest of _chaussures_, without a lock out of its place or a fold -rumpled, cool, composed, and beautiful, leaving her maid to amuse -herself with a penny chair and a _feuilleton_, Princess Vocqsal walks up -to the agitated Hungarian, and placing her hand in his, says, in her -most bewitching accents, "Forgive me, my friend; I have risked so much -to come here; I could not get away a moment sooner. I have passed the -last hour in such agony of suspense!" The time to which the lady -alludes has been spent, and well spent, in preparing the brilliant and -effective appearance which she is now making. - -"But you have come at last," exclaims Victor, breathlessly. "I may now -speak to you for the first time alone. Oh, what happiness to see you -again! All this week I have been so wretched without you; and why were -you never at home when I called?" - -"_Les convenances_, my dear Count," answers the lady. "Everything I do -is watched and known. Only last night I was taxed by Madame d'Alençon -about you, and I could not help showing my confusion; and you--you are -so foolish. What must people think?" - -"Let them think what they will," breaks in Victor, his honest truthful -face pale with excitement. "I am yours, and yours alone. Ever since I -have known you, Princess, I have felt that you might do with me what you -will. Now I am your slave. I offer you----" - -What Victor was about to offer never came to light, for at that instant -the well-tutored "Jeannette" rose from her chair, and hurriedly -approaching her mistress, whispered to her a few agitated words. The -Princess dropped her veil, squeezed Victor's hand, and in another -instant disappeared amongst the trees, leaving the young Hungarian very -much in love, very much bewildered, and not a little disgusted. - -One or two more such scenes, one or two more weeks of alternate delight, -suspense, and disappointment, made poor Victor half beside himself. He -had got into the hands of an accomplished flirt, and for nine men out of -ten there would have been no more chance of escape than there is for the -moth who has once fluttered within the magic ring of a ground-glass -lamp. He may buzz and flap and fume as he will, but the more he -flutters the more he singes his wings, the greater his struggles the -less his likelihood of liberty. But Victor was at that age when a man -most appreciates his own value: a few years earlier we want confidence, -a few years later we lack energy, but in the hey-day of youth we do not -easily surrender at discretion; besides, we have so many to console us, -and we are so easily consoled. De Rohan began to feel hurt, then angry, -lastly resolute. One night at the opera decided him. His box had a -mirror in it so disposed as to reflect the interior of the adjoining -one; a most unfair and reprehensible practice, by-the-bye, and one -calculated to lead to an immensity of discord. What he saw he never -proclaimed, but as Princess Vocqsal occupied the box adjoining his own, -it is fair to suppose that he watched the movements of his mistress. - -She bit her lip, and drew her features together as if she had been -stung, when on the following afternoon, in the Bois de Boulogne, Vicomte -Lascar informed her, with his insipid smile, that he had that morning -met De Rohan at the railway station, evidently en route for Hungary, -adding, for the Princess was an excellent linguist, and Lascar prided -himself much on his English, "'Ome, sweet 'ome, no place like 'ome." - - - - - CHAPTER XVII - - THE COMMON LOT - - -"And so, you see, my dear Egerton, it is out of the question. I own to a -great liking for your character. I think you behaved yesterday like a -trump. I am too old for romance, and all that, but I can understand -your feeling, my boy, and I am sorry for you. The objection I have -named would alone be sufficient. Let it never be mentioned again. Your -father was my oldest friend, and I hope you will not think it necessary -to break with us; but marriage is a serious affair, and indeed is not to -be thought of." - -"No hope, Sir Harry?" I gasped out; "years hence, if I could win fame, -distinction, throw a cloak of honour over this accursed brand, give her -a name to be proud of, is there no hope?" - -"None," replied Sir Harry; "these things are better settled at once. It -is far wiser not to delude yourself into the notion that, because you -are a disappointed man now, you are destined to become a great one -hereafter. Greatness grows, Vere, just like a cabbage or a cauliflower, -and must be tended and cultivated with years of labour and perseverance; -you cannot pluck it down with one spring, like an apple from a bough. -No, no, my lad; you will get over this disappointment, and be all the -better for it. I am sorry to refuse you, but I must, Vere, distinctly, -and for the last time. Besides, I tell you in confidence, I have other -views for Constance, so you see it is totally out of the question. You -may see her this afternoon, if you like. She is a good child, and will -do nothing in disobedience to her father. Farewell, Vere, I am sorry -for you, but the thing's done." - -So I walked out of the Baronet's room in the unenviable character of a -disappointed suitor, and he went back to his farm book and his trainer's -accounts, as coolly as if he had just been dismissing a domestic; whilst -I--my misery was greater than I could bear--his last words seemed to -scorch me. "I should get over it--I should be the better for it." And -I felt all the time that my heart was breaking; and then, "he had other -views for Constance;" not only must she never be mine, but I must suffer -the additional pang of feeling that she belongs to another. "Would to -God," I thought, "that we had sunk together yesterday, never to rise -again!" - -I went to look for her in the shrubbery: I knew where I should find her; -there was an old summer-house that we two had sat in many a time before, -and I felt sure Constance would be there. She rose as I approached it: -she must have seen by my face that it was all over. She put her hand in -mine, and, totally unmanned, I bent my head over it, and burst into a -flood of tears, like a child. I remember to this day the very pattern of -the gown she wore; even now I seem to hear the soft, gentle accents in -which she reasoned and pleaded with me, and strove to mitigate my -despair. - -"I have long thought it must come to this, Vere," she said, with her -dark, melancholy eyes looking into my very soul; "I have long thought we -have both been much to blame, you to speak, and I to listen, as we have -done: now we have our punishment. Vere, I will not conceal from you I -suffer much. More for your sake than my own. I cannot bear to see you -so miserable. You to whom I owe so much, so many happy hours, and -yesterday my very life. Oh, Vere, try to bear it like a man." - -"I cannot, I cannot," I sobbed out; "no hope, nothing to look forward -to, but a cheerless, weary life, and then to be forgotten. Oh that I -had died with you, Constance, my beloved one, my own!" - -She laid her hand gently on my arm-- - -"Forgotten, Vere," she said; "that is not a kind or a generous speech. -I shall never forget you. Always, always I shall think of you, pray for -you. Papa knows best what is right. I will never disobey him: he has -not forbidden us to see each other; we may be very happy still. Vere, -you must be my brother." - -"No more," I exclaimed, reproachfully, "no more?" - -"No more, Vere," she answered, quite gently, but in a tone that admitted -of no further appeal. "Brother and sister, Vere, for the rest of our -lives; promise me this," and she put her soft hand in mine, and smiled -upon me; pure and sorrowful, like an angel. - -I was stung to madness by her seeming coldness, so different from my own -wild, passionate misery. - -"Be it so," I said; "and as brother and sister must part, so must you -and I. Anything now for freedom and repose; anything to drive your -image from my mind. I tell you that from henceforth I am a desperate -man. Nobody cares for me on earth,--no father, no mother, none for whom -to live; and the one I prized most discards me now. Constance, you -never can have loved me as I have loved. Cold, heartless, false! I -will never see you again." - -She was quite bewildered by my vehemence. She looked round wildly at -me, and her pale lip quivered, and her eyes filled with tears: even then -I remained bitter and unmoved. - -"Farewell," I said, "farewell, Constance, and for ever." - -Her hand hung passively in mine, her "good-bye" seemed frozen on her -lips; but she turned away with more than her usual majesty, and walked -towards the house. I remarked that she dropped a white rose--fit emblem -of her own dear self--on the gravel path, as she paced slowly along, -without once turning her head. I was too proud to follow her and pick -it up, but sprang away in an opposite direction, and was soon out of her -sight. - -That night, when the wild clouds were flying across the moon, and the -wind howled through the gloomy yews and the ghostly fir-trees, and all -was sad and dreary and desolate, I picked up the white rose from that -gravel path, and placed it next my heart. Faded, shrunk, and withered, -I have got it still. My home was now no place for me. I arranged my -few affairs with small difficulty, pensioned the two old servants my -poor father had committed to my charge; set my house in order, packed up -my things, and in less than a week I was many hundred miles from Alton -Grange and Constance Beverley. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII - - OMAR PASHA - - -It is high noon, and not a sound, save the occasional snort of an -impatient steed, is to be heard throughout the lines. Picketed in rows, -the gallant little chargers of the Turkish cavalry are dozing away the -hours between morning and evening feed. The troopers themselves are -smoking and sleeping in their tents; here and there may be seen a devout -Mussulman prostrate on his prayer-carpet, his face turned towards Mecca, -and his thoughts wholly abstracted from all worldly considerations. -Ill-fed and worse paid, they are nevertheless a brawny, powerful race, -their broad rounded shoulders, bull necks, and bowed legs denoting -strength rather than activity; whilst their high features and marked -swarthy countenances betray at once their origin, sprung from -generations of warriors who once threatened to overwhelm the whole -Western world in a tide that has now been long since at the ebb. Patient -are they of hardship, and devoted to the Sultan and their duty, made for -soldiers and nothing else, with their fierce, dogged resolution, and -their childish obedience and simplicity. Hand-in-hand, two of them are -strolling leisurely through the lines to release a restive little horse -who has got inexplicably entangled in his own and his neighbour's -picket-ropes, and is fighting his way out of his difficulty with teeth -and hoofs. They do not hurry themselves, but converse peacefully as -they pass along. - -"Is is true, Mustapha, that _Giaours_ are still coming to join our Bey? -The Padisha[#] is indeed gracious to these sons of perdition." - - -[#] The Sultan. - - - -"It is true, Janum;[#] may Allah confound them!" replies Mustapha, -spitting in parenthesis between his teeth: "but they have brave hearts, -these Giaours, and cunning heads, moreover, for their own devices. What -good Moslem would have thought of sending his commands by wire, faster -than they could be borne by the horses of the Prophet?" - - -[#] "Oh my soul!" a colloquial term equivalent to the French "Mon cher." - - -"Magic!" argues the other trooper; "black, unholy magic! There is but -one Allah!" - -"What filth are you eating?" answers Mustapha, who is of a practical -turn of mind. "Have not I myself seen the wire and the post, and do I -not know that the Padisha sends his commands to the Ferik-Pasha by the -letters he writes with his own hand?" - -"But you have never seen the letter," urges his comrade, "though you -have ridden a hundred times under the lines." - -"Oh, mulehead, and son of a jackass!" retorts Mustapha, "do you not know -that the letter flies so fast along the wire, that the eye of man cannot -perceive it? They are dogs and accursed, these Giaours; but, by my -head, they are very foxes in wit." - -"I will defile their graves," observes his comrade; and forthwith they -proceeded to release the entangled charger, who has by this time nearly -eaten his ill-starred neighbour; and I overhear this philosophical -disquisition, as I proceed for orders to the Green Tent of Iskender Bey, -commandant of the small force of cavalry attached to Omar Pasha's army -in Bulgaria. - -As I enter the tent, I perceive two men seated in grave discussion, -whilst a third stands upright in a respectful attitude. A _chaoosh_, or -Serjeant, is walking a magnificently caparisoned bay Arab up and down, -just beyond the tent-pegs; while an escort of lancers, with two or three -more led horses, and a brace of English pointers, are standing a few -paces off. The upright figure, though dressed in a Turkish uniform, -with a red fez or skull-cap, I have no difficulty in recognising as -Victor de Rohan. He grasps my hand as I pass, and whispers a few words -in French, while I salute Iskender Bey, and await his orders. - -My chief is more than three parts drunk. He has already finished the -best portion of a bottle of brandy, and is all for fighting, right or -wrong, as, to do him justice, is his invariable inclination. To and fro -he waves his half-grizzled head, and sawing the air with his right hand, -mutilated of half its fingers by a blow from a Russian sabre, he repeats -in German-- - -"But the attack! Excellency; the attack! when will you let me loose -with my cavalry? The attack! Excellency! the attack!" - -The person he addresses looks at him with a half-amused, half-provoked -air, and then glancing at Victor, breaks into a covert smile, which he -conceals by bending over a map that is stretched before him. I have -ample time to study his appearance, and to wonder why I should have a -sort of vague impression that I have seen that countenance before. - -He is a spare, sinewy man, above the middle height, with his figure -developed and toughened by constant exercise. An excellent horseman, a -practised shot, an adept at all field-sports, he looks as if no labour -would tire him, no hardships affect his vigour or his health. His small -head is set on his shoulders in the peculiar manner that always denotes -physical strength; and his well-cut features would be handsome, were it -not for a severe and somewhat caustic expression which mars the beauty -of his countenance. His deep-set eye is very bright and keen; its -glance seems accustomed to command, and also to detect falsehood under a -threefold mask. He has not dealt half a lifetime with Asiatics to fail -in acquiring that useful knack. He wears his beard and moustache short -and close; they are - - Grizzled here and there, - But more with toil than age, - -and add to his soldierlike exterior. His dress is simple enough; it -consists of a close-fitting, dark-green frock, adorned only with the -order of the Medjidjie, high riding-boots, and a crimson fez. A curved -Turkish sabre hangs from his belt, and a double-barrelled gun of English -workmanship is thrown across his knees. As he looks up from his map, -his eye rests on me, and he asks Victor in German, "Who is that?" - -"An Englishman, who has joined your Excellency's force as an -Interpreter," answered my friend, "and who is now attached to Iskender -Bey. I believe the Bey can give a good account of his gallantry on more -than one occasion." - -"The Bey," thus appealed to, musters up a drunken smile, and observes, -"A good swordsman, your Excellency, and a man of many languages. Sober -too," he adds, shaking his head, "sober as a Mussulman, the first -quality in a soldier." - -His Excellency smiles again at Victor, who presents me in due form, not -forgetting to mention my name. - -The great man almost starts. He fixes on me that glittering eye which -seems to look through me. "Where did you acquire your knowledge of -languages?" he asks. "My aide-de-camp informs me you speak Hungarian -even better than you do Turkish." - -"I travelled much in Hungary as a boy, Excellency," was my reply. -"Victor de Rohan is my earliest friend: I was a child scarcely out of -the nursery when I first made his acquaintance at Edeldorf." - -A gleam of satisfaction passed over his Excellency's face. "Strange, -strange," he muttered, "how the wheel turns;" and then pulling out a -small steel purse, but slenderly garnished, he selected from a few other -coins an old silver piece, worn quite smooth and bent double. "Do you -remember that?" said he, placing it in my hand. - -The gipsy troop and the deserter flashed across me at once. I was so -confused at my own stupidity in not having recognised him sooner, that I -could only stammer out, "Pardon, your Excellency--so long ago--a mere -child." - -He grasped my hand warmly. "Egerton," said he, "boy as you were, there -was heart and honour in your deed. Subordinate as I then was, I swore -never to forget it. I have never forgotten it. You have made a friend -for life in Omar Pasha." - -I could only bow my thanks, and the General added, "Come to me at -head-quarters this afternoon. I will see what can be done for you." - -"But, Excellency, I cannot spare him," interposed Iskender Bey. "I have -here an English officer, the bravest of the brave, but so stupid I -cannot understand a word he says. I had rather be without sword or -lance than lose my Interpreter. And then, Excellency, the attack -to-morrow--the attack." - -Omar Pasha rose to depart. "I will send him back this evening with -despatches," said he, saluting his host in the Turkish fashion, touching -first the heart, then the mouth, then the forehead--a courtesy which the -old fire-eater returned with a ludicrous attempt at solemnity. - -"De Rohan," he added, "stay here to carry out the orders I have given -you. As soon as your friend can be spared from the Bey, bring him over -with you, to remain at head-quarters. Salaam!" And the General was on -his horse and away long before the Turkish guard could get under arms to -pay him the proper compliments, leaving Iskender Bey to return to his -brandy-bottle, and my old friend Victor to make himself comfortable in -my tent, and smoke a quiet chibouque with me whilst we related all that -had passed since we met. - -Victor was frank and merry as usual, spoke unreservedly of his _liaison_ -with Princess Vocqsal, and the reasons which had decided him on seeing a -campaign with the Turkish army against his natural enemies, the -Russians. - -"I like it, _mon cher_," said he, puffing at his chibouque, and talking -in the mixture of French and English which seemed his natural language, -and in which he always affirmed _he thought_. "There is liberty, there -is excitement, there is the chance of distinction; and above all, there -are _no women_. It suits my temperament, _mon cher: voyez-vous, je suis -philosophe_. I like to change my bivouac day by day, to attach myself -to my horses, to have no tie but that which binds me to my sabre, no -anxieties but for what I shall get to eat. The General does all the -thinking--_parbleu!_ he does it _à merveille_; and I--why, I laugh and I -ride away. Fill my chibouque again, and hand me that flask; I think -there is a drop left in it. Your health, Vere, _mon enfant_, and _vive -la guerre_!" - -"_Vive la guerre!_" I repeated; but the words stuck in my throat, for I -had already seen something of the miseries brought by war into a -peaceful country, and I could not look upon the struggle in which we -were engaged with quite as much indifference as my volatile friend. - -"And you, Vere," he resumed, after draining the flask, "I heard you were -with us weeks ago; but I have been absent from my chief on a -reconnaissance, so I never could get an opportunity of beating up your -quarters. What on earth brought you out here, my quiet, studious -friend?" - -I could not have told him the truth to save my life. Any one but _him_, -for I always fancied she looked on him with favouring eyes, so I gave -two or three false reasons instead of the real one. - -"Oh," I replied, "everything was so changed after my poor father's -death, and Alton was so dull, and I had no profession, no object in -life, so I thought I might see a little soldiering. When they found I -could speak Turkish, or rather when I told them so, they gave me every -facility at the War Office; so I got a pair of jack-boots and a -revolver, and here I am." - -"But Omar will make you something better than an Interpreter," urged -Victor. "We must get you over to head-quarters, Vere. Men rise rapidly -in these days; next campaign you might have a brigade, and the following -one a division. This war will last for years; you are fit for something -better than a Tergyman."[#] - - -[#] An Interpreter. - - -"I think so too," I replied; "though, truth to tell, when I came out -here I was quite satisfied with my present position, and only thirsted -for the excitement of action. But this soldiering grows upon one, -Victor, does it not? Yet I am loth to leave Iskender too; the old Lion -stretched me his paw when I had no friends in Turkey, and I believe I am -useful to him. At least I must stay with him now, for we shall be -engaged before long, I can tell you that." - -"_Tant mieux_," retorted Victor, with flashing eyes; "old Brandy-face -will ram his cavalry into it if he gets a chance. Don't let him ride -too far forward himself, Vere, if you can help it, as he did when he cut -his own way through that troop of hussars, and gave them another example -of the stuff the Poles are made of. The Muscov nearly had him that -time, though. It was then he lost the use of half his fingers, and got -that crack over the head which has been an excuse for drunkenness ever -since." - -"Drunk or sober," I replied, "he is the best cavalry officer we have; -but make yourself comfortable, Victor, as well as you can. I recommend -you to sleep on my divan for an hour or two; something tells me we shall -advance to-night. To-morrow, old friend, you and I may sleep on a -harder bed." - -"_Vive la guerre!_" replied Victor, gaily as before; but ere I had -buckled on my sabre to leave the tent, the chibouque had fallen from his -lips, and he was fast asleep. - -My grey Arab, "Injour,"[#] was saddled and fastened to a lance; my -faithful Bold, who had accompanied me through all my wanderings, and who -had taken an extraordinary liking for his equine companion, was ready to -be my escort; a revolver was in my holster-pipe, a hunch of black bread -in my wallet, and with my sabre by my side, and a pretty accurate idea -of my route, I experienced a feeling of light-heartedness and -independence to which I had long been a stranger. Poor Bold enjoyed his -master's society all the more that, in deference to Moslem prejudices, I -had now banished him from my tent, and consigned him to the company of -my horses. He gambolled about me, whilst my snorting horse, shaking his -delicate head, struck playfully at him with his fore-feet, as the dog -bounded in front of him. Bad horseman as I always was, yet in a deep -demi-pique Turkish saddle, with broad shovel stirrups and a severe -Turkish bit, I felt thoroughly master of the animal I bestrode, and I -keenly enjoyed the sensation. "Injour" was indeed a pearl of his race. -Beautiful as a star, wiry and graceful as a deer, he looked all over the -priceless child of the desert, whose blood had come down to him from the -very horses of the Prophet, unstained through a hundred generations. -Mettle, courage, and endurance were apparent in the smooth satin skin, -the flat sinewy legs, the full muscular neck, broad forehead, shapely -muzzle, wide red nostril, quivering ears, and game wild eye. He could -gallop on mile after mile, hour after hour, with a stride unvarying and -apparently untiring as clockwork; nor though he had a heavy man on his -back did his pulses seem to beat higher, or his breath come quicker, -when he arrived at the head-quarters of the Turkish army than when he -had left my own tent an hour and a half earlier, the intervening time, -much to poor Bold's distress, having been spent at a gallop. There was -evidently a stir in Omar Pasha's quarters. Turkish officers were going -and coming with an eagerness and alacrity by no means natural to those -functionaries. An English horse, looking very thin and uncomfortable, -was being led away from the tent, smoking from the speed at which he had -been ridden. The sentry alone was totally unmoved and apathetic; a -devout Mussulman, to him destiny was destiny, and there an end. Had the -enemy appeared forty thousand strong, sweeping over his very camp, he -would have fired his musket leisurely--in all probability it would not -have gone off the first time--and awaited his fate, calmly observing, -"Kismet![#] there is but one Allah!" - - -[#] The Pearl. - -[#] Destiny. - - -More energetic spirits are fortunately within those green canvas walls; -for there sits Omar Pasha, surrounded by the gallant little band of -foreigners, chiefly Englishmen, who never wavered or hesitated for an -instant, however desperate the task to be undertaken, and whom, it is -but justice to say, the Turks were always ready to follow to the death. -Very different is the expression on each countenance, for a council of -war is sitting, and to-day will decide the fate of many a grey-coated -Muscov and many a turbaned servant of the Prophet. A Russian prisoner -has moreover just been brought in, and my arrival is sufficiently -opportune to interpret, with the few words of Russian I have already -picked up, between the unfortunate man and his captors. If he prove to -be a spy, as is more than suspected, may Heaven have mercy on him, for -the Turk will not. - -Omar Pasha's brow is contracted and stern. He vouchsafes me no look or -sign of recognition as he bids me ask the prisoner certain pertinent -questions on which life and death depend. - -"What is the strength of the corps to which you belong?" - -The man answers doggedly, and with his eyes fixed on the ground, "Twenty -thousand bayonets." - -Omar Pasha compares his answer with the paper he holds in his hand. I -fancy he sets his teeth a little tighter, but otherwise he moves not a -muscle of his countenance. - -"At what distance from the Danube did you leave your General's -head-quarters?" - -The prisoner pretends not to understand. My limited knowledge of his -language obliges me to put the question in an involved form, and he -seems to take time to consider his answer. There is nothing about the -man to distinguish him from the common Russian soldier--a mere military -serf. He is dressed in the long, shabby, grey coat, the greasy boots, -and has a low overhanging brow, a thoroughly Calmuck cast of features, -and an intensely stupid expression of countenance; but I remark that his -hands, which are nervously pressed together, are white and slender, and -his feet are much too small for their huge shapeless coverings. - -His eye glitters as he steals a look at the General, whilst he answers, -"Not more than an hour and a half." - -Again Omar consults his paper, and a gleam passes over his face like -that of a chess-player who has checkmated his adversary. - -"One more question," he observes, courteously, "and I will trouble you -no longer. What force of artillery is attached to your General's _corps -d'armée_?" - -"Eight batteries of field-cannon and four troops of horse artillery," -replies the prisoner, this time without a moment's hesitation; but the -sweat breaks out on his forehead, for he is watching Omar Pasha's -countenance, and he reads "death" on that impassible surface. - -"It is sufficient, gentlemen," observes the General to the officers who -surround him. "Let him be taken to the rear of the encampment and shot -forthwith." - -The prisoner's lip quivers nervously, but he shows extraordinary pluck, -and holds himself upright as if on parade. - -"Poor devil!" says a hearty voice in English; and turning round, I see a -good-looking, broad-shouldered Englishman, in the uniform of a -brigadier, who is watching the prisoner with an air of pity and -curiosity approaching the ludicrous. "Excellence," says he, in somewhat -broken German, "will you not send him to me? I will undertake that he -spreads no false reports about the camp. I will answer for his safety -in my hands; he must not be permitted to communicate with any one, even -by signs; but it is a pity to shoot him, is it not?" - -"I would do much to oblige you, Brigadier," replied Omar, with frank -courtesy; "but you know the custom of war. I cannot in this instance -depart from it--no, not even to oblige a friend;" he smiled as he spoke, -and added in Turkish to an officer who stood beside him, "March him out, -and see it done immediately. And now, gentlemen," he proceeded, "we -will arrange the plan of attack. Mr. Egerton, your despatches are -ready; let them reach Iskender Bey without delay. There will be work -for us all to-morrow." - -At these words a buzz of satisfaction filled the tent; not an officer -there but was determined to win his way to distinction _coûte qui -coûte_. I felt I had received my dismissal, and bowed myself out. As I -left the tent, I encountered the unfortunate Russian prisoner marching -doggedly under escort to the place of his doom. When he caught sight of -me he made a mechanical motion with his fettered hand, as though to -raise it to his cap, and addressed me in French, of which language he -had hitherto affected the most profound ignorance. - -"Comrade," said he, "order these men to give me five minutes. We are -both soldiers; you shall do me a favour." - -I spoke to the "mulazim"[#] who commanded the guard. He pointed out an -open space on which we were entering, and observed, "The Moscov has -reached his resting-place at last. Five minutes are soon gone. What am -I that I should disobey the Tergyman? Be it on my head, Effendi." - - -[#] Lieutenant. - - -The Russian became perfectly composed. At my desire his arms were -liberated, and the first use he made of his freedom was to shake me -cordially by the hand. - -"Comrade," said he, in excellent French, and with the refined tone of an -educated man, "we are enemies, but we are soldiers. We are civilised -men among barbarians; above all, we are Christians among infidels. -Swear to me by the faith we both worship that you will fulfil my last -request." - -His coolness at this trying moment brought the tears into my eyes. I -promised to comply with his demand so far as my honour as a soldier -would permit me. - -He had stood unmoved surrounded by enemies, he had heard his -death-warrant without shrinking for an instant; but my sympathy unmanned -him, and it was with a broken voice and moistened eyes that he -proceeded. - -"I am not what I seem. I hold a commission in the Russian army. -Disguised as a private soldier I crossed the river of my own free will. -I have sacrificed myself willingly for my country and my Czar. He will -know it, and my brother will be promoted. The favour I ask you is no -trifling one." He took a small amulet from his neck as he spoke; it was -the image of his patron saint, curiously wrought in gold. "Forward this -to my mother, she is the one I love best on earth. _Mother_," he -repeated, in a low, heartbreaking voice, "could you but see me now!" - -I had fortunately a memorandum-book in my pocket. I tore out a leaf and -handed him a pencil. He thanked me with such a look of gratitude as I -never saw before on mortal face, wrote a few lines, wrapped the amulet -in the paper, and inscribed on it the direction with a hand far steadier -than my own. As he gave it me, the mulazim coolly observed, "Effendi! -the time has expired," and ordered his men to "fall in." The Russian -squeezed my hand, and drew himself up proudly to his full height, whilst -his eye kindled, and the colour came once more into his cheek. As I -mounted my horse, he saluted me with the grave courteous air with which -a man salutes an antagonist in a duel. - -I could not bear to see him die. I went off at a gallop, but I had not -gone two hundred paces before I heard the rattle of some half-dozen -muskets. I pulled up short and turned round. Some inexplicable -fascination forced me to look. The white smoke was floating away. I -heard the ring of the men's ramrods as they reloaded; and where the -Russian had stood erect and chivalrous while he bid me his last -farewell, there was nothing now but a wisp of grey cloth upon the -ground. - -Sick at heart, I rode on at a walk, with the bridle on my horse's neck. -But a soldier's feelings must not interfere with duty. My despatches -had to be delivered immediately, and soon I was once more speeding away -as fast as I had come. An hour's gallop braced my nerves, and warmed -the blood about my heart. As I gave Injour a moment's breathing time, I -summoned fortitude to read the Russian's letter. My scholarship was -more than sufficient to master its brief contents. It was addressed to -the Countess D----, and consisted but of these few words: "Console -thyself, my mother; I die in the true faith." - -He was a gallant man and a good. - -"If this is the stuff our enemies are made of," thought I, as I urged -Injour once more to his speed, "there is, indeed--as Omar Pasha told us -to-day--there is, indeed, 'work cut out for us all.'" - - - - - CHAPTER XIX - - "'SKENDER BEY" - - -The old Lion is sober enough now. What a headache he ought to have -after all that brandy yesterday: but the prospect of fighting always -puts Iskender Bey to rights, and to-day he will have a bellyful, or we -are much mistaken. At the head, in the rear, on the flanks of his small -force, the fiery Pole seems to have eyes and ears for every trooper -under his command. The morning is dark and cloudy; a small drizzling -rain is falling, and effectually assists our manoeuvres. We have -crossed the Danube in a few flat boats before daybreak, fortunately with -no further casualty than the drowning of one horse, whose burial-service -has been celebrated in the strongest oaths of the Turkish language. We -have landed without opposition; and should we not be surprised by any -outpost of the enemy, we are in a highly favourable position for taking -our share in the combined attack. - -Victor de Rohan has been attached for the occasion to our commander's -staff. He is accompanied by a swarthy, powerful man, mounted on a -game-looking bay mare, the only charger of that sex present on the -field. This worthy goes by the name of Ali Mesrour, and is by birth a -Beloochee: fighting has been his trade for more than twenty years, and -he has literally fought his way all over the East, till he found himself -a sort of henchman to Omar Pasha on the banks of the Danube. He has -accompanied De Rohan here from head-quarters, and sits on his mare by -the Hungarian's side, grim and unmoved as becomes a veteran warrior. -There is charlatanism in all trades. It is the affectation of the young -soldier to be excited, keen, volatile, and jocose, while the older hand -thinks it right to assume an air of knowing calmness, just dashed with a -touch of sardonic humour. We are situated in a hollow, where we are -completely hidden from the surrounding district: the river guards our -rear and one of our flanks; a strong picket is under arms in our front; -and beyond it a few videttes, themselves unseen, are peeping over the -eminence before them. Our main body are dismounted, but the men are -prepared to "stand to their horses" at a moment's notice, and all noise -is strictly forbidden in the ranks. If we are surprised by a -sufficiently strong force we shall be cut to pieces, for we have no -retreat; if we can remain undiscovered for another hour or so, the game -will be in our own hands. - -Iskender Bey is in Paradise. This is what he lives for; and to-day, he -thinks, will see him a pasha or a corpse. - -"Tergyman," he whispers to me, whilst his sides shake, and his eyes -kindle with mirth, "how little they think who is their neighbour. And -the landing, Tergyman! the landing; the only place for miles where we -could have accomplished it, and they had not even a sentry there. Oh, it -is the best joke!" And Iskender dismounts from his horse to enjoy his -laugh in comfort, while his swollen veins and bloodshot eyes betoken the -severity of the internal convulsion, all the more powerful that he must -not have it out in louder tones. - -"Another hour of this, at least," observes Victor, as he lights a large -cigar, and hands another to the commandant, and a third to myself, "one -more hour, Egerton, and then comes our chance. You have got a picked -body of men to-day, Effendi!" he observes to the Bey; "and not the worst -of the horses." - -"They are my own children to-day, Count," answers Iskender, with -sparkling eyes. "There are not too many of the brood left; but the -chickens are game to the backbone. What say you, Ali? These fellows -are better stuff than your Arabs that you make such a talk about." - -The Beloochee smiles grimly, and pats his mare on the neck. - -"When the sun is low," he answers, "I shall say what I think; meanwhile -work, and not talk, is before us. The Arab is no bad warrior, Effendi, -on the fourth day, when the barley is exhausted, and there is no water -in the skins." - -Iskender laughs, and points to the Danube. "There is water enough -there," he says, "for the whole cavalry of the Padisha, Egyptian guards, -and all. Pah! don't talk of water, I hate the very name of it. Brandy -is the liquor for a soldier--brandy and blood. Count de Rohan, your -Hungarians don't fight upon water, I'll answer for it." - -"You know our proverb, Effendi," replies Victor, "'The hussar's horse -drinks wine.' But the rain is coming on heavier," he adds, looking up -at the clouds; "we shall have water enough to satisfy even a true -Mussulman like Ali, presently. How slow the time passes. May I not go -forward and reconnoitre?" - -The permission is willingly granted; and as my office is to-day a -sinecure, I creep forward with Victor beyond our advanced posts to a -small knoll, from which, without being seen, we can obtain a commanding -view of the surrounding country. - -There is a flat extent in front of us, admirably adapted for the -operations of cavalry; and a slight eminence covered with brushwood, -which will conceal our movements for nearly half-a-mile farther. - -"The fools!" whispers Victor; "if they had lined that copse with -riflemen, they might have bothered us sadly as we advanced." - -"How do you know they have not?" I whisper in reply; "not a man could we -see from here; and their grey coats are exactly the colour of the soil -of this unhappy country." - -Victor points to a flock of bustards feeding in security on the plain. -"Not one of those birds would remain a second," says he, "if there were -a single man in the copse. Do you not see that they have got the wind of -all that brushwood? and the bustard, either by scent or hearing, can -detect the presence of a human being as unerringly as a deer. But see; -the mist is clearing from the Danube. It cannot but begin soon." - -Sure enough the mist was rolling heavily away from the broad, yellow -surface of the river; already we could descry the towers and walls of -Roustchouk, looming large, like some enchanted keep, above the waters. -The rain, too, was clearing off, and a bit of blue sky was visible above -our heads. In a few minutes the sun shone forth cheeringly, and a lark -rose into the sky from our very feet, with his gladsome, heavenward -song, as the boom of a cannon smote heavily on our ears; and we knew -that, for to-day, the work of death had at last begun. - -The mist rose like a curtain: and the whole attack was now visible from -our post. A few flats were putting off from the Bulgarian side of the -river, crowded with infantry, whose muskets and accoutrements glittered -in the fitful sunlight, loaded to the water's edge. It was frightful to -think of the effect a round-shot might have on one of those crazy -shallops, with its living freight. The Russian batteries, well and -promptly served, were playing furiously on the river; but their range -was too high, and the iron shower whizzed harmlessly over the heads of -the attacking Moslem. A Turkish steamer, coolly and skilfully handled, -was plying to and fro in support of her comrades, and throwing her -shells beautifully into the Russian redoubts, where those unwelcome -visitors created much annoyance and confusion. Victor's eyes lightened -as he puffed at his cigar with an assumed _sang-froid_ which it was easy -to see he did not feel. - -"The old Lion won't stay here long," he whispered to me; "look back at -him now, Vere. I told you so: there they go--'boots and saddles.' We, -too, shall be at it in ten minutes. _Vive la guerre!_" - -As he spoke, the trumpet rang out the order to "mount." Concealment was -no longer necessary, and we rushed back to our horses, and placed -ourselves on either side of our commander, ready to execute whatever -orders he might choose to give. - -Iskender Bey was now cool as if on parade; nay, considerably cooler: for -the rehearsal was more apt to excite his feelings than the play itself. -He moved us forward at a trot. Once more he halted amongst the -brushwood, from which the scared bustards were by this time flying in -all directions; and whilst every charger's frame quivered with -excitement, and even the proud Turkish hearts throbbed quicker under the -Sultan's uniform, he alone appeared wholly unmoved by the stake he had -to play in the great game. It was but the calm before the hurricane. - -From our new position we could see the boats of our comrades rapidly -nearing the shore. Iskender, his bridle hanging over his mutilated arm, -and his glass pressed to his eye, watched them with eager gaze. It was -indeed a glorious sight. With a thrilling cheer, the Turkish infantry -sprang ashore, and fixing bayonets as they rushed on, stormed the -Russian redoubts at a run, undismayed and totally unchecked by the -well-sustained fire of musketry, and the grape and canister liberally -showered on them by the enemy. An English officer in the uniform of a -brigadier, whom through my glass I recognised as the good-humoured -intercessor for the prisoner in Omar Pasha's tent, led them on, waving -his sword, several paces in front of his men, and encouraging them with -a gallantry and daring that I was proud to feel were truly British. - -But the Russian redoubts were well manned, and a strong body of infantry -were drawn up in support a few hundred paces in their rear; the guns, -too, had been depressed, and the cannonade was terrible. Down went the -red fez and the shaven head; Turkish sabre and French musket lay -masterless on the sand, and many a haughty child of Osman gasped out his -welling life-blood to slake the dry Wallachian soil. Wave your green -scarfs, dark-eyed maids of Paradise! for your lovers are thronging to -your gates. But the crimson flag is waving in the van, and the Russian -eagle even now spreads her wings to fly away. A strong effort is made -by the massive grey column which constitutes the enemy's reserve, but -the English brigadier has placed himself at the head of a freshly-landed -regiment--Albanians are they, wild and lawless robbers of the hills--and -he sweeps everything before him. The redoubts are carried with a cheer, -the gunners bayoneted, the heavy field-pieces turned on their former -masters, and the Russian column shakes, wavers, and gives way. The -glass trembles in Iskender's hand; his eye glares, and the veins of his -forehead begin to swell: for him too _the_ moment has come. - -"Count de Rohan," says he, while he shuts up his glass like a man who -now sees his way clearly before him, "bring up the rear-guard. -Tergyman! I have got them _here_ in my hand!" and he clasps the -mutilated fingers as he speaks. "Now I can crush them. The column will -advance at a trot--'March!'" - -Rapidly we clear the space that intervenes between our former position -and the retreating columns of the enemy--now to sweep down with our -handful of cavalry on their flank, and complete the victory that has -been so gallantly begun! For the first time the enemy appears aware of -our proximity. A large body of cavalry moves up at a gallop to -intercept us. We can see their commander waving his sword and giving -his orders to his men; their number is far greater than our own, and -Iskender is now indeed in his glory. - -"Form line!" he shouts in a voice of thunder, as he draws his glittering -sabre and shakes it above his head. "Advance at a gallop!--charge!!" - -Victor de Rohan is on one side of him, the Beloochee and myself on the -other; the wildest blood and the best horses in Turkey at our backs: and -down we go like the whirlwind, with the shout of "_Allah! Allah!_" -surging in our ears, lances couched and pennons fluttering, the maddened -chargers thundering at their speed, and the life-blood mounting to the -brain in the fierce ecstasy of that delirious moment. - -I am a man of peace, God knows! What have I to do with the folly of -ambition--the tinsel and the glare and the false enthusiasm of war? And -yet, with steel in his hand and a good horse between his knees, a man -may well be excused for deeming such a moment as this worth many a year -of peaceful life and homely duties. Alas! alas! is it all vanity? is -_cui bono_ the sum and the end of everything? Who knows? And yet it -was glorious while it lasted! - -Long ere we reach them, the Russian cavalry wavers and hesitates. Their -commander gallops nobly to the front. I can see him now, with his high -chivalrous features, and long, fair moustache waving in the breeze. He -gesticulates wildly to his men, and a squadron or two seem inclined to -follow the example of their gallant leader. In vain: we are upon them -even now in their confusion, and we roll them over, man and horse, with -the very impetus of our charge. Lance-thrust and sabre-cut, stab, blow -and ringing pistol-shot, make short work of the enemy. "_Allah! -Allah!_" shout our maddened troopers, and they give and take no quarter. -The fair-haired Colonel still fights gallantly on. Hopeless as it is he -strives to rally his men--a gentleman and a soldier to the last. My -comrade, the Beloochee, has his eye on him. They meet in the _mêlée_. -The Colonel deals a furious blow at his enemy with his long sabre, but -the supple Asiatic crouches on his mare's neck, and wheels the -well-trained animal at the same instant with his heel. His curved blade -glitters for a moment in the sun. It seems to pass without resistance -through the air; then the fair moustache is dabbled all in blood, and -the Colonel's horse gallops masterless from the field. - -Victor de Rohan fights like a very Paladin, and even I feel the accursed -spirit rising in my heart. The Russian cavalry are scattered like chaff -before the wind. Their disorganised masses ride in upon their own -infantry, who are vainly endeavouring to form with some regularity. The -retreat becomes a general rout, and our Turkish troopers fly like -hell-hounds to the pursuit. - -How might a reserve have turned the tables then! What a bitter lesson -might have been taught us by a few squadrons of veteran cavalry, kept in -hand by a cool and resolute officer. In vain Iskender rides and curses -and gesticulates; he is himself more than half inclined to follow the -example of his men. In vain the Beloochee entreats and argues, and even -strikes the refractory with the flat of his sabre; our men have tasted -blood, and are no longer under control. One regiment of Russian -infantry, supported by a few hussars and a field-piece, are still -endeavouring to cover the retreat. - -"De Rohan," exclaims Iskender, while the foam gathers on his lip and his -features work with excitement, "I must have that gun! Forward, and -follow me!" - -We placed ourselves at the head of two squadrons of the flower of our -cavalry; veterans are they, well seasoned in all the artifices of war, -and "_own children_"--so he delights to call them--to their chief. The -Beloochee has also succeeded in rallying a few stragglers; and once more -we rush to the attack. - -The Russian regiment, however, is well commanded, and does its duty -admirably. The light field-piece opens on us as we advance, and a -well-directed volley, delivered when we are within a few paces, checks -us at the instant we are upon them. I can hear the Russian officer -encouraging his men. - -"Well done, my children," says he, with the utmost _sang-froid_--"once -more like that will be enough." - -Several of our saddles are emptied, and Iskender begins to curse. - -"Dogs!" he shouts, grinding his teeth, and spurring furiously -forward--"dogs! I will be amongst you yet. Follow me, soldiers! follow -me!" - -Meantime, the Russian hussars have been reinforced, and are now capable -of showing a front. They threaten our flank, and we are forced to turn -our attention to this new foe. The infantry hold their ground manfully, -and Iskender, wheeling his men, rushes furiously upon the comparatively -fresh regiment of hussars with his tired horses. The Beloochee and -myself are still abreast. Despite of a galling fire poured in by the -infantry upon our flank, the men advance readily to the attack. We are -within six horses' lengths of the hussars. I am setting my teeth and -nerving my muscles for the encounter, which must be fought out hand to -hand, when--crash!--Injour bounds into the air, falls upon his head, -recovers himself, goes down once more, rolls over me, and lies -prostrate, shot through the heart. I disentangle myself from the -saddle, and rise, looking wildly about me. One leg refuses to support my -weight, but I do not know that my ankle-bone is broken by a musket-ball, -and that I cannot walk three yards to save my life. A loose charger -gallops over me and knocks me down once more. I cannot rise again. The -short look I have just had has shown me our cavalry retiring, probably -to obtain reinforcements. The Russian hussars are between me and them, -whilst the desultory firing on my right tells me that the pursuit is -still rolling away far into Wallachia. But all this is dim and -indistinct. Again the old feeling comes on that it is not Vere Egerton, -but some one else, who is lying there to die. A cold sweat covers my -face; a deadly sickness oppresses me; the ground rises and heaves around -me, and I grasp the tufts of trodden grass in my hands. The sound of -church bells is in my ears. Surely it is the old bell at Alton; but it -strikes painfully on my brain. A vision, too, fleets before me, of -Constance, with her soft, dark eyes--the white dress makes me giddy--a -flash as of fire seems to blind me, and I know and feel no more. - - - * * * * * - - -I was brought to my senses by the simple process of a Cossack dropping -his lance into the fleshy part of my arm--no pleasant restorative, but -in my case a most effectual one. The first sight that greeted my eyes -was his little horse's girths and belly, and his own rough, savage -countenance, looking grimly down upon me as he raised his arm to repeat -the thrust. I muttered the few words of Russian I knew, to beg for -mercy, and he looked at his comrades, as though to consult them on the -propriety of acceding to so unheard-of a request as that of a wounded -man for his life. A few paces off I saw the Beloochee, evidently taken -prisoner, disarmed, and his head running with blood, but his whole -bearing as dignified and unmoved as usual. - -In this awkward predicament I happily bethought me of the Russian -prisoner's epistle. - -"Quarter, comrade! quarter!" I shouted as loudly as my failing voice -would suffer me. "I have a letter from your officer. Here it is." - -"Osmanli?" inquired the Cossack, once more raising his arm to strike. I -shuddered to think how quickly that steel lance-head might be buried in -my body. - -"No, Inglis!" I replied, and the man lowered his weapon once more and -assisted me to rise. - -Fortunately at this juncture an officer rode up, and to him I appealed -for mercy and proper treatment as a prisoner of war. I misdoubted -considerably the humanity of my first acquaintance, whose eyes I could -see wandering over my person, as though he were selecting such -accoutrements and articles of clothing as he thought would suit his own -taste. The officer, who seemed of high rank, and was accompanied by an -escort, fortunately spoke German, and I appealed eloquently to him in -that language. He started at the superscription of the deserter's -letter, and demanded of me sternly how I obtained it. In a few words I -told him the history of the unfortunate spy, and he passed his gloved -hand over his face as though to conceal his emotion. - -"You are English?" he observed rapidly, and looking uneasily over his -shoulder at the same time. "We do not kill our English prisoners, -barbarians as you choose to think us; but to the Turk we give no -quarter. Put him on a horse," he added, to my original captor, who kept -unpleasantly near: "do not ill-treat him, but bring him safely along -with you. If he tries to escape, blow his brains out. As for that -rascal," pointing to the Beloochee, "put a lance through him forthwith." - -A happy thought struck me. I determined to make an effort for Ali. -"Excellence," I pleaded, "spare him, he is my servant." - -The Russian officer paused. "Is he not a Turk?" he asked, sternly. - -"No, I swear he is not," I replied. "He is my servant, and an -Englishman." - -If ever a lie was justifiable, it was on the present occasion: I trust -this _white_ one may not be laid to my charge. - -"Bring them both on," said the Russian, still glancing anxiously to his -rear. "Lieutenant Dolwitz, look to the party. Keep your men together, -and move rapidly. This is the devil's own business, and our people are -in full retreat." All this, though spoken in Russian, I was able to -understand; nor did the hurried manner in which the great man galloped -off shake my impression that he still dreaded a vision of Iskender Bey -and his band of heroes thundering on his track. - -I was placed on a little active Cossack pony. The Beloochee's wrist was -tied to mine, and he was forced to walk or rather run by my side; -whenever he flagged a poke from the butt-end of a lance admonished him -to mend his pace, and a Russian curse fell harmlessly on his ear. Still -he preserved his dignity through it all; and so we journeyed onwards -into Wallachia, and meditated on the chances of war and the changes that -a day may bring forth. - - - - - CHAPTER XX - - THE BELOOCHEE - - -The pursuit was fast and furious. After crossing such a river as the -Danube, in the teeth of a far superior force and under a heavy -fire--after carrying the Russian redoubts with the bayonet, and driving -their main body back upon its reserve, the Turkish troops, flushed and -wild with victory, were not to be stopped by any soldiers on earth. - -Iskender's charge had completely scattered the devoted body that had so -gallantly interposed to cover the retreat of their comrades, and a total -rout of the Russian forces was the result. The plains of Wallachia were -literally strewed with dismounted guns, broken ambulance wagons, -tumbrils, ammunition carts, dead and dying, whilst still the fierce -Moslem urged his hot pursuit. Straggler after straggler, reeking with -haste and all agape with fear, reached the astonished town of Bucharest, -and the reports in that pleasure-seeking capital were, as may well be -imagined, of the most bewildering and contradictory description. - -Many a frightful scene was witnessed by the terrified Wallachian -peasant, as fugitive after fugitive was overtaken, struck down and -butchered by the dread pursuers. Nay, women and children were not -spared in the general slaughter; and the hideous practice of refusing -"quarter," which has so long existed between the Turkish and Russian -armies, now bore ghastly fruit. - -A horse falls exhausted in a cart which contains some Russian wounded, -and a woman belonging to their regiment. Its comrade vainly struggles -to draw them through the slough in which they are fast. Half-a-dozen -Turkish troopers are on their track, urging those game little horses to -their speed, and escape is hopeless. - -Helpless and mutilated, the poor fellows abandon themselves to their -fate. The Turks ride in and make short work of them, the Muscov dying -with a stolid grim apathy peculiar to himself and his natural foe. The -woman alone shows energy and quickness in her efforts to preserve her -child. She covers the baby over with the straw at the bottom of the -cart; wounded as she is in the confusion, and with an arm broken, she -seeks to divert the attention of her ruthless captors. Satisfied with -their butchery, they are about to ride on in search of fresh victims, -and the mother's heart leaps to think that she has saved her darling. -But the baby cries in its comfortless nest; quick as thought, a Turkish -trooper buries his lance amongst the straw, and withdraws the steel head -and gaudy pennon, reeking with innocent blood. The mother's shriek -flies straight to Heaven. Shall the curse she invokes on that ruthless -brute fall back unheard? Ride on, man of blood--ride on, to burn and -ravage and slay; and when the charge hath swept over thee, and the field -is lost, and thou art gasping out thy life-blood on the plain, think of -that murdered child, and die like a dog in thy despair! - -By a route nearly parallel with the line of flight, but wandering -through an unfrequented district with which the Cossacks seem well -acquainted, the Beloochee and myself proceed towards our captivity. We -have ample leisure to examine our guards, these far-famed Cossacks of -whom warriors hear so much and see so little--the best scouts and -foragers known, hardy, rapid, and enduring, the very eyes and ears of an -army, and for every purpose except fighting unrivalled by any light -cavalry in the world. My original captor, who still clings to me with a -most unwelcome fondness, is no bad specimen of his class. He is mounted -on a shaggy pony, that at first sight seems completely buried even under -the middle-sized man it carries, but with a lean, good head, and wiry -limbs that denote speed and endurance, when put to the test. In a -snaffle bridle, and with its head up, the little animal goes with a -jerking, springing motion, not the least impaired by its day's work, and -the fact that it has now been without food for nearly twenty-four hours. -Its master, the same who keeps his small bright eye so constantly -fastened upon his prisoners, is a man of middle height, spare, strong, -and sinewy, with a bushy red beard and huge moustache. His dress -consists of enormously loose trousers, a tight-fitting jacket, and high -leathern shako; and he sits with his knees up to his chin. His arms are -a short sabre, very blunt, and useless, and a long lance, with which he -delights to do effective service against a fallen foe. He has placed -the Beloochee between himself and me; it seems that he somewhat -mistrusts my companion, but considers myself, a wounded man on one of -their own horses, safe from any attempt at escape. The Beloochee, -notwithstanding that every word calls down a thwack upon his pate -(wounded as it is by the sabre-cut which stunned him) from the shaft of -a lance, hazards an observation, every now and then, in Turkish. It is -satisfactory to find that our guardians are totally ignorant of that -language. I remark, too, that Ali listens anxiously at every halt, and -apparently satisfied with what he hears, though I for my own part can -discern nothing, walks on in a cheerful frame of mind, which I attribute -entirely to the Moslem stoicism. His conversation towards dusk consists -entirely of curses upon his captors; and these worthies, judging of its -tenor by the sound, and sympathising doubtless with the relief thus -afforded, cease to belabour him for his remarks. - -At nightfall the rain came on again as in the morning; and at length it -grew pitch dark, just as we entered a defile, on one side of which was a -steep bank covered with short brushwood, and on the other a wood of -young oaks nearly impenetrable. - -I felt the Beloochee's wrist press mine with an energy that must mean -something. - -"Are you in pain?" he whispered in Turkish, adding a loud and voluble -curse upon the Giaour, much out of unison with his British character, -but which was doubtless mistaken for a round English oath. - -"Not much," I replied in the same language; "but sick and faint at -times." - -"Can you roll off your horse, and down the bank on your left?" he added, -hurriedly. "If you can, I can save you." - -"Save yourself," I replied; "how can I move a step with a ball in my -ankle-bone?" - -"Silence!" interposed the Cossack, with a bang over the Beloochee's -shoulders. - -"Both or none," whispered the latter after a few seconds' interval, "do -exactly as I tell you." - -"Agreed," I replied, and waited anxiously for the result. - -Our Cossack was getting wet through. To his hardy frame such a soaking -could scarcely be called an inconvenience; nevertheless, it created a -longing for a pipe, and the tobacco-bag he had taken from Ali was -fortunately not half emptied. As he stopped to fill and light his short -silver-mounted meerschaum, the spoil of some fallen foe, the troopers in -our rear passed on. We were left some ten paces behind the rest, and -the night was as dark as pitch. - -Ali handed me a small knife: he had concealed that and one other tiny -weapon in the folds of his sash when they searched him on the field of -battle. I knew what he meant, and cut the cord that bound our wrists -together; his other hand, meanwhile, to lull suspicion, caressed the -Cossack's horse. That incautious individual blew upon his match, which -refused to strike a good light. - -In a twinkling Ali's shawl was unwound from his body and thrown -apparently over the Cossack's saddle-bow. The smothered report of a -pocket-pistol smote on my ear, but the sound could not penetrate through -those close Cashmere folds to the party in front, and they rode -unconsciously forward. The Beloochee's hand, too, was on his -adversary's throat; and one or two gasps, as they rolled together to the -ground, made me doubt whether he had been slain by the ball from that -little though effective weapon, or choked in the nervous gripe of the -Asiatic. - -I had fortunately presence of mind to restrain my own horse, and catch -the Cossack's by the bridle; the party in front still rode on. - -Ali rose from the ground. "The knife," he whispered hoarsely, "the -knife!" - -Once, twice, he passed it through that prostrate body. "Throw yourself -off," he exclaimed; "let the horses go. Roll down that bank, and we are -saved!" - -I obeyed him with the energy of a man who knows he has but _one_ chance. -I scarcely felt the pain as I rolled down amongst the brushwood. I -landed in a water-course full of pebbles, but the underwood had served -to break my fall; and though sorely bruised and with a broken ankle, I -was still alive. The Beloochee, agile as a cat, was by my side. - -"Listen," said he; "they are riding back to look for us. No horse on -earth but _one_ can creep down that precipice; lie still. If the moon -does not come out, we are saved." - -Moments of dreadful suspense followed. We could hear the Cossacks -shouting to each other above, and their savage yell when they discovered -their slain comrade smote wildly on our ears. Again I urged the -Beloochee to fly--why should he wait to die with me? I could scarcely -scrawl, and a cold sickness came on at intervals that unnerved me -totally. - -To all my entreaties he made but one reply, "Bakaloum" (We shall see), -"it is our destiny. There is but one Allah!" - -The Cossacks' shouts became fainter and fainter. They seemed to have -divided in search of their late prey. The moon, too, struggled out -fitfully. It was a wild scene. - -The Beloochee whistled--a low, peculiar whistle, like the cry of a -night-hawk. He listened attentively; again he repeated that prolonged, -wailing note. A faint neigh answered it from the darkness, and we heard -the tread of a horse's hoofs approaching at a trot. - -"It is Zuleika," he observed, quietly; "there is but one Allah!" - -A loose horse, with saddle and bridle, trotted up to my companion, and -laid its head against his bosom. Stern as he was, he caressed it as a -mother fondles a child. It was his famous bay mare, "the treasure of his -heart," "the corner of his liver,"--for by such endearing epithets he -addressed her,--and now he felt indeed that he was saved. - -"Mount," he said, "in the name of the Prophet. I know exactly where we -are. Zuleika has the wings of the wind; she laughs to scorn the heavy -steeds of the Giaour; they swallow the dust thrown up by her hoofs, and -Zuleika bounds from them like the gazelle. Oh, _jhanum_!--oh, my soul!" -Once more he caressed her, and the mare seemed well worthy of his -affection; she returned it by rubbing her head against him with a low -neigh. - -I was soon in the saddle, with the Beloochee walking by my side. His -iron frame seemed to acknowledge no fatigue. Once I suggested that the -mare should carry double, and hazarded an opinion that by reducing the -pace we might fairly increase the burden. The remark well-nigh cost me -the loss of my preserver's friendship. - -"Zuleika," he exclaimed, with cold dignity, "Zuleika requires no such -consideration. She is not like the gross horse of the Frank, who sinks -and snorts, and struggles and fails, under his heavy burden. She would -step lightly as a deer under three such men as we are. No, light of my -eyes," he added, smoothing down the thin silky mane of his favourite, "I -will walk by thee and caress thee, and feast my eyes on thy star-like -beauty. Should the Giaour be on our track, I will mount thee with the -Tergyman, and we will show him the mettle of a real daughter of the -desert--my rose, my precious one!" - -She was, indeed, a high-bred-looking animal, although from her great -strength in small compass she appeared less speedy than she really was. -Her colour was a rich dark bay, without a single white hair. Her crest -was high and firm as that of a horse; and her lean, long head and -expressive countenance showed the ancestry by which her doting master -set such store. Though the skin that covered those iron muscles so -loosely was soft and supple as satin, she carried no flesh, and her deep -ribs might almost be counted by the eye. Long in her quarters, with -legs of iron and immense power in her back and loins, she walked with an -elastic, springy gait, such as even my own Injour could not have -emulated. She was of the highest breed in the desert, and as superior -to other horses as the deer is to the donkey. I wondered how my friend -had obtained possession of her; and as we plodded on, the Beloochee, who -had recovered his good-humour, walking by my side, condescended to -inform me of the process by which the invaluable Zuleika had become his -own. - -"Tergyman!" said he, "I have journeyed through many lands, and with the -exception of your country--the island of storms and snows--I have seen -the whole world.[#] In my own land the mountains are high and rugged, -the winters cold and boisterous; it rears _men_ brave and powerful as -_Rustam_, but we must look elsewhere for _horses_. Zuleika, you -perceive, is from the desert: 'The nearer the sun, the nobler the -steed.' She was bred in the tent of a scheik, and as a foal she carried -on her back only such children as had a chief's blood in their veins." - - -[#] This is a common idea amongst Orientals when they have done Mecca -and seen a greater part of Asia Minor. - - -"From my youth up I have been a man of war, Effendi, and the word of -command has been more familiar to my lips than the blessed maxims of the -Prophet; but the time will come when I too shall be obliged to cross the -narrow bridge that spans the abyss of hell. And if my naked feet have -no better protection from its red-hot surface than deeds of arms and -blood-stained victories, woe to me for ever! I shall assuredly fall -headlong into the depths of fire. - -"Therefore I bethought me of a pilgrimage to Mecca, for he is indeed a -true believer who has seen with his own eyes the shrine of the Blessed -Prophet. Many and long were the days I passed under the burning sun of -the desert; wearisome and slow was the march of the caravan. My jaded -camel was without water. I said in my soul, 'It is my destiny to die.' -Far behind the long array, almost out of hearing of their bells, my -beast dragged his weary steps. I quitted his back and led him till he -fell. No sooner was he down than the vultures gathered screaming around -him, though not a speck had I seen for hours in the burning sky. Then I -beheld a small cloud far off on the horizon; it was but of the size of -one of these herdsmen's cottages, but black as the raven, and it -advanced more rapidly than a body of horsemen. Ere I looked again it -seemed to reach the heavens, the skies became dark as night, columns of -sand whirled around me, and I knew the simoom was upon us and it was -time to die. - -"How long I lay there I know not. When I recovered my consciousness, -the caravan had disappeared, my camel was already stripped to the bones -by the birds of prey, my mouth and nostrils were full of sand. Nearly -suffocated, faint and helpless, it was some time ere I was aware of an -Arab horseman standing over me, and looking on my pitiable condition -with an air of kindness and protection. - -"'My brother,' he said, 'Allah has delivered thee into my hand. Mount, -and go with me.' - -"He gave me water from a skin, he put me on his own horse till we were -joined by his tribe; I went with him to his tents, and I became to him -as a brother, for he had saved me at my need. - -"He was a scheik of the wild Bedouins: a better warrior never drew a -sword. Rich was he too, and powerful; but of all his wives and -children, camels, horses, and riches, he had two treasures that he -valued higher than the pearl of Solomon--his bay mare and his daughter -Zuleika." - -The Beloochee's voice trembled, and he paused. For a few seconds he -listened as if to satisfy himself that the enemy were not on our track, -and then nerving himself like a man about to suffer pain, and looking -far into the darkness, he proceeded-- - -"I saw her day after day in her father's tent. Soon I longed for her -light step and gentle voice as we long for the evening breeze after the -glare and heat of the day. At last I watched her dark eyes as we watch -the guiding star by night in the desert. To the scheik I was as a -brother. I was free to come and go in his tent, and all his goods were -mine. Effendi! I am but a man, and I loved the girl. In less than a -year I had become a warrior of their tribe; many a foray had I ridden -with them, and many a herd of camels and drove of horses had I helped -them to obtain. Once I saved the scheik's life with the very sword I -lost to-day. Could they not have given me the girl? Oh! it was bitter -to see her every hour, and to know she was promised to another! - -"A few days more and she was to be espoused to Achmet. He was the -scheik's kinsman, and she had been betrothed to him from a child. I -could bear it no longer. The maiden looked at me with her dark eyes -full of tears. I had eaten the scheik's salt--he had saved me from a -lingering death--he was my host, my friend, my benefactor, and I robbed -him of his daughter. We fled in the night. I owned a horse that could -outstrip every steed in the tribe save one. I took a leathern skin of -water, a few handfuls of barley, and my arms. I placed Zuleika on the -saddle in front of me, and at daybreak we were alone in the desert, she -and I, and we were happy. When the sun had been up an hour, there was a -speck in the horizon behind us. I told Zuleika we were pursued; but she -bid me take courage, for my steed was the best in the tribe, said she, -except her father's bay mare, and he suffered no one to mount that -treasure but himself. She had loosed the bay mare the night before from -her picket-ropes; it would be morning before they could find her, and -there was nothing to fear. I took comfort, and pressed my bride to my -heart. - -"In the desert, Effendi, it is not as with us. The Arab's life depends -upon his horse, and he proves him as you would prove a blade. At two -years old he rides him till his back bends,[#] and he never forgets the -merits of the colt. Each horse's speed is as well known in the tribe as -is each officer's rank in the army of the Padisha. Nothing could -overtake my charger save the scheik's bay mare; and, thanks to Zuleika, -the bay mare must be hours behind us." - - -[#] An Arab maxim, from which they are studious not to depart; their -idea being that a horse's worst year is from three to four; during which -period they let him run perfectly idle, but feeding him at the same time -as if in full work: for, say they, "a horse's goodness goes in at his -mouth." At five he is considered mature. - - -"We galloped steadily on, and once more I looked over my shoulder. The -speck had become larger and darker now, and I caught the gleam of a -lance in the morning sun. Our pursuer must be nearing us; my horse too -began to flag, for I had ridden fiercely, and he carried myself and my -bride. Nevertheless, we galloped steadily on. - -"Once more I looked back. The object was distinct enough now; it was a -horseman going at speed. Allah be praised! there was but one. Zuleika -turned pale and trembled--my lily seemed to fade on my bosom. Effendi, -I had resolved what to do." - - - - - CHAPTER XXI - - ZULEIKA - - -"Man to man, and in the desert, I had but little to fear, yet when I saw -Achmet's face, my heart turned to water within me. He was a brave -warrior. I had ridden by his side many a time in deadly strife; but I -had never seen him look like this before. When I turned to confront -him, my horse was jaded and worn out--I felt that my life was in the -hand of mine enemy. - -"'Achmet,' I said, 'let me go in peace; the maiden has made her -choice--she is mine.' - -"His only answer was a lance-thrust that passed between Zuleika's body -and my own. The girl clung fainting to my bosom, and encumbered my -sword-arm. My horse could not withstand the shock of Achmet's charge, -and rolled over me on the sand. In endeavouring to preserve Zuleika -from injury, my yataghan dropped out of its sheath; my lance was already -broken in the fall, and I was undermost, with the gripe of my adversary -on my throat. Twice I shook myself free from his hold: and twice I was -again overmastered by my rival. His eyes were like living coals, and the -foam flew from his white lips. He was mad, and Allah gave him strength. -The third time his grasp brought the blood from my mouth and nostrils. -I was powerless in his hold. His right arm was raised to strike; I saw -the blade quivering dark against the burning sky. I turned my eyes -towards Zuleika; for even then I thought of _her_. The girl was a true -Arab, faithful to the last. Once, twice, she raised her arm quick and -deadly as the lightning. She had seized my yataghan when it dropped -from its sheath, and she buried it in Achmet's body. I rose from the -ground a living man, and I was saved by her. - -"Effendi, we took the bay mare, and left my jaded horse with the dead -man. For days we journeyed on, and looked not back, nor thought of the -past, for we were all in all to each other; and whilst our barley lasted -and we could find water we knew that we were safe: so we reached Cairo, -and trusted in Allah for the future. I had a sword, a lovely wife, and -the best mare in the world; but I was a soldier, and I could not gain my -bread by trade. I loathed the counters and the bazaar, and longed once -more to see the horsemen marshalled in the field. So I fed and dressed -the bay mare, and cleaned my arms, and leaving Zuleika in the bazaars, -placed myself at the gate of the Pasha, and waited for an audience. - -"He received me kindly, and treated me as a guest of consideration; but -he had a cunning twinkle in his eye that I liked not; and although I -knew him to be as brave as a lion, I suspected he was as treacherous as -the fox; nevertheless, 'the hungry man knows not dates from bread,' and -I accepted service under him willingly, and went forth from his presence -well pleased with my fate. 'Zuleika,' I thought, 'will rejoice to hear -that I have employment, and I shall find here in Cairo a sweet little -garden where I will plant and tend my rose.' - -"I thought to rejoin my love where I had left her, in the bazaar; but -she was gone. I waited hours for her return; she came not, and the -blood thickened round my heart. I made inquiries of the porters and -water-carriers, and all the passers-by that I could find: none had seen -her. One old woman alone thought she had seen a girl answering my -description in conversation with a black, wearing the uniform of the -Pasha; but she was convinced the girl had a fawn-coloured robe, or it -might have been lilac, or perhaps orange, but it certainly was not -green: this could not then be Zuleika, for she wore the colour of the -Prophet. She was lost to me--she for whom I had striven and toiled so -much; my heart sank within me; but I could not leave the place, and for -months I remained at Cairo, and became a Yuz-Bashi in the Guards of the -Pasha. But from that time to this I have had no tidings of Zuleika--my -Zuleika." - -The Beloochee's face was deadly pale, and his features worked with -strong emotion: it was evident that this fierce warrior--man of blood -though he had been from his youth upward--had been tamed by the Arab -girl. She was the one thing on earth he loved, and the love of such -wild hearts is fearful in intensity. After a pause, during which he -seemed to smother feelings he could not command, he proceeded in a -hoarse, broken voice with his tale. - -"The days have never been so bright since I lost her, Effendi; but what -would you? it was my kismet, and I submitted; as we must all submit when -it is fruitless to struggle. Day by day I did my duty, and increased in -the good opinion of the Pasha; but I cared for nothing now save only the -bay mare, and I gave her the name of one whom I should never see again. - -"The Pasha was a haughty old warrior, lavish in his expenses, -magnificent in his apparel, and above all, proud of his horses. Some of -the swiftest and noblest steeds of the desert had found their way into -his stables; and there were three things in the world which it was well -known he would not refuse in the shape of a bribe, these were gold, -beauty, and horse-flesh. Ere long he cast a wistful look on my bay mare -Zuleika. - -"It is well known, Effendi, that an Arab mare of pure race is not to be -procured. The sons of the desert are true to their principles, and -although gold will buy their best horses, they are careful not to part -with their mares for any consideration in the world. For long the Pasha -would not believe that Zuleika was a daughter of that wonderful line -which was blessed so many hundred years ago by the Prophet, nor was I -anxious that he should learn her value, for I knew him to be a man who -took no denial to his will. But when he saw her outstripping all -competitors at the jereed; when he saw her day after day, at work or at -rest, in hardship or in plenty, always smooth and sleek and mettlesome -as you see her now, he began to covet so good an animal, and with the -Pasha to covet was in one way or another to possess. - -"Many a hint was given me that I ought to offer him my bay mare as a -present, and that I might then ask what I would; but to all these I -turned a deaf ear; now that _she_ was gone, what had I in the world but -Zuleika? and I swore in my soul that death alone should part us. At -length the Pasha offered me openly whatever sum I chose to name as the -price of my mare, and suggested at the same time that if I continued -obdurate, it might be possible that he should obtain the animal for -nothing, and that I should never have occasion to get on horseback -again. My life was in danger as well as my favourite. I determined, if -it were possible, to save both. - -"I went to the Pasha's gate and demanded an audience, presenting at the -same time a basket of fruit for his acceptance. He received me -graciously, and ordered pipes and coffee, bidding me seat myself on the -divan by his side. - -"'Ali,' said he, after a few unmeaning compliments, 'Ali, there are a -hundred steeds in my stable. Take your choice of them and exchange with -me your bay mare, three for one." - -"'Pasha!' I replied, 'my bay mare is yours and all that I have, but I am -under an oath, that never in my life am I to _give_ or _sell_ her to any -one.' - -"The Pasha smiled, and the twinkle in his eye betokened mischief. 'It -is said,' he answered, 'an oath is an oath. There is but one Allah!' - -"'Nevertheless, Highness,' I remarked, 'I am at liberty to LOSE her. -She may yet darken the door of your stable if you will match your best -horse against her, the winner to have both. But you shall give me a -liberal sum to run the race.' - -"The Pasha listened eagerly to my proposal. He evidently considered the -race was in his own hands, and I was myself somewhat surprised at the -readiness with which he agreed to an arrangement which he must have -foreseen would end in the discomfiture and loss of his own steed without -the gain of mine. I did not know yet the man with whom I had to deal. - -"'To-morrow, at sunrise,' said the Pasha, 'I am willing to start my -horse for the race; and, moreover, to show my favour and liberality, I -am willing to give a thousand piasters for every ten yards' start you -may choose to take. If my horse outstrips your mare you return me the -money, if you win you take and keep all.' - -"I closed with the proposal, and all night long I lay awake, thinking -how I should preserve Zuleika in my own possession. That I should win I -had no doubt, but this would only expose me to fresh persecutions, and -eventually I should lose my life and my mare too. Towards sunrise a -thought struck me, and I resolved to act upon it. - -"I would hold the Pasha to his word; I would claim a start of fifty -yards, and a present of five thousand piasters. I would take the money -immediately, and girth my mare for the struggle. With fifty yards of -advantage, where was the horse in the world that could come up with -Zuleika? I would fly with her once more into the desert, and take my -chance. Better death with her, than life and liberty deprived of my -treasure. I rose, prayed, went to the bath, and then fed and saddled my -favourite, placing a handful of dates and a small bag of barley behind -the saddle. - -"All Cairo turned out to see the struggle. The Pasha's troops were -under arms, and a strong party of his own guards, the very regiment to -which I belonged, was marshalled to keep the ground. We were to run a -distance of two hours[#] along the sand. Lances pointed out our course, -and we were to return and finish in front of a tent pitched for the -Pasha himself. His ladies were present, too, in their gilded _arabas_, -surrounded by a negro guard. As I led my mare up they waved their -handkerchiefs, and one in particular seemed restless and uneasy. I -imagined I heard a faint scream from the interior of her _araba_; but -the guard closed round it, and ere I had looked a second time it had -been driven from the ground. Just then the Pasha summoned myself and my -competitor to his tent. I cast my eye over my antagonist. He was -considerably lighter than I was, and led a magnificent chestnut -stallion, the best in the Pasha's stables; but when I looked at its -strong but short form, and thought of Zuleika's elastic gait and lengthy -stride, I had no fears for the result." - - -[#] About seven miles. The Asiatic always counts space by time, and an -hour is equivalent to something over a league. - - -"I saluted the Pasha, and made my request. 'Highness,' I said, 'I claim -a start of fifty yards and five thousand piasters. Let the money be -paid, that I may take it with me and begin.' - -"'It is well,' replied the Pasha; '_Kiatib_,' he added, to his -secretary, 'have you prepared the "backshish" for Ali Mesrour? Bestow -it on him with a blessing, that he may mount and away,' and again the -cruel eye twinkled with its fierce grim humour. Effendi, my heart sank -within me when I saw two sturdy slaves bring out a sack, evidently of -great weight, and proceed to lay the burden on my pawing mare. 'What is -this?' I exclaimed, aghast; 'Highness, this is treachery! I am not to -carry all that weight!' - -"'Five thousand piasters, oh my soul!' replied the Pasha, with his most -ferocious grin; 'and all of it _in copper_, too. Mount, in the name of -the Prophet, and away!' - -"My adversary was already in his saddle; the sack was fastened in front -of mine. I saw that if I made the slightest demur, it would be -considered a sufficient excuse to deprive me of my mare, perhaps of my -life. With a prayer to Allah, I got into my saddle. Zuleika stepped -proudly on, as though she made but little of the weight; and I took my -fifty yards of start, and as much more as I could get. The signal-shot -was fired, and we were off. Zuleika sniffed the air of the desert, and -snorted in her joy. Despite of the piasters, she galloped on. Effendi, -from that day to this I have seen neither my antagonist in the race, nor -the negro guard, nor the gilded _arabas_, nor the Pasha's angry smile. -I won my mare, I won my life and freedom; also I carried off five -thousand piasters of the Pasha's money, and doubtless four times a day -he curses me in his prayers, but yonder is the dawn, and here is the -Danube. Sick and faint you must be, Tergyman! Yet in two hours more we -shall reach Omar Pasha's tent, for I myself placed a picket of our -soldiers on either bank at yonder spot, and they have a boat; so take -courage for a little time longer, and confess that the breath of the -morning here is sweeter than the air of a Russian prison. Who can -foretell his destiny? There is but one Allah!" - -I had not the tough frame of my Beloochee friend; before we reached the -waterside I had fainted dead away. I remembered no more till I awoke -from my fever in an hospital tent at head-quarters. On that weary time -of prostration and suffering it is needless for me to dwell. Ere I could -sit upright in bed the winter had commenced, the season for field -operations was over, and the army established in cantonments. There was -a lull, too, before the storm. The Allies had not yet put forth their -strength, and it was far from improbable that the war might even then be -near its conclusion. - -Victor had determined to return to Hungary, and insisted on my -accompanying him. Weak, maimed, and emaciated, I could be of no service -to my chief, or to the great General who had so kindly recognised me. I -had nothing to keep me in Turkey; I had nothing to take me to England. -No, no, anywhere but there. Had I but won a name, I should have -rejoiced to return into Somersetshire, to see Constance once again--to -repay her coldness with scorn--perhaps to pass her without speaking--or, -bitterer still, to greet her with the frankness and ease of a mere -acquaintance. But what was I, to dream thus? A mere adventurer, at best -a poor soldier of fortune, whose destiny, sooner or later, would be but -to fatten a battle-field or encumber a trench, and have his name -misspelt in a _Gazette_. No, no, anywhere but England, and why not -Hungary? Victor's arguments were unanswerable; and once more--but oh! -how changed from the quiet, thoughtful child--I was again at Edeldorf. - - - - - CHAPTER XXII - - VALÈRIE - - -"I tell you I saw them led out under my very windows to be shot. Two -and two they marched, with their heads erect, and their gait as haughty -as if they were leading the assault. Thirteen of them in all, and the -oldest not five-and-forty. Oh! woe to the Fatherland!--the best blood -in Hungary was shed on that fearful day,--the gallant, the true-hearted, -who had risen at the first call, and had been the last to fail. Taken -with arms in their hands, forsooth! What should be in a gentleman's -hands but arms at such a time? Oh, that I had but been a man!" The -girl's dark eyes flashed, and her beautiful chiselled nostril dilated as -she threw her head back, and stamped her little foot on the floor. None -of your soft-eyed beauties was Valèrie de Rohan, but one who sparkled -and blazed, and took your admiration fairly by storm. Those who are -experienced in such matters affirm that these are the least dangerous of -our natural enemies, and that your regular heart-breaker is the gentle, -smiling, womanly woman, who wins her way into the citadel step by step, -till she pervades it all, and if she leaves it, leaves desolation and -ruin behind her. But of this I am incapable of giving an opinion; all I -know is, Valèrie grew soft enough as she went on. - -"I knew every man of them intimately; not one but had been my father's -guest--my poor father, even then fined and imprisoned in Comorn for the -manly part he had played. Not one of them but had been at our -'receptions' in the very room from the windows of which I now saw them -marching forth to die; and not one but as he passed me lifted his -unfettered hand to his head, and saluted me with a courtly smile. Last -of all came Adolphe Zersky, my own second cousin, and the poor boy was -but nineteen. I bore it all till I saw him; but when he passed under my -very eyes, and smiled his usual light-hearted smile, and waved his -handkerchief to me, and pressed it to his lips--a handkerchief I had -embroidered for him with my own hands--and called out blithesomely, as -though he were going to a wedding, 'Good-morning, Comtesse Valèrie; I -meant to have called to-day, but have got a previous engagement,' I -thought my heart would break. He looked prouder than any of them; I -hardly think he would have been set free if he could. He was a true -Hungarian. God bless him!--I heard the shots that struck them down. I -often dream I hear them now. They massacred poor Adolphe last of -all--he retained his _sang-froid_ to the end. The Austrian officer on -guard was an old schoolfellow, and Adolphe remarked to im with a laugh, -just before they led him out, 'I say, Fritz, if they mean to keep us -here much longer, they really ought to give us some breakfast!' - -"Oh, Mr. Egerton, it was a cruel time. I had borne the bombardment well -enough. I had seen our beautiful town reduced to ruins; and I never -winced, for I am the daughter of a Hungarian; but I gave way when they -butchered my friends, and wept--oh, how I wept! What else could I do? -We poor weak women have but our tears to give. Had I _but_ been born a -man!" - -Once more Valèrie's eye flashed, and the proud, wild look gleamed over -her features; while a vague idea that for same days had pervaded my -brain began to assume a certain form, to the effect that Valèrie de -Rohan was a very beautiful woman, and that it was by no means -disagreeable to have such a nurse when one was wounded in body, or such -a friend when one was sick at heart. And she treated me as a _real_ -friend: she reposed perfect confidence in me; she told me of all her -plans and pursuits, her romantic ideas, and visionary schemes for the -regeneration of her country, for she was a true patriot; lastly, she -confessed to a keen admiration for my profession as a soldier, and a -tender pity for my wounds. Who would not have such a friend? Who would -not follow with his eyes such a nurse as she glided about his couch? - -It is useless to attempt the description of a woman. To say that -Valèrie had dark, swimming eyes, and jet-black hair, twisted into a -massive crown on her superb head, and round arms and white hands -sparkling with jewels, and a graceful floating figure, shaped like a -statue, and dressed a little too coquettishly, is merely to say that she -was a commonplace handsome person, but conveys no idea of that subtle -essence of beauty--that nameless charm which casts its spell equally -over the wisest as the weakest, and which can no more be expressed by -words than it can be accounted for by reason. Yet Valèrie was a woman -who would have found her way straight to the hearts of most men. It -seems like a dream to look back to one of those happy days of contented -convalescence and languid repose. Every man who has suffered keenly in -life must have felt that there is in the human organisation an -instinctive reaction and resistance against sorrow, a natural tendency -to take advantage of any lull in the storm, and a disposition to deceive -ourselves into the belief that we are forgetting for the time that which -the very effort proves we too bitterly remember. But even this -artificial repose has a good effect. It gives us strength to bear -future trials, and affords us also time for reflections which, in the -excitement of grief, are powerless to arrest us for a moment. - -So I lay on the sofa in the drawing-room at Edeldorf, and rested my -wounded leg, and shut my eyes to the future, and drew a curtain (alas, -what a transparent one it was!) over the past. There was everything to -soothe and charm an invalid. The beautiful room, with its panelled -walls and polished floor, inlaid like the costliest marquetry, a perfect -mosaic of the forest; the light cane chairs and brocaded ottomans -scattered over its surface; the gorgeous cabinets of ebony and gold that -filled the spaces between the windows, reflected in long mirrors that -ran from floor to ceiling; the gems of Landseer, reproduced by the -engraver, sparkling on the walls--for the Hungarian is very English in -his tastes, and loves to gaze through the mist at the antlered stag whom -Sir Edwin has captured in the corrie, and reproduced in a thousand -halls; or to rest with the tired pony and the boy in _sabots_ at the -halting-place; or to exchange humorous glances with the blacksmith who -is shoeing that wondrously-drawn bay horse, foreshortened into nature, -till one longs to pat him;--all this created a beautiful interior, and -_from_ all this I could let my eyes wander away, through the half-opened -window at the end, over the undulating park, with its picturesque -acacias, far, far athwart the rich Hungarian plain, till it crossed the -dim line of trees marking the distant Danube, and reached the bold -outline of hills beyond the river, melting into the dun vapours of an -afternoon sky. - -And there was but one object to intercept the view. In the window sat -Comtesse Valèrie, her graceful head bent over her work, her pretty hands -flitting to and fro, so white against the coloured embroidery, and her -soft glance ever and anon stealing to my couch, while she asked, with a -foreigner's _empressement_, which was very gratifying, though it might -mean nothing, whether I had all I wanted, and if my leg pained me, and -if I was not wearying for Victor's return from the _chasse_? - -"And you were here years ago, when I was almost a baby, and I was away -on a visit to my aunt at Pesth. Do you know, I always felt as if we were -old friends, even the first day you arrived with Victor, and were lifted -out of the carriage, so pale, so suffering! Oh, how I pitied you! but -you are much better now." - -"How can I be otherwise," was my unavoidable reply, "with so kind a -nurse and such good friends as I find here?" - -"And am I _really_ useful to you? and do you think that my care _really_ -makes you better? Oh! you cannot think how glad I am to know this. I -cannot be a soldier myself, and bear arms for my beloved country; but I -can be useful to those who have done so, and it makes me so proud and so -happy!" - -The girl's colour rose, and her eyes sparkled and moistened at once. - -"But I have not fought for Hungary," I interposed, rather bluntly. "I -have no claim on your sympathies--scarcely on your pity." - -"Do not say so," she exclaimed, warmly. "Setting apart our regard for -you as my brother's friend, it is our enemy with whom you have been -fighting--our oppressor who has laid you now on a wounded couch, far -from your own country and your friends. Do you think I can tolerate a -Russian? he is but one degree better than an Austrian! And I can -_hate_--I tell you I can hate to some purpose!" - -She looked as if she could. What a strange girl she was!--now so soft -and tender, like a gentle ring-dove; anon flashing out into these gleams -of fierceness like a tigress. I was beginning to be a little afraid of -her. She seemed to divine my thoughts, for she laughed merrily, and -resumed, in her usual pleasant voice-- - -"You do not yet know me, Mr. Egerton. I am a true De Rohan, and we are -as strong in our loves as in our hatreds. Beware of either! I warn -you," she added archly, "we are a dangerous race to friend or foe." - -Was this coquetry, or the mere playful exuberance of a girl's spirits? -I began to feel a curious sensation that I had thought I should never -feel again--I am not sure that it was altogether unpleasant. - -Valèrie looked at me for a moment, as if she expected me to say -something; then bent her head resolutely down to her frame, and went on -in a low, rapid voice-- - -"We are a strange family, Mr. Egerton, we 'De Rohans'; and are a true -type of the country to which we belong. We are proud to be thought real -Hungarians--warm-hearted, excitable, impatient, but, above all, earnest -and sincere. We are strong for good and for evil. Our tyrants may -break our hearts, but they cannot subdue our spirit. We look forward to -the time which _must_ come at last. 'Hope on, hope ever!' is our motto: -a good principle, Mr. Egerton, is it not?" - -As I glanced at her excited face and graceful figure, I could not help -thinking that there must be many an aspiring Hungarian who would love -well to hear such a sentiment of encouragement from such lips, and who -would be ready and willing to hope on, though the ever would be a long -word for one of those ardent, impulsive natures. She worked on in -silence for a few minutes, and resumed. - -"You will help us, you English, we all feel convinced. Are you not the -champions of liberty all over the world? And you are so like ourselves -in your manners and thoughts and principles. Tell me, Mr. Egerton, and -do not be afraid to trust me, _is it not true_?" - -"Is not _what_ true?" I asked, from the sofa where I lay, apathetic and -dejected, a strange contrast to my beautiful companion. - -She went to the door, listened, and closed it carefully, then looked out -at the open window, and having satisfied herself there was not a soul -within ear-shot, she came back close to my couch, and whispered, "An -English prince on the throne of Hungary, our constitution and our -parliaments once more, and, above all, deliverance from the iron yoke of -Austria, which is crushing us down to the very earth!" - -"I have never heard of it," said I, with difficulty suppressing a smile -at the visionary scheme, which must have had its origin in some brain -heated and enthusiastic as that of my beautiful companion; "nor do I -think, if that is all you have to look to, that there is much hope for -Hungary." - -She frowned angrily. - -"Oh!" she answered, "you are cautious, Mr. Egerton: you will not trust -me, I can see--but you might do so with safety. We are all -'_right-thinkers_' here. Though they swarm throughout the land, I do -not believe a Government spy has ever yet set foot within the walls of -Edeldorf; but I tell you, if _you_ will not help us, we are lost. You -laugh to see a girl like me interest herself so warmly about politics, -but with us it is a question of life and death. Women, as well as men, -have all to gain or all to lose. I repeat, if you do not help us we -have nothing left to hope for. Russia will take our part, and we shall -fall open-eyed into the trap. Why, even as enemies, they succeeded in -ingratiating themselves with the inhabitants of a conquered country. -Yes, Hungary was a _conquered country_, and the soldiers of the Czar -were our masters. They respected our feelings, they spared our -property, they treated us with courtesy and consideration, and they -lavished gold with both hands, which was supplied to them by their own -Government for the purpose. It is easy to foresee the result. The next -Russian army that crosses the frontier will march in as deliverers, and -Austria _must_ give way. They are generous in promises, and unequalled -in diplomacy. They will flatter our nobles and give us back our -constitution; nay, for a time we shall enjoy more of the outward symbols -of freedom than have ever yet fallen to our lot. And _merely_ as a -compliment, _merely_ as a matter of form, a Russian Grand-Duke will -occupy the palace at Pesth, and assume the crown of St. Stephen simply -as the guardian of our liberties and our rights. Then will be told once -more the well-known tale of Russian intrigue and Russian pertinacity. A -pretence of fusion and a system of favouritism will gradually sap our -nationality and destroy our patriotism, and in two generations it will -be Poland over again. Well, even that would be better than what we have -to endure now." - -"Do you mean to say," I asked, somewhat astonished to find my companion -so inveterate a _hater_, notwithstanding that she had warned me of this -amiable eccentricity in her character,--"do you mean to say that, with -all your German habits and prejudices, nay, with German as your very -mother tongue, you would prefer the yoke of the Czar to that of the -Kaiser?" - -She drew herself up, and her voice quite trembled with anger as she -replied-- - -"The Russians do not beat women. Listen, Mr. Egerton, and then wonder -if you can at my bitter hatred of the Austrian yoke. She was my own -aunt, my dear mother's only sister. I was sitting with her when she was -arrested. We were at supper with a small party of relations and friends. -For the moment we had forgotten our danger and our sorrows and the -troubles of our unhappy country. She had been singing, and was actually -seated at the pianoforte when an Austrian Major of Dragoons was -announced. I will do him the justice to say that he was a gentleman, -and performed his odious mission kindly and courteously enough. At -first she thought there was some bad news of her husband, and she turned -deadly pale; but when the officer stammered out that his business was -with _her_, and that it was his duty to arrest her upon a charge of -treason, the colour came back to her cheek, and she never looked more -stately than when she placed her hand in his, with a graceful bow, and -told him, as he led her away, that 'she was proud to be thought worthy -of suffering for her country.' They took her off to prison that night; -and it was not without much difficulty and no little bribery that we -were permitted to furnish her with a few of those luxuries that to a -lady are almost the necessaries of life. We little knew what was -coming. Oh! Mr. Egerton, it makes my blood boil to think of it. Again, -I say, were I only a _man_!" - -Valèrie covered her face with her hands for a few seconds ere she -resumed her tale, speaking in the cold, measured tones of one who forces -the tongue to utter calmly and distinctly that which is maddening and -tearing at the heart. - -"We punish our soldiers by making them run the gauntlet between their -comrades, Mr. Egerton, and the process is sufficiently brutal to be a -favourite mode of enforcing discipline in the Austrian army. Two -hundred troopers form a double line, at arm's-length distance apart, and -each man is supplied with a stout cudgel, which he is ordered to wield -without mercy. The victim walks slowly down between the lines, stripped -to the waist, and at the pace of an ordinary march. I need hardly say -that ere the unfortunate reaches the most distant files he is indeed a -ghastly object. I tell you, this high-born lady, one of the proudest -women in Hungary, was brought out to suffer that degrading -punishment--to be beaten like a hound. They had the grace to leave her -a shawl to cover her shoulders; and with her head erect and her arms -folded on her bosom, she stepped nobly down the tyrant's ranks. The -first two men refused to strike; they were men, Mr. Egerton, and they -preferred certain punishment to the participation in such an act. They -were made examples of forthwith. The other troopers obeyed their -orders, and she reached the goal bleeding, bruised, and mangled--she, -that beautiful woman, a wife and a mother. Ah! you may grind your teeth, -my friend, and your dog there under the sofa may growl, but it is true, -I tell you, _true_, I saw her myself when she returned to prison, and -she still walked, _so_ nobly, _so_ proudly, like a Hungarian, even then. -Think of our feelings and of those of her own children; think of her -husband's. Mr. Egerton, what would you have done had you been that -woman's husband?" - -"Done!" I exclaimed furiously, for my blood boiled at the bare recital -of such brutality, "I would have shot the Marshal through the heart, -wheresoever I met him, were it at the very altar of a church." - -Valèrie's pale face gleamed with delight at my violence. - -"You say well," she exclaimed, clasping her hands together convulsively; -"you say well. Woman as I am, I would have dipped my hands in his -blood. But no, no, revenge is not for slaves like us; we must suffer -and be still. Hopeless of redress, and unable to survive such -dishonour, her husband blew his brains out. What would you have? it was -but a victim the more. But it is not forgotten--no, it is not -forgotten, and the Marshal lives in the hearts of our Hungarian -soldiers, the object of an undying, unrelenting hatred. I will tell you -an instance that occurred but the other day. Two Hungarian riflemen, -scarcely more than boys, on furlough from the army of Italy, were -passing through the town where he resides. Weary, footsore, and hungry, -they had not wherewithal to purchase a morsel of food. The Kaiser does -not overpay his army, and allows his uniform to cover the man who begs -his bread along the road. An old officer with long moustaches saw these -two lads eyeing wistfully the hot joints steaming in the windows of a -_café_. - -"'My lads,' he said, 'you are tired and hungry, why do you not go in and -dine?' - -"'Excellency,' they replied, 'we come from the army of Italy; we have -marched all the way on foot, we have spent our pittance, and we are -starving.' - -"He gave them a few florins and bade them make merry; he could not see a -soldier want, he said, for he was a soldier too. The young men stepped -joyfully into the _cafê_, and summoned the waiter forthwith. - -"'Do you know,' said he, 'to whom you have just had the honour of -speaking? that venerable old man is Marshal Haynau.' - -"The two soldiers rushed from the room; ere the Marshal had reached the -end of the street they had overtaken him; they cast his money at his -feet, and departed from him with a curse that may have been heard in -Heaven, but was happily inaudible at the nearest barrack. So is it with -us all; those two soldiers had but heard of his cruelty, whilst I, I had -stood by and seen her wounds dressed after her punishment. Judge if I -do not _love_ him! But, alas! I am but a woman, a poor weak woman; -what can I do?" - -As she spoke, we heard Victor's step approaching across the lawn, and -Valèrie was once more the graceful, high-born lady, with her assured -carriage and careless smile. As she took up her embroidery and greeted -her brother playfully, with an air from the last new opera, hummed in -the richest, sweetest voice, who would have guessed at the volcano of -passions concealed beneath that calm and almost frivolous exterior. Are -women possessed of a double existence, that they can thus change on the -instant from a betrayal of the deepest feelings to a display of -apparently utter heartlessness? or are they only accomplished -hypocrites, gifted with no _real_ character at all, and putting on joy -or sorrow, smiles or tears, just as they change their dresses or alter -the trimmings of their bonnets, merely for effect? I was beginning to -study them now in the person of Valèrie, and to draw comparisons between -that lady and my own ideal. It is a dangerous occupation, particularly -for a wounded man; and one better indeed for all of us, in sickness or -in health, let alone. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII - - FOREWARNED - - -It was a pleasant life that we led in the fine old castle at Edeldorf. -Victor was always an enthusiast in field-sports, and since his return -from the war he devoted himself to the pursuit of wild animals more -assiduously than ever. This was no less a measure of prudence than of -inclination on the part of my friend. An inveterate Nimrod seldom -busies himself much with politics, and as the antecedents of the De -Rohans had somewhat compromised that patriotic family in the eyes of the -Government, its present representative was looked on less unfavourably -in the character of a young thoughtless sportsman, than he would have -been as a disaffected man brooding in solitude, and reserving his -energies for more dangerous occupations. - -Moreover, to one who loved the fresh breath of morning and the crack of -the rifle, Edeldorf was a perfect paradise. Within a ride of two hours -its hills furnished many a pair of antlers for the castle hall, and the -wild boar whetted his tusks upon the stem of many a fine old forest tree -in its deep woodlands. An occasional wolf and a possible bear or two -enhanced the interest of the chase; and when the Count quitted his home -at early morning, belted and equipped for his work, he could promise -himself a day of as varied enjoyment as the keenest sportsman could -desire. - -I was getting rapidly better, but still unable to accompany my friend on -these active expeditions. I am not sure that I longed very eagerly to -participate in their delights. As I got stronger, I think I felt less -inclined to break my habits of convalescence and helplessness--a -helplessness that made me very dependent on Valèrie de Rohan. - -I was awaking from a pleasant dream of evening skies and perfumed -orange-groves and soft music, with a dim vision of floating hair and -muslin dresses, when Victor, with a lighted candle in his hand, entered -my apartment--a habit he had acquired in boyhood, and which he continued -through life--to bid me "Good-morning," and favour me with his -anticipations of his day's amusement. - -"I wish you were well enough to come with me, Vere," said he, as he -peered out into the dark morning, not yet streaked with the faintest -vestige of dawn. "There is nothing like shooting, after all; war is a -mistake, Vere, and an uncomfortable process into the bargain; but -shooting, I find, gives one quite as much excitement, and has the -advantage of being compatible with a comfortable dwelling and plenty to -eat every day. I have changed my note, Vere, and I say _Vive la -chasse!_ now." - -"Did you wake me to tell me that?" I yawned out, as I warded the light -of the candle from my sleepy eyes, "or do you wish me to get out of my -warm bed this cold morning and hold a discussion with you on the -comparative attraction of shooting men and beasts? The former is -perhaps the more exciting, but the latter the more innocent." - -Victor laughed. "You lazy, cold Englander!" he replied; "I woke you as -I always do when I anticipate a pleasant day, that I may tell you all I -expect to do. In the first place, I shall have a delightful ride up to -the hills; I wish you could accompany me. A cigar before dawn, after a -cup of coffee, is worth all the smoking of the rest of the twenty-four -hours put together. I shall gallop the whole way, and a gallop counts -for something in a day's happiness. Confess _that_, at least, you cold, -unimpassioned mortal." - -I pointed to my wounded leg, and smiled. - -"Oh! you will soon be able to get on horseback, and then we two must -scamper about across the country once more, as we used to do when we -were boys," resumed Victor; "in the meantime, Valèrie will take care of -you, and you must get well as quick as you can. What a charming ride it -is up to the hills: I shall get there in two hours at the outside, for -Caspar goes like the wind; then to-day we mean to beat the woods at the -farthest extremity of the Waldenberg, where my poor father shot the -famous straight-horned stag years and years ago. There are several wild -boar in the ravine at the bottom, and it was only the season before last -that Vocqsal shot a bear within twenty yards of the waterfall." - -"By the bye," I interrupted him, "are bears and boars and red-deer the -only game you have in view? or are there not other attractions as -fascinating as shooting, in the direction of the Waldenberg?" - -It was a random shaft, but it hit the mark; Victor positively blushed, -and I could not help thinking as I watched him, what a handsome fellow -he was. A finer specimen of manly beauty you would hardly wish to see -than the young Count de Rohan, as he stood there in his green -shooting-dress, with his powder-horn slung across his shoulder, and his -hunting-knife at his waist. Victor was now in the full glow of youthful -manhood, tall, active, and muscular, with a symmetry of frame that, -while it was eminently graceful, qualified him admirably for athletic -exercises, and a bearing that can best be described by the emphatic term -"high-bred." There was a woman's beauty in his soft blue eyes and silky -hair of the richest brown, but his marked features, straight, determined -eyebrows, and dark, heavy moustaches, redeemed the countenance, -notwithstanding its bright winning expression, from the charge of -effeminacy. Perhaps, after all, the greatest charm about him was his -air of complete enjoyment and utter forgetfulness of self. Every -thought of his mind seemed to pass across his handsome face; and to -judge by appearances, the thoughts were of the pleasantest description, -and now he absolutely blushed as he hurried on without taking any notice -of my remark-- - -"If I can bring Valèrie back a bear-skin for her sledge, I shall be -quite satisfied; and I will tell you all about my _chasse_ and my day's -adventures over a cigar when I return. Meantime, my dear fellow, take -care of yourself, order all my carriages and horses, if they are of the -slightest use to you, and farewell, or rather _au revoir_." - -I heard him humming his favourite waltz as he strode along the gallery -(by the way, the very Ghost's Gallery of our childish adventure), and in -another minute his horse's hoofs were clattering away at a gallop into -the darkness. Whilst I turned round in bed with a weary yawn, and after -patting Bold's head--a compliment which that faithful animal returned by -a low growl, for the old dog, though true and stanch as ever, was -getting very savage now,--I composed myself to cheat a few more hours of -convalescence in sleep. What a contrast to my friend! Weary, wounded, -and disappointed, I seemed to have lived my life out, and to have -nothing more now to hope or to fear. I had failed in ambition, I had -made shipwreck in love. I was grey and old in heart, though as yet -young in years; whilst Victor, at the same age as myself, had all his -future before him, glowing with the sunshine of good health, good -spirits, and prosperity. Let us follow the child of fortune as he -gallops over the plain, the cool breath of morning fanning his brow and -lifting his clustering hair. - -To a man who is fond of riding--and what Hungarian is not?--there is no -country so fascinating as his own native plains, where he can gallop on -mile after mile, hour after hour, over a flat surface, unbroken even by -a molehill, and on a light sandy soil, just so soft as to afford his -horse a pleasant easy footing, but not deep enough to distress him. -Although I could never myself appreciate the ecstatic pleasures of a -gallop, or comprehend why there should be a charm about a horse that is -not possessed by the cow, the giraffe, the hippopotamus, or any other -animal of the larger order of mammalia, I am not so prejudiced as to be -unaware that in this respect I am an exception to the general run of my -countrymen. Now, I cannot shut my eyes to the fact that there are men -whose whole thoughts and wishes centre themselves in this distinguished -quadruped; who grudge not to ruin their wives and families for his -society; and who, like the Roman Emperor, make the horse the very -high-priest of their domestic hearth. To such I would recommend a -gallop on a hard-puller over the plains of Hungary. Let him go! There -is nothing to stop him for forty miles; and if you cannot bring him to -reason in about a minute and a half, you must for ever forfeit your -claim to be enrolled amongst the worshipful company of Hippodami to -which it seems the noblest ambition of aspiring youth to belong. A -deacon of the craft was my friend Victor; and I really believe he -enjoyed a pleasure totally unknown to the walking biped, as he urged -Caspar along at speed, his fine figure swaying and yielding to every -motion of the horse, with a pliancy that, we are informed by those who -pique themselves on such matters, can only be acquired by long years of -practice superinduced on a natural, or, as they would term it, -"heaven-born," aptitude to excel in the godlike art. - -So Victor galloped on like Mazeppa, till the dawn "had dappled into -day"; and save to light a fresh cigar, gave Caspar no breathing-time -till the sun was above the horizon, and the dew-drops on the acacias -glittered like diamonds in the morning light. As he quitted the plains -at last, and dropped his rein on his horse's neck, while he walked him -slowly up the stony road that led to the Waldenberg, he caught sight of -a female figure almost in the shadow of the wood, the flutter of whose -dress seemed to communicate a corresponding tremor to Victor's heart. -The healthy glow paled on his cheek, and his pulses beat fitfully as he -urged poor Caspar once more into a gallop against the hill, none the -less energetically that for nearly a mile a turn in the road hid the -object of interest from his sight. What a crowd of thoughts, hopes, -doubts, and fears passed through his mind during that long mile of -uncertainty, which, had they resolved themselves into words, would have -taken the following form:--"Can she have really come here to meet me, -after all? Who else would be on the Waldenberg at this early hour? -What can have happened?--is it possible that she has walked all this way -on purpose to see me alone, if only for five minutes, before our -_chasse_ begins? Then she loves me, after all!--and yet she told me -herself she was so volatile, so capricious. No, it is impossible!--she -won't risk so much for me. And yet it is--it must be! It is just her -figure, her walk,--how well I know them. I have mistrusted, I have -misjudged her; she is, after all, true, loving, and devoted. Oh! I -will make her such amends." Alas! poor Victor; the lady to whom you are -vowing so deep a fidelity--to whom you are so happy to think you owe so -much for her presence on the wild Waldenberg--is at this moment drinking -chocolate in a comfortable dressing-room by a warm stove at least ten -miles off; and though you might, and doubtless would, think her -extremely lovely in that snowy _robe de chambre_, with its -cherry-coloured ribbons, I question whether you would approve of the -utter indifference which her countenance displays to all sublunary -things, yourself included, with the exception of that very dubious -French novel on her knee, which she is perusing or rather devouring with -more than masculine avidity. Better draw rein at once, and ride back to -Edeldorf, for one hundred yards more will undeceive you at the turn -round that old oak-tree; and it is no wonder that you pull up in utter -discomfiture, and exclaim aloud in your own Hungarian, and in tones of -bitter disgust--"Psha! it's only a Zingynie, after all." - -"_Only_ a Zingynie, Count de Rohan!" replied a dark majestic old woman, -with a frown on her fine countenance and a flash in her dark eye, as she -placed herself across the road and confronted the astonished horseman; -"_only_ your father's friend and your own; _only_ an interpreter of -futurity, who has come to warn you ere it be too late. Turn back, Victor -de Rohan, to your own halls at Edeldorf. I have read your horoscope, and -it is not good for you to go on." - -Victor had by this time recovered his good-humour; he forced a few -florins into the woman's unwilling hand. "Promise me a good day's sport, -mother!" he said, laughingly, "and let me go. I ought to be there -already." - -"Turn back, my child, turn back," said the gipsy; "I will save you if I -can. Do you know that there is danger for you on the Waldenberg? Do -you know that I--I, who have held you in my arms when you were a baby, -have walked a-foot all the way from the Banat on purpose to warn you? -Do you think I know not why you ride here day after day, that you may -shoot God's wild animals with that bad old man? Is it purely for love -of sport, Victor de Rohan? Answer me that!" - -He waxed impatient, and drew his reins rudely from the woman's grasp. - -"Give your advice when it is asked, mother," said he, "and do not delay -me any longer. If you want food and shelter, go down to Edeldorf. I -can waste no more time with a chattering old woman here." - -She was furious; she flung the money he had given her down beneath his -horse's feet. Tears rose to her eyes, and her hand shook with passion -as she pointed with outstretched arm in the direction of the Waldenberg. - -"Ay, go on," said she, "go on, and neglect the gipsy's warning till it -is too late. Oh! you are a nobleman and a soldier, and you know best; a -man of honour, too, and you will go _there_. Listen to me once for all, -Victor de Rohan, for I loved you as a baby, and I would save you even -now, if I could. I slept by the waters of the Danube, and I saw in a -vision the child I had fondled in my arms full-grown and handsome, and -arrived at man's estate. He was dressed as you are now, with powder-horn -and hunting-knife slung over his broad shoulders, and the rifle that he -set such store by was in his hand. He spoke kindly and smilingly as was -his wont, not angrily as you did now. He was mounted on a good horse, -and I was proud to watch him ride gallantly away with St. Hubert's -blessing and my own. Again I saw him, but this time not alone. There -was a fair and lovely woman by his side, dressed in white, and he hung -his head, and walked listlessly and slowly, as though his limbs were -fettered and he was sore and sick at heart. I could not bear to think -the boy I had loved was no longer free; and when he turned his face -towards me it was pale and sorrowful, and there was suffering on his -brow. Then my dream changed, and I saw the Waldenberg, with its rugged -peaks and its waving woods, and the roar of the waterfall sounded -strange and ominous in my ears; and there were clouds gathering in the -sky, and the eagle screamed as he swept by on the blast, and the rain -plashed down in large heavy drops, and every drop seemed to fall chill -upon my heart. Then I sat me down, weary and sorrowful, and I heard the -measured tread of men, and four noble-looking foresters passed by me, -bearing a body covered with a cloak upon their shoulders, and one said -to the other, 'Alas for our master! is it not St. Hubert's day?' But a -corner of the cloak fell from the face of him they carried, and I knew -the pale features, damp with death, and the rich brown hair falling limp -across the brow--it was the corpse of him whom I had loved as a baby and -watched over as a man, and I groaned in my misery and awoke. Oh, my boy, -my young handsome De Rohan, turn, then, back from the Waldenberg, for -the old Zingynie's sake." - -"Nonsense, mother," replied Victor, impatiently; "St. Hubert's day is -past; I cannot help your bad dreams, or stay here to prate about them -all day. Farewell! and let me go." He turned his horse's head from her -as he spoke, and went off at a gallop. - -The old gipsy woman looked after him long and wistfully, as the clatter -of his horse's hoofs died away on the stony causeway; she sat down by -the roadside, buried her face in her cloak, and wept bitterly and -passionately; then she rose, picked up the money that lay neglected on -the ground, and took her way down the hill, walking slow and dejected, -like one who is hopelessly and grievously disappointed, and ever and -anon muttering to herself, in words that seemed to form something -between a curse and a prayer. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV - - "ARCADES AMBO" - - -Prince Vocqsal possessed a delightful shooting-box in the immediate -vicinity of the Waldenberg; and, as a portion of those magnificent -woodlands was on his property, he and the De Rohans, father and son, had -long established a joint guardianship and right of sporting over that -far-famed locality. Perhaps what the Prince called a shooting-box, an -Englishman's less magnificent notions would have caused him to term a -country-house; for the "chalet," as Madame la Princesse delighted to -name it, was a roomy, commodious dwelling, with all the appliances of a -comfortable mansion, furnished in the most exquisite taste. She herself -had never been induced to visit it till within the last few weeks--a -circumstance which had not seemed to diminish its attractions in the -eyes of the Prince; now, however, a suite of apartments was fitted up -expressly for "Madame," and this return to primitive tastes and rural -pleasures, on the part of that fastidious lady, was hailed by her -domestics with astonishment, and by her husband with a good-humoured and -ludicrous expression of dismay. To account for the change in Madame's -habits, we must follow Victor on his solitary ride, the pace of which -was once more reduced to a walk as soon as he was beyond the gipsy's -ken. Who does not know the nervous anxiety with which we have all of us -sometimes hurried over the beginning of a journey, only to dawdle out -its termination, in absolute dread of the very moment which yet we long -for so painfully. - -Now, it was strange that so keen a sportsman as Victor, one, moreover, -whose ear was as practised as his eye was quick, should have been -deceived in the direction from which he heard the reports of at least -half-a-dozen shots, that could only have been fired from the gun of his -friend the Prince, whom he had promised faithfully to meet that morning -at a certain well-known pass on the Waldenberg. It was strange that, -instead of riding at once towards the spot where he must have seen the -smoke from a gun actually curling up amongst the trees, he should have -cantered off in an exactly opposite direction, and never drawn rein till -he arrived at the gate of a white house surrounded by acacias, at least -five miles from the familiar and appointed trysting-place, and in a part -of the Waldenberg by no means the best stocked with game. - -It was strange, too, that he should have thought it necessary to inform -the grim hussar who opened the door how he had unaccountably missed the -Prince in the forest, and had ridden all this distance out of his way to -inquire about him, and should have asked that military-looking -individual, in a casual manner, whether it was probable Madame la -Princesse could put him in the right way of finding his companion, so as -not to lose his day's sport. It might have occurred to the hussar, if -not too much taken up with his moustaches, that the simplest method for -so intimate a friend would have been to have asked at once if "Madame -was at home," and then gone in and prosecuted his inquiries in person. -If a shrewd hussar, too, he may have bethought him that the human biped -is something akin to the ostrich, and is persuaded, like that foolish -bird, that if he can only hide his head, no one can detect his great -long legs. Be this how it may, the official never moved a muscle of his -countenance, and in about half-a-minute Victor found himself, he did not -exactly know how, alone with "Madame" in her boudoir. - -She gave him her hand, with one of those sunny smiles that used to go -straight to the Hungarian's heart. Madame was never demonstrative; -although her companion would joyfully have cast himself at her feet and -worshipped her, she wilfully ignored his devotion; and while she knew -from his own lips that he was her lover, nor had the slightest objection -to the avowal, she persisted in treating him as a commonplace friend. -It was part of her system, and it seemed to answer. Princess Vocqsal's -lovers were always wilder about her than those of any other dame half -her age and possessed of thrice her beauty. She had the knack of -managing that strange compound of vanity, recklessness, and warm -affections which constitutes a man's heart; and she took a great delight -in playing on an instrument of which she had sounded all the chords, and -evoked all the tones, till she knew it thoroughly, and undervalued it -accordingly. - -Victor had very little to say! he who was generally so gay and unabashed -and agreeable. His colour went and came, and his hand positively shook -as he took hers--so cold, and soft, and steady--and carried it to his -lips. - -"What, lost again in the Waldenberg?" said she, with a laugh, "and -within five leagues of Edeldorf. Count de Rohan, you are really not fit -to be trusted by yourself; we must get you some one to take care of -you." - -Victor looked reproachfully at her. - -"Rose," he stammered, "you laugh at me; you despise me. Again I have -succeeded in seeing you without creating suspicion and remark; but I -have had to do that which is foreign to my nature, and you know not what -it costs me. I have had to act, if not to speak, a lie. I was to have -met the Prince at the waterfall, and I wilfully missed him that I might -come down here to inquire which way he had gone; I felt like a coward -before the eye of the very servant who opened your door; and all to look -on you for five minutes--to carry back with me the tones of your beloved -voice, and live upon them for weeks in my dreary home, till I can see -you again. Rose! Rose! you little know how I adore you." - -"But I cannot pity you in this instance, Monsieur le Comte," replied the -lady; "I cannot, indeed. Here you are, in my comfortable boudoir, with -a warm stove, and a polished floor, and your choice of every arm-chair -and sofa in the room, instead of stamping about on that bleak and dreary -Waldenberg, with your hands cold and your feet wet, and a heavy rifle to -carry, and in all probability nothing to shoot. Besides, sir, does my -company count for nothing, instead of that of _Monsieur le Prince_? It -may be bad taste, but I confess that, myself, I very much prefer my own -society to his." And the Princess laughed her cheerful ringing laugh, -that seemed to come straight from the heart. - -Victor sighed. "You will never be serious, Rose, for a minute -together." - -"Serious!" she replied, "no! why should I? Have I not cause to be -merry? I own I might have felt _triste_ and cross to-day if I had been -disappointed; but you are come, _mon cher Comte_, and everything is -_couleur de rose_." - -This was encouraging; and Victor opened the siege once more. He loved -her with all the enthusiasm and ardour of his warm Hungarian heart. -Wilfully shutting his eyes to ruin, misery, and crime, he urged her to -be his--to fly with him--to leave all for his sake. He vowed to devote -himself to her, and her alone. He swore he would obey her lightest -word, and move heaven and earth to fulfil her faintest wish for the rest -of his life, would she but confide her happiness to him. He was mad--he -was miserable without her: life was not worth having unless gilded by -her smiles; he would fly his country if she did not consent: he would -hate her, he would never see her more, and a great deal to the same -purpose, the outpouring of an eager, generous nature, warped by -circumstances to evil; but in vain; the lady was immovable; she knew too -well the value of her position to sacrifice it for so empty an illusion -as love. Prudence, with the Princess, stood instead of principle; and -Prudence whispered, "Keep all you have got, there is no need to -sacrifice anything. You have all the advantage, take care to retain it. -He may break his chains to-day, but he will come back voluntarily and -put them on again to-morrow! it is more blessed to _receive_ than to -_give_." Such was the Princess's reasoning, and she remained firm and -cold as a rock. At last his temper gave way, and he reproached her -bitterly and ungenerously. - -"You do not love me," he said; "cold, false, and heartless, you have -sacrificed me to your vanity; but you shall not enjoy your triumph long; -from henceforth I renounce you and your favour--from this day I will -never set eyes on you again. Rose! for the last time I call you by that -dear name; Rose! for the last time, Farewell!" - -She tried the old conquering glance once more, but it failed. She even -pressed his hand, and bade him wait and see the Prince on his return, -but in vain. For the time, her power was gone. With lips compressed, -and face as white as ashes, Victor strode from the room. In less than -five minutes he was mounted, and galloping furiously off in the -direction of Edeldorf. - -Princess Vocqsal was a sad coquette, but she was a woman after all. She -went to the window, and gazed wistfully after the horseman's figure as -it disappeared amongst the acacias. - -"Alas!" she thought, "poor Victor, it is too late now! So gallant, so -loving, and so devoted. Ten years ago I had a heart to give, and you -should have had it then, wholly and unreservedly; but now--what am I -now? Oh that I could but be as I was then! Too late! too late!" - -Her _femme-de-chambre_ attributed Madame's _migraine_ entirely to the -weather and the dulness of the country, so different from Paris, or even -Vienna; for that domestic at once perceived her mistress's eyes were red -with weeping, when she went to dress. But sal volatile and rouge, -judiciously applied, can work wonders. The Princess never looked more -brilliant than when she descended to dinner, and she sat up and finished -her French novel that night before she went to bed. - -Victor must have been half-way home when, leaning on his sister's arm, I -crept out into the garden to enjoy an hour of fresh air and sunshine in -the company of my sedulous nurse and charming companion. Valèrie and I -had spent the morning together, and it had passed like a dream. She had -made my breakfast, which she insisted on giving me in truly British -fashion, and poured out my tea herself, as she laughingly observed, -"_comme une meess Anglaise_." She had played me her wild Hungarian airs -on the pianoforte, and sung me her plaintive national songs, with -sweetness and good-humour. She had even taught me a new and intricate -stitch in her embroidery, and bent my stubborn fingers to the task with -her own pretty hands; and now, untiring in her care and kindness, she -was ready to walk out with me in the garden, and wait upon all my whims -and fancies as a nurse does for a sick child. I could walk at last with -no pain, and but little difficulty. Had I not been so well taken care -of, I think I should have declared myself quite recovered; but when you -have a fair round arm to guide your steps, and a pair of soft eyes to -look thrillingly into yours--as day after day a gentle voice entreats -you not to hurry your convalescence and "attempt to do too much," it is -a great temptation to put off as long as possible the evil hour when you -must declare yourself quite sound again, and begin once more to walk -alone. - -So Valèrie and I paced up and down the garden, and drank in new life at -every pore in the glad sunshine and the soft balmy air. - -It was one of those days which summer seems to have forgotten, and which -we so gladly welcome when we find it at the close of autumn. A warm, -mellow sunshine brightened the landscape, melting in the distance into -that golden haze which is so peculiarly the charm of this time of year: -while the fleecy clouds, that seemed to stand still against the clear -sky, enhanced the depth and purity of that wondrous, matchless blue. -Not a breath stirred the rich yellow leaves dying in masses on the -trees; and the last rose of the garden, though in all the bloom of -maturity, had shed her first petal, and paid her first tribute to decay. -Valèrie plucked it, and gave it me with a smile, as we sat down upon a -low garden seat at one extremity of the walk. I thanked her, and, I -know not why, put it to my lips before I transferred it to the -buttonhole of my coat. There was a silence of several minutes. - -I broke it at last by remarking "that I should soon be well now, and -must ere long bid adieu to Edeldorf." - -She started as though I had interrupted a train of pleasant thoughts, -and answered, with some commonplace expression of regret and hope, that -"I would not hurry myself;" but I thought her voice was more constrained -than usual, and she turned her head away as she spoke. - -"Valèrie," I said--and this was the first time I had ever called her by -her Christian name--"it is no use disguising from oneself an unpleasant -truth: my duty, my character, everything bids me leave my happy life -here as soon as I am well enough. You may imagine how much I shall -regret it, but you cannot imagine how grateful I feel for all your -kindness to me. Had you been my sister, you could not have indulged me -more. It is not my nature to express half I feel, but believe me, that -wherever I go, at any distance of time or place, the brightest jewel in -my memory will be the name of the Comtesse de Rohan." - -"You called me Valèrie just now," said she, quickly. - -"Well, of Valèrie, then," I replied. "Your brother is the oldest friend -I have--older even than poor Bold." That sagacious dog had lain down at -our feet, and was looking from one to the other with a ludicrous -expression of wistful gravity, as if he could not make it all out. Why -should he have reminded me at that instant so painfully of the glorious -struggle for life and death in Beverley mere? That face! that face! -would it never cease to haunt me with its sweet, sad smile? "Yes, -Valèrie," I proceeded, "that he should have received me as a brother is -only what I expected, but your unwearying kindness overpowers me. -Believe me, I feel it very deeply, and I shall leave you, oh! with such -regret!" - -"And we too shall regret you very much," answered Valèrie, with flushed -cheeks and not very steady tones. "But can you not stay a little longer? -your health is hardly re-established, though your wound is healed, -and--and--it will be very lonely when you are gone." - -"Not for you," I replied; "not for the young Comtesse de Rohan (well, -Valèrie, then), admired and sought after by all. Beautiful and -distinguished, go where you will, you are sure to command homage and -affection. No, it is all the other way, _I_ shall be lonely, if you -like." - -"Oh, but men are so different," said she, with a glance from under those -long, dark eyelashes. "Wherever they go they find so much to interest, -so much to occupy them, so much to do, so many to love." - -"Not in my case," I answered, rather pursuing my own train of thoughts -than in reply to my companion. "Look at the difference between us. You -have your home, your brother, your friends, your dependants, all who can -appreciate and return your affection; whilst I, I have nothing in the -world but my horses and my sword." - -She looked straight into my face, a cloud seemed to pass over her -features, and she burst into tears. In another moment she was sobbing -on my breast as if her heart would break. - -A horse's hoofs were heard clattering in the stable yard, and as Victor, -pale and excited, strode up the garden, Valèrie rushed swiftly into the -house. - - - - - CHAPTER XXV - - "DARK AND DREARY" - - -The pea-soup thickness of a London fog is melting into drizzling rain. -The lamp-posts and area railings in Mayfair are dripping with wet, like -the bare copses and leafless hedges miles off in the country. It is a -raw, miserable day, and particularly detestable in this odious town, as -a tall old gentleman seems to think who has just emerged from his hotel -into the chill, moist atmosphere; and whose well-wrapped-up exterior, -faultless goloshes, and neat umbrella denote one of that class who are -seldom to be met with in the streets during the winter season. As he -picks his way along the sloppy pavement, he turns to scan the action of -every horse that splashes by, and ventures, moreover, on sundry peeps -under passing bonnets with a pertinacity, and, at the same time, an air -of unconsciousness that prove how habit can become second nature. The -process generally terminates in disappointment, not to say disgust, and -Sir Harry Beverley--for it is no less a person than the Somersetshire -Baronet--walks on, apparently more and more dissatisfied with the world -in general at every step he takes. As he paces through Grosvenor-square -he looks wistfully about him, as though for some means of escape. He -seems bound on an errand for which he has no great fancy, and once or -twice he is evidently on the point of turning back. Judging by his -increase of pace in South Audley-street, his courage would appear to be -failing him rapidly; but the aspect of Chesterfield House, the glories -of which he remembers well in its golden time, reassures him; and with -an inward ejaculation of "poor D'Orsay!" and a mental vision of that -extraordinary man, who conquered the world with the aid only of his -whiskers and his cab-horse, Sir Harry walks on. "They are pleasant to -look back upon," thinks the worn old "man of the world"--"those days of -Crocky's and Newmarket, and cheerful Melton, with its brilliant gallops, -and cozy little dinners, and snug parties of whist. London, too, was -very different in my time. Society was not so large, and _we_" (meaning -the soliloquist and his intimate friends) "could do what we liked. Ah! -if I had my time to come over again!" and something seems to knock at -Sir Harry's heart, as he thinks, if indeed he could live life over once -more, how differently he would spend it. So thinks every man who lives -for aught but doing good. It is dreadful at last to look along the -valley that was once spread before us so glad and sunny, teeming with -corn, and wine, and oil, and to see how barren we have left it. Count -your good actions on your fingers, as the wayfarer counts the miles he -has passed, or the trader his gains, or the sportsman his successes--can -you reckon one a day? a week? a month? a year? And yet you will want a -large stock to balance those in the other scale. Man is a reasoning -being and a free agent: he makes a strange use of both privileges. - -At last Sir Harry stops in front of a neat little house with the -brightest of knockers and the rosiest of muslin curtains, and flowers in -its windows, and an air of cheerful prettiness even in this dull dark -day. - -A French servant, clean and sunshiny as French servants always are, -answers the visitor's knock, and announces that "Monsieur" has been "de -Service"; or in other words, that Captain Ropsley has that morning come -"off guard." Whilst the Baronet divests himself of his superfluous -clothing in an outer room, let us take a peep at the Guardsman in his -luxurious little den. - -Ropsley understands comfort thoroughly, and his rooms are as tastefully -furnished and as nicely arranged as though there were present the genius -of feminine order to preside over his retreat. Not that such is by any -means the case. Ropsley is well aware that he owes much of his success -in life to the hardness of his heart, and he is not a man to throw away -a single point in the game for the sake of the sunniest smile that ever -wreathed a fair false face. He is no more a man of pleasure than he is -a man of business, though with him pleasure is business, and business is -pleasure. He has a sound calculating head, a cool resolute spirit, an -abundance of nerve, no sentiment, and hardly any feeling whatever. Just -the man to succeed, and he does succeed in his own career, such as it -is. He has established a reputation for fashion, a position in the -world; with a slender income he lives in the highest society, and on the -best of everything; and he has no one to thank for all these advantages -but himself. As he lies back in the depths of his luxurious armchair, -smoking a cigar, and revelling in the coarse witticisms of Rabelais, -whose strong pungent satire and utter want of refinement are admirably -in accordance with his own turn of mind, a phrenologist would at once -read his character in his broad but not prominent forehead, his cold, -cat-like, grey eye, and the habitual sneer playing round the corners of -an otherwise faultless mouth. Handsome though it be, it is not a face -the eye loves to look upon. During the short interval that elapses -between his servant's announcement and his visitor's entrance, Ropsley -has time to dismiss Rabelais completely from his mind, to run over the -salient points of the conversation which he is determined to have with -Sir Harry, and to work out "in the rough" two or three intricate -calculations, which are likely somewhat to astonish that hitherto -unconscious individual. He throws away his cigar, for he defers to the -prejudices of the "old school," and shaking his friend cordially by the -hand, welcomes him to town, stirs the fire, and looks, as indeed he -feels, delighted to see him. - -Sir Harry admires his young friend much, there is something akin in -their two natures; but the acquired shrewdness of the elder man is no -match for the strong intellect and determined will of his junior. - -"I have come up as you desired, my dear fellow," said the Baronet, "and -brought Constance with me. We are at ----'s Hotel, where, by the way, -they've got a deuced bad cook: and having arrived last night, here I am -this morning." - -Ropsley bowed, as he always did, at the mention of Miss Beverley's name; -it was a queer sort of half-malicious little bow. Then looking her -father straight in the face with his cold bright eye, he said, -abruptly--"We've got into a devil of a mess, and I required to see you -immediately." - -Sir Harry started, and turned pale. It was not the first "devil of a -mess" by a good many that he had been in, but he felt he was getting too -old for the process, and was beginning to be tired of it. - -"Those bills, I suppose," he observed, nervously; "I expected as much." - -Ropsley nodded. "We could have met the two," said he, "and renewed the -third, had it not been for Green's rascality and Bolter's failure. -However, it is too late to talk of all that now; read that letter, Sir -Harry, and then tell me whether you do not think we are what Jonathan -calls 'slightly up a tree.'" - -He handed the Baronet a lawyer's letter as he spoke. The latter grew -paler and paler as he proceeded in its perusal; at its conclusion he -crushed it in his hand, and swore a great oath. - -"I can do nothing more," he said, in a hoarse voice; "I am dipped now -till I cannot get another farthing. The estate is so tied up with those -accursed marriage-settlements, that I must not cut a stick of timber at -my own door. If Bolter had paid we could have gone on. The villain! -what right had he to incur liabilities he could not meet, and put honest -men in the hole?" - -"What right, indeed?" answered the Guardsman, with a quiet smile, that -seemed to say he thought the argument might apply to other cases than -that of poor Bolter. "I am a man of no position, Sir Harry, and no -property; if I go I shall scarcely be missed. Now with you it is -different: your fall would make a noise in the world, and a positive -crash down in Somersetshire" (the Baronet winced). "However, we should -neither of us like to lose caste and character without an effort. Is -there _nothing_ can be done?" - -Sir Harry looked more and more perplexed. "Time," he muttered, "time; -if we could only get a little time. Can't you see these fellows, my dear -Ropsley, and talk to them a little, and show them their own interests? -I give you carte blanche to act for me. I must trust all to you. I -don't see my way." - -Ropsley pushed a wide red volume, something like an enlarged -betting-book, across the table. It was his regimental order-book, and -on its veracious columns was inscribed the appalling fact that "leave of -absence had been granted to Lieutenant and Captain Ropsley for an -indefinite period, on _urgent private affairs_." Sir Harry's hand -trembled as he returned it. He had been so accustomed to consult his -friend and confederate on all occasions, he had so completely acquired -the habit of deferring to his judgment and depending on his energy, that -he felt now completely at a loss as he thought of the difficulties he -should have to face unassisted and alone. It was with unconcealed -anxiety that he gasped out, "D---- it, Ropsley, you don't mean to leave -the ship just at the instant she gets aground!" - -"I have only secured my retreat, like a good general," answered Ropsley, -with a smile; "but never fear, Sir Harry, I have no intention of leaving -you in the lurch. Nevertheless, you are a man of more experience than -myself, you have been at this sort of thing for a good many years: -before we go any further, I should like to ask you once more, is there -no plan you can hit upon, have you nothing to propose?" - -"Nothing, on my honour," answered Sir Harry. "I am at my wits' end. -The money must be got, and paid too, for these fellows won't hear of a -compromise. I can't raise another farthing. You must have been cleared -out long ago. Ropsley, it strikes me we are both beaten out of the -field." - -"Not yet, Sir Harry," observed Ropsley, quietly; "I have a plan, if you -approve of it, and think it can be done." - -"By Jove! I always said you were the cleverest fellow in England," -burst out poor Sir Harry, eagerly grasping at the shadow of a chance. -"Let us have it, by all means. Approve of it! I'll approve of anything -that will only get us clear of this scrape. Come, out with it, Ropsley. -What is it?" - -"Sit down, Sir Harry," said Ropsley, for the Baronet was pacing -nervously up and down the room; "let us talk things over quietly, and in -a business-like manner. Ever since the day that I came over to Beverley -from Everdon--(by the way, that was the first good bottle of claret I -drank in Somersetshire)--ever since that day you and I have been -intimate friends. I have profited by your experience and great -knowledge of the world; and you, I think, have derived some advantage -from my energy and painstaking in the many matters with which we have -been concerned. I take all the credit of that affair about the mines in -Argyllshire, and it would be affectation on my part to pretend I did not -know I had been of great use to you in the business." - -"True enough, my dear fellow," answered the Baronet, looking somewhat -alarmed; "if I had not sold, as you advised, I should have been 'done' -that time, and I confess in all probability--" "ruined," the Baronet -was going to say, but he checked himself, and substituted the -expression, "much hampered now." - -"Well, Sir Harry," resumed his friend, "you and I are men of the world; -we all know the humbug fellows talk about friendship and all that. It -would be absurd for us to converse in such a strain, but yet a man has -his likes and dislikes. You are one of the few people I care for, and I -will do for you what I would not do for any other man on earth." - -Sir Harry stared. Though by no means a person of much natural -penetration, he had yet an acquired shrewdness, the effect of long -intercourse with his fellow-creatures, which bade him as a general rule -to mistrust a kindness; and he looked now as if he scented a _quid pro -quo_ in the generous expressions of his associate. - -Ropsley kept his cold grey eye fixed on him, and proceeded--"I have -already said, I am a 'man of straw,' and if I _go_ it matters little to -any one but myself. They will ask after me for two days in the -bow-window at White's, and there will be an end of it. I sell out, -which will not break my heart, as I hate soldiering; and I start quietly -for the Continent, where I go to the devil my own way, and at my own -pace. _Festina lente_; I am a reasonable man, and easily satisfied. -You will allow that this is not your case." - -Poor Sir Harry could only shuffle uneasily in his chair, and bow his -acquiescence. - -"Such being the state of affairs," proceeded Ropsley, and the hard grey -eye grew harder than ever, and seemed to screw itself like a gimlet into -the Baronet's working physiognomy; "such being the state of affairs, of -course any sacrifice I make is offered out of pure friendship, regard, -and esteem for yourself. Psha! it's nonsense talking like that! My -dear fellow, I like you; I always have liked you; the pleasantest hours -of my life have been spent in your house, and I'll see you out of this -scrape, if I ruin myself, stock, lock, and barrel, for it!" - -Sir Harry flushed crimson with delight and surprise; yet the latter -feeling predominated more than was pleasant, as he recollected the -old-established principle of himself and his clique, "Nothing for -nothing, and very little for a halfpenny." - -"Now, Sir Harry, I'll tell you what I will do. Five thousand will clear -us for the present. With five thousand we could pay off the necessary -debts, take up that bill of Sharon's, and get a fresh start. When they -saw we were not completely floored, we could always renew, and the turn -of the tide would in all probability set us afloat again. Now the -question is, _how_ to get at the five thousand? It will not come out of -Somersetshire, I _think_?" - -Sir Harry shook his head, and laughed a hard, bitter laugh. "Not five -thousand pence," he said, "if it was to save me from hanging to-morrow!" - -"And you really do not know which way to turn?" - -"No more than a child," answered Sir Harry. "If you fail me, I must -give in. If you can help me, and _yourself too_, out of this scrape, -why, I shall say what I always did--that you are the cleverest of -fellows and the best of friends." - -"I think it can be done," said the younger man, but he no longer looked -his friend in the face; and a faint blush, that faded almost on the -instant, passed over his features. He had one card left in his hand; he -had kept it to the last; he thought he ought to play it now. "I have -never told you, Sir Harry, that I have a few acres in Ireland, strictly -tied up in the hands of trustees, but with their consent I have power to -sell. It is all the property I have left in the world; it will raise -the sum we require, and--it shall follow the rest." - -This was true enough. Gambler, libertine, man of pleasure as he was, -Ropsley had always kept an eye to the main chance. It was part of his -system to know all sorts of people, and to be concerned in a small way -with several speculative and money-making schemes. After the passing of -the Irish Encumbered Estates Bill, it so happened that a fortunate -investment at Newmarket had placed a few loose thousands to the credit -side of our Guardsman's account at Cox and Co.'s. He heard casually of -a capital investment for the same, within a day's journey of Dublin, as -he was dining with a party of stock-jobbing friends in the City. Six -hours afterwards Ropsley was in the train, and in less than six weeks -had become the proprietor of sundry remunerative Irish acres, the same -which he was now prepared unhesitatingly to sacrifice in the cause of -gratitude, which with this philosopher, more than most men, might be -fairly termed "a lively sense of benefits to come." - -"Yes, it shall follow the rest," he repeated, stirring the fire -vigorously, and now looking studiously _away_ from the man he was -addressing,--"Sir Harry, you are a man of the world--you know me -thoroughly, we cannot humbug each other. Although I would do much for -your sake, you cannot think that a fellow sacrifices his last farthing -simply because he and his confederate have made a mistake in their -calculations. No, Sir Harry, your honour is dear to me as my own--nay, -dearer, for I now wish to express a hope that we may become more nearly -connected than we have ever been before, and that the ties of -relationship may give me a right, as those of friendship have already -made it a pleasure, to assist you to the best of my abilities." - -Sir Harry opened his mouth and pushed his chair back from the fire. -Hampered, distressed, ruined as he was, it _did_ seem a strong measure -thus to sell Constance Beverley, so to speak, for "a mess of pottage"; -and the bare idea of such a contract for the moment took away the -Baronet's breath. Not that the notion was by any means a strange one to -his mind; for the last two or three years, during which he had -associated so much with the Guardsman, and had so many opportunities of -appreciating his talents, shrewdness, and attractive qualities, the -latter had been gradually gaining a complete ascendancy over his mind -and character. Sir Harry was like a child in leading-strings in the -hands of his confederate; and it had often occurred to him that it would -be very pleasant, as as well as advantageous, always to have this -mainstay on which to rely--this "ready-reckoner," and man of -inexhaustible resources, to consult on every emergency. Vague ideas had -sometimes crossed the Baronet's brain, that it was just possible his -daughter might be brought to _like_ well enough to marry (for _loving_ -was not a word in her father's vocabulary) an agreeable man, into whose -society she was constantly thrown; and then, as Constance was an -heiress, and the Baronet himself would be relieved from divers pecuniary -embarrassments on her marriage, by the terms of a certain settlement -with which we have nothing to do--why, it would be a delightful -arrangement for all parties, and Ropsley could come and live at -Beverley, and all be happy together. - -Such were the ideas that vaguely floated across the Baronet's mind in -those moments of reflection of which he allowed himself so few; but he -was a father, and a kind one, with all his faults; and it had never yet -entered his head either to force his daughter's inclinations, or even to -encourage with his own influence any suitor who was not agreeable to the -young lady. He was fond of Constance, in his own way--fonder than of -anything in the world, save his own comfort, and a very stirring and -closely-contested race at Newmarket. So he looked, as indeed he felt, -somewhat taken aback by Ropsley's proposal, which his own instinct as a -gentleman told him was peculiarly ill-timed. - -He laughed nervously, and thanked his friend for his kindness. - -"With regard to--Miss Beverley," he stammered; "why--you know, my dear -Ropsley,--business is business, and pleasure is pleasure. I--I--had no -wish,--at least I had not made up my mind--or rather, I had no absolute -intention that my daughter should settle so early in life. You are -aware she is an heiress--a very great heiress" (Ropsley was indeed, or -they would not have been at this point of discussion now), "and she -might look to making a great match; in fact, Constance Beverley might -marry anybody. Still, I never would thwart her inclinations; and if you -think, my dear fellow, you can make yourself agreeable to her, why, I -should make no objections, as you know there is no man that I should -individually like better for a son-in-law than yourself." - -Ropsley rose, shook his new papa cordially by the hand, rang for -luncheon, and rather to the Baronet's discomfiture, seemed to look upon -it at once as a settled thing. - -"My business will not take long," said he, helping his guest to a large -glassful of sherry. "You do not go abroad for another week; I can make -all my arrangements, _our_ arrangements, I should say, by that time. Why -should we not travel together? My servant is the best courier in -Europe; you will have no trouble whatever, only leave it all to me." - -Sir Harry hated trouble. Sir Harry liked the Continent. The scheme was -exactly suited to his tastes and habits; so it was settled they should -all start at once--a family party. - -And where is the young lady all this time? the prime origin of so much -scheming, the motive power of all this mechanism? In the front -drawing-room of the gloomy hotel she sits over the fire, buried deep in -thought--to judge by her saddened countenance--not of the most cheering -description. Above the fire-place hangs a large engraving of Landseer's -famous Newfoundland dog, that "Member of the Humane Society" whom he has -immortalised with his pencil. The lady sighs as she gazes on the broad, -honest forehead, the truthful, intelligent face, the majestic attitude -denoting strength in repose. Either the light is very bad in this room, -or the glass over that engraving is dim and blurred, and the dog seems -crouching in a mist, or are Constance Beverley's dark eyes dimmed with -tears? - - - - - CHAPTER XXVI - - "SURVEILLANCE" - - -I did not question my friend as to his success in the _chasse_. Victor -was evidently ill at ease, and after a few commonplace remarks returned -to his apartments, from whence he did not reappear till dinner-time. -Valèrie, too, was nowhere to be found, and I spent the afternoon in the -_salon_ with a strange visitor, who was announced by the groom of the -chambers as Monsieur Stein, and whose business at Edeldorf I confess I -was at a loss to discover. - -The time passed agreeably enough. I was indisposed for reflection, a -process which, under existing circumstances, could only have involved me -in a labyrinth of perplexities; and my new acquaintance was possessed of -a fund of information and small talk which must have been acquired by -much intercourse with the world. - -He seemed perfectly familiar with English habits and English politics, -professing great admiration for the one and interest in the other. He -had _served_ too, he said, although I did not make out exactly in what -grade; and altogether he was evidently a man of varied experience and -considerable acquirements. - -Silent as I naturally am, and especially reserved with strangers, there -was something about my new acquaintance that led me to be communicative -in spite of myself. His whole address and exterior were so thoroughly -_confidential_, his manner so easy and unaffected; there was so much -good-humour and _bonhommie_ in his quiet smile and subdued enunciation, -that I found myself almost unconsciously detailing events and imparting -information with a facility of which I should have once thought I was -incapable. Monsieur Stein listened, and bowed, and smiled, and put in a -slight query here, or hazarded an observation there, which proved that -he too was well acquainted with the topics on which I was enlarging; nor -did he fail to compliment me on the lucid manner in which he was good -enough to say I had explained to him the whole system of Turkish -politics, and the relations of that tottering country with our own. As -we went to make our toilets before dinner, I could not help asking my -friend, the groom of the chambers, whose arm assisted me upstairs (ah! -it was Valèrie's the night before!), "who he was, this Monsieur Stein, -who had arrived so unexpectedly, and had not yet seen the Count?" The -man's face assumed a comical expression of mingled terror and disgust as -he professed an utter ignorance of the guest; but when I added an -inquiry as to whether he was a friend of Count Victor, his disclaimer -was far more vigorous than the occasion seemed to demand. "Well," -thought I, "I shall know all about it from Valèrie this evening;" and -proceeded with my toilet--shall I confess it?--with more pains than I -had ever taken in my life before. - -But when we met at dinner a chill seemed to have fallen on our party, -hitherto so merry and vivacious. Victor, though polite and courteous as -ever, was reserved, absent, and out of spirits. Valèrie turned red and -white by turns, answered only by monosyllables, and never once allowed -her eyes to wander in my direction. I, too, felt sad and preoccupied. -My coming departure seemed to cast a damp over my spirits; and yet when -I thought of Valèrie's unconcealed regret, and frank avowal of interest -in my future, my heart leapt with a strange, startling thrill, half of -pleasure, half of pain. Monsieur Stein, however, appeared to suffer -from none of these uncomfortable sensations. He ate, he drank, he -talked, he made the agreeable, and amidst it all he seemed to note with -a lynx-eye the gorgeous furniture, the glittering plate, the host of -servants attired in their gaudy hussar uniforms, the choice wine, and -excellent cookery, for which the _ménage_ of Edeldorf had always been -remarkable. In the brilliant light that shed its glare over the -dining-table I was able to examine my new acquaintance more minutely -than I had previously done before we went to dress. He seemed to me, -without exception, the _least_ remarkable man I had ever met. He was -neither young nor old, neither dark nor fair, neither short nor tall, -stout nor thin; his dress, that of a civilian, was plain and unstudied -in the extreme; his demeanour, quiet and unaffected, was in admirable -keeping with his whole exterior. There was nothing military about the -man save a closely-clipped and carefully-trained moustache; but this -warlike appendage was again contradicted by a slight stoop, and a -somewhat hesitating gait, by no means that of a soldier. His eye, too, -of a cold, dead grey, with light eyelashes, was soft and sleepy. Once I -fancied I caught a lightning glance directed at Valèrie; but the orbs -were so quickly veiled by their drooping lids that I could not be -satisfied it was more than a trick of my own imagination. Altogether M. -Stein was a man that in England would have been described emphatically -as "very gentlemanlike," for want of any more characteristic -qualifications; in France he would have been passed over as an -undemonstrative cipher; my friends the Turks would have conferred a -silent approval on his quiet, unassuming demeanour. Why was it that in -Hungary his presence should act as what we call at home "a wet blanket"? - -Dinner progressed slowly. Monsieur Stein addressed himself chiefly to -Count de Rohan; and I could not help remarking that the latter's answers -to his guest were marked by a caution and reserve totally foreign to his -usual straightforward manner and off-hand way of saying whatever came -uppermost. His air gave me the idea of a man who was determined not to -be _pumped_. He drank less wine also than usual; and altogether was -certainly not at his ease. Valèrie, too, whenever she raised her eyes -from the tablecloth, glanced uneasily towards Monsieur Stein; and when I -made a casual remark to her, answered so absently and stiffly as to -cause me for my part to feel uncomfortable and _de trop_ in this small -ill-organised party. It was a relief to all of us when coffee made its -appearance, and the newly-arrived guest, giving his hand to Valèrie with -a courtly bow, led her back to the drawing-room, whilst I followed with -Victor, and took the opportunity of whispering to my old friend, in -English-- - -"Who is this gentleman, Victor, that seems to know a little of -everything and everybody, and whose thirst for information seems so -unquenchable?" - -"Hush!" replied Victor, with an uneasy look at the couple in front of -us; "he speaks English as well as you do, though I dare say he told you -not. My dear Vere, for Heaven's sake, to-night sit still and hold your -tongue!" - -At this instant Valèrie turned round, and addressed some trifling -observation to her brother, but with a warning expression of countenance -that seemed to tell him he had been overheard. The next moment we were -seated round her work-table, chatting as gaily upon the merits of her -embroidery as though we were all the most intimate friends in the world. -Certainly ladies' work promotes conversation of the most harmless and -least suspicious description; and I think it would indeed have been -difficult to affix a definite meaning to the remarks made by any one of -us on the intricacies of Countess Valèrie's stitching, or the skill -displayed by that lady in her graceful and feminine employment. - -The evening dragged on. Monsieur Stein conversed freely on the state of -the country, the condition of the peasantry, the plans of the -Government, and a projected railroad, for the construction of which he -did not seem to think it possible the Austrian exchequer would ever be -able to pay. Victor listened, and scarcely spoke; Valèrie seemed -interested in the railway, and determined to pursue that subject as long -as possible; whilst I sat, out of spirits, and, truth to tell, out of -humour, a silent observer of all three. I was deprived of my habitual -occupations, and missed the care and interest to which I was accustomed -as an invalid. Valèrie did not make my tea for me as usual, nor explain -to me, for the hundredth time, the cunning splendour of her embroidery, -nor ask for my assistance in the thousand trifling ways with which a -woman makes you fancy you are essential to her comfort; and I was -childish enough to feel sad, if not a little sulky, in consequence. At -last I lost patience, and throwing down abruptly the paper which I had -been reading, I asked Countess Valèrie to "give us a little music," -adding in perfect innocence, "Do play that beautiful march out of 'The -Honijàdy'--it is so inspiriting and so thoroughly national!" - -If a shell had fallen into the room, and commenced its whizzing -operations under Valèrie's work-table, it could not have created greater -consternation than did my very natural request. The Countess turned -deadly pale, and her hand trembled so that she could scarcely hold her -needle. Victor rose from his chair with a tremendous oath, and walking -off to the fire-place (for he was sufficiently an Englishman to prefer a -grate to a stove), commenced stirring an already huge fire with much -unnecessary energy, talking the whole time as if to drown my unlucky -observation. Monsieur Stein flashed one of his lightning glances--there -was no mistaking it this time--upon the whole of us, and then relapsed -into his previous composure; whilst I felt that I had committed some -unpardonable _gaucherie_, but could not, for the life of me, discover -how or why. - -It was hopeless that evening to make any more attempts at conversation. -Even the guest seemed to think he had exerted himself sufficiently, and -at an earlier hour than usual we retired for the night. When I came -down next morning he was gone. - -Victor did not appear at breakfast, and Valèrie's excuses for her -brother were delivered with a degree of restraint and formality which -made me feel very uncomfortable. - -"Victor was busy," she said, "with the steward and the land-agent. He -had a great deal to do; he would not be at leisure for hours, but he -would see me before he started on his journey." - -"Journey!" said I; "what journey does he mean to take? and what is all -this mystery and confusion? Pardon me, Countess Valèrie, I am a -straightforward man, Victor is my oldest friend, and I do claim to be in -the secret, if I can be of any assistance or comfort to you in -anything." - -She looked at me once more with the frank, confiding look that reminded -me so of _another_; and putting her hand in mine, she said-- - -"I know we can trust you; I know _I_ can trust you. Victor is -_compromised_; he must go to Vienna to clear himself. He has yesterday -received a hint that amounts indeed to an order. We are not even free -to live on our own lands," she added bitterly, and with the old gleam of -defiance flashing over her features; "the proudest noble in Hungary is -but a serf after all." - -"And Monsieur Stein?" I asked, for I was beginning to penetrate the -mystery. - -"Is an agent of police," she replied, "and one of the cleverest in the -Emperor's service. Did you remark how _civil_ we were forced to be to -him? Did you not notice Victor's constrained and uncomfortable manner? -Whilst he remained, that man was our master--that low-born spy our -master! This is what we have come to. His mission was understood -plainly enough by both of us. He came with a hint from the Emperor that -we were very remiss in our attendance at Court; that his Imperial -Majesty valued our loyalty too much to doubt its sincerity; and that it -would be better, _all things considered_, if we were to spend the winter -at Vienna. Also, I doubt not, information was required as to what our -English friend was about; and when it is reported--as reported it will -be--that his musical taste leads him to admire 'the march in the -Honijàdy,' why we shall probably be put under 'surveillance' for six -months, and be obliged to reside in the capital for a year or two, till -we have got thoroughly Austrianised, when we shall return here, feeling -our degradation more bitterly than ever." - -"And why may I not consult my own taste in music?" I inquired; "or what -is there so deadly in that beautiful march which you play with such -brilliancy and spirit?" - -Valèrie laughed. - -"Do you not know," said she, "that the Honijàdys were nearly connected -with our ancestors--that the De Rohans, originally Norman, only became -Hungarian through their alliance with that princely family--a race who -were never found wanting when it was necessary to assert the -independence of their country? It was a Honijàdy that rolled the Turks -back from the very gates of Vienna. It was a Honijàdy that first -resisted the oppression of Austrian despotism. It was a Honijàdy that -shed the last drop of noble blood spilt in our late struggle for -independence. The finest of our operas is founded on the history of -this devoted family, and the Honijàdy march is the very gathering tune -of all who hate the iron yoke under which we groan. Only look at the -faces of a Hungarian audience as they listen to its forbidden tones--for -it must now only be played in secret--and you comprehend why, of all the -airs that ever were composed, the last you should have asked for in the -presence of Monsieur Stein was the march in 'The Honijàdy.'" - -"I do truly regret my indiscretion," was my reply; "but if Victor is -compelled to go to Vienna, I shall certainly accompany him. It is not -my practice to abandon a friend, and _such_ a friend, in his distress. -Though I can be of little use, my presence may be some comfort and -amusement to him; besides, the very fact of my proceeding straight into -the lion's mouth will show that I have not been staying here with any -ulterior views." - -"You are, indeed, true as steel," replied Valèrie, with a frank, honest -smile, that went straight to my heart. "We will all start together this -very afternoon; and I am glad--at least it is far better--that you -should not be parted from your nurse till you are quite strong again. -Your presence will be a great comfort to my brother, who is----" -Valèrie hesitated, blushed up to her forehead, and added, abruptly, "Mr. -Egerton, have you not remarked any difference in Victor lately?" - -I replied, that "I thought his spirits were less mercurial than -formerly, but that probably he had the anticipation of yesterday's -domiciliary visit hanging over him, which would at once account for any -amount of discontent and depression." - -"No, it is not that," answered Valèrie, with increasing embarrassment. -"It is worse even than that. My poor Victor! I know him so well--I -love him so much! and he is breaking his noble heart for one who is -totally unworthy of him. If there is one being on earth that I hate and -despise more than another, it is a _coquette_," added the girl, with -flashing eyes; "a woman who is so wanting in womanly pride as to lay -herself out for admiration--so false to her own nature as to despise it -when it is won." - -"All women like admiration," I ventured to interpose very humbly, for it -struck me that the young Countess herself was in this respect no -abnormal variety of her species; "and I conclude that in this, as in -everything else, difficulty enhances the pleasure of success." - -She darted a reproachful look at me from under her dark eyelashes, but -she had her say out notwithstanding. - -"No woman," she exclaimed, "has a right any more than a man, to trifle -with the affections of another. Why should any one human being, for the -sake of an hour's amusement, or the gratification of a mere passing -vanity, inflict on another the greatest pain which mortal heart can -suffer? You would be thought a monster so to torture the body; and are -not the pangs of the soul infinitely worse to bear? No! I repeat it, -she has deceived my brother with her silver accents and her false, false -smiles; she is torturing the noblest, truest, kindest heart that ever -brave man bore, and I hate her for it with a deadly, quenchless hatred!" - -I never found Valèrie so charming as when she thus played the termagant. -There was something so _piquante_ in her wild, reckless manner on these -occasions--in the flash of her bright eyes, the play of her chiselled -features, and the attitude of her lithe, graceful figure, when she said -she _hated_, that I could have found it in my heart to make her say she -hated me rather than not hear the well-known word. I replied -accordingly, rather mischievously I own-- - -"Do you not think, Valèrie, you are throwing away a great deal of -indignation unnecessarily? Men are not so sensitive as you seem to -think. We do not break our hearts very readily, I assure you; and even -when we do, we mend them again nearly as good as new. Besides, the rest -of you take compassion on us when we are ill-treated by one. They -console us, and we accept their consolation. If the rose is not in -bloom, what shall prevent us from gathering the violet? Decidedly, -Countess Valèrie, we are more philosophers than you." - -"You do not know Victor, if you say so," she burst forth. "You do not -think as you speak. You are a dishonest reasoner, and you try to impose -upon _me_! I tell you, _you_ are the last man in the world to hold such -opinions. You are wrong, and you know you are wrong, and you only speak -thus to provoke me. I judge of others by myself. I believe that all of -us are more or less alike, and I know that _I_ could never forgive such -an injury. What! to be led on day by day, to feel if not to confess a -preference, to find it bit by bit eating into one's being, till at -length one belongs no longer to oneself, but knows one's whole existence -to be wrapped up in another, and then at the last moment to discover -that one has been deceived! that one has been giving gold for silver! -that the world is empty, and the heart dead for ever! I know what I -should do." - -"What _would_ you do?" I asked, half amused and half alarmed at her -excited gestures. - -"Take a De Rohan's revenge, if I broke my heart for it the next -instant," she replied: and then, as if ashamed of her enthusiasm, and -the passion into which she had very unnecessarily put herself, rushed -from the room. - -"What a dangerous lady to have anything to do with," I remarked to Bold, -as he rose from the hearthrug, with a stretch and a yawn. "Well, old -dog, so you and I are bound for Vienna this afternoon; I wonder what -will come of it all?" - -Yet there was a certain pleasant excitement about my position, too. It -was evident that Valèrie took more than a common interest in her -brother's friend. Her temper had become very variable of late; and I -had remarked that although, until the scene in the garden, she had never -shunned my society, she had often appeared provoked at any expression of -opinion which I chanced to hazard contrary to her own. She had also of -late been constantly absent, _distraite_, and preoccupied, sometimes -causelessly satirical, bitter, and even rude, in her remarks. What could -it all mean? was I playing with edged tools? It might be so. Never -mind, never mind, Bold; anything, _anything_ for excitement and -forgetfulness of the days gone by. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVII - - GHOSTS OF THE PAST - - -Every one has heard of the gentleman who went to spend a fortnight at -Vienna in the prime of his youth, and died there at a ripe old age, -having never afterwards been beyond the walls of the town. Though the -climate is allowed to be detestable, the heat of summer being aggravated -by a paucity of shade and a superabundance of dust, whilst the rigorous -cold of winter is enhanced by the absence of fire-places and the -scarcity of fuel; though the streets are narrow and the carriages -numerous, the hotels always full, and the shops very dear; though the -police is strict and officious to a degree, and its regulations -tyrannical in the extreme; though every house, private as well as -public, must be closed at ten o'clock, and a ball-giver or lady who -"receives" must have a special permission from the Government,--yet, -with all these drawbacks, no city in the world, not even lively Paris -itself, seems so popular with pleasure-seekers as Vienna. There is a -gaiety in the very air of the town: a smiling, prosperous good-humour -visible on the countenances of its inhabitants, a picturesque beauty in -the houses, a splendid comfort in the shops, and a taste and -magnificence in the public buildings, which form a most attractive _tout -ensemble_. - -Then you lead a pleasant, cheerful, do-nothing sort of life. You have -your coffee in bed, where you can also read a novel in perfect comfort, -for German beds have no curtains to intercept the morning light, or make -a bonfire of the nocturnal student. You perform an elaborate toilet -(are not Vienna gloves the only good fits in the world?), and you -breakfast about noon in the _salon_ of some luxurious hotel, where you -may sit peradventure between an Austrian Field-Marshal, decorated with a -dozen or so of orders, and a Polish beauty, who counts captives by the -hundred, and breaks hearts by the score. Neither will think it -necessary to avoid your neighbourhood as if you had confluent small-pox, -and your eye as if you were a basilisk, simply because you have not had -the advantage of their previous acquaintance. On the contrary, should -the courtesies of the table or any chance occurrence lead you to hazard -a remark, you will find the warrior mild and benevolent, the beauty -frank and unaffected. Even should you wrap yourself up in your truly -British reserve, they will salute you when they depart; and people may -say what they will about the humbug and insincerity of mere politeness, -but there can be no doubt that such graceful amenities help to oil the -wheels of life. Then if you like to walk, have you not the Prater, with -its fine old trees and magnificent red deer, and its endless range of -woodland scenery, reminding you of your own Windsor forest at home; if -you wish to drive, there is much beautiful country in the immediate -vicinity of the town; or would you prefer a quiet chat in the friendly -intimacy of a morning visit, the Viennese ladies are the most -conversational and the most hospitable in the world. Then you dine at -half-past five, because the opera begins at seven, and with such a band -who would miss the overture? Again, you enter a brilliant, well-lighted -apartment, gay with well-dressed women and Austrian officers in their -handsome uniforms, all full of politeness, _bonhommie_, and real -kindness towards a stranger. Perhaps you occupy the next table to -Meyerbeer, and you are more resolved than ever not to be too late. At -seven you enjoy the harmony of the blessed, at a moderate outlay that -would hardly pay for your entrance half-price to a farce in a London -theatre, and at ten o'clock your day is over, and you may seek your -couch. - -I confess I liked Vienna very much. My intimacy with Victor gave me at -once an introduction into society, and my old acquaintance with the -German language made me feel thoroughly at home amongst these frank and -warm-hearted people. It has always appeared to me that there is more -homely kindliness, more _heart_, and less straining after effect in -German society than in any other with which I am acquainted. People are -less artificial in Vienna than in Paris or in London, better satisfied -to be taken for what they really are, and not what they wish to be, more -tolerant of strangers, and less occupied about themselves. - -I spent my days very happily. Victor had recovered his spirits, those -constitutional good spirits that in the young it requires so much -suffering to damp, that once lost never return again. Valèrie was -charming as ever, it may be a little more reserved than formerly, but -all the more kind and considerate on that account; then when I wearied -of society and longed for solitude and the indulgence of my own -reflections, could I not pace those glorious galleries of ancient art, -and feast my eyes upon the masterpieces of Rubens or Franceschini, in -the Hotel Liechtenstein and the Belvedere? My father's blood ran in my -veins, and although I had always lacked execution to become a painter, -keenly and dearly could I appreciate the excellencies of the divine art. -Ah! those Rubenses, I can see them now! the glorious athletic -proportions of the men, heroes and champions every one; the soft, -sensuous beauty of the women,--none of your angels, or goddesses, or -idealities, but, better still, warm, breathing, loving, palpable women, -the energy of action, the majesty of repose, the drawing, the colouring, -but above all the honest manly sentiment that pervades every picture. -The direct intention so truthfully carried out to bid the human form and -the human face express the passions and the feelings of the human heart. -I could look at them for hours. - -Valèrie used to laugh at me for what she called my new passion--my -devotion to art; the goddess whom I had so neglected in my childhood, -when with my father's assistance I might have wooed and won from her -some scraps of favour and encouragement. One morning I prevailed on -Victor and his sister to accompany me to the Hotel Liechtenstein, there -to inspect for the hundredth time what the Countess termed my "last and -fatal attachment," a Venus and Adonis of Franceschini, before which I -could have spent many a long day, quenching the thirst of the eye. It -was in my opinion the _chef-d'oeuvre_ of the master; and yet, taking it -as a whole, there was no doubt it was far from a faultlessly-painted -picture. The Adonis appeared to me stiffly and unskilfully drawn, as he -lay stretched in slumber, with his leash of hounds, undisturbed by the -nymphs peering at him from behind a tree, or the fat golden-haired -Cupids playing on the turf at his feet. All this part of the picture I -fancied cold and hard; but it was the Venus herself that seemed to me -the impersonation of womanly beauty and womanly love. Emerging from a -cloud, with her blue draperies defining the rounded symmetry of her -form, and leaving one exquisite foot bare, she is gazing on the -prostrate hunter with an expression of unspeakable tenderness and -self-abandonment, such as comes but once in a lifetime over woman's -face. One drooping hand carelessly lets an arrow slip through its -fingers, the other fondling a rosy Cupid on her knee, presses his cheek -against her own, as though the love overflowing at her heart must needs -find relief in the caresses of her child. - -"It is my favourite picture of all I ever saw, except one," I remarked -to my two companions as we stopped to examine its merits; I to point out -its beauties, they maliciously to enumerate its defects. - -"And that other?" asked Valèrie, with her quick, sharp glance. - -"Is one you never saw," was my reply, as I thought of the "Dido" in the -old dining-room at Beverley. "It is an Italian painting with many -faults, and probably you would not admire it as much as I do." - -Valèrie was not listening; her attention was fixed on a party of -strangers at the other end of the room. "_Tenez, ce sont des Anglais_," -said she, with that intuitive perception of an islander which seems born -in all continental nations. I knew it before she spoke. The party -stopped and turned round--two gentlemen and a lady. I only saw _her_; -of all the faces, animate and inanimate, that looked downward with -smiles, or upward with admiration, in that crowded gallery, there was -but one to me, and that one, was Constance Beverley's. - -I have a confused recollection of much hand-shaking and -"How-do-you-do's?" and many expressions of wonder at our meeting -_there_, of all places in the world, which did not strike me as so -_very_ extraordinary after all. And Valèrie was _so_ enchanted to make -Miss Beverley's acquaintance; she had heard so much of her from Victor, -and it was so delightful they should all be together in Vienna just at -this gay time; and was as affectionate and demonstrative as woman always -is with her sister; and at the same time scanned her with a -comprehensive glance, which seemed to take in at once the charms of mind -and body, the graces of nature and art, that constituted the weapons of -her competitor. For women are always more or less rivals; and with all -her keenness of affections and natural softness of disposition, there is -an unerring instinct implanted in the breast of every one of the gentler -sex, which teaches her that her normal state is one of warfare with her -kind--that "her hand is against every woman, and every woman's hand -against her." - -I dared not look in Miss Beverley's face as I shook her hand; I fancied -her voice was _harder_ than it used to be. I was sure her manner to _me_ -was as cold as the merest forms of politeness would admit. She took -Victor's arm, however, with an air of _empressement_ very foreign to the -reserve which I remembered was so distinguishing a characteristic in her -demeanour. I heard her laughing at his remarks, and recalling to him -scenes in London and elsewhere, which seemed to afford great amusement -to themselves alone. Even Ropsley looked graver than usual, but masked -his astonishment, or whatever it was, under a great show of civility to -Valèrie, who received his attentions, as she did those of every -stranger, with a degree of pleasure which it was not in her nature to -conceal. Sir Harry fell to my share, and I have a vague recollection of -his being more than ever patronising and paternal, and full of good -advice and good wishes; but the treasures of his wisdom and his little -worldly sarcasms were wasted on a sadly heedless ear. - -I put him into his carriage, where _she_ was already seated. I ventured -on one stolen look at the face that had been in my dreams, sleeping and -waking, for many a long day. It was pale and sad; but there was a hard, -fixed expression that I did not recognise, and she never allowed her -eyes to meet mine. - -How cold the snowy streets looked; and the dull grey sky, as we walked -home to our hotel--Victor and Ropsley on either side of Valèrie, whilst -I followed, soberly and silently, in the rear. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVIII - - LA DAME AUX CAMELLIAS - - -"My dear, you _must_ go to this ball," said Sir Harry to his daughter, -as they sat over their morning chocolate in a spacious room with a small -glazed stove, very handsome, very luxurious, and _very cold_. "You have -seen everything else here; you have been a good deal in society. I have -taken you everywhere, although you know how 'going out' bores me; and -now you refuse to go to the best thing of the year. My dear, you -_must_!" - -"But a masked ball, papa," urged Constance. "I never went to one in my -life; indeed, if you please, I had rather not." - -"Nonsense, child, everybody goes; there's your friend Countess Valèrie -wild about it, and Victor, and even sober Vere Egerton, but of course -_he_ goes in attendance on the young Countess--besides, Ropsley wishes -it." - -Constance flushed crimson, then grew white, and bit her lip. "Captain -Ropsley's wishes have nothing to do with me, papa," said she, with more -than her usual stateliness; "I do not see what right he has to express a -wish at all." - -Sir Harry rose from his chair; he was getting very feeble in his limbs, -though he stoutly repudiated the notion that he grew a day older in -strength and spirits. He walked twice across the room, went to his -daughter's chair, and took her hand in his. She knew what was coming, -and trembled all over. - -"My dear child," said he, with a shaky attempt at calmness, and a -nervous quivering of his under lip--for loving, obedient, devoted as she -was; Sir Harry stood in awe of his daughter--"you remind me I wish to -speak to you on the subject of Captain Ropsley, and his intimacy with -ourselves. Constance, has it never occurred to you what all this must -eventually lead to?" - -She looked up at him with her clear, shining eyes, and replied-- - -"It has, papa, and I quite dread the end of it." - -"You know, dear, how I have encouraged him," continued her father, -without noticing the unpropitious remark; "you can guess my wishes -without my speaking more plainly. He is an excellent fellow--clever, -popular, agreeable, and good-looking. There can be no objection, of -course, on _your_ side. I think your old father has not done so badly -for you after all--eh, Constance?" and Sir Harry made a feeble attempt -at a laugh, which stopped, and, as it were, "went out" all of a sudden. - -She looked him full in the face. Truth shone brightly in the depths of -those clear eyes. - -"Papa," said she, slowly and steadily, "do you really mean you wish me -to--to marry Captain Ropsley?" - -"You ladies jump at conclusions very fast," answered the Baronet, still -striving, shakingly, to be jocose. "_Rem acu tetigisti_. Ha, ha! I -have not forgotten my Latin, or that I was young once, my dear. You -have run your needle into the very heart of the matter, you little -witch! That is indeed my earnest wish and intention." - -He changed at once into a tone of majestic and uncompromising decision, -but he only looked at her askance, and once more left his place to amble -up and down the room. She never took her eye off his face. - -"And suppose I should tell you, papa, that I cannot comply with your -wish; that I hate and loathe the very sight of the man whom you would -make my husband; that I fear and distrust his intimacy with you more -than anything in the world; that I implore you, papa, dear papa, to give -up this dreadful idea; that for this once, and once only, you would -listen to me, be guided by me, and, at any sacrifice, that you would -break immediately and for ever with that bad, reckless, unprincipled -man--what should you say then?" - -She looked at him for an instant with a vague sort of half-hope in her -truthful, shining eyes; but it was more resignation than disappointment -that clouded her face over immediately afterwards. - -"Say, my dear," answered the Baronet, gaily, but his teeth were set -tight as he spoke; "why I should say that my girl was a romantic little -fool, instead of one of the cleverest women of my acquaintance; or, more -likely still, I should say she was joking, in order to try her father's -patience and indulgence to the utmost. Listen to me, Constance. I have -reasons of my own for wishing to see you married--of course I mean well -married, and safely settled in life--never mind what they are; it may be -that I am getting old, and feel that I have not much time to lose. -Well, I have promised you to Ropsley--of course with your own consent. -In these days we don't lock up our refractory children, or use force -when persuasion alone is necessary. Heaven forbid!" Sir Harry said it -with an expression of countenance somewhat contradictory of his -language. "But I feel sure I need only point out to you what my wishes -are to have your sincere co-operation. You behaved so well once before, -you will behave well this time. Constance, I am not used to entreat; -you cannot surely refuse me now?" - -She burst into tears - -"Oh, papa," she said, "anything--anything but this." - -He thought to try the old sarcastic mood that had done him good service -with many a woman before. - -"What, we are premature, are we, Miss Beverley? We cannot forget old -days and childish absurdities. We must, of course, be more sensitive -than our boyish adorer. Psha! my dear, it's perfectly absurd; why, you -can see with your own eyes that Vere Egerton is hopelessly entangled -with that bold Hungarian girl, and I can tell you, to my certain -knowledge, that he is to marry her forthwith. What she can see in his -ugly face is more than I can make out; but this I suppose is prejudice -on my part. Good Heaven! Constance, are you really afraid of seeing -them together to-night? You! _my_ daughter! the proud Miss Beverley?" - -The old reprobate knew how to manage a woman still. He had served a long -apprenticeship to the trade, and paid pretty dearly for his lessons in -his time. - -She did not cry now. - -"Papa, I will go to the ball," was all she said; and Sir Harry thought -it wiser to push matters no further for the present. - -Our little party had been established in Vienna for several weeks when -the above-mentioned conversation took place; and the De Rohans were -living on terms of close intimacy with the Beverleys. Ropsley made no -secret of his engagement to Constance, and bestowed all the attentions -of a future husband on the unwilling girl with a tact which made escape -impossible. Victor took his place as an old friend by her side, and she -seemed to find the more pleasure in his society that it relieved her -from the Guardsman's sarcastic though amusing conversation, and, as I -once overheard her remark, with a deep sigh, "reminded her of old -times." Valèrie and I were, as usual, inseparable; but there was -something of late in the manner of the young Countess which grated on my -feelings. She was gay, volatile, demonstrative as ever; but I missed -those fits of abstraction, that restless, preoccupied air which seems so -charming when we fancy we can guess the cause; and altogether I never -was so much in danger of falling in love with Valèrie as now, when, -piqued, hopeless, and miserable, I felt I was uncared for by every one -on earth--even by her. I was one too many in the party. Sir Harry -seemed worldly, sharp, and in good spirits, as usual. Ropsley scheming, -composed, self-contained, and successful. Victor lively, careless, and -like his former self again. Constance haughty and reserved, habitually -silent, and preserving an exterior of icy calmness. Valèrie sparkling, -triumphant, and _coquette_ as possible. Only Bold and I were out of -spirits; the old dog resenting with truly British energy the indignity -of an enforced muzzle, without which no animal of his species was -allowed to go at large in the streets of Vienna; whilst his master was -wearied and ill at ease, tired of an aimless, hopeless life, and longing -for the excitement of action, or the apathy of repose. - -Such were the ingredients of the party that dined together at that -well-known hotel rejoicing in the appellation of "Munsch," on the day of -the masked ball, to which all Vienna meant to go, to be mystified for -pleasure, and have its secrets told and its weaknesses published for -amusement. - -Many were the glances of admiration cast at our table, and many, I doubt -not, were the comparisons made between the stately beauty of the -Englishwoman and the brilliant charms of her Hungarian friend. I sat -next to Valèrie, and opposite Miss Beverley--the latter scarcely ever -spoke to me now, and, save a formal greeting when we met and parted, -seemed completely to ignore my existence; but she tolerated Bold, and -the dog lay curled up under the table at her feet, keeping watch and -ward over her--faithful Bold!--as he used to do long, long ago. Ropsley -held forth upon the political state of Europe; and although Victor and -Sir Harry expressed loudly their admiration of his sentiments, and the -lucid manner in which he expressed them, I have yet reason to believe -that, as he spoke in English, a very garbled and eccentric translation -of his remarks reached the imperial and kingly bureau of police. -Constance and Valèrie seemed to have some secret understanding which -called forth a smile even on the pale face of the former, whilst the -latter was exuberant in mirth and spirits, and was ardently anticipating -the pleasures of the ball. I was roused from my dreamy state of -abstraction by her lively voice. - -"Vere," she exclaimed, with a sly glance across the table at her friend, -"we are engaged for the first dance, you know." - -She always called me "Vere," now, in imitation of her brother. - -"Are we?" was my somewhat ungallant reply. "I was not aware of it, I do -not think I shall go to the ball." - -"Not go to the ball!" exclaimed Valèrie; "and I have told you the colour -of my dress and everything. Not go to the ball! do you hear him, -Victor? do you hear him, Sir Harry? do you hear him, Captain Ropsley?" - -"We can hardly believe it," replied the latter, with a quiet smile; -"but, Countess Valèrie, he does not deserve your confidence: will you -not tell _us_ what your dress is to be?" - -"Nobody but Vere," persisted the Countess, with another arch smile at -Constance; "you know he is engaged to me, at least for this evening. -But he is cross and rude, and deserves to be mystified and made unhappy. -But seriously, Vere, you _will_ go? Ask him, Miss Beverley; he won't -refuse _you_, although he is so ungallant towards _me_." - -Constance looked up for a moment, and in a dry, measured voice, like a -child repeating a lesson, said, "I hope you will go, Mr. Egerton;" and -then resumed the study of her plate, paler and more reserved than ever. - -I heard Bold's tail wagging against the floor. "What have I done to -offend her," I thought, "that she will thus scarcely even deign to speak -to me?" I bowed constrainedly, and said nothing; but the torture was -beginning to get more severe than I could bear, and making an excuse -that I should be late for the opera, whither none of my companions were -going, I hurried from the table, Valèrie giving me as I rose a camellia -from her bouquet, and charging me to return it to her at the ball. "I -shall count upon you, Vere," she said, as I adjusted it in my coat, "and -keep myself disengaged." - -I threaded my way through the dirty streets to the opera. I ensconced -myself in the corner of the De Rohans' box; and resting my head on my -hand, I began to reflect for the first time for many weeks on my -position and my prospects. I could not conceal from myself that I was -no longer justified in living on the terms of intimacy with Victor and -his sister which had so long constituted such an agreeable distraction -in my life. It was evident that Valèrie considered me in the light of -something more than a friend, and it was due to the lady, to her -brother, and to myself, that such a misconception should be rectified at -once and for ever. I was well aware in my heart of hearts that -Constance Beverley was still, as she would always be, the idol of my -life, but I was too proud to confess this even to myself. It was -evident that she cared no longer for the friend of her childhood, that -she was totally indifferent as to what became of the nameless, -ill-starred adventurer who had once presumed to ask her to be his; and I -ground my teeth as I told myself I was too proud, far too proud, to care -for any woman that did not care for me. But I could not lead this life -of inaction and duplicity any longer. No, I was well now, I was able to -walk again (and I thought of my gentle nurse with a sigh). I would not -go to the ball to-night; I would leave Vienna to-morrow; it was far -better not to see Miss Beverley again, better for me at least, and ought -I not to consult my own interest first? Others were selfish. I would be -selfish too! Even Valèrie, I had no doubt, was just like all other -women; she wouldn't care, not she! And yet she was a frank, -open-hearted girl, too. Poor Valèrie! And mechanically I placed the -camellia she had given me to my lips, and raised my eyes to examine the -house for the first time since my entrance. - -What was my surprise to remark the action I have just described imitated -exactly by a lady in a box opposite mine, but whose face was so turned -away from me, and so masked, moreover, by a bouquet she held in her -hand, that I could not identify her features, or even make out whether -she was young or old, handsome or plain! All I could see was a -profusion of rich brown hair, and a well-turned arm holding the bouquet -aforesaid, with the odours of which she seemed much gratified, so -perseveringly did she apply it to her face. After a short interval, I -adjusted my opera-glass and took a long survey of the flower-loving -dame. As soon as she was sure she had attracted my attention, she once -more applied the white camellia to her lips with much energy and -fervour, still, however, keeping her face as far as possible turned away -from me, and shaded by the curtains of her box. Three times this absurd -pantomime was enacted. So strong a partiality for so scentless a flower -as the camellia could not be accidental; and at last I made up my mind -that, in all probability, she mistook me for somebody else, and would -soon find out her error without my giving myself any further trouble on -the subject. I had too much to occupy my own mind to distress myself -very long about the _Dame aux Camellias_; and I turned my attention to -the stage, to seek relief, if only for half-an-hour, from the thoughts -that were worrying at my heart. - -The ballet of _Sattinella_ was being enacted, and a man must have been -indeed miserable who could entirely withdraw his attention from the -magnificent figure of Marie Taglioni, as she bounded about in the -character of that fire-born Temptress, a very impersonation of grace, -symmetry, beauty, and _diablerie_. The moral of the piece is very -properly not developed till the end, and it is too much to expect of a -human heart that it shall sympathise with the unfortunate victim of -Satan's charming daughter as long as his tortures are confined to -performing wondrous bounds towards the footlights in her fiendish -company, and resting her diabolical form upon his knee in the most -graceful and bewitching attitude that was ever invented below, and sent -up expressly for the delectation of a Viennese audience. Neither did I -think the "first male dancer" very much to be pitied when he was -inveigled into a beautiful garden by moonlight, where he discovered the -whole _corps de ballet_ arranged in imitation of statues, in the most -fascinating of _poses plastiques_, and so well drilled as scarcely even -to wink more than the very marble it was their part to represent. Soft -music playing the whole time, and fountains, real fountains, spouting -and splashing the entire depth of the stage, constituted the voluptuous -accessories of the scene, and it was not till the senses of the -spectators had been thoroughly entranced by beauty and melody--by all -that could fascinate the eye and charm the ear, that the whole spectacle -changed to one of infernal splendour; the fountains becoming fireworks, -the pure and snowy statues turning to gorgeous she-devils of the most -diabolical beauty and fierceness, whilst Sattinella herself, appearing -in a bewitching costume of crimson and flames, carried off the -bewildered victim of her blandishments, to remain bound to her for ever -in the dominions of her satanic father. - -Having once got him, it is understood that she will never let him go -again, and I could not pity him very sincerely notwithstanding. - -The opera was over, the company rapidly departing, and I stood alone at -the stove in the crush-room, wondering why the house was not burnt down -every time this beautiful ballet was performed, and speculating lazily -between whiles as to whether I was ever likely to witness an opera -again. I was one of the last spectators left in the house, and was -preparing to depart, when a female figure, cloaked and hooded, passed -rapidly under my very nose, and as she did so, pressed a camellia to her -lips in a manner which admitted of no misconception as to her motive. I -could not see her face, for a black satin hood almost covered it, but I -recognised the rounded arm and the handsome bouquet which I had before -remarked in the opposite box. Of course I gave instantaneous chase, and -equally of course came up with the lady before she reached her carriage. -She turned round as she placed her foot on the step, and dropped her fan -upon the muddy pavement; I picked it up, and returned it to her with a -bow. She thanked me in French, and whispered hurriedly, "Monsieur will -be at the Redouten-Saal to-night?" I was in no humour for an adventure, -and answered "No." She repeated in a marked manner, "Yes, monsieur will -be at the ball; monsieur will find himself under the gallery of the -Emperor's band at midnight. _De grâce_, monsieur will not refuse this -_rendezvous_." - -"I had not intended to go," was my unavoidable reply, "but of course to -please Madame it was my duty to make any sacrifice. I would be at the -appointed place at the appointed time." - -She thanked me warmly and earnestly. "She had travelled night and day -for a week, the roads were impassable, frightful, the fatigue unheard -of. She had a _migraine_, she had not slept for nights, and yet she was -going to this ball. I would not fail her, I would be sure to be there. -_Adieu_--no, _au revoir_." - -So the carriage drove off, splashing no small quantity of mud over my -face and toilet. As I returned to my hotel to dress, I wondered what -was going to happen _now_. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIX - - "A MERRY MASQUE" - - -It was a beautiful sight, one calculated to inspire feelings of mirth -and gaiety, even in a heart ill at ease with itself. Such a ball-room as -the Redouten-Saal is perhaps hardly to be seen elsewhere in Europe. -Such music I will venture to say can only be heard in Vienna, where the -whole population, from the highest to the lowest, seem to live only that -they may dance. Everybody knows the effect of brilliant light on the -animal spirits; the walls of these magnificent rooms are of a pale fawn -colour, almost approaching to white--the very shade that best refracts -and enhances the effect of hundreds of wax candles, shedding their soft -radiance on the votaries of pleasure below. No wonder people are in -good spirits; no wonder they throng the spacious halls, or parade the -long galleries above, and looking down from their elevated position, -pass many a pointed jest and humorous sally on the varied scene that -crowds the floor below. No wonder they frequent the refreshment-rooms -that skirt these galleries, and flirt and talk nonsense, and quiz each -other with the cumbrous vivacity of the Saxon race. When I entered from -the quiet street I was dazzled by the glare, and almost stupefied by the -hum of many voices, and the pealing notes of one of those waltzes which -Strauss seems to have composed expressly to remind the fallen children -of Adam of their lost Paradise. From a boy music has made me -melancholy--the sweeter the sadder; and although it is a morbid unmanly -feeling, which I have striven hard to overcome, it has always conquered -me, it will always conquer me to the last. I felt bitterly out of place -amongst these pleasure-worshippers. What had I to do here, where all -were merry and full of enjoyment? My very dress was out of keeping with -the scene, for I was one of a very small minority in civil attire. -Gorgeous uniforms, white, blue, and green, glittered all over the -ball-room; for in Austria no officer nowadays ever appears out of -uniform; and as an army of six hundred thousand men is officered almost -exclusively from the aristocracy, the fair ball-goers of Vienna find no -lack of partners in gaudy and warlike attire. The ladies were all -masked; not so their respective cavaliers, it being part of the -amusement of these balls that the gentler sex alone should appear -_incognito_, and so torment their natural prey at more than their usual -advantage; thus many a poisoned dart is planted, many a thrust driven -securely home, without a chance of a parry or fear of a return. Though -Pity is represented in a female garb, it seems to me that woman, when -she does strike, strikes harder, straighter, swifter, more unsparingly -than man. Perhaps she suffers as much as she inflicts, and this makes -her ruthless and reckless--who knows? if so, she would rather die than -acknowledge it. These are not thoughts for a ball, and yet they crowded -on me more and more as I stood under the musicians' gallery, gazing -vacantly at the throng. - -Victor and his party had not yet arrived. I was sure to distinguish -them by Ropsley's scarlet uniform, and I was also sure that in such an -assemblage of military connoisseurs the costume of Queen Victoria's -body-guard would attract observation and remark that could not pass -unnoticed even by so preoccupied a spectator as myself. Besides, I knew -the colour of Valèrie's dress; it was to be pink, and of some fabric, -beautiful exceedingly, of which I had forgotten the name as soon as -told. I was consequently sure of finding them whenever I wished, so I -stood quietly in my corner, and watched the crowd go by, without caring -to mingle in the stream or partake of the amusements every one else -seemed to find so delightful. How poor and vapid sounded the -conversation of the passers-by; how strained the efforts at wit; how -forced and unnatural the attempts at mystification! The Germans are too -like ourselves to sustain for any length of time the artificial pace of -badinage and repartee. It is not the genius of the nation, and they -soon come to a humble jog-trot of old trite jokes, or, worse still, -break down completely, and stop once for all. The only man that seemed -in his element was a French _attaché_, and he indeed entered into the -spirit of the thing with a zest and enthusiasm of truly Parisian origin. -Surrounded by masks, he kept up a fire of witticism, which never failed -or diminished for an instant; like the juggler who plays with -half-a-dozen balls, now one, now another, now all up in air at once. -The Frenchman seemed to ask no respite, to shrink from no emergency; he -was little, he was ugly, he was not even gentleman-like, but he was "the -right man in the right place," and the ladies were enchanted with him -accordingly. Surrounded by his admirers, he was at a sufficient -distance for me to watch his proceedings without the risk of appearing -impertinent, and so I looked on, half amused at his readiness, half -disgusted with his flippancy, till I found my attention wandering once -more to my own unprofitable and discontented thoughts. - -"_Mouton gui rêve_," said a voice at my elbow, so close that it made me -start. - -I turned rapidly round, and saw a lady standing so near that her dress -touched mine, masked, of course, and thoroughly disguised in figure and -appearance. Had it not been for the handsome arm and the camellia she -held to her lips, I should not have recognised her as the lady I had -spoken to at the door of the Opera, and who had appointed to meet me at -this very spot--a _rendezvous_ which, truth to tell, I had nearly -forgotten. - -"_Mouton gui rêve_," she repeated, and added, in the same language, -"Your dreams must be very pleasant if they can thus abstract you from -all earthly considerations, even music and dancing, and your duty -towards the fair sex." - -"Now what _can_ this woman want with me? I wish she would let me -alone," was my inward thought: but my outward expression thereof was -couched in more polite language. - -"Dreaming! of course I was dreaming--and of Madame; so bright a vision, -that I could hardly hope ever to see it realised. I place myself at -Madame's feet as the humblest of her slaves." - -She laughed in my face. "Do not attempt compliments," she said, "it is -not your _métier_. The only thing I like about you English is your -frankness and straight-forward character. Take me upstairs. I want to -speak seriously to you. Don't look so preoccupied." - -At this instant I recognised Ropsley's scarlet uniform showing to great -advantage on his tall person in the distance; I could not help glancing -towards the part of the room in which I knew the pink dress was to be -found, for the pink dress would of course have entered with Ropsley, and -where the pink dress was there would be _another_, whom, after to-night, -I had resolved _never, never_ to see again. - -My mysterious acquaintance had now hooked herself on to my arm, and as -we toiled up the stairs it was necessary to say something. I said the -first thing that occurred to me. "How did you know I was an -Englishman?" She laughed again. - -"_Not_ by your French," she answered; "for without compliment, you speak -it as well as I do; but who except an Englishman would go to sleep with -his eyes open in such a place as this? who else would forget such a -_rendezvous_ as I gave you here? who else, with a pretty woman on his -arm (I _am_ a pretty woman, though I don't mean to unmask), would be -longing to get away, and hankering after a pink dress and a black domino -at the other end of the room? You needn't wince, my friend; I know all -your secrets. You were in the seventh heaven when I interrupted you. I -wish you would come down to earth again." - -I will not say where I wished _she_ would go down to, but I answered -gravely and politely enough--"It was not to tell me this you stopped -your carriage after the opera to-night; tell me how I can serve you--I -am at the disposition of Madame, though I am at a loss to discover what -she means by her pink dresses and black dominoes." - -"I will not laugh at you for being serious," she replied. "I am serious -myself now, and I shall be for the next ten minutes. Frankly, I know -you; I know all about you. I know the drawing-room at Edeldorf, and I -know Valèrie de Rohan--don't look so frightened, your secret is safe -with me. Be equally frank, Monsieur l'Interprète, and interpret -something for me, under promise of secrecy. You are an Englishman," she -added, hurriedly, her manner changing suddenly to one of earnestness, -not unmixed with agitation; "can I depend upon you?" - -"Implicitly, Madame," was my reply. - -"Then tell me why Victor de Rohan is constantly at the Hôtel Munsch with -his foreign friends; tell me why he is always in attendance on that -proud young lady, that frigid specimen of an English 'meess'? Is it -true, I only ask you--tell me, is it true?" - -Agitated as was the questioner, her words smote home to her listener's -heart. How blind I had been, living with them every day, and never to -see it! while here was a comparative stranger, one at least who, by her -own account, had been absent from Vienna for weeks, and she was mistress -of the details of our every-day life; she had been watching like a lynx, -whilst I was sleeping or dreaming at my post; well, it mattered little -which, now. The hand that held her bouquet was shaking visibly, but her -voice was steady and even slightly sarcastic as she read her answer in -my face, and resumed-- - -"What I have heard, then, is true, and Count de Rohan is indeed an -enviable man. You need not say another word, Monsieur l'Interprète, I -am satisfied. I thank you for your kindness. I thank you for your -patience; you may kiss my hand;" and she gave it me with the air of a -queen. "I am an old friend of his and of his family; I shall go and -congratulate him; you need not accompany me. Adieu! good sleep and -pleasant dreams to you." - -I followed her with my eyes as she moved away. I saw her walk up to -Victor, who had a lady in blue, Constance, of course, upon his arm. She -passed close by him and whispered in his ear. He started, and I could -see that he turned deadly pale. For an instant he hesitated as if he -would follow her, but in a twinkling she was lost amongst the crowd, and -I saw her no more that night. - -I threaded my way to where Ropsley in his scarlet uniform was conversing -with a knot of distinguished Austrian officers; they were listening to -his remarks with attention, and here, as elsewhere, in the ball-room at -Vienna as in the playground at Everdon, it seemed natural that my old -school-fellow should take the lead. Sir Harry was by his side -occasionally putting in his word, somewhat _mal-à-propos_, for though a -shrewd capable man, foreign politics were a little out of Sir Harry's -depth. Behind him stood the much-talked-of pink dress; its wearer was -closely masked, but I knew the flowers she held in her hand, and I -thought now was the time to bid Valèrie a long farewell. She was a -little detached from her party, and I do not think expected me so soon, -for she started when I spoke to her, but bowed in acquiescence, and put -her arm within mine when I proposed to make the tour of the room with -her, although, true to the spirit of a masquerade, not a word escaped -her lips. I led her up to the galleries, and placed a seat for her apart -from the crowd. I did not quite know how to begin, and contrary to her -wont, Valèrie seemed as silently disposed as myself. At last I took -courage, and made my plunge. - -"I have asked to speak to you, to wish you good-bye," I said. "I am -going away to-morrow. For my own sake I must stay here no longer. I am -going back to the East. I am well now, and anxious to be on service -again. I have stayed in the Fatherland far too long as it is. To-morrow -at daybreak Bold and I must be _en route_ for Trieste." I paused; she -winced, and drew in her breath quickly, but bowed her head without -speaking, and I went on--"Mine has been a strange lot, and not a very -happy one; and this must account to you for my reserved, unsociable -conduct, my seeming ingratitude to my best and kindest friends. Believe -me, I am not ungrateful, only unhappy. I might have been, I ought to -have been a very different man. I shall to-night bid you farewell, -perhaps for ever. You are a true friend; you have always borne and -sympathised with me. I will tell you my history; bear and sympathise -with me now. I have been a fool and an idolater all my life; but I have -been at least consistent in my folly, and true in my idolatry. From my -earliest boyhood there has been but one face on earth to me, and that -one face will haunt me till I die. Was it my fault, that seeing her -every day I could not choose but love her? that loving her I would have -striven heart and soul, life and limb, to win her? And I failed. I -failed, though I would have poured out my heart's blood at her feet. I -failed, and yet I loved her fondly, painfully, madly as ever. Why am I -an exile from my country--a wanderer on the face of the earth--a ruined, -desperate man? Why, because of her. And yet I would not have it -otherwise, if I could. It is dearer to me to sorrow for her sake, than -it could ever have been to be happy with another. Valèrie, God forbid -you should ever know what it is to love as I have done. God forbid that -the feeling which ought to be the blessing and the sunshine of a life -should turn to its blight and its curse! Valèrie!" - -She was shaking all over; she was weeping convulsively under her mask: I -could hear her sobs, and yet I was pitiless. I went on. It was such a -relief in the selfishness of my sorrow, to pour out the pent-up grief of -years, to tell any one, even that merry, light-hearted girl, how -bitterly I had suffered--how hopeless was my lot. It was not that I -asked for sympathy, it was not that I required pity; but it seemed a -necessity of my being, that I should establish in the ears of one living -witness the fact of my great sorrow, ere I carried it away with me, -perhaps to my grave. And all this time the melody of the "Weintrauben" -was pealing on, as if in mockery. Oh, that waltz! How often she had -played it to me in the drawing-room at Beverley! Surely, surely, it -must smite that cold heart even now. - -My companion's sobs were less violent, but she grasped the bouquet in -her hand till every flower drooped and withered with the pressure. - -"Valèrie," I continued, "do not think me vain or presumptuous. I speak -to you as a man who has death looking him in the face. I am resolved -never to return. I am no braver than my neighbours, but I have nothing -on earth to live for, and I pray to die. I can speak to you now as I -would not dare to speak if I thought ever to look in your face again. -You have been my consoler, my sister, my friend. Oh, I could have dared -to love you, Valèrie; to strive for you, to win you, had I but been -free. You are, perhaps, far worthier than that proud, unfeeling girl, -and yet--and yet--it cannot be. Farewell, Valèrie, dear Valèrie; we -shall never meet again. You will be happy, and prosperous, and beloved; -and you will think sometimes of the poor wounded bird whose broken wing -you healed, only that it might fly away once more into the storm. As -for me, I have had no future for years. I live only in the past. Bold -and I must begin our wanderings again to-morrow--Bold whom she used to -fondle, whom I love for her sake. It is not every man, Countess -Valèrie, that will sacrifice his all to an idea, and that idea a false -one!" - -"Stop, Vere!" she gasped out wildly; "hush, for mercy's sake, hush!" - -Oh! that voice, that voice! was I dreaming? was it possible? was I mad? -Still the wild tones of the "Weintrauben" swelled and sank upon mine -ear; still the motley crowd down below were whirling before my sight; -and as surely as I saw and heard, so surely was it Constance Beverley -who laid her hand in mine, and tearing down her mask, turned upon me a -look so wild, so mournful, so unearthly, that, through all my -astonishment, all my confusion, it chilled me to the heart. Many a day -afterwards--ay, in the very jaws of death, that look haunted me still. - -"So true," she muttered; "oh, misery, misery! too late." - -"Forgive me, Miss Beverley," I resumed, bitterly, and with cold -politeness; "this communication was not intended for you. I meant to -bid Countess Valèrie farewell. You have accidentally heard that which I -would have died sooner than have told you. It would be affectation to -deny it now. I shall not annoy you any further. I congratulate you on -your many conquests, and wish you good-bye." - -She was weeping once more, and wrung my hand convulsively. - -"Vere, Vere," she pleaded, "do not be so hard upon me; so bitter, so -mocking, so unlike yourself. Spare me, I entreat you, for I am very -miserable. You do nob know how I am situated. You do not know how I -have struggled. But I must not talk thus _now_." - -She recovered her self-command with a strong effort, and pale as death, -she spoke steadily on. - -"Vere, we may not make our own lot in life; whatever is, is for the -best. It is too late to think of what might have been. Vere, dear -Vere, you are my brother--you never can be more to me than a dear, -_dear_ brother." - -"Why not?" I gasped, for her words, her voice, her trembling frame, her -soft, sweet, mournful looks, had raised once more a legion of hopes that -I thought were buried for ever in my breast; and despite my cruel -taunts, I loved her, even whilst I smote, as the fierce human heart can -love, and tear, and rend, and suffer the while, far, far more keenly -than its victim. - -"Because I am the promised wife of another. Your friend, Count de -Rohan, proposed for me this very day, and I accepted him." - -She was standing up as she said it, and she spoke in a steady measured -voice; but she sat down when she had finished, and tried to put her mask -on again. Her fingers trembled so that she could not tie the strings. - -I offered her my arm, and we went downstairs. Not a word did we -exchange till we had nearly reached the place where Sir Harry was still -standing talking to Victor de Rohan. Ropsley, in his scarlet uniform, -was whirling away with a lady in a blue dress, whose figure I recognised -at once for that of the Countess Valèrie. It was easy to discover that -the young ladies, who resembled each other in size and stature, had -changed dresses; and the Countess, to enhance the deception, had lent -her bouquet to her friend. I was giddy and confused, like a man with -his death-hurt, but pride whispered in my ear to bear it in silence and -seeming unconcern. - -Three paces more would bring us to Sir Harry. I should never see her -again. In a short time she might perhaps read my name in the _Gazette_, -and then hard, haughty, false as she was, she would like to know that I -had been true to her to the last. No, I would not part with her in -anger; my better angel conquered, and I wrung her hand, and whispered, -"God bless you, Constance." "God bless you, Vere," she replied; and the -pressure of those soft trembling fingers thrilled on mine for many a -day. - -I recollect but little more of that ball in the Redouten-Saal. I believe -I congratulated Victor on his approaching marriage. I believe I wished -Valèrie good-bye, and was a little disappointed at the resignation with -which she accepted my departure. I have a vague impression that even -Ropsley, usually so calm, so selfish, so unsympathising, accompanied me -home, under the impression that I was ill. My mind had been overstrung, -and I walked about like a man in a dream. But morning came at last, and -with my cased sword under my arm, and Bold in a leash at my feet, I -stood on the platform of the railway-station, waiting for the departure -of my train. An English servant, in the well-known livery, touched his -hat as he put a letter into my hand. Miser that I was! I would not -read it till I was fairly settled in the carriage. Little thought the -faded belle, with her false front, opposite me, or the fat man, with a -seal-ring on his fore-finger, by my side, how that scrap of paper was -all my wealth on earth; but they were honest Germans, and possessed that -truest of all politeness, which does as it would be done by. No -inquisitive regards annoyed me during its perusal; no impertinent -sympathy remarked on the tears which I am ashamed to say fell thick and -fast upon it ere it closed. I have it by me now, that yellow well-worn -paper. I have read those delicate womanly characters by scorching -sunlight, by the faint glimmer of a picket's lantern, far away on the -boundless sea, cramped and close in the stifling tent. If indeed "every -bullet has its billet," and any one of them had been destined to lodge -in my bosom, it must have found its way right through that fragile -shield--ay, carried in with it the very words which were ineffaceably -engraven on my heart. No wonder I can remember it all. Here it is:-- - - -"Vere, you must not judge me as men are so prone to judge -women--harshly, hastily, uncharitably. We are not all frivolous, -selfish, and fond of change, caring only for our amusements, our -_conquests_, as you call them, and our enmities. You were bitter and -cruel to me last night. Indeed, indeed, I feel you had a right to be so, -Vere. I am so, _so_ sorry for you. But you must not think I have -treated you unkindly, or with want of confidence. Remember how you have -avoided me ever since we came to Vienna; remember how you have behaved -to me as a stranger, or at most a mere acquaintance; how you have never -once inquired about my prospects, or alluded to old times. Perhaps you -were right; perhaps you felt hurt, proud, and angry; and yet, Vere, I -had expected better things from _you_. Had I been in your place I think -I could have forgiven, I think I could have cared for, sympathised with, -and respected one whom I was forbidden to love. If I were a man, it -seems to me that I should not place happiness, however great, as the one -sole aim of my existence; that I should strive to win honour and -distinction, to benefit my fellow-men, and above all, to fulfil my duty, -even with no higher reward here below than my own approval. Vere, when -a man feels he is doing right, others think so too. I could be proud, -oh! so proud, of my brother. Yes, Vere, it is my turn to implore now, -and I entreat you let me be a sister, a very dear sister to you. As -such I will tell you all my griefs, all my doings; as such I can confide -in you, write to you, think of you, pray for you, as indeed I do, Vere, -every morning and evening of my life. And now let us dismiss at once -and for ever the thoughts of what might have been. The past is beyond -recall--the present, as you used to say, does not exist. The future -none can call their own. There is but one reality in life, and that is -Right. Vere, I have done right. I have followed the path of duty. -Brother, I call upon you for your help along the rough steep way; you -have never failed me yet, you will not fail me now. - -"You know my mother died when I was very young. Since then my father has -fulfilled the duties of both parents towards his child. As I have grown -older and seen more of the world, I have been better able to appreciate -his affection and devotion to myself. A little girl must have been a -sad clog upon a man like my dear father, a high-spirited gentleman, fond -of the world, fond of society, fond of pleasure. Besides, had it not -been for me, he would have married again, and he preferred to sacrifice -his happiness to his child. Can I ever repay him? No. Whatever may -have been his faults, he has been a kind, kind father to me. I will -tell you all frankly, Vere, as this is the last time the subject can -ever be mentioned between us. Had I been free to choose, I would have -been yours. I am not ashamed--nay, I am _proud_ to own it. But you -know how impossible it was, how absolutely my father forbade it. To -have disobeyed him would have been wicked and ungrateful. I feel that -even you would not have respected me had I done so. But of late he has -become most anxious to see me settled in life. From his own hints, and -Captain Ropsley's open assertions, it seems this alone can stave off -some dreadful evil. I do not understand it. I only know I am bound to -do all in my power for papa; and that he is entangled with that bad, -unprincipled man I feel convinced. Oh, Vere, it might have been far, -far worse. In accepting Count de Rohan I have escaped a great and -frightful danger. Besides, I esteem him highly, I like his society, I -admire his open, honourable character. I have known him all my life; he -is your oldest friend--I need not enlarge upon his merits to you. His -sister, too, is a charming, frank-hearted girl. From all I heard, from -all I saw, I had hoped, Vere, that she had effaced in your mind the -unhappy recollections of former days. She is beautiful, accomplished, -and attractive; can you wonder that I believed what I was told, and -judged, besides, by what I saw? Even now we might be related. You seem -to like her, and she would make any one happy. Forgive me, Vere, -forgive me for the suggestion. It seems so unfeeling now, whilst I have -your tones of misery ringing in my ears; and yet, Heaven knows, _your_ -happiness is the wish nearest my heart. Consult only _that_, and I -shall be satisfied. To hear of your welfare, your success, will make me -happy. I cannot, I must not write to you again. You yourself would not -wish it. I ought to write no more now. I feel for you, Vere; I know -how you must suffer, but the steel must be tempered in the fire, and it -is through suffering that men learn to be great and good. There are -other prizes in life besides happiness. There is an hour coming for us -all, when even the dearest and closest will have to part. May we both -be ready when that hour arrives. And now it is time to bid the long -farewell; our paths in life must henceforth be separate. Do not think -unkindly of me, Vere; I may not be with you, but I may be proud of you, -and wish you every happiness. Forget me--yet not altogether. Dear, -_dear_ brother, God bless you! and farewell! - -"Take care of poor Bold." - - -So it was really over at last. Well, and what then? Had it not been -over, to all intents and purposes, long ago? Yes, there was something -worth living for, after all. There was no bitterness now, for there was -nothing to hope; the cup had been drained to the dregs, and the very -intoxication of the draught had passed away, but it had invigorated the -system and given new life to the heart. It was much to feel that I had -been valued and appreciated by such a woman--much to know that my name -would never fall unmeaningly on her ear. And I would be worthy, I would -never fail. The sacrifice should be perfected. And though I might -never see her again on earth, I would preserve her image pure and -unsullied in my heart of hearts. Constance Beverley should henceforth -and for ever be my ideal of all that was purest and noblest and best -beloved in woman. - - - - - CHAPTER XXX - - THE GOLDEN HORN - - -"Johnny, want to see the bazaar?" The speaker was a Greek of the lowest -class, depraved and dirty, with a flexibility of limb and cunning of -countenance only to be seen in the present representatives of that race -who once furnished the sculptor with his glorious ideal of godlike -strength and intellectual beauty. I longed to kick him--the climate of -Constantinople is provocative of irritation, and I felt that with my -bushy beard, my Oriental demeanour, my acquaintance with Turkish habits -and proficiency in the language, it was irritating to be called -"Johnny," and asked to "see the bazaar," as though I had been the -smoothest and ruddiest ensign, disembarked for a day's leave from yonder -crowded troop-ship, an innocent lamb frisking in the sun on my way up to -the shambles before Sebastopol. - -Yes, I was pretty well acclimatised in Turkey now. A year and more had -passed over my head since I had left Vienna, the morning after that -memorable ball at the Redouten-Saal, and what changes had that year -brought forth! Sir Harry Beverley was gathered to his fathers, and an -investigation into that worthy gentleman's affairs had explained much -that was hitherto incomprehensible in his conduct as to his daughter's -marriage and his connection with Ropsley. The latter had played his -game scientifically throughout. He was aware that on a proper -settlement being made, by marriage or otherwise, for his daughter, Sir -Harry would obtain the fee-simple of certain property which, until such -an event, he only held in trust for the young lady's benefit; and as -these were the sole funds to which the far-seeing Guardsman could look -to liquidate Sir Harry's debts to himself, incurred no one knew exactly -how, it was his object to expedite as speedily as possible the marriage -of my early love. As she was an heiress he would have had no objection -to wed her himself, and indeed, as we have already seen, had entered -into terms with her father for the furtherance of this object. That -scheme was, however, defeated by her own determination, and it had long -been apparent to my mind that Constance had only married my old friend -Victor to escape from the dreadful alternative of becoming Ropsley's -wife: that such an alliance promised but ill for the future happiness of -both I could not conceal from myself, and yet so selfish is the human -heart, so difficult is it to shake the "trail of the serpent" from off -the flowerets of our earthly love, I could not regret as I ought to have -done that the two people whom most I cared for in the world, should not -be as devoted to each other as is essential to the happiness of those -whom the tie of marriage has bound indissolubly together. - -Ah! she was Countess de Rohan now, living at Edeldorf in all that state -and luxury which she was so well calculated to adorn; and I, what had I -done since we parted for ever at the masquerade? Well, I had striven to -fulfil her wishes--to rise to honour and distinction, to be worthy of -her friendship and esteem. Fame I had gained none, but I had done my -duty. Omar Pasha, my kind patron, who had never forgotten the child -that sympathised with him at Edeldorf, had expressed himself satisfied -with my services; and 'Skender Bey, drunk or sober, never passed me -without a cordial grasp of the hand. For more than a year I had shared -the fortunes of the Turkish commander and the Turkish army. I had seen -the merits of those poor, patient, stanch, unflinching troops, and the -shortcomings of their corrupt and venal officers. I knew, none better, -how the Turkish soldier will bear hunger, thirst, privation, ill-usage, -and arrears of pay without a murmur; how, with his implicit faith in -destiny, and his noble self-sacrifice in the cause of God and the -Sultan, he is capable of endurance and effort such as put the ancient -Spartan to the blush--witness the wan faces, the spectral forms, gaunt, -famine-stricken and hollow-eyed, that so doggedly carried out the -behests of the tameless defender of Kars. I had seen him starved and -cheated that his colonel might gormandise--ay! and, in defiance of the -Prophet, drink to intoxication of the forbidden liquid--and I wondered -not, as none who knew the nation need wonder, that Russian gold will -work its way to the defeat of a Turkish army far more swiftly than all -the steel that bristles over the thronging columns of the Muscovite. -Keep the Pasha's hands clean, or make it worth his while to be faithful -to his country--forbid the northern eagle from spreading his wing over -the Black Sea, and you may trust the Turkish soldier that not a Russian -regiment ever reaches the gates of Constantinople. All this I had seen, -and for long I was content to cast in my lot with this brave people, -struggling against the invader; but my own countrymen were in arms -scarce two hundred miles off, the siege of Sebastopol was dragging -wearily on from day to day--I felt that I would fain be under the dear -old English flag, would fain strike one blow surrounded by the kindly -English faces, cheered by the homely English tongues. She was more -likely to hear of me, too, if I could gain some employment with the -English army; and this last argument proved to me too painfully what I -had vainly striven to conceal from myself, how little these long months -of trials, privations, and excitement had altered the real feelings of -my heart. Would it be always so? Alas, alas! it was a weary lot! - -"Johnny, want to see the bazaar?" He woke me from my day-dream, but I -felt more kindly towards him now, more cosmopolitan, more charitable. -In such a scene as that, how could any man, a unit in such a throng, -think only of his own individual interests or sufferings? - -Never since the days of the Crusaders--ay, scarcely even in that -romantic time, was there seen such a motley assemblage as now crowded -the wooden bridge that traverses the Golden Horn between bustling, -dirty, dissonant Pera, and stately, quiet, dignified Stamboul, those two -suggestive quarters that constitute the Turkish capital. On that bridge -might be seen a specimen of nearly every nation under the sun--the -English soldier with his burly, upright figure, and staid, -well-disciplined air; the rakish Zouave, with his rollicking gait, and -professed libertinism of demeanour, foreign to the real character of the -man. Jauntily he sways and swaggers along, his hands thrust into the -pockets of his enormous red petticoat trousers, his blonde hair shaved -close _à la Khabyle_, and his fair complexion burnt red by an African -sun long before he came here, "en route, voyez-vous," to fill the ditch -of the Malakhoff. "Pardon," he observes to a tall, stately Persian, -fresh from Astracan, whom he jostles unwittingly, for a Frenchman is -never impolite, save when he really _intends_ insult; the -fire-worshipper, in his long sad-coloured robes and high-pointed cap, -wreathes his aquiline nose into an expression of stately -astonishment--for a Persian, too, has his notions of good breeding, and -is extremely punctilious in acting up to them. His picturesque costume, -however, and dignified bearing, are lost upon the Zouave, for a gilded -_araba_ is at the moment passing, with its well-guarded freight, and the -accursed Giaour ogles these flowers of the harem with an impudent -pertinacity of truly Parisian growth. The beauties, fresh from their -bath, attempt, with henna-tinted fingers, to draw their thin veils -higher over their radiant features, their bed-gown-looking dresses -tighter round their plump forms; an arrangement which by some fatality -invariably discloses the beauties of face and figure more liberally than -before. Here a Jew, in his black dress and solemn turban, is counting -his gains attentively on his fingers; there an Armenian priest, with -square cap and long dusky draperies, tells his prayers upon his -sandal-wood beads. A mad dervish, naked to the loins, his hair knotted -in elf-locks, his limbs macerated by starvation, howls out his unearthly -dirge, to which nobody seems to pay attention, save that Yankee skipper -in a round hat, fresh from Halifax to Balaklava, who is much astonished, -if he would only confess it, and who sets down in his mental log-book -all that he sees and hears in this strange country as an "almighty -start." Italian sailors, speaking as much with their fingers as their -tongues, call perpetually on the Virgin; whilst Greeks, Maltese, and -Ionian Islanders scream and gesticulate, and jabber and cheat whenever -and however they can. Yonder an Arab from the desert stalks grim and -haughty, as though he trod the burning sands of his free, boundless -home. Armed to the teeth, the costly shawl around his waist bristling -with pistols and sword and deadly yataghan, he looks every inch the -tameless war-hawk whose hand is against every man, and every man's hand -against him. Preoccupied as he is, though, and ill at ease, for he has -left his steed in a stable from whence he feels no certainty that -priceless animal may not be stolen ere he returns; and should he lose -his horse, what will his very life avail him then? Nevertheless he can -sneer bitterly on that gigantic Ethiopian--a slave, of course--who -struts past him in all the borrowed importance of a great man's -favourite. At Constantinople, as at New Orleans,--in the City of the -Sultan as in the Land of the Free--the swarthy skin, the flattened -features, and the woolly hair of the negro denote the slave. That is a -tall, stalwart fellow, though, and would fetch his price in South -Carolina fast enough, were he put up for sale to the highest bidder. -Such a lot he need not dread here, and he leads some half-dozen of his -comrades, like himself, splendidly dressed and armed, with a confident, -not to say bellicose air, that seems to threaten all bystanders with -annihilation if they do not speedily make way for his master the Pasha. -And now the Pasha himself comes swinging by at the fast easy walk of his -magnificent Turkish charger, not many crosses removed from the pure -blood of the desert. The animal seems proud of its costly -accoutrements, its head-stall embossed with gold, and housings sown with -pearls, nor seems inclined to flag or waver under the goodly weight it -carries so jauntily. A gentleman of substantial proportions is the -Pasha; broad, strong, and corpulent, with the quiet, contented air of -one whose habitual life is spent amongst subordinates and inferiors. He -is a true Turk, and it is easy to trace in his gestures and -demeanour--haughty, grave and courteous--the bearing of the dominant -race. His stout person is buttoned into a tight blue frock-coat, on the -breast of which glitters the diamond order of the Medjidjie, and a fez -or crimson skull-cap, with a brass button in the crown, surmounts his -broad, placid face, clean and close shaved, all but the carefully -trimmed black moustache. A plain scimitar hangs at his side, and the -long chibouques, with their costly amber mouthpieces, are carried by the -pipe-bearer in his rear. The cripple asking for alms at his horse's -feet narrowly escapes being crushed beneath its hoofs; but in Turkey -nobody takes any trouble about anybody else, and the danger being past, -the cripple seems well satisfied to lie basking in the sun on those warm -boards, and wait for his destiny like a true Mussulman as he is. Loud -are the outcries of this Babel-like throng; and the porters of Galata -stagger by under enormous loads, shouting the while with stentorian -lungs, well adapted to their Herculean frames. Water-carriers and -sweetmeat-venders vie with each other in proclaiming the nature of their -business in discordant tones; a line of donkeys, bearing on their -patient backs long planks swaying to and fro, are violently addressed by -their half-naked drivers in language of which the poetic force is -equalled only by the energetic enunciation; and a string of Turkish -firemen, holloaing as if for their lives, are hurrying--if an Osmanli -can ever be said to hurry--to extinguish one of those conflagrations -which periodically depopulate Pera and Stamboul. - -The blue sparkling water, too, is alive with traffic, and is indeed -anything but a "silent highway." Graceful caïques, rowed by their -lightly-clad watermen--by far the most picturesque of all the dwellers -by the Bosphorus--shoot out in all directions from behind vessels of -every rig and every tonnage; the boatmen screaming, of course, on every -occasion, at the very top of their voices. All is bustle, confusion, -and noise; but the tall black cedars in the gardens of the -Seraglio-palace tower, solemn and immovable, into the blue cloudless -sky, for there is not a breath of air stirring to fan the scorching -noon, and the domes and minarets of Stamboul's countless mosques glitter -white and dazzling in the glare. It is refreshing to watch the ripple -yonder on the radiant Bosphorus, where the breeze sighs gently up from -the sea of Marmora--alas! we have not a chance of it elsewhere; and it -is curious to observe the restless white sea-fowl, whom the Turks -believe to be the lost souls of the wicked, scouring ever along the -surface of the waters, seemingly without stay or intermission, during -the livelong day. It is ominous, too; mark that enormous vulture poised -aloft on his broad wing, like a shadow of evil impending over the -devoted city. There are few places in the world so characteristic as -the bridge between Galata[#] and Stamboul. - - -[#] The suburb of Pera lying next the Bosphorus, a locality combining -the peculiarities of our own Smithfield, St. Giles's, and Billingsgate -in their worst days. There is another bridge across the Golden Horn, -higher up; but its traffic, compared to that of its neighbour, is as -that of Waterloo to London Bridge. - - -And now the traffic is brought to a stand-still, for the huge fabric has -to be opened, and swings back on its hinges for the passage of some -mighty craft moving slowly on to the inner harbour to refit. It is a -work of time and labour: the former article is of considerably less -value to our Moslem friends than the latter, and is lavished -accordingly; but though business may be suspended for the nonce, noise -increases tenfold, every item of the throng deeming the present an -opportune moment at which to deliver his, her, or its opinion on things -in general. Nimble fingers roll the fragrant cigarette, and dissonant -voices rise above the white spiral smoke into the clear bright air. -Close behind me I recognise the well-known Saxon expletive adjuring -_Johnny_ to "drive on,"--said "Johnny" invariably returning a blessing -for a curse, but "driving on," if by that expression is meant activity -and progress, as little as may be. Turning round, I confront a florid -Saxon face, with bushy beard and whiskers, surmounting a square form -that somehow I think I have seen before. "Scant greeting serves in time -of strife," and taking my chance of a mistake, I salute my neighbour -politely. - -"Mr. Manners, I believe? I am afraid you do not recollect me." - -"_Major_ Manners, sir; _Major_ Manners--very much at your service," is -the reply, in a tone of mild correction. "No; I confess you have the -advantage of me. And yet--can it be? Yes, it is--Vere Egerton!" - -"The same," I answered, with a cordial grasp of the hand; "but it is -strange we should meet here, of all places in the world." - -"I always told you I was born to be a soldier, Egerton," said the usher, -with his former jaunty air of good-humoured bravado; "and here I am -amongst the rest of you. Bless me, how you're grown! I should not have -known you had you not spoken to me. And I--don't you think I am -altered, eh? improved perhaps, but certainly altered--what?" - -I glanced over my friend's dress, and agreed with him most cordially as -to the _alteration_ that had taken place in his appearance. The eye -gets so accustomed to difference of costume at Constantinople, that it -is hardly attracted by any eccentricity of habit, however uncommon; but -when my attention was called by Manners himself to his exterior, I could -not but confess that he was apparelled in a style of gorgeous -magnificence, such as I had never seen before. High black riding-boots -of illustrious polish, with heavy steel spurs that would have become -Prince Rupert; crimson pantaloons under a bright green tunic, -single-breasted, and with a collar _à la guillotine_, that showed off to -great advantage the manly neck and huge bushy beard, but at the same -time suggested uncomfortable ideas of sore throats and gashing -sabre-strokes; a sash of golden tissue, and a sword-belt, new and richly -embroidered, sustaining a cavalry sabre nearly four feet long,--all this -was more provocative of admiration than envy; but when such a _tout -ensemble_ was surmounted by a white beaver helmet with a red plume, -something of a compromise between the head-dress of the champion at -Astley's and that which is much affected by the Prince Consort, the -general effect, I am bound to confess, became striking in the extreme. - -"I see," said I; "I admire you very much; but what is it?--the uniform, -I mean. Staff corps? Land Transport? What?" - -"Land Transport, indeed!" replied Manners, indignantly. "Not a bit of -it--nothing half so low. The Bashi-Bazouks--Beatson's Horse--whatever -you like to call them. Capital service--excellent pay--the officers a -jovial set of fellows; and really--eh now? confess, a magnificent -uniform. Come and join us, Egerton--we have lots of vacancies; it's the -best thing out." - -"And your men?" I asked, for I had heard of these Bashi-Bazouks and -their dashing leader. "What sort of soldiers are they?--can you depend -upon them?" - -"I'd lead them anywhere," replied my enthusiastic friend, whose -experience of warfare was as yet purely theoretical. "The finest -fellows you ever saw; full of confidence in their officers, and such -horsemen! Talk of your English dragoons! why, _our_ fellows will ride -up to a brick wall at a gallop, and pull up dead short; pick a glove off -the ground from the saddle, or put a bullet in it when going by as hard -as they can lay legs to the ground. You should really see them under -arms. _My opinion is_, they are the finest cavalry in the world." - -"And their discipline?" I continued, knowing as I did something of these -wild Asiatics and their predatory and irregular habits. - -"Oh, discipline!" answered my embryo warrior; "bother the discipline! we -mustn't begin by giving them too much of that; besides, it's nonsense to -drill those fellows, it would only spoil their _dash_. They behave very -well in camp. I have been with them now six weeks, and we have only had -one row yet." - -"And was that serious?" I asked, anxious to obtain the benefit of such -long experience as my friend's. - -"Serious"--replied Manners, thoughtfully; "well, it was serious; pistols -kept popping off, and I thought at one time things were beginning to -look very ugly, but the chief soon put them to rights. They positively -adore him. I don't know whether he punished the ringleaders. However," -added he, brightening up, "you must expect these sort of things with -Irregulars. It was the first time I ever was shot at, Egerton; it's not -half so bad as I expected: we are all dying to get into the field. -Hollo! they have shut the bridge again, and I must be getting on. Which -way are you going?--to the Seraskerât? Come and dine with me to-day at -Messirie's--Salaam!" - -And Manners strutted off, apparently on the best of terms with himself, -his uniform, and his Bashi-Bazouks. Well! he, too, had embarked on the -stormy career of war. It was wonderful how men turned up at -Constantinople, on their way to or from the Front. It seemed as if -society in general had determined on making an expedition to the East. -Dandies from St. James's-street were amusing themselves by amateur -soldiering before Sebastopol, and London fine ladies were to be seen -mincing about on the rugged stones of Pera, talking bad French to the -astonished Turks with a confidence that was truly touching. It was -Europe invading Asia once more, and I could not always think Europe -showed to advantage in the contrast. A native Turk, calm, dignified, -kindly, and polite, is a nobler specimen of the human race than a -bustling French barber or a greedy German Jew; and of the two latter -classes Pera was unfortunately full even to overflowing. Well, it was -refreshing to have crossed the bridge at last--to have left behind one -the miserable attempt at Europeanism, the dirt, the turmoil, and the -discomfort of Pera, for the quiet calm, the stately seclusion, and the -venerable magnificence of Stamboul. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXI - - THE SERASKERÂT - - -True believers were thronging in and out of the great mosque of St. -Sophia, pious in the consciousness of their many prostrations, rigorous -in their observance of the hour of prayer. A _mollah_ was shouting from -one of the minarets, calling north, south, east, and west on all the -faithful servants of the Prophet to offer up their daily orisons; and -the infidel, as we term him, responded zealously to the call. Business -was drowsily nodding in the bazaar; and the tradesman, sitting -cross-legged on his counter, pointed feebly with his pipe towards the -rich wares which his customer seemed barely to have energy to select. -Slipshod Turkish ladies, accompanied by their negro damsels, were -tripping slowly home from the bath, peeping at the Giaour through the -thin folds of their _yashmaks_ with curiosity not untempered by scorn. -Pot-bellied children, pashas in miniature, holding up their garments -with one hand, whilst they extended the henna-dyed fingers of the other, -waddled after the stranger, now spitting at him with precocious -fanaticism, now screaming out something about "Bono Johnny" and "Para," -in unseemly cupidity for an alms. Dogs, gorged and sleepy, the -recognised scavengers of the streets, lay coiled up in each shady corner -and recess. Everything betokened somnolence and repose. The very -sentry at the gate of the Seraskerât had laid his musket carefully -aside, and was himself leaning against the wall in an attitude of -helpless resignation and imbecility. My Turkish uniform, and his -knowledge of my person as attached to the staff of Omar Pasha, served -somewhat to arouse him; but ere he was fairly under arms I was already -in the inner court of the Seraskerât, and beyond reach of his challenge -or salute. What a contrast did it present to our own Horse-Guards, to -which office it is a corresponding institution! Notwithstanding our -boasted superiority, notwithstanding the proverbial supineness and -indolence of the Sultan's officials, the comparison was hardly in favour -of our London head-quarters for the hindrance of military affairs. Here -was no helpless messenger, whose business it seems to be to _know -nothing_, and who, answering every question with the unfailing "I will -go and inquire," disappears and is seen no more. Here was no -supercilious clerk, whose duty would appear to enjoin concealment of all -he _does_ know, and an imperative necessity of throwing difficulties in -everybody's way. Here was no lingering for hours in an ante-room, to -obtain a five minutes' interview of authoritative disapprobation on the -one hand, and submissive disappointment on the other. On the contrary, -at the foot of the stairs leading to the Seraskier's apartments were -collected a posse of bustling, smart attendants, all alive and willing -to assist in whatever was going on. Foreign officers, chiefly -Hungarians, passed to and fro in eager conclave or thoughtful -meditation. Interpreters were on the alert to solve a difficulty, and -well-bred, active horses stood saddled and bridled, ready to start at a -moment's notice with an order or a despatch. A knavish dragoman was -jabbering bad Italian to a Jewish-looking individual, who I concluded -must be a contractor; and a tall colonel of Turkish cavalry rolling a -cigarette in his brown, well-shaped fingers, stood looking on in -dignified indifference, as if he understood every word of their -conversation, but considered it immeasurably beneath his haughty notice. - -I sent up my name by a slim-waisted young officer, a Turk of the modern -school, with long hair and varnished boots, over which, however, he was -forced to wear indiarubber goloshes, that on going into the presence of -a superior he might pay the indispensable compliment of uncovering his -feet; and almost ere I had followed him three steps upstairs he had -returned, and informing me that I was expected, held aside the curtain, -under which I passed into the presence of the Seraskier. - -Again, how unlike the Horse-Guards! the room, though somewhat bare of -furniture, was gorgeously papered, painted, and decorated, in the florid -style of French art; a cut-glass chandelier hung from the centre of the -ceiling, and richly-framed mirrors adorned the walls. From the windows -the eye travelled over the glorious Bosphorus, with its myriads of -shipping, to the Asiatic shore, where beautiful Scutari, with its -background of hills and cypresses, smiled down upon the waters now -gleaming like a sheet of burnished gold. A low divan, covered with -velvet cushions and costly shawls, stretched round three sides of the -apartment, and on this divan were seated in solemn conclave the greatest -general of the day and the Seraskier or Commander-in-Chief of the -Turkish army. - -Some knotty point must have been under discussion before I entered, for -Omar Pasha's brow was perplexed and clouded, and a dead silence, -interrupted only by the bubble of the Seraskier's _narghileh_, reigned -between the two. The latter motioned me courteously to seat myself by -the side of my chief; an attendant brought me a spoonful of sweetmeat, a -tiny cup of strong, thick coffee, and an amber-tipped chibouque adorned -with priceless diamonds, and filled with tobacco such as the houris will -offer to the true believer in Paradise. I knew my assistance would soon -be required; for although Omar Pasha is a good Turkish scholar, few men -save those to whom it is almost a mother-tongue can converse fluently -for any length of time with a Turk in his own language: so I smoked in -silence and waited patiently till I was wanted. - -True to the custom of the country, Omar Pasha resumed the conversation -in an indifferent tone, by a polite inquiry after his Excellency's -health, "which must have suffered from his exertions in business during -the late heats." - -To this his Excellency replied, "that he had been bled, and derived -great benefit from it; but that the sight of his Highness, Omar Pasha, -had done him more good than all the prescriptions of the _Hakim_." - -A long silence, broken only as before; Omar Pasha, who does not smoke, -waxing impatient, but keeping it down manfully. - -The Seraskier at length remarked, without fear of contradiction, that -"his Highness was exceedingly welcome at Constantinople," and that "God -is great." - -Such self-evident truths scarcely furnished an opening for further -comment, but Omar Pasha saw his opportunity, and took advantage of it. - -"Tell the Seraskier," said he to me, as being a more formal manner of -acknowledging his courtesy, "that his welcome is like rain on a parched -soil; that Constantinople is the paradise of the earth, but the soldier -ought not to leave his post, and I must return to the army, taking with -me those supplies and arrears of pay of which I stand in need." - -All this I propounded in the florid hyperbole of the East. - -"Assuredly," answered the Seraskier, a stout, sedate, handsome -personage, who looked as if nothing could ruffle or discompose him, and -was therefore the very man for the place,--"Assuredly, the beard of his -Highness overflows with wisdom; there is but one God." - -This was undeniable, but hardly conclusive; Omar Pasha came again to the -attack. - -"I have made a statement of my wants, and the supplies of arms, -ammunition, and money, that I require. The army is brave, patient, and -faithful; they are the children of the Sultan, and they look to their -father to be fed and clothed. That statement has been forwarded to your -Excellency through the proper channels. When the children ask for bread -and powder to fight the accursed 'Moscov,' what is their general to -reply?" - -"Bakaloum" (we shall see), answered the Seraskier, perfectly unmoved. -"If your Highness's statement has been duly forwarded, doubtless it has -reached our father the Sultan, with the blessing of God. Our father is -all-powerful; may he live for a thousand years." - -Omar Pasha began to lose patience. - -"But have you not seen and read it yourself?" he exclaimed, with rising -colour; "do you not acknowledge the details? do you not know the urgency -of our wants? have you not taken measures for supplying them?" - -The Seraskier was driven into a corner, but his _sang-froid_ did not -desert him for a moment. - -"I have seen the statement," said he, "and it was cleverly and fairly -drawn up. The war is a great war, and it has great requirements. By -the blessing of God, the armies of the faithful will raze the walls of -Sebastopol, and drive the 'Moscov' into the sea. Kismet--it is destiny, -praise be to Allah!" - -"Before I set foot on board ship, before I leave the quay at Tophana, I -must have those supplies shipped and ready to sail," urged Omar Pasha, -now thoroughly roused, and showing his European energy in strong -contrast to the Oriental apathy of the other; "I cannot proceed without -them, I must have them by the end of the month. Orders must be sent out -to-night--will you promise me this?" - -"Bakaloum" (we shall see), replied the Seraskier, and after a few -unmeaning compliments the audience ended, and I accompanied my chief -downstairs into the courtyard of the Seraskerât. - -"And this, my dear Egerton," said he, as he mounted his horse to proceed -to his own quarters, "is one of the many difficulties with which I have -to contend. Nobody knows anything--nobody cares for anything--nobody -_does_ anything. If we had but a Government, if we were not paralysed, -why, with such an army as mine I could have done much. As it is, we are -worse than useless. If the men have no shoes, no powder, no bread, and -I apply to the authorities, as I have done to-day, it is 'Bakaloum'" (we -shall see). "We shall indeed see some fine morning when the troops have -all deserted, or are starved to death in their tents. Every official, -high and low, seems only to look out for himself; what is there for us -but to follow the example? And yet what chances lost! what an army -thrown away!" - -"But the Allies will soon take the place," I remarked, wishing to look -on the bright side of things if possible, "and then our plan of a -campaign is feasible enough. We shall sweep the whole of the Crimea, and -strike him such a blow in Asia as will cripple our old friend the -'Rusky' for many a long day." - -Omar smiled and shook his head. "Too many masters, friend Egerton," he -replied; "too many masters. The strings are pulled in Paris, and -London--ay, and in Vienna too. Diplomatists who do not know their own -business are brought forward to teach us ours, and what is a general to -do? There should be but one head to two hands. Here we have it all the -other way. No, no, it is all 'Bakaloum' together, and we must make the -best of it! I will send for you to-morrow if I want you." - -As he rode away in his long dark overcoat and crimson fez, I looked -after his manly, nervous figure, and thought to myself what a commander -would that have been in any other service in the world. Had he but -chanced to be born a Pole instead of a Croat, would the Danube still -form a line of demarcation between the eagle and its prey? Would the -Sultan be even now basking in beauty and revelling in champagne amongst -the enervating delights of the Seraglio gardens? Would the balance of -power in Europe be still held in equipoise? and the red flag, with its -star and crescent, still flaunt over the thronging masts of the Golden -Horn? - -Several of my old acquaintances crowded round me ere I left the -courtyard of the Seraskerât, welcoming me back to Constantinople, and -eager to learn all the thrilling news of the day; every man believing -every other to be better informed than himself as to all that was going -on in front. I could gratify them but little, as my duty had now for -some considerable period removed me from the scene of active operations. -Truth to tell, I longed ardently to be in the field once more. - -Amongst others, my old comrade, Ali Mesrour, the Beloochee, touched me -on the shoulder, and greeted me with the heartfelt cordiality that no -Asiatic ever assumes save with a fast and well-tried friend. The last -time I had seen him he was engaged with some half-dozen Cossacks on the -heights above Baidar, in the most romantic portion of the Crimea. He -had kept them gallantly at lance's length for more than ten minutes, and -made his escape after all, wounded in two places, and leaving three of -his enemies dismounted on the field. Then he was ragged, jaded, dirty, -and half-starved, for we were all on short rations about that time; now -I should hardly have recognised him, sleek, handsome, and debonair, -dressed, moreover, with unparalleled magnificence, and carrying, as is -the custom of these warriors, all his worldly wealth in the jewelled -hilt of his dagger, the mounting of his pistols, and the costly shawls -that protected his head and wound about his middle. He seized my right -hand, and pressed it to his heart, his eyes, and his forehead; then -poured forth a volume of welcomes in the picturesque language of the -East. - -Could I do less than ask after the welfare of Zuleika, the gallant -animal to whom I owed liberty and life? - -"Allah has preserved her," replied the Beloochee, "and she is now in a -stable not far from this spot. Her skin is sleek and fair; she is still -my soul, and the corner of my heart." - -"May she live a thousand years," was my comment; "to her and her master -I am indebted for being here now. She is one of the best friends I ever -had." - -The Beloochee's eyes sparkled at the recollection. - -"It was a favourable night," he answered, "and destiny was on our side. -The dog of a Cossack! What filth I made him devour! How he rolled in -the dust, and gasped at the kisses of my sharp knife! The Effendi rode -in pain and weakness, but Allah strengthened him. The Effendi can walk -now as well as when he left his mother's side." - -We were strolling together down one of the shady narrow streets that -lead to the water's edge, for I was on my return to Pera, and the -Beloochee, in his delight at meeting his old comrade, would not suffer -me to proceed alone. It was about five o'clock in the afternoon, and -the scorching heat which had reigned all day was at last tempered with -the breeze from the Black Sea. Oh! blessings on that breeze from the -north! Without it how could we have endured the stifling atmosphere of -Roumelia in the dog-days? By one of those wonderful arrangements of -nature, which, after all (being accounted for on natural principles), -would be far more wonderful were they not so, this welcome air began to -blow every day at the same hour. I used to look for it as for the -coming of a friend. If he was not with me at half-past three, he was -sure not to be later than five-and-twenty minutes to four; and when he -did come, I received him with bare brow and open arms. Ere we reached -the bridge, the climate, from being well-nigh unbearable had become -delightful, and all the inhabitants of Constantinople seemed to have -turned out to drink in new life at every pore, and enjoy the unspeakable -refreshment of a lowered temperature, till the dews should fall and the -sun go down. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXII - - A TURK'S HAREM - - -As we neared the water's edge, my companion started and turned perfectly -livid, as if labouring under some fearfully strong emotion. True to his -self-command, however, he allowed no other outward sign to betray his -feelings. In front of us walked a Turkish lady, closely veiled, of -course, and accompanied by a female negro slave. Following the -Beloochee's gaze, I observed by the lady's dress and demeanour that she -was of high rank, and in all probability the property of some great man, -a Pasha at least. At that time a black attendant argued no inferiority -on the part of the mistress as it does now. It is only since the peace -of '56 that the negro woman has been at such a discount in Stamboul as -to fill every corner of the streets with her lamentations, looking in -vain for a purchaser, a master, and a home. - -The cause of this sudden fall in the value of a strong, serviceable -article, which had hitherto commanded a fair and remunerative price, is -to be found as usual in the enterprise of speculators, and the luxurious -tendencies of an unfeeling public. The far-seeing slave-dealers who -provide the Turkish market with Circassian wares had no difficulty in -foretelling that the Treaty of Paris would abandon to their fate those -gallant mountaineers of the Caucasus who have so long and so manfully -struggled for independence from the Russian yoke, and that soon they -must bid an eternal farewell to their lucrative traffic in Circassian -beauty, and their judicious supply of wives for the Pashas of -Constantinople. Accordingly, ere the treaty came into operation, and -the Government of the Czar was authorised to forbid the export of its -new subjects, they proceeded to buy up, far and near, every eligible -young lady of Circassian origin, and forward her as speedily as possible -to the Emporium of Matrimony at Constantinople. Nor was this so hard a -lot for these mountain-daisies as it may at first sight appear. They -are taught to look upon the slave-market of the Turkish capital as the -arena in which they are to contend for the prizes of life--namely, -comfortable quarters, luxurious baths, a house full of slaves, and a -rich master. To be deprived of her season at Stamboul is a bitter -disappointment to a Circassian belle. We in England cannot understand -this. Our fair Anglo-Saxons broil in London through the dog-days simply -and entirely for the exquisite delights of its amusements and its -society. Who ever heard of an English girl going to a ball with any -ulterior view but that of dancing? Who ever detected her paying her -modest court to an elderly Pasha (of the Upper House) for the sake of -having jewels and amber, and gilded arabas and slaves, at her disposal? -Who ever knew a blooming rose of June, that would have made the treasure -of his life to Lazarus, and changed his gloomy dwelling to a bower of -Paradise, transplanted by her own desire to the hothouses of Dives, -there to queen it for a day among all his plants and exotics, and then -pine neglected and withering away? No, no, we know nothing of such -doings, but the trade flourishes handsomely in the East, and -consequently the spring and summer of '56 saw Constantinople literally -_smothered_ in beauty. I use the word advisedly, for an Oriental -enslaver, in the language of Burns, is "a lass who has acres of charms," -and a Pasha purchases his wife as he does his mutton, by the pound. Now, -demand and supply, like action and reaction, are "equal and contrary," -nor is woman more than any other marketable commodity exempt from the -immutable law; so when this invasion of beauty came pouring into -Constantinople, the value even of a Circassian decreased steadily in an -alarming ratio, till a damsel that, in the golden days of gallantry, -would have fetched a hundred and fifty pounds sterling, was now to be -bought "warranted" for five! Mark the sequel. Luxury crept in amongst -the lower classes. The poor Turkish artisan, ambitioning a Circassian -bride, sold his tools, his all--nay, his faithful black wives--to -purchase the unheard-of blessing. The poor negro women were turned -adrift into the streets. Who was to bid for them? During the worst -period of the panic, black women were selling in Constantinople at a -shilling a dozen! - -The Beloochee griped my arm hard. "It is Zuleika!" he whispered between -his set teeth. "She has not seen me--she does not know I am here. -Perhaps she has forgotten me!" - -"Let us follow her," said I, for in truth I sympathised with poor Ali, -and my English blood boiled at the manner in which he had been deprived -of his bride. - -The Beloochee loosened his dagger in its sheath, and drew the folds of -his shawl tighter round his waist. "Effendi," said he, "you are a true -comrade--Bismillah! the end is yet to come." - -The lady and her attendant walked provokingly slow, looking at every -object of curiosity on their way, and making it exceedingly difficult -for us to adapt our pace to theirs without exciting observation in the -passers-by. At length they reached the waterside, and summoning a -caïque, pushed out into the Bosphorus. We were speedily embarked in -another, and following in their wake, our caïgee, or boatman, at once -penetrating our intentions, and entering into the spirit of the thing -with all the fondness for mischief and intrigue so characteristic of his -class. As we glided along over the rippling waters we had ample time to -dispose our plans, the object of which was to give the Beloochee an -opportunity of communicating with his lost love, to learn, and, if -possible, to rescue her from her fate. "Keep close to that caïque," -said I to our sympathising waterman, "and when we are secure from -observation go up alongside." The rascal showed all his white teeth, as -he grinned intelligence and approval. - -So we glided down the beautiful Bosphorus, past marble palaces and -glittering kiosks, till we came under the very walls of a building, more -magnificent than any we had yet passed, with a wide frontage towards the -water, supported on shafts as of smoothest alabaster, the closed -lattices of which, with its air of carefully-guarded seclusion, denoted -the harem of some great dignitary of the empire, who was in the habit of -retiring hither to solace himself after the labours of government and -the cares of state. Through a gate of iron trellis-work, beautifully -designed and wrought, we caught a glimpse of a lovely garden, rich in -gorgeous hues, and sparkling with fountains murmuring soothingly on the -ear, whilst from the lofty doors, securely clamped and barred, wide -steps of marble reached down to the water's edge, lipped and polished by -the lazy ripple of the waves. - -Here we brought our bark alongside the object of our chase, but we had -reckoned without our host in counting on the imperturbability of a -lady's nerves, for no sooner had the Beloochee turned his face towards -Zuleika, and whispered a few short syllables straight from his heart, -than with a loud shriek she tossed her hands wildly above her head, and -fainted dead away in the bottom of the caïque. - -At that instant the boat's nose touched the lower step of the palace, -and the negro woman, almost as helpless as her mistress, began screaming -loudly for assistance, whilst a guard of blacks opening the huge double -doors came swarming down to the water's edge, scowling ominously at the -Beloochee and myself, who with our mischievous boatman had now shoved -off and remained at some distance from the shore. - -There was but one thing to be done, and that quickly. "_Hakim!_" I -shouted to the blacks, who were bearing the lifeless form of the girl up -the palace steps; "I am a doctor, do you want my assistance?" and at the -same time I handed my pencil-case and the back of a letter to my -comrade. Alas! he could not write, but in a hurried whisper entreated -me, if possible, to communicate with Zuleika, and bear her the message -which he confided to me from his old and faithful love. - -By dint of threats and a kick or two, I prevailed on my friend the -caïgee, who began to think the fun was getting too hot for him, to pull -ashore; and boldly mounting the steps, I informed the chief of the -harem-guard authoritatively that I was a physician, and that if the -Khanum's (lady's) life was to be saved, not a moment must be lost. She -was evidently a favourite wife of her lord, for her fainting-fit seemed -to have caused much commotion in the household, and during his absence -the major-domo of the harem took upon himself, not without many -misgivings and much hesitation, to admit me, a Giaour and a _man_, -within the sacred and forbidden precincts. - -The Turks have a superstitious reverence for the science of medicine, -which they believe, and not without reason, to be practised by the -Franks more successfully than by themselves. To my adoption of the -character of a _Hakim_ I owed my present immunity and my entrance into -that sanctum of a Turk's house, which it is considered indecorous even -to _mention_ in conversation with its master. - -I do not lay claim to more courage than my neighbours, and I confess it -was with a beating heart that I followed the helpless form of Zuleika -borne by her swarthy attendants up the palace steps, through the massive -doors which swung and closed behind me, as if to shut out all chance of -escape, to find myself at the top of a handsome staircase, on the very -threshold of the women's apartment. What confusion my entrance created! -Shrieks and jeers and stifled laughter resounded on all sides, whilst -black eyes flashed inquiring glances at the Frankish doctor, veiled, -indeed, but scarcely dimmed by the transparent folds of the _yashmak_, -and loosely-clad forms, in all the colours of the rainbow, flitted -hither and thither, with more demonstration of activity than the -occasion seemed to warrant. - -I had heard much of the discipline of these caged birds, and pictured to -myself, with sympathising pity, their isolated condition, cut off from -friends and relatives, weighed down by all the fetters of wedlock, but -denied the consolations of domestic happiness, and had imagined that the -Turkish woman was probably the most unhappy of all the daughters of Eve. -What a deal of commiseration thrown away! Perhaps no woman in the world -is more completely her own mistress in her own way than is the wife of a -Turkish dignitary. Habit reconciles her to the veil, which indeed is of -the thinnest material, and is almost her only restriction. She can walk -abroad for business or pleasure, attended by only one female slave, and -with such a convoy comes and goes unquestioned. It is only of very late -years that an English lady could walk through the streets of London -without at least as efficient a guard. The Oriental beauty, too, has -her own hours, and her own apartments. Even her lord himself, he whom -we picture as a turbaned Blue-beard, despotic in his own household, the -terror of his wives and servants, preserves a chivalrous etiquette -towards the lady that adorns his harem. He does not venture to cross -the threshold of her apartment should he find her slippers placed -outside. It is a signal that he is not wanted, and nothing would induce -him to be guilty of such an act of rudeness as to go in. He comes at -stated times, and his visits are always preceded by due notice. He -lavishes handsome presents on his departure, and when he is unable to -sun himself in the sight of her beauty, in consequence of his other -engagements, and the rest of the suns in whose rays it is his duty to -bask, he provides her with caïques and _arabas_ to take her abroad, and -furnishes her with plenty of pin-money to spend in the delightful -occupation of shopping. - -The chief of the negro-guard looked wistfully at me as I accompanied -him, rolling the whites of his eyes in evident uncertainty and -perturbation. As, however, Zuleika was still senseless, it seemed -absolutely necessary that I should prescribe for her before my -departure, and, accordingly, he motioned me to follow the stout blacks -who were carrying her into the very inner recesses of the harem. - -As I passed through those luxuriously-furnished apartments, I could not -refrain from casting many a curious glance around at the diverse -implements and accessories of the Turkish toilette, the many devices -practised here, as in all lands, by the ladies, to "keep them beautiful -or leave them neat." Costly shawls, silks from India, muslins like the -web of a gossamer, and brocades stiff and gorgeous as cloth of gold, -were scattered about in unlimited profusion, mixed with amber beads, -massive gold chains, necklaces, bracelets, and anklets, French watches -set to Turkish time, precious stones of every value and hue, sandal-wood -fans, and other rare knick-knacks, mixed up with the most insignificant -articles one can imagine, such as card-racks, envelope-cases of -papier-maché, small brushes with oval mirrors at the back, and all sorts -of trifles sent out from Paris, and bought in Pera, to amuse those -grown-up children. The rooms were lofty and spacious, but the -casements, even those that overlooked the gardens, jealously closed, and -the lattices almost impervious even to the cool northern breeze. -Bath-rooms opened from either side of the apartments, and every -appliance for that Turkish luxury was of the most complete kind. At -length we reached the room appropriated to Zuleika's especial use, and -as her bearers laid her on the divan I observed that in this, more than -in any other apartment of the palace, luxury reigned supreme. I argued -Zuleika must be, at least for the present, the reigning favourite and -queen of the seraglio. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIII - - MY PATIENT - - -"With the blessing of Allah! rub the palms of her hands with saffron!" - -"Allah-Illah! Allah-Illah!--tickle the soles of her feet with -feathers!" - -"It is destiny! In the name of the Prophet pour cold water down her -back!" "Room for the Frankish _Hakim_!" "May dogs defile the grave of -the Giaour!" - -Such were the exclamations that followed me into the apartment of -Zuleika; for the Moslem daughters of Eve are not exempt from the -curiosity attributed by tradition to the common mother; and have, -moreover, superinduced on that pardonable failing certain prejudices of -their own against the Christian unbeliever, whom, even when availing -themselves of his assistance, they do not scruple to curse fluently, -spitting the while between their teeth with considerable energy and -effect. - -Pending the application of their customary remedies, which in my -ignorance of fainting-fits I judged to be the professional course of -treatment, the ladies of the harem crowded and chatted at the door, -peering over each other's shoulders, advancing a step into the -apartment, retiring in confusion with a giggle and a scream, flirting -atrociously with their negro guards--men of ebony without and ice -within, as indeed they had need be--and otherwise to the best of their -abilities increasing the general confusion. - -One alone came boldly forward to my assistance; venerable she was, but a -dame whom age, though it had deprived her of charms, had not robbed of -the enchanting timidity of youth. - -In her efforts to assist the sufferer she had cast her veil aside, but -true to Oriental modesty she scrupulously covered her mouth[#] (and a -very black set of teeth) with her hand even while she addressed me. -Authoritative in her manner, and evidently accustomed to despotic sway -in this part of the establishment, I confess I sincerely pitied the -Pasha to whom this energetic lady must for several years have belonged. -She came close up to me, tore the _yashmak_ from Zuleika's face, and -exclaimed in tones which admitted of no dispute-- - - -[#] A curious custom peculiar to the sex all over the East. The veil, -indeed, seems only adopted as a screen for the mouth, since the eyes are -suffered to flash undimmed by its transparent folds. Should a Turkish -woman be surprised by chance without her _yashmak_, she immediately -claps her hand to her lips, and so remains till the male stranger has -passed by. - - -"Bring otto of roses to anoint our dove; strip her at once from head to -foot; and kick the Giaour downstairs!" - -It was now time to assume a certain amount of dignified authority. I -waved away the uncompromising old lady with the air of a magician -dismissing his familiar; I ordered the lattice to be immediately thrown -open--fortunately it looked towards the east, which was considered much -to enhance the virtue of the breeze that stole through its aperture--and -taking advantage of the returning animation which dawned on Zuleika's -countenance, I repeated an incantation in English--if I remember right -it was the negro melody of "_Oh, Susannah!_" accompanying the monotonous -tones with appropriate gestures, until my patient opened her languishing -black eyes, glanced heavily around her, and sitting upright on her -couch, announced herself completely recovered. - -My popularity was now at the flood. Had I administered the simple -remedies which I have since been informed are beneficial in such cases, -I should, however successful, have been looked upon merely in the light -of a common practitioner; but that the lady should recover to the tones -of a popular air, accompanied by a deportment of ludicrous solemnity, -constituted a success which stamped me at once as a proficient in the -Black Art, and won for me unqualified obedience and respect, not wholly -devoid of fear. - -To take advantage of the happy moment, I pulled my watch from my pocket, -and placing my finger on the patient's wrist, bid the imperious dame -aforesaid remark how the pulsations corresponded with the ticks of that -instrument. This, too, was a great discovery, and the watch was handed -round for examination to all the curious inmates of the harem in turn. - -I then ordered the room to be cleared, and insisted that I should be -left alone with my patient until the minute-hand of my watch had reached -the favourable hour. - -This I knew would give me five minutes' conversation with Zuleika, and -as I expected the Pasha home at every instant, I could not afford more -than this short space of time to give my friend the Beloochee's message -and plead his cause. The room was speedily cleared, not, however, -without much laughing, screaming, and scuffling in the passage. As soon -as I was alone with Zuleika, I whispered gently in her ear not to be -afraid, but to trust me, as I came from him she loved best in the world. - -The girl started, and began to tremble violently; she was so pale that I -dreaded another fainting-fit, and the consequent destruction of my -reputation as a doctor. Though an Arab, she was a _woman_; and at this -crisis of her destiny was of course paralysed by fear and totally -incapable of acting for herself. Had her emotion mastered her once -more, the golden opportunity would have been lost; there was nothing for -it but to work upon her feelings, and I proceeded in a tone of -indifference-- - -"You have forgotten him. He bids me say that 'the rose has been -transplanted into a garden of purer air and cooler streams; he has seen -with his own eyes that she is blooming and fragrant, and he is -satisfied. He rejoices in your happiness, and bids you farewell!'" - -She burst into a flood of tears; her woman's heart was touched, as I -hoped it would be, by the sentiment I had put into her lover's mouth, -and the relief thus afforded brought her composure and self-command. -She came of a race, too, that never lacked courage or fortitude, and the -wild desert-blood soon mantled once more in her rich, soft cheek--the -tameless spirit of the Bedouin soon flashed again from her large dark -eyes. - -"Effendi!" she replied, in a firm though mournful voice, "my father's -daughter can never forget. Bid him think no more of the rose he -cherished so fondly. She has been plucked from the stem, and now she is -drooping and withering away." - -"But Allah suffers not the flowers to perish," I proceeded in Oriental -metaphor, while she clasped her slender hands and seemed to look through -me with her glittering eyes. "He sends the dews from heaven to refresh -them at night. A wild bird will sing to the rose before dawn, and she -will open her petals and bloom once more fresh and glistening in the -morning sun. Zuleika, have you completely forgotten Ali Mesrour?" - -At the sound of his name a soft, saddened expression stole over her -eager face, large drops gathered in her drooping eyelashes, and it was -with a thrilling voice that she replied--"Never! never! once more to see -him, only once more to hear his voice, and so to die! so to die!" she -repeated, looking dreamily as if into the hopeless future. - -"It is destiny," was my answer. "There is but one Allah! An hour -before dawn there will be a caïque at the garden gate. Zuleika must -contrive the rest. The risk is great, but 'the diver cannot fetch -pearls without wetting his hair.' Will Zuleika promise?" - -"I promise!" was all she had time to reply, for at this instant no -slight commotion was heard in the household, and looking from the -casement I perceived an eight-oared caïque brought alongside of the -palace steps, from which a pipe-bearer springing rapidly ashore, -followed by a more sedate personage, evidently a _kiâtib_, or secretary, -heralded the great man of the party, who, emerging from the shade of a -white silk umbrella, hitherto held carefully over him by a third -official, now laboured majestically up the marble steps, pausing -occasionally to draw a long breath, and looking around him the while -with an air of corpulent satisfaction that no one but a Turk could -imitate with the slightest prospect of success. - -It was indeed the Pasha himself--the fortunate possessor of the -magnificent dwelling, the owner of all these negro slaves, this gorgeous -retinue, these beautiful women--and more still, the lord and master of -poor Zuleika. I thought it better to meet him on the threshold than to -risk his astonishment and displeasure by awaiting his entrance into the -harem; accordingly I hurried down to the court-yard of his palace, and -presented myself before him with a mixture of Eastern courtesy and -European self-respect, such as never fails to impress a Turk with the -feeling that in the presence of a Frank he is himself but of an inferior -order of mankind. - -"Salaam, Effendi!" was the observation of the proprietor, as polite and -unmoved as if he had expected me all day. "You are welcome! My house -with all it contains is at your disposal!" He motioned me courteously -into a large, handsome apartment on the ground-floor of the palace, bid -me to be seated, and clapping his palms together, called for pipes and -coffee; then placing himself comfortably on the divan, he crossed his -hands over his stomach, and repeated, "You are welcome!" after which he -sat perfectly silent, nodding his head from side to side, and peering -curiously at me out of his small, twinkling grey eyes. - -He was an enormously fat man, buttoned up of course into the usual -single-breasted frock-coat, on the outside of which glittered the -diamond order of the Medjidjie. His huge, shapeless legs were encased -in European trousers of the widest dimensions, and terminated in -varnished Wellington boots, from which he had just cast off a pair of -india-rubber goloshes. It was the modern Turkish costume, affected by -the Sultan himself, and a dress so ill-adapted for the dog-days at -Constantinople can hardly be imagined; yet every official, every -dignitary, every military man, is now clad in these untoward -habiliments, for which they have discarded the picturesque draperies of -their ancestors; so that the fine old Turk, "shawled to the eyes, and -bearded to the nose," is only to be seen in Stamboul amongst the learned -professions and the inferior orders of tradesmen and mechanics. A red -fez was the single characteristic article of clothing worn by the Pasha; -and a more villainous expression of countenance than that which it -overshadowed, it has seldom been my lot to confront. We stared at each -other without speaking. It would have been ill-bred on the part of my -host to ask me what I wanted, and I should have been guilty of an equal -solecism in entering on my business until I had partaken of the -customary refreshment. - -Coffee was ere long brought in by negro slaves armed to the teeth, and -of savage, scowling aspect. It was served in delicate filigree cups, -set with priceless diamonds. Long chibouques were then filled and -lighted. As I pressed the pure amber to my lips, and inhaled the -fragrant aroma of the narcotic weed, I resolved to brazen it out -manfully; but never, never again to find myself in such another scrape, -no, not for all the warriors in Beloochistan, nor all the "Zuleikas" -that ever eloped with them from the desert. - -I thought I would say nothing of my visit to the harem. I judged, and -rightly, that neither the ladies themselves, nor the negro-guard, whose -duty it was to watch over those caged birds, would be over anxious to -communicate the breach of discipline which had just been enacted, and -that, although the secret was sure to ooze out in the course of a day or -two, it was needless to anticipate the turmoil and disturbance which -would attend its discovery. - -But what excuse to make for my ill-timed visit? How to account for my -intrusion on the leisure of so great a man as Papoosh Pasha, one of the -half-dozen highest dignitaries of the empire, the friend and counsellor -of the Sultan himself, even then fresh from the sacred precincts of the -Seraglio Palace, where he had been helping sundry other ponderous Pashas -to mismanage the affairs of his country, and to throw dust in the eyes -of the enervated voluptuary who held the reins of power in a sadly -palsied grasp. I too must take a leaf out of the book of Asiatic -duplicity. I had seen a ship full of wounded dropping her anchor as I -came along; there must have been another attack on the stronghold at -Sebastopol--I was pretty safe in surmising, with no satisfactory result. -I would pretend then that I had been sent to inform his Excellency of -the particulars, and accordingly I puffed forth a volume of pure white -smoke towards the ceiling, and advanced under cover of the discharge. - -"His Highness has sent me hither in haste to inform your Excellency of -the great news from the front. Am I too late to be the fortunate -bearer, or has your Excellency already heard the particulars from the -Elshie?"[#] - - -[#] The ambassador. - - -He darted a keen, suspicious glance at me, and replied gravely enough, -"The war goes on prosperously in the front. We shall yet sweep 'the -Moscov' from the face of the earth!" - -"I am desired to inform your Excellency," I resumed, determined to -persevere at all hazards, "that the Allies have again attacked the -place. The Moscov came out in great numbers to repel the assault; the -French have suffered severely; the Turkish troops covered the retreat -with great gallantry and steadiness; fifteen hundred Russians remained -dead upon the field; many more are disabled; Sebastopol must surrender -within ten days." - -"Mashallah!" replied the Pasha, laying his pipe down by his side; but -for the life of me I could not make out whether or not he believed a -word I had been telling him. - -"Have I fulfilled my duty to your Excellency?" I continued, becoming -every moment more and more anxious to make my escape. "I am at your -Excellency's disposal; I am the humblest of your slaves. Have I your -permission to depart?" - -He looked uneasily around, but there seemed no apparent excuse for -delay. It was evident to me that he wished to communicate with his -retainers, but that his politeness forbade him to do so in my presence, -and a Turk never allows any emergency to make him forget the exigencies -of etiquette. He bade me farewell with much cordiality, ordered a horse -to be got ready to carry me home, and dismissed me with many expressions -of affection, but with the same fierce twinkle in that cunning leaden -eye that had already more than once warned me to beware. - -Many and devoted were the Pasha's retainers; hundreds slept on his mats, -and followed at his heels, but I question whether I, the poor nameless -Interpreter, could not command a greater amount of affection, courage, -and fidelity, in the breast of my one trusty four-footed slave and -companion, than existed in the whole retinue, black and white, of the -Oriental dignitary. - -Bold had followed me through my wanderings, faced with me many of the -dangers of warfare, and shared in all its privations. The old dog was -getting very time-worn now, quite grizzled about the muzzle, and -ludicrously solemn, both in countenance and demeanour. To the world in -general his temper was anything but conciliatory, and it required little -provocation to make him set his mark on man or beast that affronted him; -but with me he was always the same, obedient, devoted, and affectionate. -He accompanied me everywhere, and would wait for hours in the -court-yards of the Seraskerât or the Embassy, till his master emerged -from the long-watched portal, when he would rise, give himself a lazy -shake, and stalk on gravely by my side, occasionally thrusting his wet -cold nose into my hand, and scowling at all strangers, even of his own -species, with a very ominous "_noli me tangere_" expression, that -forbade the slightest approach to familiarity. - -Now the dog is an unclean animal to the Mussulman, and although his life -is spared, as being the authorised scavenger of the streets, the true -disciple of the Prophet scrupulously shuns all contact with the brute -that the Christian loves to train as a servant and cherish as a friend. -There is a curious old Arabic legend, which, although not to be found in -the Koran, is recognised by the faithful as a trustworthy tradition, and -to believe in which is esteemed an essential point of doctrine by the -devout, that accounts for this unkindly superstition. Freely translated, -it runs much in the following fashion:-- - -"When Allah had created the land and the sea, the mountains, the -forests, the flowers, and the precious stones, he looked, and behold -there was beauty and silence all over the earth. - -"Then Allah created the birds and the beasts and the fishes; all things -that swim, and creep, and fly, and run, and every living thing rejoiced -in the sunshine. - -"So Allah rested from his work in the Garden of Eden, by the Four -Rivers, and looked around him, and behold the whole earth was astir in -the forepart of the day. - -"Then the breeze blew, and the waters laughed and rippled, and the birds -sang, and the blossoms fell. - -"So the angels smiled, and said, Praise be to Allah. It is very -good--Allah! Bismillah! - -"Then Allah saw that there were none of the inhabitants of earth that -could smile as the angels smiled, or walk erect and praise him with the -face to heaven. - -"For the steed was grazing downward, and the lion lay couched in his -lair, and the eagle, though she turned her eye to the sun, had neither -praise nor smile. - -"Then Allah took clay, and moistened it, and fashioned it till the sun -went down. - -"And Allah rested from his work, and left it in the Garden of Eden, by -the Great Tree, where the Four Rivers spring. - -"Now Gabriel walked in the garden, and he stopped where the work of -Allah lay plastic on the sward, and the star shone bright on his -forehead, for he praised Allah in his heart. - -"And Shaitán came to walk in the garden, to cool his brow, and he -stopped over against Gabriel and mocked. - -"And Shaitán said, 'What is this, that I may know it, and name it, and -claim my share in it for my own?' - -"And Gabriel answered, 'Praise be to Allah; who has made all things -well. This is Allah's work, and it shall be the perfection of all. -Bismillah!' - -"Then Shaitán laughed once more, and he turned the image over with his -foot, so that it stood on all fours, with its face to the dust, and spat -upon it, and said, 'It is empty! On my eyes be it!' - -"And in the morning there was silence in Eden, for the work of Allah had -been defiled. - -"And Allah said, 'This is the doing of Shaitán. Behold, I will make of -it yet another brute, and it shall be called the Dog, and be accursed. - -"'And I will take other clay, and fashion another image that shall smile -as the angels smile, and walk erect with its face to heaven, and I will -call it Man.' - -"And Shaitán cowered behind the Great Tree and listened to the voice of -Allah, and though he trembled, he smiled. - -"For Shaitán knew that he would have his share in the Man as in the -beast." - -Poor Bold, unconscious of his excommunication, hurried up to me in the -court-yard of the Pasha's palace, where a fine horse, richly -caparisoned, was being brought alongside the mounting-block for my use. -In doing so the dog's tail, waving to greet his master, touched the hand -of a tall forbidding-looking negro that stood by, grinning from ear to -ear, as is the custom of his countrymen. The black swore a great oath, -and kicked my dog savagely in the jaws. As Bold pinned him by the leg, -I caught him such a buffet under the ear as knocked him fairly into the -dust; from which abject position he embraced my feet and called me "his -father." With some little difficulty I rated Bold off his prostrate -foe, and mounting my horse, or rather the Pasha's, rode quietly to my -hotel, where I dismissed the steed, and the groom who had accompanied -him on foot, with a "_baksheesh_," and thought nothing more of the -transaction. "A word and a blow" is as common a proceeding in -Constantinople as at Donnybrook fair, though it leads to far different -results; inasmuch as in the former abode of despotic authority and -slavish submission it is very generally the only argument that is -capable of enforcing proper subordination and respect. - -It is seldom that a man loses his temper, even under the greatest -provocation, without having cause, sooner or later, to regret his want -of self-command. There are few of our fellow-creatures so unimportant -that it is not worth while to conciliate them, none that may not some -time have it in their power to inflict on us an injury; besides, an -angry man is only less contemptible than a frightened one. And, like -everything else that is unchristianlike, it is surely ungentlemanlike to -put oneself in a passion. There was not much in knocking down a negro -slave for his brutality towards my favourite, yet, ere long, I had cause -bitterly to rue that I had not let him alone. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIV - - "MESSIRIE'S" - - -A narrow street, paved with the roughest and sharpest of flints, -debouching into three other streets even less commodious than itself; a -Turkish sentry dozing torpid at his post--half-a-dozen _hamauls_[#] clad -in rough frieze jackets, and wide pantaloons of the same material, -gathered in at the knee, scratching their brown herculean legs, and -examining their broad flat feet, as they recline against a dirty dead -wall, and interchange their jests with a degree of humour foreign to our -English ideas of Turkish gravity--a rascally-looking dragoman in a black -frock-coat and a fez, rolling a cigarette, prepared to cheat, rob, -swindle, or lie at the shortest notice, a slave to every sensual vice -except drunkenness, and speaking all the languages on earth in bad -Italian--a brace of English Jack-tars, afire with raki, trolling out -"Cheer, boys, cheer," and a stray Zouave, equally exhilarated, joining -in chorus; a T.G., or travelling gent, with nascent beard, and towel -wound turban-wise around his straw-hat, wishing himself in Pall Mall, -and indignant at the natives, who call him "_Johnny_." - - -[#] Porters. - - -The REAL thing from the Crimea, in a curiously worn-out shell jacket, -patched and darned, stained and tarnished, with a bronzed face, a bushy -beard of two years' growth, and a slight limp that for the rest of his -life will bid him "remember the fifth of November," and the turning of -the tide upon the declivity of Inkermann. - -Two or three English merchants, like crows, to be seen all over the -world, and everywhere in the same dress, with white shirts, and honest -broad-cloth coats, that remind one of home; a Queen's messenger, with -tweed shooting-jacket and official forage-cap, clean shaved and -clear-looking, after the bad passage and gale of wind he is sure at all -seasons to encounter in the Mediterranean, a miracle to us _habitués_ of -the place, being actually as fresh from London as yonder copy of _The -Times_ newspaper, which came with him by the same mail, the only -unfeathered biped in creation that thoroughly carries out the idea of -"Here to-day, gone to-morrow." Such are the concomitants of the scene -upon which I enter at the door of Messirie's hotel, that well-known -rendezvous in Pera where congregate all that have any connection with -the mother country; a place where every rumour is to be heard with its -latest embellishments, and where, for the sum of seventeen francs a day, -I can command a moderate breakfast, a dinner into the components of -which it is better not to inquire, and a murky bedroom, where the fierce -mosquito shall drain my life-blood all the weary night. - -"Is Major Manners in the hotel?" I inquire, as I throw myself off the -Pasha's horse, and, glancing at a face in the street very like that of -the man I knocked down some three-quarters of an hour ago, reflect what -a family resemblance reigns amongst the wretched sons of Ham. Bold is in -his worst of humours, and growls ominously. "Is Major Manners here?" I -repeat, and three Greek servants, with an abortive attempt to pronounce -the Frankish name, shrug their shoulders and open their hands to express -the hopeless imbecility in which they rejoice. I perceive a stout man -in a white hat, picking his teeth unconcernedly in the passage, and, -recognising him for the master, I apply at once for the information I -require. He looks contemptuously at me in reply, and, turning his broad -back upon me, walks off without deigning to take any further notice of a -customer; but I have been here before, and I know there is balm in -Gilead. I know that in a certain little room on the left I shall find -the hostess, and that she, the mainstay and prop of the establishment, -will spare no pains to assist a countryman. Kindly Madame Messirie! -always ready to aid one in a difficulty, always busy, always -good-humoured, always so thoroughly English, it was quite refreshing to -hear the tones of your homely voice, and fancy oneself in the "White -Lion," or the "Blue Bear," or some other pleasant hostelry, with -post-horses and a bar, and an ostler's bell, far away in merry England. - -"Vere Egerton! can that be you?" said a voice that I thought I -recognised, as I entered the sanctum in which the hostess reigned -supreme. "Little Egerton, as I'm alive, growed out of knowledge, and -doubtless by this time a Pasha with three tails, and a true believer. -Tell me all about the process of conversion and the tenets of your -faith." - -It was indeed Ropsley,--Ropsley the Guardsman--Ropsley the dandy, but -how altered! The attenuated _roué_ of former days had grown large and -muscular, his face was brown and healthy, his forehead frank and open, -the clear grey eye was brighter and quicker than it used to be; it had -caught the ready, eager glance of those who look death habitually in the -face, but had lost much of the cruel, calculating, leaden expression I -remembered so well. Despite his worn-out uniform, the rents in which -showed here and there a red flannel shirt,--despite his close-cropped -hair and flowing beard,--I could not but confess to myself, as I grasped -his hand, that Ropsley looked ten years younger and ten times handsomer -than when I saw him last. - -Yes, I met him cordially, and as an old friend. 'Tis true he had been -my greatest enemy, 'tis true he had inflicted on me a wound, the scar of -which I felt I should carry to my grave; but months had passed away -since then; months which, crowding events upon events, had seemed like -years; months of danger, labour, hardship, and tribulation. Of what -avail is suffering if it does not soften and purify the heart? Why are -those that mourn blessed, if it is not that they learn the bitter lesson -grief alone can teach? My task had been a hard one--how hard none knew -save the poor humbled scholar who conned it day by day, and blistered -the page with his tears; but I had conquered it at last, and so I freely -forgave Ropsley, and clasped him by the hand. - -"You dine here, of course," he said, in his old half-humorous, -half-sarcastic voice. "Madame Messirie, princess of Pera, and queen of -my soul, order a place to be set for my friend the Pasha, and lots of -champagne to be put in ice. I have only just come down from the front; -I have scarcely had a decent dinner, or seen a silver fork, for a year -and a half. It's an endless business, this, Egerton; hammer, hammer, -hammer, yet nothing comes of it, and the old place looks whiter and more -inviting than ever, but we _can't get in_!" - -"And the Mamelon?" said I, eager for the last news from the spot to -which millions of hearts were reaching, all athirst for hope. - -"Got it at last," was his reply, "at least, our neighbours have; I hope -they'll keep it. We made a sad mess last week, Egerton; lost no end of -men, and half our best officers. Whew! I say nothing, only mark my -words, if ever--but there's the bell! Never mind the siege now. War's a -mistake, but dinner (if you can get it) never deceives you." And so -saying, the _ci-devant_ dandy patted me on the back, and pushed me -before him into the well-lighted and now crowded _salon_. - -In that strange country, so thoroughly Asiatic, which we call Turkey in -Europe, there were so few links to connect us with the life of -civilisation which seemed to have passed from us like a dream, that it -was no wonder we clung to Messirie's hotel and thronged its _table -d'hôte_ with a constancy and devotion less to be attributed to its own -intrinsic merits than to the associations and reminiscences it called -forth. Here were to be met all the gallant fellows who were going to, -or coming from, the front. Heroes, whose names were destined to gild -the page of history, might here be seen drinking bad tea and complaining -of the butter like ordinary mortals; but always in the highest spirits, -as men seem invariably to be during the short lulls of a campaign. When -you are likely to be shot next Monday week, if you have small hopes, you -have few anxieties. Here, too, you might sit opposite a diplomatist, -who was supposed to know the innermost secrets of the court at Vienna, -and to be advised of what "the Austrians meant to do," whilst rubbing -shoulders with you as he helped himself to fish; and confronting the man -of ciphers, some heroic refugee, Pole, Croat, or Hungarian, whose name -was in every journal in Europe, as it was inscribed on every military -post in Austria or Russia, munched away with a capital appetite, and -appeared only conspicuous for the extreme modesty and gentleness of his -demeanour. Contractors of every nation jabbered in every language, nor -was the supple Armenian, grafting the bold spirit of European -speculation on his own Oriental duplicity, wanting to grasp his share of -the plunder, which John Bull was so magnanimously offering as a premium -to every description of fraud. Even the softer sex was not without its -representatives. Two or three high-born English ladies, whose loving -hearts had brought them hovering as near the seat of war as it was -possible for a non-combatant to venture, daily shed the light of their -presence at the dinner-table, and were silently welcomed by many a bold -spirit with a degree of chivalrous enthusiasm, of which, anxious and -pre-occupied, they were but little aware. A man must have been living -for months among men, must have felt his nature gradually brutalising -amidst the hardships, the sufferings, and the horrors of war, thoroughly -to appreciate the softening influence of a woman's, and especially of a -_countrywoman's_, society. Even to look on those waving white dresses, -those gentle English faces, with their blooming cheeks and rich brown -hair, was like a draught of water to a pilgrim in a weary land. It -reminded us of home--of those we loved--and we went our way back into -the desert a thought saddened, perhaps, yet, for all that, kindlier and -happier men. - -"What a meeting!" exclaimed Manners, as, gorgeously arrayed in the -splendours of a full-dress uniform, he took his seat by my side and -shook hands with Ropsley, who returned his greeting with a cordial -pressure and a look of quiet amusement in his eye that almost upset my -gravity: "Everdon at Constantinople!" continued our former usher; "we -only want De Rohan to make our gathering quite perfect!" - -I winced, and for the first time in my life I saw Ropsley colour, but -Manners was too much occupied to notice the emotion of either of us; -for, during his many visits to Constantinople, the dashing officer of -Bashi-Bazouks had made such numerous acquaintances, and become so -necessary an ingredient in the society of Pera, that there seemed to be -hardly an individual at table, from the _attaché_ of the Embassy down to -the last-joined officer of the Commissariat, with whom he was not on -terms of intimate familiarity. He had scarcely taken his seat and -unfolded his dinner-napkin, ere the cross-fire of greetings and -inquiries began. Manners, too, in the sunshine of all his popularity, -had expanded into a wag; and although his witticisms were of a somewhat -profound order, and not always very apparent to the superficial -observer, they were generally well received; for a wag was a scarcer -article in Constantinople than at the front. - -So Manners proceeds with his dinner in great satisfaction and glory. -After a couple of glasses of champagne he becomes overpoweringly -brilliant. He is good enough, too, to take upon himself the onerous -task of drilling the waiters, which he affects in bad French, and of -abusing the deficiencies of the _cuisine_; a topic affording, indeed, -ample scope for declamation. The waiters, especially a cunning old -Greek, with a most villainous expression of countenance, betray an -immense respect for Manners, tinged with an amused sort of amazement, -and always help him first. - -They bring him a dish of hare, large of limb and venerable in point of -years. Our Bashi-Bazouk exclaims indignantly, "_Qu'est que ça?_" - -"_C'est un lièvre, M'sieur_," replies the waiter, with a forced smile, -as of one who expects a jest he will not comprehend. - -"_C'est un chat!_" gasps out Manners, glaring indignantly on the -official. - -"_Pardon, M'sieur,_" says the waiter, "_c'est trop gros pour un chat._" - -"_Chat_," repeats Manners; "_Chat_ THOMAS!" he adds, in a sepulchral -voice, and with a frowning brow. The waiter shrinks abashed, the -company laugh, and Manners's observation counts for a joke. - -By this time conversation begins to buzz pretty freely around. -Everybody drinks champagne, and tongues soon become loosened by the -exhilarating fluid. Various topics are discussed, including a new -beauty that has just arrived from Smyrna, of French extraction, and -supposed to possess a fortune that sounds perfectly fabulous when -calculated in francs. Manners listens attentively, for he has not -totally abandoned the idea of combining the excitement of war with the -pursuit of beauty--properly gilded, of course--and his maxim is that -"None but the brave deserve the fair." Her praises, however, as also -her name and address, are intercepted by the voluble comments of two -stout gentlemen, his neighbours, on the utter incapacity of the Turkish -Government, and the hopeless imbecility of "the people of this unhappy -country, Sir,--a people without a notion of progress---destined to -decay, Sir, from the face of the earth," as the stouter of the two, a -British merchant, who is about investing in land here, remarks to his -neighbour, a jovial Frenchman, who has already bought many a fertile -acre in the neighbourhood of Constantinople, under the new -Hatti-Sheriff;[#] and who replies, fixing his napkin securely in his -button-hole-- - - -[#] An act empowering foreigners to hold land in Turkey. - - -"_Pourri, voyez-vous, mon cher. Crac! ça ne durera pas trois ans._" - -Opposite these worthies, an ensign in the Guards, and the Queen's -messenger, who is of a theatrical turn, are busy with the character, -private as well as professional, of a certain star of the Opera, whom -the latter has already criticised in the execution of his duty at -Vienna, and an ardent desire to hear whom haunts the former enthusiast -to such a degree, even in the very trenches, that he longs to attack and -take Sebastopol single-handed, in order to get home again before she -leaves London for the winter. The Turkish Ministry, changing as it does -about once a week; the policy of Austria; the Emperor Napoleon's energy; -the inefficiency of our own Commissariat; the ludicrous blunders of the -War Office, and the last retort courteous of Lord Stratford, all come in -for their share of remark from prejudiced observers of every party and -every opinion; but by degrees one voice rises louder than the rest, one -individual attracts the notice of the whole dinner-table, and nowise -abashed, but rather encouraged by the attention he commands, details -volubly his own account of the capture of the Mamelon. He is a -Frenchman, and a civilian, but somehow he has a red ribbon on his -breast, and belongs to the Legion of Honour, so he "assisted," as he -calls it, at the attack; and if he speaks truth, it must indeed have -been an awful sight, and one in which his countrymen outdid themselves -for valour, and that quality peculiar to the soldiers of France which -they term _élan_, a word it is hopeless to think of translating. His -opinions are decided, if not satisfactory; his plan of storming the -place an excellent one, if it could only be carried out. - -"We have taken the Mamelon!" says he, "and what remains? Bah! The -Malakhoff Tower is the key to the whole position. What would you have? -Every simple soldier in the army knows it as well as you and I do. I -tell you I 'assisted' at the capture of the _Mamelon Vert_. They -received us with a fire, well sustained, of grape and small arms. Our -ammunition failed us at the critical moment. I was in the -ditch--_me!_--when the Zouaves came on with their yell--the 152nd of the -line were in front of them. It must be carried with the -bayonet!--_Pflan!_--our little red pantaloons were swarming up the work -and over the parapet ere you could count ten--the tricolor was hoisted -and the guns spiked in a twinkling--that is the only way to arrange -these affairs. Now, see here--you have your Redan, you others--you have -sapped up to it, as near as you can get. There must be a combined -attack. You cannot hold it till we have silenced that little rogue of a -Malakhoff. What to do? One of these '_four mornings_,' as it was with -the Mamelon so will it be with the Malakhoff! Give me a thick column, -with the Zouaves in front and rear. These are not follies. I advance -my column under cover--I pour in a volley!--I rush on with the bayonet! -At the same moment the Redan falls. Your Guards and Scotchmen run in -with their heads, a thousand cannon support you with their fire, the -Allies hold the two most important defences, the Garden Batteries are -silenced. Chut! the place is ours! France and England are looking on. -I do not say that this will be done; but this is how it ought to be -done. If your generals are fools, what is that to me? I am not a -general--I!--but a simple civilian!--Waiter, a cigar! _Qui vivra, -verra_." - -It is all _pipe-clay_, as the soldiers call it, now. The one engrossing -topic silences every other. Alma, Inkermann, Lord Raglan's flank march, -and the earlier incidents of the siege, are related by the very men who -took an active share in those deeds of glory. Two cavalry officers, -both wounded on the fatal day, recapitulate once more the _pros_ and -_cons_ of the immortal charge at Balaklava--a question that has been -vexed and argued till the very actors themselves in that most brilliant -of disasters scarcely know how they got in, and still less how they ever -got out. Though struck down by the same shell, and within ten yards of -one another, each takes a diametrically opposite view of the whole -transaction from his comrade. They differ materially as to time, -position, pace, and results; above all, as to the merits of the leader -whose wreath of laurels faded as undeservedly as it bloomed prematurely. - -"I was close behind him the whole way," says the one; "I never saw a -fellow so cool in my life, or so well 'got up.' He regulated every -stride of that good chestnut horse like clock-work. When we came into -fire, our line was dressed as if on parade. I know it by my own -squadron. Will you tell me _that_ man lost his head?" - -"But where was he after we rode through the guns?" replied the other. -"Answer me that! I grant you he took us in like a _brick_. But why -didn't he bring us out? I never saw him after I was hit, and I _must_ -have seen him if he had rallied the first line, and been in his proper -place to look out for his support. You were close to me, old fellow! I -never knew before that bob-tailed Irish horse of yours could gallop a -mile and a half. You were sickish, my boy, for I saw your face; but -your eyesight was unimpaired. Tell me, did _you_ see him, and what was -he doing?" - -"I _did_, I'll swear!" answers the partisan, as fine a specimen of a -young hussar as ever drew a sword. "And I'll tell you what he was -doing. Mind, I don't say it because I _like him_, for I don't. -Confound him! he put me under arrest once in Dublin, and I believe it -was only because my boots weren't well blacked. But I saw him, with my -own eyes, striking at three Cossacks, who were prodding him with their -long lances; and if poor old Champion had not dropped under me just at -that moment, I'd have gone in and had a shy to help him, if I lost my -stick. No, no! he's game as a pebble, let them say what they will; and -if it wasn't for those cursed papers, he'd have had all the credit he -deserves. It was the quickest thing I ever rode to, my boy," adds the -young one, rather flushed, and drinking off his champagne at a gulp in -his excitement. "He had a _lead_, and he kept it right well, and I -won't hear him run down." - -"I don't care," replies his friend. "I maintain it's a general's duty -to know everything that's going on. I maintain he ought to have stood -still and looked about him (to be sure, we couldn't see much in that -smoke); ay! and, if necessary, waited there for the Heavies to come up. -Now, I'll prove it to you in five minutes, if you'll only listen, you -obstinate young beggar! Do you remember, just before we were both hit, -your saying to me, 'What a go this is!' and my answering, 'Whatever we -do, we must keep the men together, but half my horses are blown.' Do -you remember that?" - -"I _admit_ nothing," answers the young man, laughing, "but I do remember -that. It was just before we saw that strong body of Russian cavalry in -rear of the guns, and I don't make out now why they weren't down upon -us." - -"Never mind that," pursues his opponent. "They behaved very steadily, -and retired in good order; but you remember the circumstance. Well, he -was then about six horses' lengths from us on our fight." - -"On our left," interposes the younger man--"on our left; for I remember -poor Blades was knocked over between me and him." - -"On our _right_," persists the other. "I am certain of it, my dear -fellow, for I remarked at the time----" - -"I am positive he was on our left! I remember it as well as if it was -yesterday." - -"I could take my oath he was on our right; for I recollect seeing his -sabretasche swinging." - -"Left!" says one, "Right!" says the other; and they never advance one -step farther in the discussion, which will be prolonged far into the -night, to the consumption of much brandy and water, together with -countless cigars, but with no further result. - -If no two men see any one action of common life in the same light, how -hopeless must it be to endeavour to get at the true statement of an -event which takes place in the presence of a crowd of witnesses, all -excited, all in peril of their lives, all enveloped in the dense smoke -of a hundred guns, all maddening with the fierce, blood-stirring turmoil -of such a deed of arms as the death-ride at Balaklava. - -The instant dinner is finished, and coffee served, cigars are lit. It -is a signal for the ladies to retire, and our handsome countrywomen sail -out of the room, with that stately walk that none but an English lady -ever succeeds in effecting. Many a glance follows them as they -disappear; many a stout heart tightens under its scarlet covering, to -think of the ideal at home--her gloves, her dress, her fragrant hair, -her graceful gestures, and the gentle smile that may never gladden him -again. Men are strange mixtures! the roughest and the coldest exteriors -sometimes hide the most sensitive feelings; and when I hear a man -professing audacious libertinism, and a supreme contempt for women, I -always mistrust the bravado that is but a covering for his weakness, and -set him down at once as a puppet, that a pair of white hands--if one -only knew where to find them--can turn and twist and set aside at will. - -Ropsley was much softer in his manner than he used to be. Had he, too, -experienced the common fate? Was the dandy Guardsman no longer -impervious, _nulli penetrabilis astro_? Painful as was the subject, he -talked much of the De Rohans. He had seen Constance married; he had -heard repeatedly from Victor during the past year; and though he -evidently knew my hopes and their disappointment, by the tenderness with -which he handled the subject, he could not resist enlarging on the -topic, and talking to me of that family, in which I could never cease to -take the warmest interest. I winced, and yet I listened, for I longed -to know and hear of her even now. I would have lain quietly on the rack -only to be told of her welfare. It _was_ painful too. Perhaps there is -no moment at which the heart feels so empty--at which the hopelessness -of a loss is so completely realised, as when we hear the idol of our -lives talked of in a matter-of-course way, as being totally unconnected -with, and independent of, ourselves. - -I remarked that, of his own accord, Ropsley never mentioned Valèrie. To -an inquiry of mine as to the welfare of my kind and handsome nurse, he -gave, I thought, rather an abrupt reply; and, turning suddenly round to -Manners, asked him "if there was nothing to be done in the evening in -this stupid place?" To which our gallant Bashi-Bazouk, who considered -himself responsible for our amusement, answered delightedly, "No opera -yet, Ropsley, though we shall have one in six weeks; no evening parties -either, except a few amongst the French inhabitants--delightful people, -you know, and very select. I am invited to-night to a little music, not -far from here. I could take you both, if you like, with _me_. As -friends of mine you would be most welcome. You speak French, Ropsley, -if I remember right?" - -"A little," replied the latter, much amused, "but _not_ with _your -accent_;" which, indeed, was true enough; for he had lived a good deal -at Paris, and knew Chantilly as well as Newmarket. "Am I well enough -dressed, though, for your fastidious friends?" he added, glancing, not -without a gleam of inward satisfaction, from his own war-worn, -threadbare uniform, to Manners's brilliant and somewhat startling -costume. - -"Couldn't be better!" replied the latter; "looks workmanlike, and all -that. This time next year I only hope mine will be half as good. -Meanwhile, come along, you and Egerton; never mind your cigars, they all -smoke here." - -"What! ladies and all, at these _select_ parties?" laughed Ropsley. "I -thought we were going amongst a lot of duchesses: but I hope they don't -drink as well?" - -"Custom of the country, my dear sir," replied Manners, gravely--"only -cigarettes, of course. If a young lady offers to roll you one, don't -refuse it. These little things are matters of etiquette, and it is as -well to know beforehand." So, drilling us on the proper behaviour to be -observed at a Pera party, our cicerone swaggered out into the night air, -clanking his spurs, and rattling his sabre, with a degree of jingling -vigour which seemed to afford him unlimited satisfaction. It was rather -good to see Ropsley of the Guards--the man who had the _entrée_ to all -the best houses in London, the arbiter of White's, the quoted of -diners-out, the favourite of fine ladies--listening with an air of the -greatest attention to our former usher's lectures on the proper -deportment to be assumed in the company to which he was taking us, and -thanking him with the utmost gravity for his judicious hints and kind -introduction to the _élite_ of Pera society. - -"Go home, Bold, go home." The old dog _would_ accompany me out of the -hotel, _would_ persist in following close at my heel along the narrow -street. Not a soul but our three selves seemed to be wandering about -this beautiful starlight night. The Turkish sentry was sound asleep on -his post; a dark figure, probably some houseless _hamaul_, crouched near -the sentry-box. Savage Bold wanted to fly at it as he passed. - -"How cantankerous the old dog grows," remarked Ropsley, as Bold stalked -behind us, ears erect, and bristling all over with defiance. Ere we -were fifty yards from the hotel he stopped short and barked loudly; a -footstep was rapidly approaching up the street. Murders and robberies -were at this time so frequent in Constantinople, that every passenger -was an object of mistrust in the dark. We, however, were three strong -men, all armed, and had nothing to fear. Bold, too, seemed to recognise -the step. In another moment the Beloochee overtakes us, and with even a -more imperturbable air than usual salutes me gravely, and whispers a few -words in my ear. On my reply, he places my hand against his forehead, -and says, "The brothers of the sword are brothers indeed. Effendi, you -know Ali Mesrour, the son of Abdul. From henceforth my life is at the -disposal of my Frankish brother." - -A hurried consultation between the three Englishmen succeeds. Manners -makes a great virtue of sacrificing sundry waltzes on which he seems to -have set his heart, and is pathetic about the disappointment his absence -will too surely inflict on Josephine, and Philippine, and Seraphine, but -is amazingly keen and full of spirits notwithstanding. Ropsley, no -longer the unimpressionable, apathetic dandy, whom nothing can excite or -amuse, enters with zest into our project, and betrays a depth of -feeling,--nay, a touch of romance--of which I had believed him -incapable. Bold is ordered peremptorily to "go home," and obeys, though -most unwillingly, stopping some twenty paces off, and growling furiously -in the darkness. Two and two we thread the narrow streets that lead -down to the water's edge. The Beloochee is very silent, as is his wont, -but ever and anon draws his shawl tighter round his waist, and loosens -his dagger in its sheath. It is evident that he means _real business_. -Manners and Ropsley chat and laugh like boys out of school. The latter -never seemed half so boyish as now; the former will be a boy all his -life--so much the better for him. At the bridge Ali gives a low shrill -whistle. It reminds me of the night we escaped from the Cossacks in -Wallachia; but the good mare this time is safe in her stable, and little -thinks of the errand on which her master is bound. The whistle is -answered from the water, and a double-oared caïque, with its white-robed -watermen, looms through the darkness to take us on board. As we glide -silently up the Bosphorus, listening to the unearthly chorus of the -baying wild-dogs answering each other from Pera to Stamboul, Manners -produces a revolver from his breast-pocket, and passing his finger along -the barrel shining in the starlight, observes, "Four of us, and five -_here_, make nine. If the gate is only unlocked, we can carry the place -by storm." - - - - - CHAPTER XXXV. - - "THE WOLF AND THE LAMB." - - -Papoosh Pasha is taking his _kief_[#] in his harem. Two softly shaded -lamps, burning perfumed oil, shed a voluptuous light over the apartment. -Rich carpets from the looms of Persia are spread upon the floor; costly -shawls from Northern India fall in graceful folds over the low divan on -which he reclines. Jewel-hilted sabres, silver-sheathed daggers, and -firearms inlaid with gold, glitter above his head, disposed tastefully -against the walls, and marking the warlike character of the owner; for -Papoosh Pasha, cruel, sensual, and corrupt to the very marrow, is -nevertheless as brave as a lion. - - -[#] Repose. - - -Two _nautch-girls_ belonging to his seraglio have been dancing their -voluptuous measure for his gratification. As they stand now unveiled, -panting and glowing with their exertions, the rich Eastern blood -crimsoning their soft cheeks, and coursing wildly through their shapely, -pliant limbs, the old man's face assumes a placid expression of content -only belied by the gleam in that wicked eye, and he is good enough to -wave his amber-tipped pipe-stick in token of dismissal, and to express -his approbation by the single word "_Peki_" (very well). The girls -prostrate themselves before their lord, their silver armlets and anklets -ringing as they touch the floor, and bounding away like two young -antelopes, flit from the presence, apparently not unwilling to escape so -easily. Papoosh Pasha is left alone with the favourite; but the -favourite looks restless and preoccupied, and glances ever and anon -towards the casement which opens out into the garden of the seraglio, -now beginning to glisten in the light of the rising moon, and breathing -the odours of a thousand flowers, heavy and fragrant with the dews of -night. This part of the harem is on the ground floor, and is a retreat -much affected by his Highness for the facility with which the breeze -steals into it from the Bosphorus. - -Zuleika is dressed in all the magnificence of her richest Oriental -costume. Her tiny feet, arched in true Arabian symmetry, are bare to -the ankle, where her voluminous muslin trousers are gathered in by a -bracelet, or more correctly an anklet, set with rubies and emeralds. A -string of beads of the purest lemon-coloured amber marks the outlines of -her slender waist, and terminates a short, close-fitting jacket of pink -satin, embroidered with seed-pearls, open at the bosom, and with long -sleeves fringed by lace of European manufacture. This again is covered -by a large loose mantle of _green_ silk, carelessly thrown over the -whole figure. Zuleika has not forgotten that she is lineally descended -from the Prophet, and wears his colour accordingly. Her hands, in -compliance with Eastern custom, are dyed with _henna_, but even this -horrid practice cannot disguise the symmetry of her tapered fingers; and -although the hair is cut short on her left temple, the long raven locks -from the other side are gathered and plaited into a lustrous diadem -around her brows. She has pencilled her lower eyelashes with some dark -substance that enhances their natural beauty, but even this effort of -the toilette has not succeeded in imparting the languishing expression -which a Turkish beauty deems so irresistible. No; the gleam in -Zuleika's eye is more that of some wild animal, caught but not tamed -glancing eagerly around for a chance of escape, and ready to tear the -hand that would caress it and endeavour to reconcile it to its fetters. - -She does not look as if she loved you, Papoosh Pasha, when you order her -to your feet, and stroke her hair with your fat hand, and gloat on that -mournful, eager face with your little twinkling eye. Better be a -bachelor, Papoosh Pasha, and confine yourself to the solace of coffee -and pipes, and busy your cunning intellect with those puzzling European -politics, and look after the interests of your dissipated master the -Sultan, than take a wild bird to your bosom that will never know you or -care for you, or cease to pine and fret, and beat her breast against the -bars of the cage in which you have shut her up. - -The old man sinks back upon his cushions with a sigh of corporeal -contentment. His fat person is enveloped in a flowing shawl-gown, which -admits of his breathing far more freely than does that miserable tight -frock-coat he wore all day. He has gorged himself with an enormous -meal, chiefly composed of fat substances, vegetables, and sweetmeats. -He has had his tiny measure of hot strong coffee, and is puffing forth -volumes of smoke from a long cherry-stick pipe. He bids Zuleika kneel -at his feet and sing him to his rest. The girl glances eagerly towards -the window, and seems to listen; she dare not move at once to the -casement and look out, for her lord is mistrustful and suspicious, and -woe to her if she excites his jealousy to such a pitch that she cannot -lull it to sleep again. She would give him an opiate if she dared, or -something stronger still, that should settle all accounts; but there is -a dark story in the harem of a former favourite--a Circassian--who tried -to strike the same path for freedom, and failed in the attempt. She has -long slept peacefully some forty fathom deep in the sparkling Bosphorus, -and the caïques that take her former comrades to the Sweet-Waters glide -along over her head without disturbing her repose. Since then, whenever -Papoosh Pasha drinks in the women's apartment, he has the gallantry to -insist on a lady pledging him first before he puts his own fat lips to -the bowl. - -"Come hither, Zuleika, little dove," says the old man, drawing her -towards him; "light of my eyes and pearl of my heart, come hither that I -may lay my head on thy bosom, and sleep to the soft murmurings of thy -gentle voice." - -The girl obeys, but glances once more uneasily towards the window, and -takes her place with compressed lips, and cheeks as pale as death. A -long Albanian dagger, the spoil of some lawless chief, hangs temptingly -within arm's length. Another such caress as that, Papoosh Pasha, and -who shall ensure you that she does not bury it in your heart! - -But a more feminine weapon is in her hand--a three-stringed lute or -gittern, incapable of producing much harmony, but nevertheless affording -a plaintive and not inappropriate accompaniment to the measured chant -with which the reigning Odalisque lulls her master to his rest. The -tones of her voice are very wild and sad. Ever and anon she stops in -her music and listens to the breathing of the Pasha; so surely he opens -his eyes, and raising his head from her lap bids her go on,--not angrily -nor petulantly, but with a quiet overbearing malice that irritates the -free spirit of the girl to the quick. She strikes the gittern with no -unskilful hand; and although her voice is mournful, it is sweet and -musical as she sings; but the glance of her eye denotes mischief, and I -had rather be sleeping over a powder magazine with my lighted chibouque -in my mouth, than pillow my head, as you are doing, Papoosh Pasha, on -the lap of a woman maddened by tyranny and imprisonment,--her whole -being filled with but two feelings--Love stronger than death; Hatred -fiercer than hell. And this is the caged bird's song:-- - - -Down in the valley where the Sweet-Waters meet--where the Sweet-Waters -meet under the chestnut trees,-- - -There Hamed had a garden; and the wild bird sang to the Rose. - -In the garden were many flowers, and the pomegranate grew in the midst. -Fair and stately she grew, and the fruit from her branches dropped like -dew upon the sward. - -And Hamed watered the tree and pruned her, and lay down in the cool -freshness of her shade. - -Beautiful was the pomegranate, yet the wild bird sang to the Rose. - -The Lily bent lowly to the earth, and drooped for very shame, because -the breeze courted the Lily and kissed her as he swept by to meet the -Sweet-Waters under the chestnut trees. - -For the Lily was the fairest of flowers; yet the wild bird sang to the -Rose. - -Then there came a blast from the desert, and the garden of Hamed was -scorched and withered up; - -And the pomegranate sickened and died; and Hamed cut her down by the -roots, and sowed corn over the place of her shade. - -And the breeze swept on, and stayed not, though the Lily lay trampled -into the earth. - -Every flower sickened and died; yet the wild bird sang to the Rose. - -In the dawn of early morning, when the sky is green with longing, and -the day is at hand, - -When the winds are hushed, and the waters sleep smiling, and the stars -are dim in the sky: - -When she pines for his coming, and spreads her petals to meet him, and -droops to hear his note; - -When the garden gate is open, and the watchers are asleep, and the last, -_last_ hope is dying,--will the wild bird come to the Rose? - - -The concluding lines she sang in a marked voice there was no mistaking, -and I doubt if they did not thrill to the heart's core of more than one -listener. - -The moon had now fairly risen, and silvered the trees and shrubs in the -harem garden with her light, leaving, however, dense masses of shade -athwart the smooth lawn and under the walls of the building. Cypress -and cedar quivered in her beams. Not a breath of air stirred the -feathery leaves of the tall acacia, with its glistening stem; and the -swelling ripple of the Bosphorus plashed drowsily against the marble -steps. All was peace and silence and repose. Far enough off to elude -observation, yet within hail, lay our caïque, poised buoyantly on the -waters, and cutting with its dark outline right athwart a glittering -pathway as of molten gold. Close under the harem window, concealed by -the thick foliage of a broad-leaved creeper, Ali Mesrour and myself -crouched, silent and anxious, scarce daring to breathe, counting with -sickening eagerness the precious moments that were fleeting by, so -tedious yet so soon past. Twenty paces farther off, under a dark group -of cypresses, lay Ropsley and Manners ready for action, the latter with -his hand in his bosom caressing the trusty revolver by which he set such -store. - -Everything had as yet gone off prosperously. We had landed noiseless -and unobserved. The garden gate, thanks to woman's foresight and -woman's cunning, had been left open. The sentry on guard, like all -other Turkish sentries when not before an enemy, had lain down, -enveloped in his great-coat, with his musket by his side, and was -snoring as only a true son of Osman can snore after a bellyful of -_pilaff_. If his lord would but follow his example, it might be done; -yet never was old man so restless, so ill at ease, so wakefully disposed -as seemed Papoosh Pasha. - -We could see right into the apartment, and the rich soft lamplight -brought out in full relief the faces and figures of its two occupants. -Zuleika sat with her feet gathered under her on the divan: one hand -still held the lute; the other was unwillingly consigned to the caresses -of her lord. The old man's head reclined against her bosom; his parted -lips betokened rest and enjoyment; his eyes were half closed, yet there -was a gleam of vigilant malice upon his features that denoted anything -but sleep. The poor girl's face alternated from a scowl of withering -hatred to a plaintive expression of heart-broken disappointment. -Doubtless she was thinking "the last, _last_ hope is dying, and the wild -bird is not coming to the rose." - -Ali Mesrour gazed on her he loved. If ever there was a trying -situation, it was his--to see her even now in the very embrace of his -enemy--so near, yet so apart. Few men could have enough preserved their -self-command not to betray even by the workings of the countenance what -a storm of feelings must be wasting the heart; yet the Beloochee moved -not a muscle; his profile, turned towards me, was calm and grim as that -of a statue. Once only the right hand crept stealthily towards his -dagger, but the next moment he was again as still as death. The Pasha -whispered something in the girl's ear, and a gleam of wild delight -sparkled on her face as she listened. She rose cheerfully, left the -room with a rapid, springing step, and returned almost immediately with -a flask under her arm, and a huge goblet set with precious stones in her -hand. Papoosh Pasha, true believer and faithful servant of the Prophet, -it needs not the aid of a metal-covered cork, secured with wire, to -enable us to guess at the contents of that Frankish flask. No sherbet -of roses is poured into your brimming goblet--no harmless, unfermented -liquor, flavoured with cinnamon or other lawful condiment; but the -creaming flood of amber-coloured champagne whirls up to the very margin, -and the Pasha's eye brightens with satisfaction as he stretches forth -his hand to grasp its taper stem. Cunning and careful though, even in -his debauches, he proffers the cup to Zuleika ere he tastes. - -"Drink, my child," says the old hypocrite, "drink of the liquid such as -the houris are keeping in Paradise for the souls of the true believers; -drink and fear not--it is lawful. _Allah Kerim_!" - -Zuleika wets her lips on the edge, and hands the cup to her lord, who -drains it to the dregs, and sets it down with a sigh of intense -satisfaction. - -"It is lawful," he continues, wiping his moustaches. "It is not -forbidden by the blessed Prophet. Wine indeed is prohibited to the true -believer, but the Prophet knew not the flavour of champagne, and had he -tasted it, he would have enjoined his servants to drink it four times a -day. Fill again, Zuleika, oh my soul! Fill again! There is but one -Allah!" - -The girl needs no second bidding; once and again she fills to the brim; -once and again the Pasha drains the tempting draught; and now the little -twinkling eye dims, the cherry-stick falls from the opening fingers, the -Pasha's head sinks upon Zuleika's bosom, and at last he is fast asleep. -Gently, tenderly, like a mother soothing a child, she hushes him to his -rest. Stealthily, slowly she transfers his head from her own breast to -the embroidered cushions. Dexterously, noiselessly, see extricates -herself from his embrace. A low whistle, scarcely perceptible, reaches -her ear from the garden, and calls the blood into her cheek; and yet, a -very woman even now, she turns to take one last look at him whom she is -leaving for ever. A cool air steals in from the window, and plays upon -the sleeper's open neck and throat. She draws a shawl carefully, nay, -caressingly, around him. Brute, tyrant, enemy though he is, yet there -have been moments when he was kindly and indulgent towards her, for she -was his favourite; and she will not leave him in anger at the last. -Fatal delay! mistaken tenderness! true woman! always influenced by her -feelings at the wrong time! What did that moment's weakness cost us -all? She had crossed the room--we were ready to receive her--her foot -was on the very window-sill; another moment and she would have been in -Ali's arms, when a footstep was heard rapidly approaching up the street, -a black figure came bounding over the garden wall, closely followed by a -large English retriever, and shouting an alarm wildly at the top of his -voice. As the confused sentry fired off his musket in the air; as the -Pasha's guards and retainers woke and sprang to their arms; as the -Beloochee glared wildly around him; as Ropsley, no longer uninterested, -swore volubly in English, and Manners drew the revolver from his bosom, -Bold, for the second time that day, pinned a tall negro slave by the -throat, and rolling him over and over on the sward, made as though he -would have worried him to death in the garden. - -It was, however, too late; the alarm was given, and all was discovered. -The man I had struck in the afternoon of that very day had dogged me -ever since, in hopes of an opportunity to revenge himself. He had -followed me from place to place, overheard my conversation, and watched -all those to whom I spoke. He had crouched under the sentry-box at the -door of Messirie's hotel, had tracked us at a safe distance down to the -very water's edge, and had seen us embark on our mysterious expedition. -With the cunning of his race, he guessed at once at our object, and -determined to frustrate it. Unable, I conclude, at that late hour to -get a caïque, he had hastened by land to his master's house, and, as the -event turned out, had arrived in time to overthrow all our plans. He was -followed in his turn by my faithful Bold, who, when so peremptorily -ordered to leave us, had been convinced there was something in the wind, -and accordingly transferred his attentions to the figure that had been -his object of distrust the live-long day. How he worried and tore at -him, and refused to relinquish his hold. Alas! alas! it was too -late--too late! - -The Pasha sprang like a lion from his lair. At the same instant, Ali -Mesrour and myself bounded lightly through the open window into the -apartment. Zuleika flung herself with a loud shriek into her lover's -arms. Manners and Ropsley came crowding in behind us, the former's -revolver gleaming ominously in the light. The Pasha was surrounded by -his enemies, but he never faltered for an instant. Hurrying feet and -the clash of arms resounded along the passages; lights were already -twinkling in the garden; aid was at hand, and, Turk, tyrant, voluptuary -though he was, he lacked not the courage, the promptitude which aids -itself. At a glance he must have recognised Ali; or it might have been -but the instinct of his nation which bid him defend his women. Quick as -thought, he seized a pistol that hung above his couch, and discharged it -point-blank at the Beloochee's body. The bullet sped past Zuleika's head -and lodged deep in her lover's bosom. At the same instant that Ropsley, -always cool and collected in an emergency, dashed down both the lamps, -Ali's body lurched heavily into my arms, and poor Zuleika fell senseless -on the floor. - -The next moment a glare of light filled the apartment. Crowds of slaves, -black and white, all armed to the teeth, rushed in to the rescue. The -Pasha, perfectly composed, ordered them to seize and make us prisoners. -Encumbered by the Beloochee's weight, and outnumbered ten to one, we -were put to it to make good our retreat, and ere we could close round -her and carry her off, two stout negroes had borne the still senseless -Zuleika through the open doorway into the inner chambers of the palace. -Placing the Beloochee between myself and Ropsley, we backed leisurely -into the garden, the poor fellow groaning heavily as we handed him -through the casement, and so made our way, still fronting the Pasha and -his myrmidons, towards our caïque, which at the first signal of -disturbance had been pulled rapidly in shore. Manners covered our -retreat with great steadiness and gallantry, keeping the enemy at bay -with his revolver, a weapon with which one and all showed much -disinclination to make further acquaintance. By this time shrieks of -women pervaded the palace. The blacks, too, jabbered and gesticulated -with considerably more energy than purpose, half-a-dozen pistol shots -fired at random served to increase the general confusion, which even -their lord's presence and authority were completely powerless to quell, -and thus we were enabled to reach our boat, and shove off with our -ghastly freight into the comparative safety of the Bosphorus. - -"He will never want a doctor more," said Ropsley, in answer to an -observation from Manners, as, turning down the edge of the Beloochee's -jacket, he showed us the round livid mark that, to a practised eye, told -too surely of the irremediable death-wound. "Poor fellow, poor fellow," -he added, "he is bleeding inwardly now, he will be dead before we reach -the bridge." - -Ali opened his eyes, and raising his head, looked around as though in -search of some missing face. - -"Zuleika," he whispered, "Zuleika!" and sank back again with a piteous -expression of hopeless, helpless misery on his wan and ghastly features. -The end was obviously near at hand, his cheeks seemed to have fallen in -the last few minutes, dark circles gathered round his eyes, his forehead -was damp and clammy, and there was a light froth upon his ashy lips. -Yet as death approached he seemed to recover strength and consciousness; -a true Mussulman, the grave had for him but few terrors, and he had -confronted the grim monarch so often as not to wince from him at last -when really within his grasp. - -He reared himself in the boat, and supported by my arm, which was wound -round his body, made shift to sit upright and look about him, wildly, -dreamily, as one who looks for the last time. "Effendi," he gasped, -pressing my hand, "Effendi, it is destiny. The good mare--she is my -brother's! Oh, Zuleika! Zuleika!" - -A strong shudder convulsed his frame, his jaw dropped, I thought he was -gone, but he recovered consciousness once more, snatched wildly at his -sword, which he half drew, and whispering faintly, "Turn me to the East! -There is but one Allah!" his limbs collapsed--his head sunk upon my -shoulder--and so he died. - -Row gently, brawny watermen, though your freight is indeed but the shell -which contained even now a gallant, faithful spirit. One short hour -ago, who so determined, so brave, so sagacious as the Beloochee warrior? -and where is he now? That is not Ali Mesrour whom you are wafting so -sadly, so smoothly towards the shore. Ali Mesrour is far away in space, -in the material Paradise of your own creed, with its inexhaustible -sherbets, and its cool gardens, and its dark-eyed maidens waving their -green scarfs to greet the long-expected lover; or to the unknown region, -the shadowy spirit-land of a loftier, nobler faith, the mystical world -on which Religion herself dare hardly speculate, where "the tree shall -be known by its fruits," "where the wicked cease from troubling, and the -weary are at rest." - -So we carried him reverently and mournfully to the house he had -occupied; and we laid him out in his warrior dress, with his arms by his -side and his lance in his hand, and ere the morrow's sun was midway in -the heavens, the earth had closed over him in his last resting-place, -where the dark cypresses are nodding and whispering over his tomb, and -the breeze steals gently up from the golden Bosphorus, smiling and -radiant, within a hundred paces of his grave. - -The good bay mare has never left my possession. For months she was -restless and uncomfortable, neighing at every strange step, and refusing -her food, as if she pined truly and faithfully for her master. He came -not, and after a time she forgot him; and another hand fed and cared for -her, and she grew sleek and fat and light-hearted. What would you? It -is a world of change. Men and women, friends and favourites, lovers and -beloved, all must forget and float with the stream and hurry on; if -there be an exception--if some pale-eyed mourner, clinging to the bank, -yearns hopelessly for the irrevocable Past, what matter, so the stream -can eddy round him, and laugh and ripple by? Let him alone! he is not -one of us. God forbid! - -Of Zuleika's fate I shudder to think. Though I might well guess she -could never expect to be forgiven, it was long before surmise approached -certainty, and even now I strive to hope against hope, to persuade -myself that there may still be a chance. At least I am thankful Ali was -spared the ghastly tidings that eventually came to my ears--a tale that -escaped the lips of a drunken caïgee, and in which I fear there is too -much truth. - -Of course the attack on the Pasha's palace created much scandal -throughout Constantinople; and equally of course, a thousand rumours -gained credence as to the origin and object of the disturbance. The -English officers concerned received a hint that it would be advisable to -get out of the way as speedily as possible; and I was compelled to -absent myself for a time from my kind friend and patron, Omar Pasha. -One person set the whole thing down as a drunken frolic; another voted -it an attempt at burglary of the most ruffian-like description; and the -Turks themselves seemed inclined to resent it as a gratuitous insult to -their prejudices and customs. A stalwart caïgee, however, being, -contrary to his religion and his practice, inebriated with strong drink, -let out in his cups that, if he dared, he could tell more than others -knew about the attack on the palace of Papoosh Pasha, and its sequel. -Influenced by a large bribe, and intimidated by threats, he at length -made the following statement:--"That the evening after the attack, about -sun-down, he was plying off the steps of Papoosh Pasha's palace; that he -was hailed by a negro guard, who bade him approach the landing-place; -that two other negroes then appeared, bearing between them a sack, -carefully secured, and obviously containing something weighty; that they -placed it carefully in the bottom of his caïque, and that more than once -he distinctly saw it move; that they desired him to pull out into -mid-stream, and when there, dropped the sack overboard; that it sunk -immediately, but that he fancied he heard a faint shriek as it went -down, and saw the bubbles plainly coming up for several seconds at the -place where it disappeared; further, that the negro gave him fifty -piastres over his proper fare for the job, and that he himself had been -uncomfortable and troubled with bad dreams ever since." - -Alas, poor Zuleika! there is but little hope that you survived your -lover four-and-twenty hours. The wild bird came, indeed, as he had -promised, in the early morning, to the rose, but the wild bird got his -death-wound; and the rose, I fear, lies many a fathom deep in the clear, -cold waters of the silent Bosphorus. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXVI - - "THE FRONT" - - -Man has been variously defined by philosophers as a cooking animal (the -truth of this definition, unless when applied to our Gallic neighbours, -I stoutly contest), as a reasoning animal (this likewise will hardly -hold water), as a self-clothing animal, as an omnivorous one, as an -unfeathered biped, and as an improved specimen of the order of Simiæ -without the tail! None of these definitions will I accept as expressing -exactly the conditions and necessities of our species. I believe man to -be an animal fed on excitement--the only one in creation that without -that pabulum, in some shape or another, languishes, becomes torpid, and -loses its noblest energies both of mind and body. Why do men drink, -quarrel, gamble, and waste their substance in riotous living? Why does -Satan, according to good Dr. Watts, always provide work "for idle hands -to do"? Why, but because man _must_ have excitement. If he have no -safety-valve for his surplus energies in the labour which earns his -daily bread, they will find vent through some other channel, either for -good or evil, according to his bias one way or the other. There is no -such thing as repose on the face of the earth; "push on--keep moving," -such is the motto of humanity. If we are not making we must be marring, -but we cannot sit still. How else do we account for the proverbial -restlessness of the sailor when he has been a few weeks ashore? How else -can we conceive it possible for a rational being, whilst enjoying the -luxuries and liberty of a landsman's existence, to pine for the -hardships, the restraint, the utter discomfort which every one must -necessarily experience on board ship? How, except upon this principle, -can we understand the charm of a soldier's life, the cheering influence -of a campaign? It is most unnatural to like rigid discipline, short -rations, constant anxiety, and unremitting toil. A wet great-coat on -the damp earth is a bad substitute for a four-post bed, with thick -blankets, and clean sheets not innocent of the warming-pan. A tent is a -miserable dwelling-place at the best of times, and is only just -preferable to the canopy of heaven in very hot or very cold, or very -windy or very wet weather. There is small amusement in spending the -livelong night in sleepless watching for an enemy, and little -satisfaction in being surprised by the same about an hour before dawn. -It is annoying to be starved, it is irritating to be frightened, it is -uncomfortable to be shot,--yet are all these casualties more or less -incidental to the profession of arms; and still the recruiting sergeant -flaunts his bunch of ribbons in every market town throughout merry -England, and still the bumpkin takes the shilling, and sings in beery -strains, "Huzza for the life of a soldier!" - -And I too had tasted of the fierce excitement of strife--had drunk of -the stimulating draught which, like some bitter tonic, creates a -constant craving for more--had been taught by the influence of custom -and companionship to loathe the quiet dreamy existence which was my -normal state, and to long for the thrill of danger, the variety and -unholy revelry of war. - -So I returned with Ropsley to the Crimea. I had small difficulty in -obtaining leave from Omar Pasha to resign, at least for a time, my -appointment on his personal staff. - -"They are queer fellows, my adopted countrymen," said his Highness, in -his dry, humorous manner, and with his quaint smile, "and the sooner you -get out of the way, friend Egerton, the better. I shall be asked all -sorts of questions about you myself; and if you stay here, why, the -nights are dark and the streets are narrow. Some fine morning it might -be difficult to wake you, and nobody would be a bit the wiser. Our Turk -has his peculiar notions about the laws of honour, and he cannot be made -to comprehend why he should risk his own life in taking yours. Besides, -he is ridiculously sensitive about his women, particularly with a -Christian. Had you been a good Mussulman, now, Egerton, it could have -been easily arranged. You might have bought the lady, got drunk on -champagne with old Papoosh Pasha, and set up a harem of your own. Why -don't you become a convert, as I did? The process is short, the faith -simple, the practice satisfactory. Think it over, my good Interpreter, -think it over. Bah! in ten minutes you would be as good a Mussulman as -I am, and better." And his Highness laughed, and bid me "Good-bye," for -he had a good deal upon his hands just then, being on the eve of -marriage with his _fifth_ wife, a young lady twelve years of age, -daughter to his Imperial Majesty the Sultan, and bringing her husband a -magnificent dowry of jewels, gold, and horses, in addition to many broad -and fertile acres in Anatolia, not to mention a beautiful kiosk near -Scutari and a stately palace on the Bosphorus, without which -adventitious advantages she might perhaps have hardly succeeded in -winning the heart of so experienced a warrior as Omar Pasha. - -Thus it was that I found myself one broiling sunny morning leaning over -the side of a transport, just then dropping her anchor in Balaklava Bay. - -The scorching rocks frowned down on the scorching sea; the very planks -on the deck glistened with the heat. There was no shade on land, and not -a breath of air ruffled the shining bosom of the water. The harbour was -full, ay, choked with craft of every rig and every tonnage; whilst long, -wicked-looking steamers and huge, unwieldy troop-ships dotted the -surface of the land-locked bay. The union-jack trailed idly over our -stern, the men were all on deck, gazing with eager faces on that shore -which combined for _them_ the realities of history with the fascinations -of romance. Young soldiers were they, mostly striplings of eighteen and -twenty summers, with the smooth cheeks, fresh colour, and stalwart limbs -of the Anglo-Saxon race--too good to fill a trench! And yet what would -be the fate of at least two-thirds of that keen, light-hearted draft? -_Vestigia nulla retrorsum_. Many a time has it made my heart ache to -see a troop-ship ploughing relentlessly onward with her living freight -to "the front,"--many a time have I recalled Æsop's fable, and the -foot-prints that were all _towards_ the lion's den,--many a time have I -thought how every unit there in red was himself the centre of a little -world at home; and of the grey heads that would tremble, and the loving -faces that would pale in peaceful villages far away in England, when no -news came from foreign parts of "our John," or when the unrelenting -_Gazette_ arrived at last and proclaimed, as too surely it would, that -he was coming back "never, never no more." - -Boom!--there it is again! Every eye lightens at that dull, distant -sound. Every man's pulse beats quicker, and his head towers more erect, -for he feels that he has arrived at the _real thing_ at last. No sham -fighting is going on over yonder, not two short leagues from where he -stands--no mock bivouac at Chobham, nor practice in Woolwich Marshes, -nor meaningless pageant in the Park: that iron voice carries _death_ -upon its every accent. For those in the trenches it is a mere echo--the -unregarded consequence that necessarily succeeds the fierce rush of a -round-shot or the wicked whistle of a shell; but for us here at -Balaklava it is one of the pulsations of England's life-blood--one of -the ticks, so to speak, of that great Clock of Doom which points -ominously to the downfall of the beleaguered town. - -Boom! Yes, there it is again; you cannot forget why you are here. Day -and night, sunshine and storm, scarce five minutes elapse in the -twenty-four hours without reminding you of the work in hand. You ride -out from the camp for your afternoon exercise, you go down to Balaklava -to buy provisions, or you canter over to the monastery at St. George's -to visit a sick comrade--the iron voice tolls on. In the glare of noon, -when everything else seems drowsy in the heat, and the men lie down -exhausted in the suffocating trenches--the iron voice tolls on. In the -calm of evening, when the breeze is hushed and still, and the violet sea -is sleeping in the twilight--the iron voice tolls on. So when the -flowers are opening in the morning, and the birds begin to sing, and -reviving nature, fresh and dewy, seems to scatter health and peace and -good-will over the earth--the iron voice tolls on. Nay, when you wake -at midnight in your tent from a dream of your far-away home--oh! what a -different scene to this!--tired as you may be, ere you have turned to -sleep once more, you hear it again. Yes, at midnight as at noon, at -morn as at evening, every day and all day long, Death is gathering his -harvest--and the iron voice tolls on. - -"Very slack fire they seem to be keeping up in the front," yawns out -Ropsley, who has just joined me on deck, and to whom the siege and all -its accessories are indeed nothing new. Many a long and weary month has -he been listening to that sound; and what with his own ideas on the -subject, and the information a naturally acute intellect has acquired -touching the proceedings of the besiegers, his is indeed a familiarity -which "breeds contempt." - -"Any news from the camp?" he shouts out to a middy in a man-of-war's -boat passing under our stern. The middy, a thorough specimen of an -English boy, with his round laughing face and short jacket, stands up to -reply. - -"Another sortie! No end of fellows killed; and _they say_ the Malakhoff -is blown up." - -Our young soldiers listen eagerly to the news. They have heard and read -of the Malakhoff for many a day, and though their ideas of the nature -and appearance of that work are probably of a somewhat confused -description, they are all athirst for intelligence, and prepared to -swallow everything connected with the destruction of that or any other -of the defences with a faith that is, to say the least of it, a sad -temptation to the laughter-loving informant. - -A middy, though from some organic cause of which I am ignorant, is -always restless and impatient towards the hour of noon; and our friend -plumps down once more in the stern of his gig, and bids his men "give -way"; for the sun is by this time high in the heavens; so we take our -places in the ship's boat which our own captain politely provides for -us, and avoiding the confusion of a disembarkation of men and stores, -Ropsley, Bold, and I leap ashore at Balaklava, unencumbered save by the -slender allowance of luggage which a campaign teaches the most luxurious -to deem sufficient. - -Ashore at Balaklava! What a scene of hurry and crowding and general -confusion it is! Were it not that every second individual is in uniform -and bearded to the waist, it would appear more like the mart of some -peaceful and commercial sea-port, than the threshold of a stage on which -is being fought out to the death one of the fiercest and most obstinate -struggles which History has to record on her blood-stained pages. There -are no women, yet the din of tongues is perfectly deafening. Hurrying -to and fro, doing as little work with as much labour as possible, making -immense haste with small speed, and vociferating incessantly at the top -of their voices, Turks and Tartars, Armenians, Greeks, and Ionians, all -accosted by the burly English soldier under the generic name of -"Johnny," are flitting aimlessly about, and wasting her Majesty's stores -in a manner that would have driven the late Mr. Hume frantic. Here a -trim sergeant of infantry, clean and orderly, despite his war-worn looks -and patched garments, drives before him a couple of swarthy -nondescripts, clad in frieze, and with wild elf-locks protruding over -their jutting foreheads, and twinkling Tartar eyes. They stagger under -huge sacks of meal, which they are carrying to yonder storehouse, with a -sentry pacing his short walk at the door. The sacks have been furnished -by contract, so the seams are badly sewn; and the meal, likewise -furnished by contract, and of inferior quality, is rapidly escaping, to -leave a white track in the mud, also a contract article, and of the -deepest, stickiest, and most enduring quality. The labours of the two -porters will be much lightened ere they reach their destination; but -this is of less moment, inasmuch as the storehouse to which they are -proceeding is by no means watertight, and the first thunderstorm that -sweeps in from the Black Sea is likely much to damage its contents. It -is needless to add that this edifice of thin deal planks has been -constructed by contract for the use of her Majesty's Government. - -A little farther on, a train of mules, guided by a motley crowd of every -nation under heaven, and commanded by an officer in the workmanlike -uniform of the Land Transport, is winding slowly up the hill. They have -emerged from a perfect sea of mud, which even at this dry season shows -not the least tendency to harden into consistency, and they will -probably arrive at the front in about four hours, with the loss of a -third only of their cargo, consisting of sundry munitions which were -indispensable last week, and might have been of service the day before -yesterday, but the occasion for which has now passed away for ever. - -A staff officer on a short sturdy pony gallops hastily by, exchanging a -nod as he passes with a beardless cornet of dragoons, whose English -charger presents a curious study of the anatomy of a horse. He pulls up -for an instant to speak to Ropsley, and the latter turns to me and -says-- - -"Not so bad as I feared, Vere. It was a mere sortie, after all, and we -drove them back very handsomely, with small loss on our side. The only -officer killed was young ----, and he was dying, poor fellow! at any -rate, of dysentery." - -This is the news of the day here, and the trenches form just such a -subject of conversation before Sebastopol as does the weather in a -country-house in England--a topic never new, but never entirely worn -out. - -Side by side, Ropsley and myself are journeying up the hill towards the -front. A sturdy batman has been in daily expectation of his master's -return, and has brought his horses down to meet him. It is indeed a -comfort to be again in an English saddle--to have the lengthy, powerful -frame of an English horse under one--and to hear the homely, honest -accents of a _provincial_ English tongue. When a man has been long -amongst foreigners, and especially serving with foreign troops, it is -like being at home again to be once more within the lines of a British -army; and to add to the pleasure of our ride, although the day is -cloudless and insufferably hot in the valleys, there is a fresh breeze -up here, and a pure bracing air that reaches us from the heights on -which the army is encamped. - -It is a wild, picturesque scene, not beautiful, yet full of interest and -incident. Behind us lies Balaklava, with its thronging harbour and its -busy crowds, whose hum reaches us even here, high above the din. It is -like looking down on an ant-hill to watch the movements of the shifting -swarm. - -On our right, the plain, stretching far and wide, is dotted with the -Land Transport--that necessary evil so essential to the very existence -of an army; and their clustering wagons and scattered beasts carry the -eye onwards to a dim white line formed by the neat tents and orderly -encampment of the flower of French cavalry, the gallant and dashing -Chasseurs d'Afrique. - -On our left, the stable call of an English regiment of Light Dragoons -reaches us from the valley of Kadikoi, that Crimean Newmarket, the -doings of which are actually chronicled in _Bell's Life_! Certainly an -Englishman's nationality is not to be rooted out of him even in the jaws -of death. But we have little time to visit the race-course or the -lines--to pass our comments on the condition of the troopers, or gaze -open-mouthed at the wondrous field-batteries that occupy an adjoining -encampment--moved by teams of twelve horses each, perhaps the finest -animals of the class to be seen in Europe, with every accessory of -carriage, harness, and appointments, so perfect as not to admit of -improvement, yet, I believe, not found to answer in actual warfare. Our -interest is more awakened by another scene. We are on classic ground -now, for we have reached the spot whence - - Into the valley of death - Rode the six hundred! - -Yes, stretching down from our very feet lies that mile-and-a-half gallop -which witnessed the boldest deed of chivalry performed in ancient or -modern times. Well might the French general exclaim, "_C'est -magnifique!_" although he added, significantly, "_mais ce n'est pas la -guerre._" The latter part of his observation is a subject for -discussion, but of the former there is and there can be but one opinion. -_Magnifique_ indeed it must have been to see six hundred horsemen ride -gallantly down to almost certain death--every heart beating equally -high, every sword striking equally hard and true. - - Groom fought like noble, squire like knight, - As fearlessly and well. - -Not a child in England at this day but knows, as if he had been there, -the immortal battle of Balaklava. It is needless to describe its -situation, to dwell upon the position they were ordered to carry, or the -fire that poured in upon front, flanks, ay, and rear, of the attacking -force. This is all matter of history; but as the valley stretched -beneath us, fresh, green, and smiling peacefully in the sun, it required -but little imagination to call up the stirring scene of which it had -been the stage. Here was the very ground on which the Light Brigade -were drawn up; every charger quivering with excitement, every eye -flashing, every lip compressed with the sense of coming danger. A staff -officer rides up to the leader, and communicates an order. There is an -instant's pause. Question and reply pass like lightning, and the -aide-de-camp points to a dark, grim mass of artillery bristling far away -down yonder in the front. Men's hearts stop beating, and many a bold -cheek turns pale, for there is more excitement in uncertainty than in -actual danger. The leader draws his sword, and faces flush, and hearts -beat high once more. Clear and sonorous is his voice as he gives the -well-known word; gallant and chivalrous his bearing as he takes his -place--that place of privilege--_in front_--"_Noblesse oblige_" and can -he be otherwise than gallant and chivalrous and devoted, for is he not a -_gentleman?_ and yet, to the honour of our countrymen be it spoken, not -a man of that six hundred, of any rank, but was as gallant and -chivalrous and devoted as he--he has said so himself a hundred times. - -So the word is given, and the squadron leaders take it up, and the Light -Brigade advances at a gallop; and a deadly grasp is on the sword, and -the charger feels his rider's energy as he grips him with his knees, and -holding him hard by the head urges him resolutely forward--to death! - -And now they cross the line of fire: shot through the heart, an -aide-de-camp falls headlong from the saddle, and his loose horse gallops -on, wild and masterless, and wheels in upon the flank, and joins the -squadron once more. It has begun now. Man upon man, horse upon horse, -are shot down and rolled over; yet the survivors close in, sterner, -bolder, fiercer than before, and still the death-ride sweeps on. - -"Steady, men--forward!" shouts a chivalrous squadron leader, as he waves -his glittering sword above his head, and points towards the foe. Clear -and cheerful rings his voice above the tramp of horses and the rattle of -small-arms and the deadly roar of artillery. He is a model of beauty, -youth, and gallantry--the admired of men, the darling of women, the hope -of his house.--Do not look again.--A round-shot has taken man and horse; -he is lying rolled up with his charger, a confused and ghastly mass. -Forward! the squadron has passed over him, and still the death-ride -sweeps on. - -The gaps are awful now, the men told off by threes look in vain for the -familiar face at right or left; every trooper feels that he must depend -on himself and the good horse under him, but there is no wavering. -Officers begin to have misgivings as to the result, but there is no -hesitation. All know they are galloping to destruction, yet not a heart -fails, not a rein is turned. Few, very few are they by this time, and -still the death-ride sweeps on. They disappear in that rolling -sulphurous cloud, the portal of another world; begrimed with smoke, -ghastly with wounds, comrade cannot recognise comrade, and officers look -wildly round for their men; but the guns are still before them--the -object is not yet attained--the enemy awaits them steadily behind his -gabions, and the fire from his batteries is mowing them down like grass. -If but one man is left, that one will still press forward: and now they -are on their prey. A tremendous roar of artillery shakes the air. -Mingled with the clash of swords and the plunge of horses, oath, prayer, -and death-shriek fly to heaven. The batteries are reached and carried. -The death-ride sweeps over them, and it is time to return. - -[Illustration: "The batteries are reached and carried. _The -Interpreter_ _Page 317_] - - - * * * * * - - -In twos, and threes, and single files, the few survivors stagger back to -the ground, from whence, a few short minutes ago, a gallant band had -advanced in so trim, so orderly, so soldier-like a line. - -The object has been attained, but at what a sacrifice? Look at yon -stalwart trooper sinking on his saddle-bow, sick with his death-hurt, -his head drooping on his bosom, his sword hanging idly in his paralysed -right hand, his failing charger, wounded and feeble, nobly bearing his -master to safety ere he falls to rise no more. The soldier's eye -brightens for an instant as he hears the cheer of the Heavy Brigade -completing the work he has pawned his life to begin. Soon that eye will -glaze and close for ever. Men look round for those they knew and loved, -and fear to ask for the comrade who is down, stiff and stark, under -those dismounted guns and devastated batteries; horses come galloping in -without riders; here and there a dismounted dragoon crawls feebly back -to join the remnants of what was once his squadron, and by degrees the -few survivors get together and form something like an ordered body once -more. It is better not to count them, they are so few, so _very_ few. -Weep, England, for thy chivalry! mourn and wring thy hands for that -disastrous day; but smile with pride through thy tears, thrill with -exultation in thy sorrow, to think of the sons thou canst boast, of the -deed of arms done by them in that valley before the eyes of gathered -nations--of the immortal six hundred--thy children, every man of them, -that rode the glorious death-ride of Balaklava! - -"That was a stupid business," observed Ropsley, as he brought his horse -alongside of mine, and pointed down the valley; "quite a mistake from -beginning to end. What a licking we deserved to get, and what a licking -we _should_ have got if our dragoons were not the only cavalry in the -world that will _ride straight_!" - -"And yet what a glorious day!" I exclaimed, for the wild cheer of a -charge seemed even now to be thrilling in my ears. "What a chance for a -man to have! even if he did not survive it. What a proud sight for the -army! Oh, Ropsley, what would I give to have been there!" - -"_Not whist_, my dear fellow," replied my less enthusiastic friend; -"that is not the way to _play the game_, and no man who makes mistakes -deserves to win. I have a theory of my own about cavalry, they should -never be offered too freely. I would almost go so far as to say they -should not be used till a battle is won. At least they should be kept -in hand till the last moment, and then let loose like lightning. What -said the Duke? 'There are no cavalry on earth like mine, but I can only -use them _once_;' and no man knew so well as he did the merits and the -failings of each particular arm. Nor should you bring the same men out -again too soon after a brilliant charge; let them have a little time to -get over it, they will _come_ again all the better. Never _waste_ -anything in war, and never run a chance when you can stand on a -certainty. But here we are at the camp of the First Division. Yonder -you may catch a glimpse of the harbour and a few houses of the town of -Sebastopol. How quiet it looks this fine day! quite the sort of place -to take the children to for sea-bathing at this time of the year! I am -getting tired of the _outside_, though, Egerton; I sometimes think we -shall _never_ get in. There they go again," he added, as a white volume -of smoke rose slowly into the clear air, and a heavy report broke dully -on our ears; "there they go again, but what a slack fire they seem to be -keeping up; we shall never do any good till we try a _coup de main_, and -take the place by assault;" so speaking, Ropsley picked his way -carefully amongst tent-ropes and tent-pegs, and all the impediments of a -camp, to reach the main street, so to speak, of that canvas town, and I -followed him, gazing around me with a curiosity rather sharpened than -damped by the actual warfare I had already seen on so much smaller a -scale. - -There must have been at least two hundred thousand men at that time -disposed around the beleaguered town, this without counting the Land -Transport and followers of an army, or the crowds of non-combatants that -thronged the ports of Kamiesch and Balaklava. The white town of tents -stretched away for miles, divided and subdivided into streets and -alleys; you had only to know the number of his regiment to find a -private soldier, with as great a certainty as you could find an -individual in London if you knew the number of his house and the name of -the street where he resided--always pre-supposing that the soldier had -not been killed the night before in the trenches, a casualty by no means -to be overlooked. We rode down the main street of the Guards' division, -admired the mountaineer on sentry at the adjoining camp of the Highland -brigade, and pulled up to find ourselves at home at the door of -Ropsley's tent, to which humble abode my friend welcomed me with as -courteous an air and as much concern for my comfort as he would have -done in his own luxurious lodgings in the heart of May-fair. A -soldier's life had certainly much altered Ropsley for the better. I -could see he was popular in his regiment. The men seemed to welcome -back the Colonel (a captain in the Guards holds the rank of -lieutenant-colonel in the army), and his brother officers thronged into -the tent ere we had well entered it ourselves, to tell him the latest -particulars of the siege, and the ghastly news that every morning -brought fresh and bloody from the trenches. - -As a stranger, or rather as a guest, I was provided with the seat of -honour, an old, shrivelled bullock-trunk that had escaped the general -loss of baggage on the landing of the army, previous to the battle of -the Alma, and which, set against the tent-pole for a "back," formed a -commodious and delightful resting-place; the said tent-pole, besides -being literally the main-stay and prop of the establishment, fulfilling -all the functions of a wardrobe, a chest of drawers, and a -dressing-table; for from certain nails artfully disposed on its slender -circumference, depended the few articles of costume and necessaries of -the toilet which formed the whole worldly wealth of the _ci-devant_ -London dandy. - -The dandy aforesaid, sitting on his camp-bedstead in his ragged -flannel-shirt, and sharing that seat with two other dandies more ragged -than himself, pledged his guest in a silver-gilt measure of pale ale, -brought up from Balaklava at a cost of about half-a-guinea a bottle, and -drank with a gusto such as the best-flavoured champagne had never wooed -from a palate formerly too delicate and fastidious to be pleased with -the nectar of the immortals themselves, now appreciating with exquisite -enjoyment the strongest liquids, the most acrid tobacco, nay, the Irish -stew itself, cooked by a private soldier at a camp-fire, savoury and -delicious, if glutinous with grease and reeking of onions. - -"Heavy business the night before last," said a young Guardsman with a -beautiful girlish face, and a pair of uncommonly dirty hands garnished -with costly rings--a lad that looked as if he ought to be still at -school, but uniting the cool courage of a man with the mischievous -light-hearted spirits of a boy. "Couldn't get a wink of sleep for them -at any time--never knew 'em so restless. Tell you what, Colonel, 'rats -leave a falling house,' it's my belief there's _something up_ now, else -why were we all relieved at twelve o'clock instead of our regular -twenty-four hours in the trenches? Good job for me, for I breakfasted -with the General, and a precious blow-out he gave me. Turkey, my boys! -and cherry-brandy out of a shaving-pot! Do you call that nothing?" - -"Were you in the advanced trenches?" inquired Ropsley, stopping our -young friend's gastronomic recollections; "and did you see poor ---- -killed?" - -The lad's face fell in an instant; it was with a saddened and altered -voice that he replied-- - -"Poor Charlie! yes, I was close to him when he was hit. You know it was -his first night in the trenches, and he was like a boy out of school. -Well, the beggars made a sortie, you know, on the left of our right -attack: they couldn't have chosen a worse place; and he and I were with -the light company when we drove them back. The men behaved admirably, -Colonel; and poor Charlie was so delighted, not being used to it, you -know," proceeded the urchin, with the gravity of a veteran, "that it was -impossible to keep him within bounds. He had a revolver (that wouldn't -go off, by the way), and he had filled a soda-water bottle with powder -and bullets and odd bits of iron, like a sort of mimic shell. Well, -this thing burst in his hand, and deuced near blew his arm off, but it -only made him keener. When the Russians retired, he actually ran out in -front and threw stones at them. I tried all I could to stop him." (The -lad's voice was getting husky now.) "Well, Colonel, it was bright -moonlight, and I saw a Russian private take a regular 'pot-shot' at poor -Charlie. He hit him just below the waist-belt; and we dragged him into -the trenches, and there he--he died. Colonel, this 'baccy of yours is -very strong; I'll--I'll just walk into the air for a moment, if you'll -excuse me. I'll be back directly." - -So he rose and walked out, with his face turned from us all; and though -there was nothing to be ashamed of in the weakness, I think not one of -us but knew he had gone away to have his "cry" out, and liked him all -the better for his mock manliness and his feeling heart. - -Ere he came back again the bugles were sounding for afternoon parade. -Orderly corporals were running about with small slips of paper in their -hands, the men were falling in, and the fresh relief, so diminished -every four-and-twenty hours, was again being got ready for the work of -death in the trenches. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXVII - - "A QUIET NIGHT" - - -On an elevated plateau, sloping downward to a ravine absolutely paved -with iron, in the remains of shot and shell fired from the town during -its protracted and vigorous defence, are formed in open column "the -duties" from the different regiments destined to carry on the siege for -the next four-and-twenty hours. Those who are only accustomed to see -British soldiers marshalled neat and orderly in Hyde Park, or -manoeuvring like clock-work in "the Phoanix," would hardly recognise in -that motley, war-worn band the staid and uniform figures which they are -accustomed to contemplate with pride and satisfaction as the -"money's-worth" of a somewhat oppressive taxation. The -Highlanders--partly from the fortune of war, partly from the nature of -their dress--are less altered from their normal exterior than the rest -of the army, and the Guardsman's tall figure and bear-skin cap still -stamp him a Guardsman, notwithstanding patched clothing and much-worn -accoutrements; but some of the line regiments, which have suffered -considerably during the siege, present the appearance of regular troops -only in their martial bearing and the scrupulous discipline observed -within their ranks. To the eye of a soldier, however, there is -something very pleasing and "workmanlike" in the healthy, confident air -of the men, and the "matter-of-course" manner in which they seem to -contemplate the duty before them. Though their coats may be out at -elbows, their firelocks are bright and in good order, while the -havresacks and canteens slung at their sides seem to have been carefully -replenished with a view to keeping up that physical vigour and stamina -for which the British soldier is so celebrated, and which, with his firm -reliance on his officers, and determined bull-dog courage, render him so -irresistible an enemy. - -There are no troops who are so little liable to panic--whose _morale_, -so to speak, it is so difficult to impair, as our own. Napoleon said -they "never knew when they were beaten." And how often has this -generous ignorance saved them from defeat! Long may it be ere they -learn the humiliating lesson! But that they are not easily disheartened -may be gathered from the following anecdote, for the truth of which many -a Crimean officer will readily vouch:-- - -Two days after the disastrous attack of the 18th of June, 1855, a -private soldier on fatigue duty was cleaning the door-step in front of -Lord Raglan's quarters; but his thoughts were running on far other -matters than holystone and whitewash, for on a staff officer of high -rank emerging from the sacred portal, he stopped the astonished -functionary with an abrupt request to procure him an immediate interview -with the Commander-in-Chief. - -"If you please, Colonel," said the man, standing at "attention," and -speaking as if it was the most natural thing in the world, "if it's not -too great a liberty, I wants to see the General immediate and -particular!" - -"Impossible! my good fellow," replied the Colonel--who, like most brave -men, was as good-natured as he was fearless--"if you have any complaint -to make, tell it me; you may be sure it will reach Lord Raglan, and if -it is just, it will be attended to." - -"Well, sir, it's not exactly a complaint," replied the soldier, now -utterly neglecting the door-step, "but more a request, like; and I -wanted to see his lordship special, if so be as it's not contrary to -orders." - -The Colonel could hardly help laughing at the coolness with which so -flagrant a military solecism was urged, but repeated that Lord Raglan -was even then engaged with General Pelissier, and that the most he could -do for his importunate friend was to receive his message and deliver it -to the Commander-in-Chief at a favourable opportunity. - -The man reflected an instant, and seemed satisfied. "Well, Colonel," he -said, "we _knows you_, and we _trusts_ you. I speak for myself and -comrades, and what I've got to say to the General is this here. We made -a bad business o' Monday, and we knows the reason why. You let _us_ -alone. There's plenty of us to do it; only you give us leave, and issue -an order that not an officer nor a non-commissioned officer is to -interfere, and _we_, the private soldiers of the British army, will have -that place for you if we pull the works down with our fingers, and crack -the stones with our teeth!" - -"And what," said the Colonel, utterly aghast at this unheard-of -proposal, "what----" - -"What time will we be under arms to do it?" interrupted the delighted -delegate, never doubting but that his request was now as good as -granted,--"why, at three o'clock to-morrow morning; and you see, -Colonel, when the thing's done, if me and my company _wasn't the first -lads in!_" - -Such is the material of which these troops are made who are now waiting -patiently to be marched down to the nightly butchery of the trenches. - -"It reminds one of the cover-side at home," remarked Ropsley, as we -cantered up to the parade, and dismounted; "one meets fellows from all -parts of the camp, and one hears all the news before the sport begins. -There goes the French relief," he added, as our allies went slinging by, -their jaunty, disordered step, and somewhat straggling line of march, -forming as strong a contrast to the measured tramp and regular movements -of our own soldiers, as did their blue frock-coats and crimson trousers -to the _véritable rouge_ for which they had conceived so high a -veneration. Ere they have quite disappeared, our own column is formed. -The brigade-major on duty has galloped to and fro, and seen to -everything with his own eyes. Company officers, in rags and tatters, -with swords hung sheathless in worn white belts, and wicker-covered -bottles slung in a cord over the hip, to balance the revolver on the -other side,--and brave, gentle hearts beating under those tarnished -uniforms, and sad experiences of death, and danger, and hardship behind -those frank faces, and honest, kindly smiles,--have inspected their men -and made their reports, and "fallen in" in their proper places; and the -word is given, and its head moves off--"By the left; quick march!"--and -the column winds quietly down into the valley of the shadow of death. - -Ropsley is field-officer of the night, and I accompany him on his -responsible duty, for I would fain see more of the town that has been in -all our thoughts for so long, and learn how a siege is urged on so -gigantic a scale. - -The sun is just setting, and gilds the men's faces, and the tufts of -arid grass above their heads in the deepening ravine, with a tawny -orange hue, peculiar to a sunset in the East. The evening is -beautifully soft and still, but the dust is suffocating, rising as it -does in clouds from the measured tread of so many feet; and there is a -feeling of depression, a weight in the atmosphere, such as I have often -observed to accompany the close of day on the shores of the Black Sea. -Even the men seem to feel its influence--the whispered jest, the ready -smile which usually accompanies a march, is wanting; the youngest ensign -looks thoughtful, and as if he were brooding on his far-off home; and -the lines deepen on many a bearded countenance as we wind lower and -lower down the ravine, and reach the first parallel, which to some now -present must be so forcible a reminder of disappointed hopes, fruitless -sacrifices, and many a true and hearty comrade who shall be friend and -comrade no more. - -Ropsley has a plan of the works in his hand, which he studies with eager -attention. He hates soldiering--so he avows--yet is he an intelligent -and trustworthy officer. With his own ideas on many points at variance -with the authorities, and which he never scruples to avow, he yet -rigidly carries out every duty entrusted to him, and if the war should -last, promises to ascend the ladder as rapidly as any of his comrades. -It is not the path he would have chosen to distinction, nor are the -privations and discomforts of a soldier's life at all in harmony with -his refined perceptions and luxurious habits; but he has embarked on the -career, and, true to his principle, he is determined to "make the most -of it." I think, too, that I can now perceive in Ropsley a spice of -romance foreign to his earlier character. It is a quality without -which, in some shape or other, nothing great was ever yet achieved on -earth. Yet how angry would he be if he knew that I had thought he had a -grain of it in his strong practical character, which he flatters himself -is the very essence of philosophy and common-sense. - -As we wind slowly up the now well-trodden covered way of the first -parallel, from the shelter of which nothing can be seen of the attack or -defence, I am forcibly reminded of the passages in a theatre, which one -threads with blindfold confidence, in anticipation of the blaze of light -and excitement on which one will presently emerge. Ropsley smiles at the -conceit as I whisper it in his ear. - -"What odd fancies you have!" says he, looking up from the plan on which -he has been bending his earnest attention. "Well, you won't have long -to wait for the opera; there's the first bar of the overture already!" -As he speaks he pulls me down under the embankment, while a shower of -dust and gravel, and a startling explosion immediately in front, warn us -that the enemy has thrown a shell into the open angle of the trench, -with a precision that is the less remarkable when we reflect how many -months he has been practising to attain it. - -"Very neatly done," observes Ropsley, rising from his crouching attitude -with the greatest coolness; "they seldom trouble one much so soon as -this. Probably a compliment to you, Egerton," he adds, laughing. "Now -let us see what the damage is." - -Stiff and upright as the ramrod in his firelock, which rattles to his -salute, a sergeant of the Guards marches up and makes his -report:--"Privates Wood and Jones wounded slightly, sir; Lance-corporal -Smithers killed." - -They pass us as they are taken to the rear; the lance-corporal has been -shot through the heart, and must have died instantaneously. His face is -calm and peaceful, his limbs are disposed on the stretcher as if he -slept. Poor fellow! 'Tis quick work, and in ten minutes he is -forgotten. My first feeling is one of astonishment, at my own hardness -of heart in not being more shocked at his fate. - -So we reach the advanced trenches without more loss. It is now getting -quite dark, for the twilight in these latitudes is but of short -duration. A brisk fire seems to be kept up on the works of our allies, -responded to by the French gunners with ceaseless activity; but our own -attack is comparatively unmolested, and Ropsley makes his arrangements -and plants his sentries in a calm, leisurely way that inspires the -youngest soldier with confidence, and wins golden opinions from the -veterans who have spent so many bleak and weary nights before -Sebastopol. - -We are now in the advanced trenches. Not three hundred paces to our -front are yawning the deadly batteries of the Redan. The night is dark -as pitch. Between the intervals of the cannonade, kept up so vigorously -far away on our right, we listen breathlessly as the night-breeze sweeps -down to us from the town, until we can almost fancy we hear the Russians -talking within their works. But the "pick, pick" of our own men's -tools, as they enlarge the trench, and their stifled whispers and -cautious tread, deaden all other sounds. Each man works with his -firelock in his hand; he knows how soon it may be needed. Yet the -soldier's ready jest and quaint conceit is ever on the lip, and many a -burst of laughter is smothered as it rises, and enjoyed all the more -keenly for the constraint. - -"Not so much noise there," says Ropsley, in his quiet, authoritative -tone, as the professed buffoon of the light company indulges in a more -lively sally than usual; "I'll punish any man that speaks above a -whisper. Come, my lads," he adds good-humouredly, "keep quiet now, and -perhaps it will be OUR turn before the night is over!" The men return -to their work with a will, and not another word is heard in the ranks. - -The officers have established a sort of head-quarters as a _place -d'armes_, or re-assembling spot, near the centre of their own "attack." -Three or four are coiled up in different attitudes, beguiling the long, -dark hours with whispered jests and grave speculations as to the -intentions of the enemy. Here a stalwart captain of Highlanders -stretches his huge frame across the path, puffing forth volumes of smoke -from the short black pipe that has accompanied him through the whole -war--the much-prized "cutty" that was presented to him by his father's -forester when he shot the royal stag in the "pass abune Craig-Owar"; -there a slim and dandy rifleman passes a wicker-covered flask of -brandy-and-water to a tall, sedate personage who has worked his way -through half-a-dozen Indian actions to be senior captain in a line -regiment, and who, should he be fortunate enough to survive the present -siege, may possibly arrive at the distinguished rank of a Brevet-Major. -He prefers his own bottle of cold tea; as it gurgles into his lips the -Highlander pulls a face of disgust. - -"Take those long, indecent legs of yours out of the way, Sandy," says a -merry voice, the owner of which, stumbling over these brawny limbs in -the darkness, makes his way up to Ropsley, and whispers a few words in -his ear which seem to afford our Colonel much satisfaction. - -"You couldn't have done it better," says he to the new arrival, a young -officer of engineers, the "bravest of the brave," and the "gayest of the -gay;" "I could have spared you a few more men, but it is better as it -is. I hate harassing our fellows, if we can help it. What will you -have to drink?" - -"A drain at the flask first, Colonel," answers the light-hearted -soldier; "I've been on duty now, one way or another, for eight-and-forty -hours, and I'm about beat. Sandy, my boy, give us a whiff out of 'the -cutty.' I'll sit by you. You remind me of an opera-dancer in that -dress. Mind you dine with me to-morrow, if you're not killed." - -The Highlander growls out a gruff affirmative. He delights in his -volatile friend; but he is a man of few words, although his arm is -weighty and his brain is clear. - -A shell shrieks and whistles over our heads. We mark it revolving, -bright and beautiful, like a firework through the darkness. It lights -far away to our rear, and bounds once more from the earth ere it -explodes with a loud report. - -"Not much mischief done by that gentleman," observes Ropsley, taking the -cigar from his mouth; "he must have landed clear of all our people. We -shall soon have another from the same battery. I wish I knew what they -are doing over yonder," he adds, pointing significantly in the direction -of the Redan. - -"I think I can find out for you, Colonel," says the engineer; "I am -going forward to the last 'sap,' and I shall not be very far from them -there. Your sharpshooters are just at the corner, Green," he adds to -the rifleman, "won't you come with me?" The latter consents willingly, -and as they rise from their dusty lair I ask leave to accompany them, -for my curiosity is fearfully excited, and I am painfully anxious to -know what the enemy is about. The last "sap" is a narrow and shallow -trench, the termination of which is but a short distance from the -Russian work. It is discontinued at the precipitous declivity which -here forms one side of the well-known Woronzoff ravine; and from this -spot, dark as it is, the sentry can be discerned moving to and fro--a -dusky, indistinct figure--above the parapet of the Redan. - -The engineer officer and Green of the Rifles seat themselves on the very -edge of the ravine; the former plucks a blade or two of grass and flings -them into the air. - -"They can't hear us with this wind," says he. "What say you, Green; -wouldn't it be a good lark to creep in under there, and make out what -they're doing?" - -"I'm game!" says Green, one of those dare-devil young gentlemen to be -found amongst the subalterns of the British army, who would make the -same reply were it a question of crossing that glacis in the full glare -of day to take the work by assault single-handed. "Put your sword off, -that's all, otherwise you'll make such a row that our own fellows will -think they're attacked, and fire on us like blazes. Mind you, my chaps -have had lots of practice, and can hit a haystack as well as their -neighbours. Now then, are you ready? Come on." - -The engineer laughed, and unbuckled his sabre. - -"Good-afternoon, Mr. Egerton, in case I shouldn't see you again," said -he; and so the two crept silently away upon their somewhat hazardous -expedition. - -I watched their dark figures with breathless interest. The sky had -lifted a little, and there was a ray or two of moonlight struggling -fitfully through the clouds. I could just distinguish the two English -officers as they crawled on hands and knees amongst the slabs of rock -and inequalities of ground which now formed their only safety. I -shuddered to think that if I could thus distinguish their forms, why not -the Russian riflemen?--and what chance for them then, with twenty or -thirty "Miniés" sighted on them at point-blank distance? However, -"Fortune favours the brave;" the light breeze died away, and the moon -was again obscured. I could see them no longer, and I knew that by this -time they must have got within a very few paces of the enemy's -batteries, and that discovery was now certain death. The ground, too, -immediately under the Russian work was smoother and less favourable to -concealment than under our own. The moments seemed to pass very slowly. -I scarcely dared to move, and the tension of my nerves was absolutely -painful, every faculty seeming absorbed in one concentrated effort of -listening. - -Suddenly a short, sharp stream of light, followed by the quick, angry -report of the Minié--then another and another--they illumine the night -for an instant; and during that instant I strain my eyes in vain to -discover the two dark creeping forms. And now a blinding glare fills -our trenches--the figures of the men coming out like phantoms in their -different attitudes of labour and repose. The enemy has thrown a -fire-ball into our works to ascertain what we are about. Like the -pilot-fish before the shark, that brilliant messenger is soon succeeded -by its deadly followers, and ere I can hurry back to the rallying-point -of the attack, where I have left Ropsley and his comrades, a couple of -shells have already burst amongst our soldiers, dealing around them -their quantum of wounds and death, whilst a couple more are winging -their way like meteors over our heads, to carry the alarm far to the -rear, where the gallant blue-jackets have established a tremendous -battery, and are at this moment in all probability chafing and fretting -that they are not nearer the point of danger. - -"Stand to your arms! Steady, men, steady!" is the word passed from -soldier to soldier along the ranks, and the men spring like lions to the -parapet, every heart beating high with courage, every firelock held -firmly at the charge. They are tired of "long bowls" now, and would -fain have it out with the bayonet. - -The fire from the Redan lights up the intervening glacis, and as I rush -hurriedly along the trench, stooping my head with instinctive -precaution, I steal a glance or two over the low parapet, which shows me -the figure of a man running as hard as his legs can carry him towards -our own rallying-point. He is a mark for fifty Russian rifles, but he -speeds on nevertheless. His cheery voice rings through all the noise -and confusion, as he holloas to our men not to fire at him. - -"Hold on, my lads," he says, leaping breathlessly into the trench; "I've -had a precious good run for it. Where's the Colonel?" - -His report is soon made. It is the young officer of engineers who thus -returns in haste from his reconnoitring expedition. His companion, -Green, has reached his own regiment by another track, for they wisely -separated when they found themselves observed, and strange to say, -notwithstanding the deadly fire through which they have "run the -gauntlet," both are unwounded. The engineer confers with Ropsley in a -low voice. - -"They only want to draw off our attention, Colonel," says he; "I am -quite sure of it. When I was under the Redan I could hear large bodies -of men moving towards their left. That is the point of attack, depend -upon it. There they go on our right! I told you so. Now we shall have -it, hot and heavy, or I'm mistaken." - -Even while he speaks a brisk fire is heard to open on our right flank. -The clouds clear off, too, and the moon, now high in the heavens, shines -forth unveiled. By her soft light we can just discern a dark, -indistinct mass winding slowly along across an open space of ground -between the Russian works. The rush of a round-shot from one of our own -batteries whizzes over our heads. That dusky column wavers, separates, -comes together again, and presses on. Ropsley gets cooler and cooler, -for it is coming at last. - -"Captain McDougal," says he to that brawny warrior, who does not look -the least like an opera-dancer now, as he rears his six feet of vigour -on those stalwart supporters, "I can spare all the Highlanders; form -them directly, and move to your right flank. Do not halt till you reach -the ground I told you of. The Rifles and our own light company will -stand fast! Remainder, right, form four deep--march!" - -There is an alarm along the whole line. Our allies are engaged in a -brisk cannonade for their share, and many an ugly missile hisses past -our ears from the foe, or whistles over our heads from our own supports. -Is it to be a general attack?--a second Inkermann, fought out by -moonlight? Who knows? The uncertainty is harassing, yet attended with -its own thrilling excitement--half a pleasure, half a pain. - -A few of our own people (we cannot in the failing light discover to what -regiment they belong) are giving way before a dense mass of Russian -infantry that outnumber them a hundred to one. They have shown a -determined front for a time, but they are sorely pressed and -overpowered, and by degrees they give back more and more. The truth must -out--they are on the point of turning tail and running away. A little -fiery Irishman stands out in front of them; a simple private is he in -the regiment, and never likely to reach a more exalted rank, for, like -all great men, he has a darling weakness, and the temptation to which he -cannot but succumb is inebriety--the pages of the Defaulters' Book call -it "habitual drunkenness." Nevertheless, he has the heart of a hero. -Gesticulating furiously, and swearing, I regret to say, with blasphemous -volubility, he tears the coat from his back, flings his cap on the -ground, and tossing his arms wildly above his head, thus rebukes, like -some Homeric hero, his more prudent comrades-- - -"Och, bad luck to ye, rank cowards and shufflers that ye are! and bad -luck to the day I listed! and bad luck to the rig'ment that's disgracin' -me! Would I wear the uniform, and parade like a soldier again, when -it's been dirtied by the likes of you? 'Faith, not I, ye thunderin' -villains. I'll tread and I'll trample the coat, and the cap, and the -facin's, and the rest of it; and I'll fight in my shirt, so I will, if -they come on fifty to one. Hurroo!" - -Off goes his musket in the very faces of the enemy; with a rush and a -yell he runs at them with the bayonet. His comrades turn, and strike in -vigorously with the hero. Even that little handful of men serves for an -instant to check the onward progress of the Russians. By this time the -supports--Guards, Highlanders, and the flower of the British -infantry--are pouring from their entrenchments; a tremendous fire of -musketry opens from the whole line; staff officers are galloping down -hurry-skurry from the camp. Far away above us, on those dark heights, -the whole army will be under arms in ten minutes. The Russian column -wavers once more--breaks like some wave against a sunken rock; dark, -flitting figures are seen to come out, and stagger, and fall; and then -the whole body goes to the right-about and returns within its defences, -just as a mass of heavy clouds rising from the Black Sea sweeps across -the moon, and darkness covers once more besiegers and besieged. - -We may lie down in peace now till the first blush of dawn rouses the -riflemen on each side to that sharp-shooting practice of which it is -their custom to take at least a couple of hours before breakfast. We -may choose the softest spots in those dusty, covered ways, and lean our -backs against gabions that are getting sadly worn out, and in their -half-emptied inefficiency afford but an insecure protection even from -the conical ball of the wicked "Minié." We may finish our flasks of -brandy-and-water and our bottles of cold tea, and get a few winks of -sleep, and dream of home and the loved ones that, except in the hours of -sleep, some of us will never see more. All these luxuries we may enjoy -undisturbed. We shall not be attacked again, for this is what the -soldiers term "A _quiet_ night in the trenches." - - - - - CHAPTER XXXVIII - - THE GROTTO - - -It is not _all_ fighting, though, before Sebastopol. Without coinciding -entirely with the somewhat Sancho Panza-like philosophy which affirms -that the "latter end of a feast is better than the beginning of a fray," -there is many a gallant fellow who has not the slightest objection to -take his share of both; and from the days of Homer's heavy-handed -heroes, down to those of the doughty Major Dugald Dalgetty himself, a -good commissariat has always been considered essential to the success of -all warlike enterprise. Every campaigner knows what a subject of -speculation and excitement is afforded by the prospect of "what he will -have for dinner," and the scantiness of that meal, together with the -difficulty of providing for it, seems but to add to the zest with which -it is enjoyed. Many a quaint incident and laughable anecdote is related -of the foraging propensities of our allies, particularly the Zouaves, -who had learned their trade in Algeria, and profited by the lessons of -their Khabyle foe. The Frenchman, moreover, knows how to _cook_ a -dinner _when_ he has filched it, which is more than can be said for our -own gallant countrymen. - -Had it not been for Fortnum and Mason--names which deserve to be -immortalised, and which will ever be remembered with gratitude by the -British army--our heroes would indeed have been badly off for luxurious -living on that bracing and appetite-giving plateau. Yet, thanks to the -energy of this enterprising firm, Amphitryons were enabled to indulge -their taste for hospitality, and guests to admire and criticise the -merits of the very commendable delicacies placed before them. - -A dinner-party at Sebastopol, just out of cannon-shot, had something -inexpressibly enlivening in its composition. There was no lack of news, -no lack of laughter, no lack of eatables and drinkables, above all, no -lack of hunger and thirst. The same faces were to be seen around the -board that might have been met with at any dinner-table in London, but -white neckcloths and broadcloth had given place to tawny beards and -tarnished uniforms, whilst the bronzed countenances and high spirits of -the party formed an exhilarating contrast to the weary looks and vapid -conversation which makes London society, in its own intrinsic -attractions, the stupidest in the world. - -The sun's last rays are lighting up that well-known hill where sleeps -"the bravest of the brave," he whose name will go down to our children's -children coupled with Inkermann, as that of Leonidas with Thermopylæ. He -whose fall evoked a deed of chivalry such as minstrel and troubadour -snatched from oblivion in the olden time, and handed down to us for a -beacon along the pathway of honour. Had they ever a nobler theme than -this? A chief falls, surrounded and overpowered, in his desperate -attempt to retrieve the fortunes of a day that he deems all but lost. -His friend and comrade, faint and mangled, turns once more into the -battle, and bestrides the form of the prostrate hero. One to ten, the -breathless and the wounded against the fresh and strong, but the heart -of an English gentleman behind that failing sword, beat down and -shattered by the thirsty bayonets. An instant the advance is checked. -An instant and they might both have been saved. Oh, for but one -half-dozen of the towering forms that are even now mustering to the -rescue! They are coming through the smoke! Too late--too late! the -lion-hearted chieftain and the gentle, chivalrous warrior are down, -slain, trampled, and defaced, but side by side on the bed of honour; and -though the tide sweeps back, and the broken columns of the Muscovite are -driven, routed and shattered, to the rear, _their_ ears are deaf to the -shout of victory, _their_ laurel wreaths shall hang vacant and unworn, -for they shall rise to claim them no more. - -The setting sun is gilding their graves--the white buildings of -Sebastopol smile peacefully in his declining rays--the sea is blushing -violet under the rich purple of the evening sky. The allied fleets are -dotted like sleeping wild-fowl over the bosom of the deep; one solitary -steamer leaves its long dusky track of smoke to form a stationary cloud, -so smooth is the water that the ripple caused by the sunken ships can be -plainly discerned in the harbour, and the Russian men-of-war still -afloat look like children's toys in the distance of that clear, calm -atmosphere. The bleak and arid foreground, denuded of vegetation, and -trampled by a thousand footmarks, yet glows with the warm orange hues of -sunset, and the white tents contrast pleasingly with here and there the -richer colouring of some more stationary hut or storehouse. It is an -evening for peace, reflection, and repose; but the dull report of a -68-pounder smites heavily on the ear from the town, and a smart -soldier-servant, standing respectfully at "attention," observes, "The -General is ready, sir, and dinner is upon the table." - -In a grotto dug by some Tartar hermit out of the cool earth are -assembled a party of choice spirits, who are indeed anchorites in -nothing but the delight with which they greet the refreshing atmosphere -of their banqueting-hall. A flight of stone steps leads down into this -well-contrived vault, in so hot a climate no contemptible exchange for -the stifling interior of a tent, or even the comparative comfort of a -wooden hut thoroughly baked through by the sun. A halting figure on -crutches is toiling painfully down that staircase, assisted, with many a -jest at their joint deficiencies, by a stalwart, handsome Guardsman, a -model of manly strength and symmetry, but lacking what he is pleased to -term his "liver wing." They are neither of them likely to forget the -Crimea whilst they live. Ere they reach the bottom they are overtaken -by a cavalry officer with jingling spurs and noisy scabbard, who, having -had a taste of fighting, such as ought to have satisfied most men, at -Balaklava, is now perpetually hovering about the front, disgusted with -his enforced idleness at Kadikoi, and with a strong impression on his -mind--which he supports by many weighty arguments--that a few squadrons -of Dragoons would be valuable auxiliaries to a storming party, and that -a good swordsman on a good horse can "go anywhere and do anything." - -"I think we are all here now," says the host; "Monsieur le Général, -shall we go to dinner?" - -The individual addressed gives a hearty affirmative. He is a stout, -good-humoured-looking personage, with an eagle eye, and an extremely -tight uniform covered with orders and decorations. He is not yet too -fat to get on horseback, though the privations of campaigning seem to -increase his rotundity day by day, and he expects ere long to go to -battle, like an ancient Scythian, in his war-chariot. By that time he -will be a marshal of France, but meanwhile he pines a little for the -opera, and enjoys his dinner extremely. He occupies the seat of honour -on the right hand of his host. The latter bids his guests welcome in -frank, soldier-like style; and whilst the soup is handed round, and -those bearded lips are occupied with its merits, let us take a look -round the table at the dozen or so of guests, some of whom are destined -ere long to have their likenesses in every print-shop in merry England. -First of all the dinner-giver himself--a square, middle-sized man, with -a kindling eye, and a full, determined voice that suggests at once the -habit of command--a kindly though energetic manner, and a countenance -indicative of great resolution and clear-headedness; perhaps the best -drill in the British army, and delighting much in a neat touch of parade -tactics even before an enemy. Many a Guardsman nudged his comrade with -a grin of humorous delight when, on a certain 20th of September, his old -colonel coolly doubled a flank company in upon the rear of its -battalion, and smiled to see the ground it would otherwise have occupied -ploughed and riddled by the round-shot that was pouring from the enemy's -batteries in position on the heights above the Alma. The British -soldier likes coolness above all things; and where in command of foreign -troops an officer should rave and gesticulate and tear his hair to -elicit a corresponding enthusiasm from his men, our own phlegmatic -Anglo-Saxons prefer the quiet smile and the good-humoured "_Now_, my -lads!" which means so much. - -On the left, and facing the Frenchman, sits a middle-aged -decided-looking man, somewhat thoughtful and abstracted, yet giving his -opinions in a clear and concise manner, and with a forcible tone and -articulation that denote great energy and firmness of character. His -name, too, is destined to fill the page of history--his future is bright -and glowing before him, and none will grudge his honours and promotion, -for he is endeared to the army by many a kindly action, and it has been -exertion for their welfare and watching on their behalf, that have -wasted his strong frame with fever, and turned his hair so grey in so -short a time. Soldier as he is to his heart's core, he would fain be -outside in the sunset with his colours and his sketch-book, arresting on -its pages the glorious panorama which is even now passing away; but he -is listening attentively to his neighbour, a handsome young man in the -uniform of a simple private of Zouaves, and is earnestly occupied in -"getting a wrinkle," as it is termed, concerning the interior economy -and discipline of that far-famed corps. The Zouave gives him all the -information he can desire with that peculiarly frank and fascinating -manner which is fast dying out with the _ancien régime_, for though a -private of Zouaves he is a marquis of France, the representative of one -of the oldest families in the Empire, and a worthy scion of his -chivalrous race. Rather than not draw the sword for his country, he has -resigned his commission in that body of household cavalry termed "The -Guides," and entered as a trooper in the Chasseurs d'Afrique: a display -of martial enthusiasm for which he has been called out from the ranks of -his original corps and publicly complimented by the Empress Eugénie -herself. Arrived in the Crimea, he found his new comrades placed in -enforced idleness at far too great a distance from active operations to -suit his taste, and he forthwith exchanged once more into the Zouaves, -with whom he took his regular share of duty in the trenches, and he is -now enjoying a furlough of some six hours from his quarters, to dine -with an English general, and cultivate the _entente cordiale_ which -flourishes so vigorously on this Crimean soil. Alas for the gallant -spirit, the graceful form, the warm noble heart! no bird of ill omen -flew across his path as he came to-day to dinner, no warning note of -impending death rang in his ears to give him notice of his doom. -To-night he is as gay, as lively, as cheerful as usual; to-morrow he -will be but a form of senseless clay, shot through the head in the -trenches. - -Meanwhile the champagne goes round, and is none the less appreciated -that although there is an abundance of bottles, there is a sad -deficiency of glasses. A light-hearted aide-de-camp, well accustomed to -every emergency, great or small, darts off to his adjoining tent, from -which he presently returns, bearing two tin cups and the broken remains -of a coffee-pot; with these auxiliaries dinner progresses merrily, and a -fat turkey--how obtained it is needless to inquire--is soon reduced to a -skeleton. A little wit goes a long way when men are before an enemy; and -as the aide-de-camp strongly repudiates the accusation of having -purloined this hapless bird, jokes are bandied about from one to -another, every one wishing to fasten on his neighbour the accusation of -knowing how to "make war support war." - -The English officers are a long way behind their allies in this useful -accomplishment; and the French general shakes his jolly sides as he -relates with much gusto sundry Algerian experiences of what we should -term larceny and rapine, but which his more liberal ideas seem to -consider excusable, if not positively meritorious. - -"The best foragers I had in Algeria," says he, "were my best soldiers -too. If I wanted fresh milk for my coffee, I trusted to the same men -that formed my storming parties, and I was never disappointed in one -case or the other. In effect, they were droll fellows, my Zouaves -Indigènes--cunning too, as the cat that steals cream; the Khabyles could -keep nothing from them. If we entered their tents, everything of value -was taken away before you could look round. To be sure we could carry -nothing with us, but that made no difference. I have seen the men wind -shawls round their waists that were worth a hundred louis apiece, and -throw them aside on a hot day on the march. There was one Khabyle chief -who was very conspicuous for the magnificent scarlet cashmere which he -wore as a turban. On foot or on horseback, there he was, always -fighting and always in the front. Heaven knows why, but the men called -him Bobouton, and wherever there was a skirmish Bobouton was sure to be -in the thick of it. One day I happened to remark 'that I was tired of -Bobouton and his red shawl, and I wished some one would bring me the -turban and rid me of the wearer.' A little swarthy Zouave, named Pépé, -overheard my observation. '_Mon Colonel_,' said he, with a most -ceremonious bow,' to-morrow is your _jour de fête_--will you permit me -to celebrate it by presenting you with the scarlet turban of Bobouton?' -I laughed, thanked him, and thought no more about it. - -"The following morning, at sunrise, I rode out to make a reconnaissance. -A party, of whom Pépé was one, moved forward to clear the ground. -Contrary to all discipline and _ordonnance_, my droll little friend had -mounted a magnificent pair of epaulettes. Worn on his Zouave uniform, -the effect was the least thing ridiculous. As I knew of no epaulettes in -the camp besides my own, I confess I was rather angry, but the enemy -having opened a sharp fire upon my skirmishers, I did not choose to -sacrifice an aide-de-camp by bidding him ride on and visit Pépé with -condign punishment; so, reserving to myself that duty on his return, I -watched him meanwhile through my glass with an interest proportioned to -my regard for my epaulettes, an article not too easily replaced in -Algeria. Nor were mine the only eyes that looked so eagerly on the -flashing bullion. Bobouton soon made his appearance from behind a rock, -and by the manner in which he and Pépé watched, and, so to speak, -'stalked' each other, I saw that a regular duel was pending between the -two. In fine, after very many manoeuvres on both sides, the Zouave -incautiously exposed himself at a distance of eighty or ninety paces, -and was instantaneously covered by his watchful enemy. As the smoke -cleared away from the Khabyle's rifle, poor Pépé sprang convulsively in -the air, and fell headlong on his face. 'Tenez!' said I to myself, -'there is Pépé shot through the heart, and I shall never see my -epaulettes again.' - -"The Khabyle rushed from his hiding-place to strip his fallen -antagonist. Already his eyes glittered with delight at the idea of -possessing those tempting ornaments--already he was within a few feet of -the prostrate body, when 'crack!' once more I heard the sharp report of -a rifle, and presto, like some scene at a carnival, it was Bobouton that -lay slain upon the rocks, and Pépé that stood over him and stripped him -of the spoils of war. In another minute he unrolled the red turban at -my horse's feet. '_Mon Colonel_,' said he, 'accept my congratulations -for yourself and your amiable family. Accept also this trifling token -of remembrance taken from that incautious individual who, like the mouse -in the fable, thinks the cat must be dead because she lies prostrate -without moving. And accept, moreover, my thanks for the loan of these -handsome ornaments, without the aid of which I could not have procured -myself the pleasure of presenting my worthy colonel with the shawl of -_ce malheureux Bobouton_.' The rascal had stolen them out of my tent -the night before, though my aide-de-camp slept within two paces of me, -and my head rested on the very box in which they were contained." - -"Alas! we have no experiences like yours, General," says a tall, -handsome colonel of infantry, with the Cape and Crimean ribbons on his -breast; "wherever we have made war with savages, they have had nothing -worth taking. A Kaffre chief goes to battle with very little on besides -his skin, and that is indeed scarce worth the trouble of stripping. -When we captured Sandilli, I give you my word he had no earthly article -upon his person but a string of blue beads, and yet he fought like a -wildcat to make his escape." - -"Your health, my friend," replies the General, clinking his glass with -that of his new acquaintance. "You have been in Caffraria? Ah! I -should have known it by your decorations. Are they not a fierce and -formidable enemy? Is it not a good school for war? Tell me, -now"--looking round the table for an explanation--"why do you not -reserve South Africa, you others, as we do the northern shore, to make -of it a drill-ground for your soldiers and a school for your officers? -It would cost but little--a few hundred men a year would be the only -loss. Bah!--a mere trifle to the richest and most populous country in -the world. I do not understand your English _sang-froid_. Why do you -not establish _your_ Algeria at the Cape?" - -Many voices are immediately raised in explanation; but it is difficult -to make the thorough soldier--the man who has all his life been the -military servant of a military Government--understand how repugnant -would be such a proceeding to the feelings of the British people--how -contrary to the whole spirit of their constitution. At length, with -another glass of champagne, a new light seems to break in upon him. -"Ah!" says he, "it would not be approved of by _Le Times_; now I -understand perfectly. We manage these matters better with us. _Peste!_ -if we go to war, there it is. We employ our _Gazettes_ to celebrate our -victories. Your health, _mon Général_; this is indeed a wearisome -business in which we are engaged--a life totally brutalising. Without -change, without manoeuvring, and without pleasure: what would you? I -trust the next campaign in which we shall meet may be in a civilised -country--the borders of the Rhine, for instance; what think you?--where, -instead of this barbarian desert, you find a village every mile, and a -good house in every village, with a bottle of wine in the cellar, a -smoked ham in the chimney, and a handsome Saxon _blonde_ in the kitchen. -'_A la guerre, comme à la guerre, n'est ce pas, mon Général?_'" - -The company are getting merry and talkative; cigars are lit, and coffee -is handed round; the small hours are approaching, and what Falstaff -calls the "sweet of the night" is coming on, when the tramp and snort of -a horse are heard at the entrance of the grotto, a steel scabbard rings -upon the stone steps, and although the new-comer's place at one end of -the table has been vacant the whole of dinner-time, he does not sit down -to eat till he has whispered a few words in the ear of the English -general, who receives the intelligence with as much coolness as it is -imparted. - -In five minutes the grotto is cleared of all save its customary -occupants. The French general has galloped off to his head-quarters; -the English officers are hurrying to their men; each as he leaves the -grotto casts a look at an ingenious arrangement at its mouth, which, by -means of a diagram formed of white shells, each line pointing to a -particular portion of the attack, enables the observer to ascertain at -once in which direction the fire is most severe. The originator of this -simple and ingenious indicator meanwhile sits down for a mouthful of -food. He has brought intelligence of the sortie already described, and -which will turn out the troops of all arms in about ten minutes; but in -the meantime he has five to spare, and, being very hungry, he makes the -best use of his time. As the light from the solitary lamp brings into -relief that square, powerful form--that statue-like head, with its -fearless beauty and its classical features--above all, the frank, kindly -smile, that never fades under difficulties, and the clear, unwavering -eye that never quails in danger,--any physiognomist worthy of the name -would declare "that man was born to be a hero!" And the physiognomist -would not be mistaken. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIX - - THE REDAN - - -The days dragged on in the camp. Sometimes wearily enough, sometimes -enlivened by a party of pleasure to Baidar, an expedition to the -monastery of St. George, a general action at the Tchernaya, a -hurdle-race at Kadikoi, or some trifling excitement of the same kind. -Already the great heat was beginning to be tempered by the bracing air -of autumn, and the army was more than half inclined to speculate on the -possibility of another long dreary winter before Sebastopol. - -But the time had come at last. The blow so long withheld was to be -launched in earnest, and for a day or two before the final and -successful assault, men's minds seemed to tell them--they scarce knew -why--that a great change was impending, and that every night might now -be the last on which the dogged valour of the besieged would man those -formidable defences that, under the names of the Malakhoff, the Redan, -etc., had for so long occupied the attention of France, England, and -indeed the whole of Europe. - -I was sitting outside Ropsley's tent, sharing my breakfast of hard -biscuit with Bold, at daybreak of a fine September morning. The old dog -seemed on this occasion to have renewed his youth, and was so -demonstrative and affectionate as to call down a strong reproof from -Ropsley, with whom he was never on very friendly terms, for laying his -broad paw on the well-brushed uniform of the Colonel. "Tie the brute -up, Vere," said he, carefully removing the dirt from his threadbare -sleeve, "or he will follow us on parade. Are you ready? if so, come -along. I would not be late to-day of all days, for a thousand a year." - -I remained in his rear, as he completed the inspection of his company. -I had never seen the men so brisk or so smartly turned out, and there -was an exhilarated yet earnest look on their countenances that denoted -their own opinion of the coming day. Ropsley himself was more of the -_bon camarade_, and less of the "fine gentleman" than usual. As we -marched down to the trenches side by side, he talked freely of old -times,--our school-days at Everdon, our later meeting at Beverley, and, -by a natural transition, turned the subject of conversation to Victor de -Rohan and his sister Valèrie. I had never known him allude to the -latter of his own accord before. He seemed to have something on his mind -which pride or mistrust, or both, would not permit him to bring out. At -last, apparently with a strong effort, he whispered hurriedly-- - -"Vere, I've a favour to ask you--if I should be _hit_ to-day by chance, -and badly, you know, I should like you to write and remember me to the -De Rohans, and--and--particularly to Countess Valèrie. If ever you -should see her again, you might tell her so." - -I pressed his hand in answer, and I thought his voice was hoarser as he -resumed. - -"Vere, it is not often I confess myself wrong, but I have wronged you -fearfully. If I'm alive to-morrow I'll tell you all; if not, Vere, can -you--_can_ you forgive me?" - -"From my heart," was all I had time to reply, for at that instant up -rode the leader of the assault, and Ropsley's voice was calm and -measured, his manner cold and cynical as ever, while he answered the -short and military catechism usual on such occasions. - -"Then it's all right," was the remark of the mounted officer, in as -good-humoured and jovial a tone as if the affair in hand were a mere -question of one of his own Norfolk battues; "and what a fine morning -we've got for the business," he added, dismounting, and patting his -horse as it was led away, ere he turned round to put himself at the head -of the storming party. - -I watched him as one watches a man whose experiences of danger have -given him a fascination perfectly irresistible to inferior minds. It -was the same officer whom I have already mentioned as the latest arrival -to disturb the dinner-party in the grotto, but to-day he looked, if -possible, more cheerful, and in better spirits than his wont. I thought -of his antecedents, as they had often been related to me by one of his -oldest friends,--of his unfailing good-humour and kindliness of -disposition--of his popularity in his regiment--of his skill and prowess -at all sports and pastimes, with the gloves, the foils, the -sharp-rowelled spurs of the hunting-field, or the velvet cap that fails -to protect the steeplechaser from a broken neck--of his wanderings in -the desert amongst the Bedouin Arabs, and his cold bivouacs on the -prairie with the Red Indians--of his lonely ride after the Alma, when, -steering by the stars through a country with which he was totally -unacquainted, he arrived at the fleet with the news of the famous flank -march to Balaklava--of his daring _sang-froid_ when "the thickest of -war's tempest lowered" at Inkermann, and of the daily dangers and -privations of the weary siege, always borne and faced out with the same -merry light-hearted smile; and now he was to _lead the assault_. - -None but a soldier knows all that is comprised in those three simple -words--the coolness, the daring, the lightning glance, the ready -resource, the wary tactics, and the headlong gallantry which must all be -combined successfully to fill that post of honour; and then to think -that the odds are ten to one he never comes back alive! - -As I looked at his athletic frame and handsome, manly face, as I -returned his cordial, off-hand greeting, as courteous to the nameless -Interpreter as it would have been to General Pelissier himself, my heart -tightened to think of what might--nay, what _must_ surely happen on that -fire-swept glacis, unless he bore indeed a life charmed with immunity -from shot and steel. - -Man by man he inspected the Forlorn Hope,--their arms, their ammunition -pouches, their scaling-ladders, all the tackle and paraphernalia of -death. For each he had a word of encouragement, a jest, or a smile. -Ropsley and his company were to remain in support in the advanced -trenches. All was at length reported "ready," and then came the awful -hush that ever ushers in the most desperate deeds--the minutes of pale -and breathless suspense, that fly so quickly and yet seem to pass like -lead--when the boldest cheek is blanched, and the stoutest heart beats -painfully, and the change to action and real peril is felt to be an -unspeakable relief to all. - -A cold wet nose was poked into my hand. Bold had tracked me from the -camp, and had followed me even here; nothing would induce him now to -quit my side, for even the dog seemed to think something awful was -impending, and watched with red, angry eyes and lowered tail and -bristling neck, as if he too had been "told off" for the attack. - -A roar of artillery shakes the air; our allies have opened their fire on -the Malakhoff, and their columns are swarming like bees to the assault. -Battalion after battalion, regiment after regiment, come surging through -the ditch, to break like waves on the sea-shore, as the depressed guns -of the enemy hew awful gaps in their ranks--to break indeed but to -re-form, and as fresh supports keep pressing them on from the rear, to -dash upwards against the earthwork, and to overflow and fling themselves -from the parapet in the face of the Russian gunners below. - -The Muscovite fights doggedly, and without dream of surrender or -retreat. Hand to hand the conflict must be decided with the bayonet, -and the little Zouaves shout, and yell, and stab, and press onward, and -revel, so to speak, in the wild orgy of battle. - -But the Northman is a grim, uncompromising foe, and more than once the -"red pantaloons" waver and give back, and rally, and press on again to -death. Instances of gallantry and self-devotion are rife amongst the -officers. Here, a young captain of infantry flings himself alone upon -the bayonets of the enemy, and falls pierced with a hundred wounds; -there, an old white-headed colonel, _décoré_ up to his chin, draws an -ominous revolver, and threatens to shoot any one of his own men through -the head that shows the slightest disinclination to rush on. "_Ma foi_," -says he, "_c'est pour encourager les autres!_" The southern blood boils -up under the influence of example, and if French troops are once a -little flushed with success, their _élan_, as they call that quality for -which we have no corresponding expression, is irresistible. The -Russians cannot face the impetuosity of their charge; already many of -the guns are spiked, and the gunners bayoneted; the grey-coated columns -are yielding ground foot by foot; fresh troops pour in over the parapet, -for the living are now able to pass unscathed over the dead, with whom -the ditch is filled. The fire of the Russians is slackening, and their -yell dies away fainter on the breeze. A French cheer, wild, joyous, and -unearthly, fills the air,--it thrills in the ears of Pelissier, sitting -immovable on his horse at no great distance from the conflict; his -telescope is pressed to his eye, and he is watching eagerly for the -well-known signal. And now he sees it! A gleam of fierce joy lights up -his features, and as the tricolor of France is run up to the crest of -the Malakhoff, he shuts his glass with a snap, dismounts from his horse, -and rolling himself round in his cloak, lies down for a few minutes' -repose, and observes, with a zest of which none but a Frenchman is -capable, "_Tenez! voilà mon bâton de Maréchal!_" - -His are not the only eyes eagerly watching the progress of the attack; -many a veteran of both armies is busied recalling all his own -experiences and all his knowledge of warfare, to calculate the -probabilities of their success whose task it is to cross that wide and -deadly glacis which is swept by the batteries of the Redan. - -The men are formed for the assault, and the word is given to advance. - -"Now, my lads," says the leader, "keep cool--keep steady--and keep -together--we'll do it handsomely when we're about it. Forward!" - -It is related of him whom Napoleon called "the bravest of the brave," -the famous Ney, that he was the only officer of that day who could -preserve his _sang-froid_ totally unmoved when standing with _his back_ -to a heavy fire. Many a gallant fellow facing the enemy would pay no -more regard to the missiles whistling about his ears, than to the -hailstones of an April shower; but it was quite a different sensation to -_front_ his own advancing troops, and never look round at the grim -archer whose every shaft might be the last. What the French Marshal, -however, piqued himself upon as the acme of personal courage and -conduct, our English leader seems to consider a mere matter-of-course in -the performance of an every-day duty. Step by step, calm, collected, and -good-humoured, he regulates the movements of the attacking force. -Fronting their ranks, as if he were on parade, he brings them out of -their sheltering defences into the iron storm, now pouring forth its -deadly wrath upon that rocky plateau which _must_ be crossed in defiance -of everything. - -"Steady, men," he observes once more, as he forms them for the desperate -effort; "we'll have them _out of that_ in ten minutes. Now, my lads! -Forward, and follow me!" - -The cocked hat is waving amongst the smoke--the daring Colonel is -forward under the very guns--with a British cheer, the Forlorn Hope dash -eagerly on, comrade encouraging comrade, side by side, shoulder to -shoulder--hearts throbbing wild and high, and a grip of iron on good -"Brown Bess." Men live a lifetime in a few such moments. There are two -brothers in that doomed band who have not met for years--they quarrelled -in their hot youth over their father's grave, about the quiet orchard -and the peaceful homestead that each had since longed so painfully to -see once more; and now they have served, with half the globe between -them, and each believes the other to have forgotten him, and the orchard -and the homestead have passed away from their name for ever. They would -weep and be friends if they could meet again. There are but four men -between them at this moment, and two are down, stark and dead, and two -are dragging their mangled bodies slowly to the rear, and the brothers -are face to face under the fatal batteries of the Redan. - -"Is't thou, my lad?" is all the greeting that passes in that wild -moment; but the blackened hands meet with a convulsive clasp, and they -are brothers once more, as when, long ago, they hid their sturdy little -faces in their mother's gown. Thank God for that! In another minute it -would have been too late, for Bill is down, shot through the lungs, his -white belts limp and crimson with blood; and John, with a tear in his -eye, and something betwixt an oath and a prayer upon his lips, is -rushing madly on, for the cocked hat is still waving forward amongst the -smoke. and the Colonel is still cheering them after him into the jaws of -death. - -But soldiers, even British soldiers, are but men, and the fire grows so -deadly that the attacking force cannot but be checked in its headlong -charge. The line breaks--wavers--gives way--the awful glacis is strewed -with dead and dying--groans and curses, and shrieks for "_water! -water!_" mingle painfully with the wild cheers, and the trampling feet, -and the thunder of the guns; but volumes of smoke, curling low and white -over the ground, veil half the horrors of that ghastly scene; yet -through the smoke can be discerned some three or four figures under the -very parapet of the Redan, and the cocked hat and square frame of the -Colonel are conspicuous amongst the group. - -It must have been a strange sight for the few actors that reached it -alive. A handful of men, an officer or two, a retiring enemy, a place -half taken, and an eager longing for reinforcements to complete the -victory. - -An aide-de-camp is despatched to the rear; he starts upon his mission to -traverse that long three hundred yards, swept by a deadly cross-fire, -that blackens and scorches the very turf beneath his feet. Down he goes -headlong, shot through the body ere he has "run the gauntlet" for a -third of the way. Another and another share the same fate! What is to -be done? The case is urgent, yet doubtful; it demands promptitude, yet -requires consideration. Our Colonel is a man who never hesitates or -wavers for an instant. He calls up a young officer of the line, one of -the few survivors on the spot; even as he addresses him, the rifleman on -his right lurches heavily against him, shot through the loins, and a -red-coated comrade on his left falls dead at his feet, yet the Colonel -is, if possible, cooler and more colloquial than ever. - -"What's your name, my young friend?" says he, shaking the ashes from a -short black pipe with which he has been refreshing himself at intervals -with much apparent zest. The officer replies, somewhat astonished, yet -cool and composed as his commander. The Colonel repeats it twice over, -to make sure he has got it right, glances once more at the enemy, then -looking his new acquaintance steadily in the face, observes-- - -"Do I seem to be in a _funk_, young man?" - -"No," replies the young officer, determined not to be outdone, "not the -least bit of one, any more than myself." - -The Colonel laughs heartily. "Very well," says he; "now, if I'm shot, I -trust to you to do me justice. I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I -must communicate with my supports. Every aide-de-camp I send gets -knocked over. I'm no use here alone--I can't take the Redan -single-handed--so I'm going back myself. It's only three hundred yards, -but I can't run quite so fast as I used, so if I'm killed, I shall -expect you to bear witness that I didn't go voluntarily into that -cross-fire because _I was afraid_." - -The young officer promised, and the Colonel started on his perilous -errand. On the success of his mission or the tactics of that attack it -is not my province to enlarge. Amongst all the conflicting opinions of -the public, there is but one as to the daring gallantry and cool -promptitude displayed on that memorable day by the leader of the -assault. - -Every man, however, moves in his own little world, even at the taking of -Sebastopol. It was not for a nameless stranger, holding no rank in the -service, to run into needless danger, and I was merely in the trenches -as a looker-on, therefore did I keep sedulously under cover and out of -fire. It is only the novice who exposes himself unnecessarily, and I -had served too long with Omar Pasha not to appreciate the difference -between the cool, calculating daring that willingly accepts a certain -risk to attain a certain object, and the vainglorious foolhardiness that -runs its head blindly against a wall for the mere display of its own -intrinsic absurdity. - -That great general himself was never known to expose his life -unnecessarily. He would direct the manoeuvres of his regiments, and -display the tactics for which he was so superior, at a safe distance -from the fire of an enemy, as long as he believed himself sufficiently -near to watch every movement, and to anticipate every stratagem of the -adversary; but if it was advisable to encourage his own troops with his -presence, to head a charge, or rally a repulse, who so daring and so -reckless as the fortunate Croatian adventurer? - -And yet, with all my care and all my self-denial--for indeed, on -occasions such as these, curiosity is a powerful motive, and there is a -strange instinct in man's wilful heart that urges him into a fray--I had -a narrow escape of my own life, and lost my oldest friend and comrade -during the progress of the attack. - -I was gazing eagerly through my double glasses--the very same that had -often done me good service in such different scenes--to watch the forms -of those devoted heroes who were staggering and falling in the smoke, -when a stray shell, bursting in the trench behind me, blew my forage-cap -from my head, and sent it spinning over the parapet on to the glacis -beyond. Involuntarily I stretched my hand to catch at it as it flew -away, and Bold, who had been crouching quietly at my heel, seeing the -motion, started off in pursuit. Ere I could check him, the old dog was -over the embankment, and in less than a minute returned to my side with -the cap in his mouth. The men laughed, and cheered him as he laid it at -my feet. - -Poor Bold! poor Bold! he waved his handsome tail, and reared his great -square head as proudly as ever; but there was a wistful expression in -his eye as he looked up in my face, and when I patted him the old dog -winced and moaned as if in pain. He lay down, though quite gently, at -my feet, and let me turn him over and examine him. I thought so--there -it was, the small round mark in his glossy coat, and the dark stain down -his thick foreleg--my poor old friend and comrade, must I lose you too? -Is everything to be taken from me by degrees? My eyes were blinded with -tears--the rough soldiers felt for me, and spared my favourite some -water from their canteens; but he growled when any one offered to touch -him but myself, and he died licking my hand. - -Even in the turmoil and confusion of that wild scene I could mourn for -Bold. He was the one link with my peaceful boyhood, the one creature -that she and I had both loved and fondled, and now _she_ was lost to me -for ever, and Bold lay dead at my feet. Besides, I was fond of him for -his own sake--so faithful, so true, so attached, so brave and -devoted--in truth, I was very, _very_ sorry for poor Bold. - - - - - CHAPTER XL - - THE WAR-MINISTER AT HOME - - -Except at the crisis of great convulsions, when the man with the bayonet -is the only individual that clearly knows what he has got to do and how -to do it, the soldier is but the puppet upon the stage, while the -diplomatist pulls the strings from behind the scenes. Before Sebastopol -the armies of England, France, and Sardinia keep watch and ward, ever -ready for action; at Vienna, the spruce _attaché_ deciphers and makes -his _précis_ of those despatches which decide the soldier's fate. Is it -to be peace or war? Has Russia entered into a league with the Austrian -Government, or is the Kaiser, in his youthful enthusiasm, eager for an -appeal to arms, and forgetful of his defenceless capital, not thirty -leagues from the Polish frontier, and innocent of a single fortified -place between its walls and the enemy, prepared to join heart and hand -with France and England against the common foe? These are questions -everybody asks, but nobody seems able to answer. On the Bourse they -cause a deal of gambling, and a considerable fluctuation in the value of -the florin as computed with reference to English gold. Minor capitalists -rise and fall, and Rothschild keeps on adding heap to heap. Money makes -money, in Austria as in England; nor are those moustached and spectacled -merchants smoking cigars on the Bourse one whit less eager or less -rapacious than our own smooth speculators on the Stock Exchange. The -crowd is a little more motley, perhaps, and a little more demonstrative, -but the object is the same. - -"And what news have you here this morning, my dear sir?" observes a -quiet-looking, well-dressed bystander who has just strolled in, to a -plethoric individual, with a double chin, a double eye-glass, and a red -umbrella, who is making voluminous entries in a huge pocket-book. The -plethoric man bows to the ground, and becomes exceedingly purple in the -face. - -"None, honourable sir, none," he replies, with a circular sweep of his -hat that touches his toes; "the market is flat, honourable sir, flat, -and money, if possible, scarcer than usual." - -Whereat the stout man laughs, but breaks off abruptly, as if much -alarmed at the liberty he has taken. The well-dressed gentleman turns -to some one else with the same inquiry, and, receiving a less cautious -answer, glances at his fat friend, who pales visibly under his eye. -They are all afraid of him here, for he is no other than our old -acquaintance, Monsieur Stein, clean, quiet, and undemonstrative as when -we saw him last in the drawing-room at Edeldorf. Let us follow him as -he walks out and glides gently along the street in his dark, civil -attire, relieved only by a bit of ribbon at the button-hole. - -All great men have their weaknesses. Hercules, resting from his -labours, spun yarns with Omphale; Antony combined fishing and -flirtation; Person loved pale ale, and refreshed himself copiously -therewith; and shall not Monsieur Stein, whose Protean genius can assume -the characters of all these heroes, display his taste for the fine arts -in so picturesque a capital as his own native Vienna? He stops -accordingly at a huge stone basin ornamenting one of its squares, and, -producing his note-book, proceeds to sketch with masterly touches the -magnificent back and limbs of that bronze Triton preparing to launch his -harpoon into the depths below. Sly Monsieur Stein! is it thus you -spread your nets for the captivation of unwary damsels, and are you -always rewarded by so ready a prey as that well-dressed _soubrette_ who -is peeping on tiptoe over your shoulder, and expressing her artless -admiration of your talent in the superlative exclamations of her -Teutonic idiom? - -"Pardon me, honourable sir, that I so bold am, as so to overlook your -wondrously-beautiful design, permit me to see it a little nearer. I -thank you, love-worthy sir." - -Monsieur Stein is too thoroughly Austrian not to be the pink of -politeness. He doffs his hat, and hands her the note-book with a bow. -As she returns it to him an open letter peeps between the leaves, and -they part and march off on their several ways with many expressions of -gratitude and politeness, such as two utter strangers make use of at the -termination of a chance acquaintanceship; yet is the _soubrette_ -strangely like Jeannette, Princess Vocqsal's _femme de chambre_; and the -letter which Monsieur Stein reads so attentively as he paces along the -sunny side of the street, is certainly addressed to that lady in -characters bearing a strong resemblance to the handwriting of Victor, -Count de Rohan. - -Monsieur Stein pockets the epistle--it might be a receipt for -_sour-krout_ for all the effect its perusal has on his impassible -features--and proceeds, still at his equable, leisurely pace, to the -residence of the War-Minister. - -While he mounts the steps to the second floor, on which are situated the -apartments of that functionary, and combs out his smooth moustaches, -waiting the convenience of the porter who answers the bell, let us take -a peep inside. - -The War-Minister is at his wit's end. His morning has been a sadly -troubled one, for he has been auditing accounts, to which pursuit he -cherishes a strong disinclination, and he has received a letter from the -Minister of the Interior, conveying contradictory orders from the -Emperor, of which he cannot make head or tail. Besides this, he has -private annoyances of his own. His intendant has failed to send him the -usual supplies from his estates in Galicia; he is in debt to his tailor -and his coach-maker, but he must have new liveries and an English -carriage against the next Court ball; his favourite charger is lame, and -he does not care to trust himself on any of his other horses; and, above -all, he has sustained an hour's lecture this very morning, when drinking -coffee in his dressing-gown, from Madame la Baronne, his austere and -excellent spouse, commenting in severe terms on his backslidings and -general conduct, the shortcomings of which, as that virtuous dame -affirms, have not failed to elicit the censure of the young Emperor -himself. So the War-Minister has drunk three large tumblers of -_schwartz-bier_, and smoked as many cigars stuck up on end in the bowl -of a meerschaum pipe, the combined effects of which have failed to -simplify the accounts, or to reconcile the contradictory instructions of -the Court. - -He is a large, fine-looking man, considerably above six feet in height. -His grey-blue uniform is buttoned tightly over a capacious chest, -covered with orders, clasps, and medals; his blue eyes and florid -complexion denote health and good-humour, not out of keeping with the -snowy moustaches and hair of some three-score winters. He looks -completely puzzled, and is bestowing an uneasy sort of attention, for -which he feels he must ere long be taken to task, upon a very charming -and well-dressed visitor of the other sex, no less a person, indeed, -than that "_odious intrigante_," as Madame la Baronne calls her, the -Princess Vocqsal. - -She is as much at home here in the War-Minister's apartments as in her -own drawing-room. She never loses her _aplomb_, or her presence of -mind. If his wife were to walk in this minute she would greet her with -amiable cordiality; and, to do Madame la Baronne justice, though she -abuses the Princess in all societies, her greeting would be returned -with the warmth and kindness universally displayed to each other by -women who hate to the death. Till she has got her antagonist _down_, the -female fencer never takes the button off her foil. - -"You are always so amiable and good-humoured, my dear Baron," says the -Princess, throwing back her veil with a turn of her snowy wrist, not -lost upon the old soldier, "that you will, I am sure, not keep us in -suspense. The Prince wishes his nephew to serve the Emperor; he is but a -boy yet. Will he be tall enough for the cavalry? A fine man looks so -well on horseback!" - -The Baron was justly proud of his person. This little compliment and -the glance that accompanied it were not thrown away. He looked pleased, -then remembered his wife, and looked sheepish, then smoothed his -moustache, and inquired the age of the candidate. - -"Seventeen next birthday," replied the Princess. "If it were not for -this horrid war we would send him to travel a little. Do you think the -war will last, Monsieur le Baronne?" added she, naïvely. - -"You must ask the Foreign Minister about that," replied he, completely -thrown off his guard by her innocence. "We are only soldiers here, we -do not pull the strings, Madame. We do what we are told, and serve the -Emperor and the ladies," he added, with a low bow and a leer. - -"Then will you put him into the Cuirassiers immediately, Monsieur?" said -the Princess, with her sweetest smile; "we wish no time to be lost--now -_do_, to please _me_." - -The Baron was rather in a dilemma; like all men in office, he hated to -bind himself by a promise, but how to refuse that charming woman -anything?--at last he stammered out--"Wait a little, Madame, wait, and I -will do what I can for you; it is impossible just now, for we are going -to reduce the army by sixty thousand men." - -While he spoke, Monsieur Stein was announced, and the Princess rose to -take her leave; she had got all she wanted now, and did not care to face -a thousand Baronesses. As she went downstairs, she passed Monsieur -Stein without the slightest mark of recognition, and he, too, looked -admiringly after her, as if he had never seen her before. The Baron, by -this time pining for more _schwartz-bier_, and another cigar, devoutly -hoped his new visitor, with whose person and profession he was quite -familiar, would not stay long; and the Princess, as she tripped past the -_Huissier_ at the entrance, muttered, "Sixty thousand men--then it -_will_ be peace: I thought so all along. My poor Baron! what a soft old -creature you are! Well, I have tried everything now, and this -speculating is the strongest excitement of all, even better than making -Victor jealous!" but she sighed as she said it, and ordered her coachman -to drive on at once to her stock-broker. - -The presence of Monsieur Stein did not serve to re-establish either the -clear-headedness or the good-humour of the War-Minister. The ostensible -errand on which he came was merely to obtain some trifling military -information concerning the garrison at Pesth, without which the -co-operation of the police would not have been so effectual, in annoying -still further the already exasperated Hungarians; but in the course of -conversation, Monsieur Stein subjected the Baron to a process familiarly -called "sucking the brains," with such skill that, ere the door was -closed on his unwelcome visitor, the soldier felt he had placed -himself--as indeed was intended--completely in the power of the -police-agent. All his sins of omission and commission, his neglect of -certain contracts, and his issuing of certain orders; his unpardonable -lenity at his last tour of inspection, his unlucky expression of -opinions at direct variance with those of his young Imperial -master:--all these failures and offences he felt were now registered in -letters never to be effaced,--on the records of Monsieur Stein's secret -report; and what was more provoking still, was to think that he had, -somehow or another, been insensibly led on to plead guilty to -half-a-dozen derelictions, which he felt he might as consistently have -denied. - -As he sat bolt upright in his huge leathern chair, and turned once more -to "sublime tobacco" for consolation and refreshment, his thoughts -floated back to the merry days when he was young and slim, and had no -cares beyond his squadron of Uhlans, no thought for the morrow but the -parade and the ball. "Ah!" sighed the Baron to himself as he knocked -the ash off his cigar with a ringed fore-finger, "I would I were a -youngling again; the troop-accounts were easily kept, the society of my -comrades was pleasanter than the Court. One never meets with such beer -now as we had at Debreczin; and oh! those Hungarian ladies, how -delightful it was to waltz before one grew fat, and flirt before one -grew sage. I might have visited the charming Princess then, and no one -would have found fault with me; no one would have objected--Heigh-ho! -there was no Madame la Baronne in those days--_now_ it is so different. -_Sapperment_! Here she comes!" - -Though the Baron was upwards of six feet, and broad in -proportion--though he had distinguished himself more than once before -the enemy, and was covered with orders of merit and decorations for -bravery--nay, though he was the actual head of the six hundred thousand -heroes who constituted the Austrian army, he quailed before that little -shrivelled old woman, with her mouth full of black teeth, and her hair -dressed _à l'Impératrice_. - -We profane not the mysteries of Hymen--"Caudle" is a name of no -exclusive nationality. We leave the Baron, not without a shudder, to -the salutary discipline of his excellent monitress. - - - - - CHAPTER XLI - - WHEELS WITHIN WHEELS - - -We must follow Monsieur Stein, for that worthy has got something to do; -nay, he generally has his hands full, and cannot, indeed, be accused of -eating the bread of idleness. It is a strange system of government, -that of the Austrian empire; and is, we believe, found to answer as -badly as might be expected from its organisation. The State takes so -paternal an interest in the sayings and doings of its children, as to -judge it expedient to support a whole staff of officials, whose sole -duty it is to keep the Government informed respecting the habits, -actions, everyday life, and secret thoughts and opinions of the general -public. Nor do these myrmidons, whose number exceeds belief, and who -add seriously to the national expenditure, fail to earn their pay with -praiseworthy diligence. In all societies, in all places of pleasure or -business, where half-a-dozen people may chance to congregate, _there_ -will be an agent of police, always in plain clothes, and generally the -least conspicuous person in the throng. The members of this corps are, -as may be supposed, chosen for their general intelligence and aptitude, -are usually well-informed, agreeable men, likely to lead strangers into -conversation, and excellent linguists. As an instance of their -ubiquity, I may mention an incident that occurred within my own -knowledge to an officer in the British service, when at Vienna, during -the war. That officer was dining in the _salon_ of an hotel, and there -were present, besides his own party, consisting of Englishmen, and one -Hungarian much disaffected to the Government, only two other strangers, -sitting quite at the farther extremity of the room, and apparently out -of ear-shot. The conversation at my friend's table was, moreover, -carried on in English, and turned upon the arrest of a certain Colonel -Türr by the Austrian authorities at Bucharest, a few days previously. - -This Colonel Türr, be it known, was a Hungarian who had deserted from -the Austrian service, and entering that of her Majesty Queen Victoria, -had been employed in some commissariat capacity in Wallachia, and taken -prisoner at Bucharest by the very regiment to which he had previously -belonged. The question was much vexed and agitated at the time, as to -the Austrian right over a deserter on a neutral soil, and Colonel Türr -became for the nonce an unconscious hero. The officer to whom I have -alluded, having listened attentively to the _pros_ and _cons_ of the -case, as set forth by his friends, dismissed the subject with military -brevity, in these words:--"If you say he deserted his regiment before an -enemy, I don't care what countryman he is, or in whose service, _the -sooner they hang him the better!_" This ill-advised remark, be it -observed, was made _sotto voce_, and in his own language. His surprise -may be imagined when, on perusing the Government papers the following -morning, he read the whole conversation, translated into magniloquent -German, and detailed at length as being the expressed opinion of the -British army and the British public on the case of Colonel Türr. - -I am happy to be able to observe, _en passant_, that the latter -gentleman was not hanged at all, but escaped, after a deal of diplomatic -correspondence, with a six weeks' imprisonment in the fortress of -Comorn, and has since been seen taking his pleasure in London and -elsewhere. - -To return to Monsieur Stein. It is evening, and those who have -permission from the police to give a party, have lighted their lamps and -prepared their saloons for those receptions in which the well-bred of -all nations, and particularly the ladies, take so incomprehensible a -delight. At Vienna, every house must be closed at ten o'clock; and those -who wish to give balls or evening parties must obtain a direct -permission to do so, emanating from the Emperor himself. So when they -_do_ go out, they make the most of it, and seem to enjoy the pleasure -with an additional zest for the prohibition to which it is subject. - -Let us follow Monsieur Stein into that brilliantly-lighted room, through -which he edges his way so unobtrusively, and where, amongst rustling -toilettes, crisp and fresh from the dressmaker, and various uniforms on -the fine persons of the Austrian aristocracy, his own modest attire -passes unobserved. This is no _bourgeois_ gathering, no assemblage of -the middle rank, tainted by mercantile enterprise, or disgraced by -talent, which presumes to rise superior to _blood_. No such thing; they -are all the "_haute volée_" here, the "_crème de la crème_," as they -themselves call it in their bad French and their conventional jargon. -Probably Monsieur Stein is the only man in the room that cannot count at -least sixteen quarterings--no such easy matter to many a member of our -own House of Peers; and truth to tell, the Austrian aristocracy are a -personable, fine-looking race as you shall wish to see. Even the eye of -our imperturbable police-agent lights up with a ray of what in any other -eye would be admiration, at the scene which presents itself as he -enters. The rooms are spacious, lofty, and magnificently furnished in -the massive, costly style that accords so well with visitors in full -dress. The floors are beautifully inlaid and polished; as bright, and -nearly as slippery, as ice. The walls are covered with the _chef -d'oeuvres_ of the old masters, and even the dome-like ceilings are -decorated with mythological frescoes, such as would convert an -enthusiast to paganism at once. Long mirrors fill up the interstices -between the panellings, and reflect many a stalwart gallant, and many a -"lady bright and fair." There is no dancing, it is merely a -"reception"; and amongst the throng of beauties congregated in that -assembly, impassible Monsieur Stein cannot but admit that the most -captivating of them all is Princess Vocqsal. - -So thinks the War-Minister, who, forgetful of accounts and -responsibilities, regardless even of the threatening glances darted at -him from the other end of the room by his excellent wife, is leaning -over the back of the Princess's seat, and whispering, in broad Viennese -German, a variety of those soft platitudes which gentlemen of -three-score are apt to fancy will do them as good service at that age as -they did thirty years ago. The Baron is painfully agreeable, and she is -listening, with a sweet smile and a pleasant expression of countenance, -assumed for very sufficient reasons. In the first place, she owes him a -good turn for the information acquired this morning, and the Princess -always pays her debts when it costs her nothing; in the second, she -wishes, for motives of her own, to strengthen her influence with the -Court party as much as possible; and lastly, she enjoys by this means -the innocent pleasure of making two people unhappy--viz. Madame la -Baronne, who is fool enough to be jealous of her fat old husband; and -one other watching her from the doorway, with a pale, eager face, and an -expression of restless, gnawing anxiety, which it is painful to behold. - -Victor de Rohan, what are you doing here, like a moth fluttering round a -candle? wasting your time, and breaking your heart for a woman that is -not worth one throb of its generous life-blood; that cannot appreciate -your devotion, or even spare your feelings? Why are you not at -Edeldorf, where you have left _her_ sad and lonely, one tear on whose -eyelash is worth a thousand of the false smiles so freely dealt by that -heartless, artificial, worn woman of the world? For shame, Victor! for -shame! And yet, as our friend the Turk says, "_Kismet_! It is destiny!" - -He is dressed in a gorgeous Hussar uniform, his own national costume, -and right well does its close fit and appropriate splendour become the -stately beauty of the young Count de Rohan. At his side hangs the very -sword that flashed so keenly by the waters of the Danube, forward in the -headlong charge of old Iskender Bey. On its blade is engraved the -Princess's name; she knows it as well as he does, yet ten to one she -will pretend to forget all about it, should he allude to the subject -to-night. Ah! the blade is as bright as it was in those merry -campaigning days, but Victor's face has lost for ever the lightsome -expression of youth; the lines of passion and self-reproach are stamped -upon his brow, and hollowed round his lip, and he has passed at one -stride from boyhood to middle age. - -He makes a forced movement, as though to speak to her, but his button is -held by a jocose old gentleman, whose raptures must find vent on the -engrossing topic of Marie Taglioni's graceful activity; and he has to -weather the whole person and draperies of a voluminous German dowager -ere he can escape from his tormentor. In the meantime Monsieur Stein -has been presented to the Princess, and she allows him to lead her into -the tea-room, for a cup of that convenient beverage which continental -nations persist in considering as possessed of medicinal virtue. - -"I have the unhappiness to have escaped Madame's recollection," observed -the police-agent, as he placed a chair for the Princess in a corner -secure from interruption, and handed her cup; "it is now my good fortune -to be able to restore something that she has lost," and he looked at her -with those keen grey eyes, as though to read her very soul, while he -gave her the letter which had been placed in his pocket-book by -faithless Jeannette. "If she cares for him," thought Monsieur Stein, -"she will surely show it now, and I need take no further trouble with -_her_. If not, she is the very woman I want, for the fool is madly in -love with her, and upon my word it is not surprising!" - -Monsieur Stein looked at women with hypercritical fastidiousness, but, -as he himself boasted, at the same time, quite "_en philosophe_." - -The Princess, however, was a match for the police-agent; she never -winced, or moved a muscle of her beautiful countenance. With a polite -"Excuse me," she read the letter through from beginning to end, and -turning quietly round inquired, "How came you by this, Monsieur?" - -Unless it leads to a _revoke_, a lie counts for nothing with a -police-agent, so he answered at once, "Sent to my _bureau_ from the -office, in consequence of an informality in the post-mark." - -"You have read it?" pursued the Princess, still calm and unmoved. - -"On my honour, no!" answered he, with his hand on his heart, and a low -bow. - -She would have made the better spy of the two, for she could read even -his impassible face, and she knew as well as he did himself that he had, -so she quietly returned him the letter, of which she judged, and -rightly, that he had kept a copy; and laying her gloved hand on his -sleeve, observed, with an air of bewitching candour--"After that affair -at Comorn, you and I can have no secrets from each other, Monsieur. -Tell me frankly what it is that your employers require, and the price -they are willing to pay for my co-operation." - -She could not resist the temptation of trying her powers, even on -Monsieur Stein; and he, although a police-agent, was obliged to succumb -to that low, sweet voice, and the pleading glance by which it was -accompanied. A little less calmly than was his wont, and with almost a -flush upon his brow, he began-- - -"You are still desirous of that appointment we spoke of yesterday for -the Prince?" - -"_Ma foi_, I am," she answered, with a merry smile; "without it we shall -be ruined, for we are indeed overwhelmed with debt." - -"You also wish for the earliest intelligence possessed by the Government -as to the issues of peace and war?" - -"Of course I do, my dear Monsieur Stein; how else can I speculate to -advantage?" - -"And you would have the attainder taken off your cousin's estates in the -Banat in your favour?" - -The Princess's eyes glistened, and a deep flush overspread her face. -This was more than she had ever dared to hope for. This would raise her -to affluence, nay, to splendour, once again. No price would be too -great to pay for this end, and she told Monsieur Stein so, although she -kept down her raptures and stilled her beating heart the while. - -"All this, Princess, I can obtain for you," said he; "all this has been -promised me, and I have got it in writing. In less than a month the -Government will have redeemed its pledge, and in return you shall do us -one little favour." - -"_C'est un trahison, n'est ce pas?_" she asked quickly, but without any -appearance of shame or anger; "I know it by the price you offer. Well, -I am not scrupulous--say on." - -"Scarcely that," he replied, evidently emboldened by her coolness; "only -a slight exertion of feminine influence, of which no woman on earth has -so much at command as yourself. Listen, Princess; in three words I will -tell you all. Count de Rohan loves you passionately--madly. You know -it yourself;--forgive my freedom; between you and me there must be no -secrets. You can do what you will with him."--(He did not see her -blush, for she had turned away to put down her cup.)--"He will refuse -you nothing. This is your task:--there is another conspiracy hatching -against the Government; its plot is not yet ripe, but it numbers in its -ranks some of the first men in Hungary. Your compatriots are very -stanch; even I can get no certain information. Several of the -disaffected are yet unknown to me. Young Count de Rohan has a list of -their names; that list I trust to you to obtain. Say, Princess, is it a -bargain?" - -She was fitting her glove accurately to her taper fingers. - -"And the man that you were good enough to say adores me so devotedly, -Monsieur," she observed, without lifting her eyes to his face, "what -will you do with him? shoot him as you did his cousin in 1848?" - -"He shall have a free pardon," replied the police-agent, "and permission -to reside on his lands. He is not anxious to leave the vicinity of the -Waldenberg, I believe," he added mischievously. - -"_Soit_," responded the Princess, as she rose to put an end to the -interview. "Now, if you will hand me my bouquet we will go into the -other room." - -As he bowed and left her, Monsieur Stein felt a certain uncomfortable -misgiving that he had been guilty of some oversight in his game. In -vain he played it all again in his own head, move for move, and check -for check; he could not detect where the fault lay, and yet his fine -instinct told him that somewhere or another he had made a mistake. "It -is all that woman's impassible face," he concluded at last, in his -mental soliloquy, "that forbids me to retrieve a blunder or detect an -advantage. And what a beautiful face it is!" he added almost aloud, as -for an instant the official was absorbed in the man. - -In the meantime Victor was getting very restless, very uncomfortable, -and, not to mince matters, very cross. - -No sooner had the Princess returned to the large _salon_ than he stalked -across the room, twirling his moustaches with an air of unconcealed -annoyance, and asked her abruptly, "How she came to know that -ill-looking Monsieur Stein, and why he had been flirting with her for -the last half-hour in the tea-room?" - -"That gentleman in plain clothes?" answered she, with an air of utter -unconsciousness and perfect good-humour; "that is one of my ancient -friends, Monsieur le Comte; shall I present him to you?" - -This was another refined method of tormenting her lovers. The Princess -had one answer to all jealous inquiries as to those whom she favoured -with her notice--"_Un de mes anciens amis_," was a vague and general -description, calculated to give no very definite or satisfactory -information to a rival. - -"Have a care, Madame," whispered Victor angrily; "you will make some of -your ancient friends into your deadliest enemies if you try them so -far." - -She looked lovingly up at him, and he softened at once. - -"Now it is _you_ that are unkind, Victor," she said in a low soft voice, -every tone of which thrilled to the young Count's heart. "Why will you -persist in quarrelling with me? I, who came here this very evening to -see you and to do you a kindness?" - -"Did you know I should be in Vienna so soon?" he exclaimed eagerly. -"Did you receive my letter?" - -"I did, indeed," she replied, with a covert smile, as she thought of the -mode in which that missive had reached her, and she almost laughed -outright (for the Princess had a keen sense of the ludicrous) at the -strange impersonation made by Monsieur Stein of Cupid's postman; "but, -Victor," she added, with another beaming look, "I go away to-morrow. -Very early in the morning I must leave Vienna." - -He turned paler than before, and bit his lip. "So I might as well have -stayed at home," he exclaimed in a voice of bitter annoyance and pique, -none the less bitter that it had to be toned down to the concert pitch -of good society. "Was it to see you for five minutes here in a crowd -that I travelled up so eagerly and in such haste? To make my bow, I -suppose, like the merest acquaintance, and receive my _congé_. Pardon, -Madame la Princesse, I need not receive it twice. I wish you -good-evening; I am going now!" - -She, too, became a shade paler, but preserved the immovable good-humour -on which she piqued herself, as she made him a polite bow, and turned -round to speak to the Russian Minister, who, covered with orders, at -that moment came up to offer his obeisance to the well-known Princess -Vocqsal. Had he not constant advices from his intriguing Court to -devote much of his spare time to this fascinating lady? And had she not -once in her life baffled all the wiles of St. Petersburg, and stood -untempted by its bribes? Ill-natured people affirmed that another Power -paid a higher price, which accounted satisfactorily for the lady's -patriotism, but the Autocrat's Minister had his secret orders -notwithstanding. - -And now she is deep in a lively argument, in which polished sarcasm and -brilliant repartee are bandied from lip to lip, each pointed phrase -eliciting a something better still from the Princess's soft mouth, till -her audience--diplomatists of many years' standing, warriors shrewd in -council and dauntless in the field, grey ambassadors and beardless -_attachés_--hang enraptured on her accents, and watch her looks with an -unaccountable fascination; whilst Victor de Rohan, hurt, moody, and -discontented, stalks fiercely to the doorway and mutters to himself, "Is -it for this I have given up home, friends, honour, and self-respect? To -be a mere puppet in the hands of a coquette, a woman's plaything, and -not even a favourite plaything, after all!" - -Ladies have a peculiar gift which is enjoyed by no other members of the -creation whatsoever. We allude to that extraordinary property by which, -without any exertion of the visual organs, they can discern clearly all -that is going on above, below, around, and behind them. If a man wants -to _see_ a thing he requires to _look at it_. Not so with the other sex. -Their subtler instinct enables them to detect that which must be made -palpable to _our_ grosser senses. How else could Princess Vocqsal, -whose back was turned to him, and who was occupied in conversation with -the _élite_ of Austrian diplomatic society, arrive at the certainty that -Victor was not gone, as he had threatened--that he still lingered -unwillingly about the doorway, and now hailed as deliverers those prosy -acquaintances from whom, in the early part of the evening, he had been -so impatient to escape? - -And yet he despised himself for his want of manhood and resolution the -while; and yet he reproached himself with his slavish submission and -unworthy cowardice; and yet he lingered on in hopes of one more glance -from her eye, one more pressure from her soft gloved hand. He had -parted with her in anger before, and too well he knew the bitter -wretchedness of the subsequent hours; he had not fortitude enough, he -_dared_ not face such an ordeal again. - -So she knew he was not going yet; and, confident in her own powers, -pleased with her position, and proud of her conquests, she sparkled on. - -"That's a clever woman," said an English _attaché_ to his friend, as -they listened in the circle of her admirers. - -And the friend, who was a little of a satirist, a little of a -philosopher, a little of a poet, and yet, strange to say, a thorough man -of the world, replied-- - -"Too clever by half, my boy, or I'm very much mistaken. Ninety-nine -women out of a hundred are natural-born angels, but the hundredth is a -devil incarnate, and _that's_ her number, Charlie, you may take my word -for it!" - -And now a strange movement rises in that crowded assembly. A buzz of -voices is heard--lower, but more marked than the ordinary hum of -conversation. Something seems to have happened. A lady has fainted, or -an apoplectic general been taken suddenly ill, or a candelabrum has -fallen, and the magnificent hotel is even now on fire? None of these -casualties, however, have occurred. Voices rise higher in question and -reply. "Is it true?"--"I can't believe it!"--"They knew nothing of it -to-day on the Bourse."--"Another stock-jobbing report."--"Immense loss -on both sides." These are the disjointed sentences that reach the ear, -mingled with such terms as the Malakhoff--the Redan--the north -side--General Pelissier, etc. etc. English and French diplomatists -exchange curious glances, and at length rumour takes a definite form, -and it is boldly asserted that intelligence has that day arrived of the -fall of Sebastopol. - -Tongues are loosened now. Surmise and speculation are rife upon future -events. Men speak as they wish, and notwithstanding the presence of -Monsieur Stein and several other secret agents of police, many a bold -opinion is hazarded as to the intentions of the Government and the -issues of the great contest. Princess Vocqsal scarcely breathes while -she listens. If, indeed, this should lead to peace, her large -investments will realise golden profits. She feels all the palpitating -excitement of the gambler, yet does the hue not deepen on her cheek, nor -the lustre kindle brighter in her eye. Monsieur Stein, who alone knows -her secrets, as it is his business to know the secrets of every one, -feels his very soul stirred within him at such noble self-command. - -For a moment he thinks that were he capable of human weaknesses he could -_love_ that woman; and in pure admiration, as one who would fain prove -still further a beautiful piece of mechanism, he steps up to the -Princess, and informs her that "Now, indeed, doubt is at an end, for -reliable intelligence has arrived that Sebastopol has fallen!" - -"Sebastopol has fallen," she repeats with her silver laugh; "then the -war has at last really begun!" - -Her audience applaud once more. "_Ma foi, ce n'est pas mal_," says the -French Minister, and Monsieur Stein is on the verge of adoration; but -there is by this time a general move towards the door: carriages are -being called, and it is time to go away, the departure of the guests -being somewhat accelerated by the important news which has just been -made public. Victor is still lingering on the staircase. Many a bright -eye looks wistfully on his handsome form, many a soft heart would -willingly waken an interest in the charming young Count de Rohan, but -the Hungarian has caught the malady in its deadliest form--the "love -fever," as his own poets term it, is wasting his heart to the core, and -for him, alas! there is but one woman on earth, and she is coming -downstairs at this moment, attended by the best-dressed and best-looking -_attaché_ of the French Legation. - -Somewhat to this young gentleman's disgust, she sends him to look for -her carriage, and taking Victor's arm, which he is too proud to offer, -she bids him lead her to the cloak-room, and shawl her as he used to do -with such tender care. - -He relents at once. What _is_ there in this woman that she can thus -turn and twist him at her will? She likes him best thus--when he is -haughty and rebellious, and she fears that at last she may have driven -him too far and have lost him altogether; the uncertainty creates an -interest and excitement, which is pleasure akin to pain, but it is so -delightful to win him back again,--_such_ a triumph to own him and -tyrannise over him once more! It is at moments of reconciliation such as -these that the Princess vindicates her woman-nature, and becomes a very -woman to the heart. - -"You are angry with me, Victor," she whispers, leaning heavily on his -arm, and looking downwards as she speaks; "angry with me, and without a -cause. You would not listen to me an hour ago, you were so cross and -impatient. Will you listen to me now?" - -The tears were standing in the strong man's eyes. "Speak on," he said; -"you do with me what you like, I could listen to you for ever." - -"You were irritated because I told you I was about to leave Vienna. You -have avoided me the whole evening, and left me to be bored and annoyed -by that wearisome tribe of diplomatists, with their flat witticisms and -their eternal politics. Why did you not stay to hear me out? Victor, -it is true I go to-morrow, but I go to the Waldenberg." - -How changed his face was now; his eye sparkled and his whole countenance -lightened up. He looked like a different man. He could only press the -arm that clung to his own; he could not speak. - -"Will you continue to _bouder_ me?" proceeded the Princess in a playful, -half-malicious tone; "or will you forgive me and be friends for that -which is, after all, your own fault? Oh, you men! how hasty and violent -you are; it is lucky we are so patient and so good-tempered. The -Waldenberg is not so very far from Edeldorf. You might ask me there for -your _jour de fête_. I have not forgotten it, you see. Not a word -more, Count de Rohan; I must leave you now. Here is my carriage. -Adieu,--no, not adieu, _mon ami, au revoir_!" - -Why was it such a different world to Victor from what it had been ten -short minutes ago, from what it would assuredly be the next time they -met, and her caprice and _coquetterie_ were again exhibited to drive him -wild? Was it worth all these days of uncertainty and anxious longing; -all these fits of jealousy and agonies of self-reproach; to be -deliriously happy every now and then for a short ten minutes? Was any -woman on earth worthy of all that Victor de Rohan sacrificed for the -indulgence of his guilty love? Probably not, but it would have been -hard to convince him. He was not as wise as Solomon; yet Solomon, with -all his wisdom, seems to have delivered himself up a willing captive to -disgrace and bondage--fettered by a pair of white arms--held by a thread -of silken hair. Oh, vanity of vanities! "_this is_ also vanity and -vexation of spirit." - - - - - CHAPTER XLII - - "TOO LATE" - - -For a wounded campaigner on crutches, or a wasted convalescent slowly -recovering from an attack of Crimean fever, there are few better places -for the re-establishment of health than the hotel at Therapia. It is -refreshing to hear the ripple of the Bosphorus not ten feet distant from -one's bedroom window; it is life itself to inhale the invigorating -breeze that sweeps down, unchecked and uncontaminated, from the Black -Sea; it is inspiriting to gaze upon the gorgeous beauty of the Asiatic -coast, another continent not a mile away. And then the smaller -accessories of comfortable apartments, good dinners, civilised luxuries, -and European society, form no unwelcome contrast to the Crimean tent, -the soldier's rations, and the wearisome routine of daily and hourly -duty. - -But a few days after the taking of Sebastopol, I was once more in -Turkey. Ropsley, the man of iron nerves and strong will--the man whom -danger had spared, and sickness had hitherto passed by, was struck down -by fever--that wasting, paralysing disease so common to our countrymen -in an Eastern climate--and was so reduced and helpless as to be utterly -incapable of moving without assistance. He had many friends, for -Ropsley was popular in his regiment and respected throughout the army; -but none were so thoroughly disengaged as I; it seemed as if I could now -be of little use in any capacity, and to my lot it fell to place my old -school-fellow on board ship, and accompany him to Therapia, _en route_ -for England on sick leave. - -My own affairs, too, required that I should revisit Somersetshire before -long. The wreck of my father's property, well nursed and taken care of -by a prudent man of business, had increased to no contemptible provision -for a nameless child. If I chose to return to England, I should find -myself a landed proprietor of no inconsiderable means, should be enabled -to assume a position such as many a man now fighting his way in the -world would esteem the acme of human felicity, and for me it would be -but dust and ashes! What cared I for broad acres, local influence, good -investments, and county respectability--all the outward show and empty -shadows for which people are so apt to sacrifice the real blessings of -life? What was it to me that I might look round from my own dining-room -on my own domain, with my own tenants waiting to see me in the hall? An -empty heart can have no possessions; a broken spirit is but a beggar in -the midst of wealth, whilst the whole universe, with all its glories, -belongs alone to him who is at peace with himself. I often think how -many a man there is who lives out his three-score years and ten, and -never knows what _real_ life is, after all. A boyhood passed in vain -aspirations--a manhood spent in struggling for the impossible--an old -age wasted in futile repinings, such is the use made by how many of our -fellow-creatures of that glorious streak of light which we call -existence, that intervenes between the eternity which hath been, and the -eternity which shall be? Oh! to lie down and rest, and look back upon -the day's hard labour, and feel that something has been wrought--that -something has been _won!_ and so to sleep--happy here--happy for -evermore. Well, on some natures happiness smiles even here on earth--God -forbid it should be otherwise!--and some must content themselves with -duty instead. Who knows which shall have the best of it when all is -over? For me, it was plain at this period that I must do my _devoir_, -and leave all to Time, the great restorer in the moral, as he is the -great destroyer in the physical, world. The years of excitement (none -know how strong) that I had lately passed, followed by a listless, -hopeless inactivity, had produced a reaction on my spirits which it was -necessary to conquer and shake off. I resolved to return to England, to -set my house in order--to do all the good in my power, and first of all, -strenuously to commence with that which lay nearest my hand, although it -was but the humble task of nursing my old school-fellow through an -attack of low fever. - -My patient possessed one of those strong and yet elastic natures which -even sickness seems unable thoroughly to subdue. The Ropsley on a couch -of suffering and lassitude, was the same Ropsley that confronted the -enemy's fire so coolly in the Crimea, and sneered at the follies of his -friends so sarcastically in St. James's street. Ill as he was, and -utterly prostrated in body, he was clear-headed and ready-witted as -ever. With the help of a wretchedly bad grammar, he was rapidly picking -up Turkish, by no means an easy language for a beginner; and, taking -advantage of my society, was actually entering upon the rudiments of -Hungarian, a tongue which it is next to impossible for any one to -acquire who has not spoken it, as I had done, in earliest childhood. He -was good-humoured and patient, too, far more than I should have -expected, and was never anxious or irritable, save about his letters. I -have seen him, however, turn away from a negative to the eager inquiry -"Any letters for me?" with an expression of heart-sick longing that it -pained me to witness on that usually haughty and somewhat sneering -countenance. - -But it came at last. Not many mornings after our arrival at Therapia -there was a letter for Ropsley, which seemed to afford him unconcealed -satisfaction, and from that day the Guardsman mended rapidly, and began -to talk of getting up and packing his things, and starting westward once -more. - -So it came to pass that, with the help of his servant, I got him out of -bed and dressed him, and laid him on the sofa at the open window, where -he could see the light caïques dancing gaily on the waters, and the -restless sea-fowl flitting eternally to and fro, and could hear the -shouts of the Turkish boatmen, adjuring each other, very unnecessarily, -not to be too hasty; and the discordant cries of the Greek population -scolding, and cheating, and vociferating on the quay. - -We talked of Hungary. I loved to talk of it now, for was it not _her_ -country of whom I must think no more? And Ropsley's manner was kinder, -and his voice softer, than I had ever thought it before. Poor fellow! -he was weak with his illness, perhaps, yet hitherto I had remarked no -alteration in his cold, impassible demeanour. - -At last he took my hand, and in a hollow voice he said--"Vere, you have -returned me good for evil. You have behaved to me like a brother. -Vere, I believe you really are a Christian!" - -"I hope so," I replied quietly, for what had I but that? - -"Yes," he resumed, "but I don't mean conventionally, because your -godfathers and godmothers at your baptism said you were--I mean -_really_. I don't believe there is a particle of _humbug_ about you. -Can you forgive your enemies?" - -"I have already told you so," I answered; "don't you remember that night -in the trenches? besides, Ropsley, I shall never consider you my enemy." - -"That is exactly what cuts me to the heart," he replied, flushing up -over his wan, wasted face. "I have injured you more deeply than any one -on earth, and I have received nothing but kindness in return. Often and -often I have longed to tell you all--how I had wronged you, and how I -had repented, but my pride forbade me till to-day. It is dreadful to -think that I might have died, and never confessed to you how hard and -how unfeeling I have been. Listen to me, and then forgive me if you -can. Oh, Vere, Vere! had it not been for me and my selfishness, you -might have married Constance Beverley!" - -I felt I was trembling all over; I covered my face with my hands and -turned away, but I bade him go on. - -"Her father was never averse to you from the first. He liked you, Vere, -personally, and still more for the sake of your father, his old friend. -There was but one objection. I need not dwell upon it; and even that he -could have got over, for he was most anxious to see his daughter -married, and to one with whom he could have made his own terms. He was -an unscrupulous man, Sir Harry, and dreadfully pressed for money. When -in that predicament people will do things that at other times they would -be ashamed of, as I know too well. And the girl too, Vere, she loved -you--I am sure of it--she loved you, poor girl, with all her heart and -soul." - -I looked him straight in the face--"Not a word of _her_, Ropsley, as you -are a gentleman!" I said. Oh, the agony of that moment! and yet it was -not all pain. - -"Well," he proceeded, "Sir Harry consulted me about the match. You know -how intimate we were, you know what confidence he had in my judgment. -If I had been generous and honourable, if I had been such a man as -_you_, Vere, how much happier we should all be now; but no, I had my own -ends in view, and I determined to work out my own purpose, without -looking to the right or left, without turning aside for friend or foe. -Besides, I hardly knew you then, Vere. I did not appreciate your good -qualities. I did not know your courage, and constancy, and patience, -and kindliness. I did not know yours was just the clinging, womanly -nature, that would never get over the crushing of its best -affections--and I know it now too well. Oh, Vere, you never can forgive -me! And yet," he added, musingly, more to himself than to me,--"and -yet, even had I known all this, had you been my own brother, I fear my -nature was then so hard, so pitiless, so uncompromising, that I should -have gone straight on towards my aim, and blasted your happiness without -scruple or remorse. _Remorse_," and the old look came over him, the old -sneering look, that wreathed those handsome features in the wicked smile -of a fallen angel--"if a man means to _repent_ of what he has done, he -had better not _do it_. My maxim has always been, 'never look -back,'--'_vestigia, nulla retrorsum_'--and yet to-day I cannot help -retracing, ay, and bitterly _regretting_, the past. - -"I have told you I had my own ends in view. I wished to marry the -heiress myself. Not that I loved her, Vere--do not be angry with me for -the confession--I never loved her the least in the world. She was far -too placid, too conventional, too like other girls, to make the -slightest impression on me. My ideal of a woman is, a bold, strong -nature, a keen intellect, a daring mind, and a dazzling beauty that -others must fall down and worship. I never was one of your -sentimentalists. A violet may be a very pretty flower, and smell very -sweet, but I like a camellia best, and all the better because you -require a hothouse to raise it in. But, if I did not care for Miss -Beverley, I cared a good deal for Beverley Manor, and I resolved that, -come what might, Beverley Manor should one day be mine. The young lady -I looked upon as an encumbrance that must necessarily accompany the -estate. You know how intimate I became with her father, you know the -trust he reposed in me, and the habit into which he fell, of doing -nothing without my advice. That trust, I now acknowledge to you, I -abused shamefully; of that habit I took advantage, solely to further my -own ends, totally irrespective of my friend. He confided to me in very -early days his intention of marrying his daughter to the son of his old -friend. He talked it over with me as a scheme on which he had set his -heart, and, above all, insisted on the advantage to himself of making, -as he called it, his own terms with you about settlements, etc. I have -already told you he was involved in difficulties, from which his -daughter's marriage could alone free him, with the consent of her -husband. I need not enter into particulars. I have the deeds and law -papers at my fingers' ends, for I like to understand a business -thoroughly if I embark on it at all, but it is no question of such -matters now. Well, Vere, at first I was too prudent to object overtly -to the plan. Sir Harry, as you know, was an obstinate, wilful man, and -such a course would have been the one of all others most calculated to -wed him more firmly than ever to his original intention; but I weighed -the matter carefully with him day by day, now bringing forward arguments -in favour of it, now starting objections, till I had insensibly -accustomed him to consider it by no means as a settled affair. Then I -tried all my powers upon the young lady, and there, I confess to you -freely, Vere, I was completely foiled. She never liked me even as an -acquaintance, and she took no pains to conceal her aversion. How angry -she used to make me sometimes!--I _hated_ her so, that I longed to make -her mine, if it were only to humble her, as much as if I had loved her -with all my heart and soul. Many a time I used to grind my teeth and -mutter to myself, 'Ah! my fair enemy, I shall live to make you rue this -treatment;' and I swore a great oath that, come what might, she should -never belong to Vere Egerton. I even tried to create an interest in her -mind for Victor de Rohan, but the girl was as true as steel. I have -been accustomed to read characters all my life, women's as well as -men's, it is part of my profession;" and Ropsley laughed once more his -bitter laugh; "and many a trifling incident showed me that Constance -Beverley cared for nobody on earth but you. This only made me more -determined not to be beat; and little by little, with hints here and -whispers there, assisted by your own strange, solitary habits, and the -history of your poor father's life and death, I persuaded Sir Harry that -there was madness in your family, and that you had inherited the curse. -From the day on which he became convinced of this, I felt I had won my -race. No power on earth would then have induced him to let you marry -his daughter, and the excuse that he made you on that memorable -afternoon, when you had so gallantly rescued her from death, was but a -gentlemanlike way of getting out of his difficulty about telling you the -real truth. Vere, that girl's courage is wonderful. She came down to -dinner that night with the air of an empress, but with a face like -marble, and a dull, stony look in her eyes that made even me almost rue -what I had done. She kept her room for a fortnight afterwards, and I -cannot help feeling she has never looked as bright since. - -"When you went away I acknowledge I thought the field was my own. In -consideration of my almost ruining myself to preserve him from shame, -Sir Harry promised me his daughter if I could win her consent, and you -may depend upon it I tried hard to do so. It was all in vain; the girl -hated me more and more, and when we all met so unexpectedly in Vienna, I -saw that my chance of Beverley Manor was indeed a hopeless one. Sir -Harry, too, was getting very infirm. Had he died before his daughter's -marriage, his bills for the money I had lent him were not worth the -stamps on which they were drawn. My only chance was her speedy union -with some one rich enough to make the necessary sacrifices, and again I -picked out Victor de Rohan as the man. We all thought then you were -engaged to his sister Valèrie." - -Ropsley blushed scarlet as he mentioned that name. - -"And it was not my part to conceal the surmise from Miss Beverley. 'She -was _so_ glad, she was _so_ thankful,' she said, 'she was _so_ happy, -for Vere's sake'; and a month afterwards she was Countess de Rohan, with -the handsomest husband and the finest place in Hungary. It was a -_mariage de convenance_, I fear, on both sides. I know now, what I -allow I did not dream of then, that Victor himself was the victim of an -unfortunate attachment at the time, and that he married the beautiful -Miss Beverley out of pique. Sir Harry died, as you know, within three -months. I have saved myself from ruin, and I have destroyed the -happiness on earth of three people that never did me the slightest harm. -Vere, I do not deserve to be forgiven, I do not deserve ever to rise -again from this couch; and yet there is _one_ for whose sake I would -fain get well--_one_ whom I _must_ see yet again before I die." - -He burst into tears as he spoke. Good heaven! this man was mortal after -all--an erring, sinful mortal, like the rest of us, with broken pride, -heartfelt repentance, thrilling hopes and fears. Another bruised reed, -though he had stood so defiant and erect, confronting the whirlwind and -the thunderbolt, but shivered up, and cowering at the whisper of the -"still small voice." Poor fellow! poor Ropsley! I pitied him from my -heart, while he hid his face in his hands, and the big tears forced -themselves through his wasted fingers; freely I forgave him, and freely -I told him so. - -After a time he became more composed, and then, as if ashamed of his -weakness, assumed once more the cold satirical manner, half sarcasm, -half pleasantry, which has become the conventional disguise of the world -in which such men as Ropsley delight to live. Little by little he -confided to me the rise and progress of his attachment to Valèrie--at -which I had already partly guessed--acknowledged how, for a long time, -he had imagined that I was again a favoured rival, destined ever to -stand in his way; how my sudden departure from Vienna and her -incomprehensible indifference to that hasty retreat had led him to -believe that she had entertained nothing but a girl's passing -inclination for her brother's comrade; and how, before he reached his -regiment in the Crimea, she had promised to be his on the conclusion of -the war. "I never cared for any other woman on earth," said Ropsley, -once more relapsing into the broken accents of real, deep feeling. "I -never reflected till I knew her, what a life mine has been. God forgive -me, Vere; if we had met earlier, I should have been a different man. I -have received a letter from her to-day. I shall be well enough to move -by the end of the week. Vere, I _must_ go through Hungary, and stop at -Edeldorf on my way to England!" - -As I walked out to inhale the evening breeze and indulge my own thoughts -in solitude by the margin of the peaceful Bosphorus, I felt almost -stunned, like a man who has sustained a severe fall, or one who wakes -suddenly from an astounding dream. And yet I might have guessed long -ago at the purport of Ropsley's late revelations. Diffident as I was of -my own merits, there had been times when my heart told me, with a voice -there was no disputing, that I was beloved by Constance Beverley; and -now it was with something like a feeling of relief and exhilaration that -I recalled the assurance of that fact from one himself so interested and -so difficult to deceive as Ropsley. "And she loved me all along," I -thought, with a thrill of pleasure, sadly dashed with pain. "She was -true and pure, as I always thought her; and even now, though she is -wedded to another, though she never can be mine on earth, perhaps--" -And here I stopped, for the cold, sickening impossibility chilled me to -the marrow, and an insurmountable barrier seemed to rise up around me -and hem me in on every side. It was sin to love her, it was sin to -think of her now. Oh! misery! misery! and yet I would give my life to -see her once more! So my good angel whispered in my ear, "You must -never look on her again; for the rest of your time you must tread the -weary path alone, and learn to be kindly, and pure, and holy for _her_ -sake." And self muttered, "Where would be the harm of seeing her just -once again?--of satisfying yourself with your own eyes that she is -happy?--of learning at once to be indifferent to her presence? You -_must_ go home. Edeldorf lies in your direct road to England; you -cannot abandon Ropsley in his present state, with no one to nurse and -take care of him. Victor is your oldest friend, he would be hurt if you -did not pay him a visit. It would be more courageous to face the -Countess at once, and get it over." And I listened now to one and now -to the other, and the struggle raged and tore within me the while I -paced sadly up and down "by the side of the sounding sea." - -"Egerton! how goes it? Let me present to you my friends," exclaimed a -voice I recognised on the instant, as, with lowered head and dreamy -vision, I walked right into the centre of a particularly smart party, -and was "brought up," as the sailors say, "all standing," by a white -silk parasol and a mass of flounces that almost took my breath away. -When you most require solitude, it generally happens that you find -yourself forced into society, and with all my regard for our _ci-devant_ -usher, I never met Manners, now a jolly Colonel of Bashi-Bazouks, with -so little gratification as at this moment. I am bound to admit, -however, that on his side all was cordiality and delight. Dressed out -to the utmost magnificence of his gorgeous uniform, spurs clanking, and -sabretasche jingling, his person stouter, his beard more exuberant, his -face more florid and prosperous than ever, surrounded, too, by a bevy of -ladies of French extraction and Pera manners, the "soldier of fortune," -for such he might fairly be called, was indeed in his glory. With many -flourishes and compliments in bad French, I was presented successively -to Mesdemoiselles Philippine, and Josephine, and Seraphine, all -dark-eyed, black-haired, sallow-faced, but by no means bad-looking, -young ladies, all apparently bent upon the capture and destruction of -anything and everything that came within range of their artillery, and -all apparently belonging equally to my warlike and fortunate friend. He -then took me by the arm, and dropping behind the three graces aforesaid, -informed me, in tones of repressed exultation, how his fortune was made -at last, how he now commanded (the dearest object of his ambition) a -regiment of actual cavalry, and how he was on the eve of marriage with -one of the young ladies in front of us, with a dowry of a hundred -thousand francs, who loved him to distraction, and was willing to -accompany him to Shumla, there to take the lead in society, and help him -to civilise his regiment of Bashi-Bazouks. - -"I always told you I was fit for something, Egerton," said -Lieutenant-Colonel Manners, with a glow of exultation on his simple -face; "and I have made my own way at last, in despite of all obstacles. -It's pluck, sir, that makes the man! pluck and _muscle_," doubling his -arm as he spoke, in the old Everdon manner. "I have done it at last, -and you'll see, my dear Egerton, I shall live to be a general." - -"I hope from my heart you may," was my reply, as I bade him "farewell," -and congratulated him on his position, his good fortune, and his bride; -though I never made out exactly whether it was Mademoiselle Josephine, -or Philippine, or Seraphine who was to enjoy the unspeakable felicity of -becoming Mrs. Colonel Manners. - - - - - CHAPTER XLIII - - "THE SKELETON" - - -It is one of the conventional grievances of the world to mourn ever the -mutability of human affairs, the ever-recurring changes incidental to -that short span of existence here which we are pleased to term Life, as -if the scenes and characters with which we are familiar were always -being mingled and shifted with the rapidity and confusion of a -pantomime. It has often struck me that the circumstances which encircle -us do _not_ by any means change with such extraordinary rapidity and -facility--that, like a French road, with its mile after mile of level -fertility and unvarying poplars, our path is sometimes for years -together undiversified by any great variety of incident, any glimpse of -romance; and that the same people, the same habits, the same pleasures, -and the same annoyances seem destined to surround and hem us in from the -cradle to the grave. Which is the most numerous class, those who fear -their lot _may_ change, or those who hope it _will_? Can we make this -change for ourselves? Are we the slaves of circumstances, or is not that -the opportunity of the strong which is the destiny of the weak? Surely -it must be so--surely the stout heart that struggles on must win at -last--surely man is a free agent; and he who fails, fails not because -his task is impossible, but that he himself is faint and weak and -infatuated enough to hope that he alone will be an exception to the -common lot, and achieve the prize without the labour, _Sine pulvere -palma_. - -The old castle at Edeldorf, at least, is but little changed from what I -recollect it in my quiet boyhood, when with my dear father I first -entered its lofty halls and made acquaintance with the beautiful -blue-eyed child that now sits at the end of that table, a grown-up, -handsome man. Yes, once more I am at Edeldorf. Despite all my scruples, -despite all the struggles between my worse and better self, I could not -resist the temptation of seeing her in her stately home; of satisfying -myself with my own eyes that she was happy, and of bidding her a long -and last farewell. Oh! I thirsted to see her just once again, only to -see her, and then to go away and meet her never, never more. Therefore -Ropsley and I journeyed through Bulgaria and up the Danube, and arrived -late at Edeldorf, and were cordially welcomed by Victor, and dressed, -and came down to dinner, and so I saw her. - -She was altered, too; so much altered, and yet it was the well-known -face, _her_ face still; but there were lines on the white forehead I -remembered once so smooth and fair, and the eyes were sunk and the cheek -pale and fallen; when she smiled, too, the beautiful lips parted as -sweetly as their wont, but the nether one quivered as though it were -more used to weeping than laughing, and the smile vanished quickly, and -left a deeper shadow as it faded. She was not happy. I was _sure_ she -was not happy, and shall I confess it? the certainty was not to me a -feeling of unmixed pain. I would have given every drop of blood in my -body to make her so, and yet I could not grieve as I felt I ought to -grieve, that it was otherwise. - -Perhaps one of the greatest trials imposed on us by the artificial state -of society in which we live, is the mask of iron that it forces us to -wear for the concealment of all the deeper and stronger feelings of our -nature. There we sit in that magnificent hall, hung around with horn of -stag and tusk of boar, and all the trophies of the chase, waited on by -Hungarian retainers in their gorgeous hussar uniforms, before a table -heaped to profusion with the good things that minister to the -gratification of the palate, and conversing upon those light and -frivolous topics beyond which it is treason to venture, while the hearts -probably of every one of us are far, far distant in some region of pain -unknown and unguessed by all save the secret sufferers, who hide away -their hoarded sorrows under an exterior of flippant levity, and affect -to ignore their neighbour's wounds as completely as they veil their own. -What care Ropsley or Valèrie whether _perdrix aux champignons_ is or is -not a better thing than _dindon aux truffes_? They are dying to be alone -with each other once more--she, all anxiety to hear of his campaign and -his illness; he, restless and preoccupied till he can tell her of his -plans and prospects, and the arrangements that must be concluded before -he can make her his own. Both, for want of a better grievance, somewhat -disgusted that the order of precedence in going to dinner has placed -them opposite each other, instead of side by side. And yet Valèrie, who -sits by me, seems well pleased to meet her old friend once more; if I -had ever thought she really cared for me, I should be undeceived now, -when I mark the joyous frankness of her manner, the happy blush that -comes and goes upon her cheek, and the restless glances that ever and -anon she casts at her lover's handsome face through the epergne of -flowers and fruit that divides them. No, they think as little of the -ball of conversation which we jugglers toss about to each other, and -jingle and play with and despise, as does the pale stately Countess -herself, with her dark eyes and her dreamy look apparently gazing far -into another world. She is not watching Victor, she seems scarcely -aware of his presence: and yet many a young wife as beautiful, as -high-spirited, and as lately married, would sit uneasily at the top of -her own table, would frown, and fret, and chafe to see her handsome -husband so preoccupied by another as is the Count by the fair guest on -his right hand--who but wicked Princess Vocqsal? - -That lady has, according to custom, surrounded herself by a system of -fortification wherewith, as it were, she seems metaphorically to set the -world at defiance: a challenge which, to do her justice, the Princess is -ever ready to offer, the antagonist not always willing to accept. She -delights in being the object of small attentions, so she invariably -requires a footstool, an extra cushion or two, and a flask of eau de -Cologne, in addition to her bouquet, her fan, her gloves, her -pocket-handkerchief, and such necessary articles of female superfluity. -With these outworks and fences within which to retire on the failure of -an attack, it is easy to carry out a system of aggressive warfare; and -whether it is the presence of his wife that makes the amusement -particularly exciting, or whether Count de Rohan has made himself to-day -peculiarly agreeable, or whether it is possible, though this contingency -is extremely unlikely, that the Prince has _told her not_, certainly -Madame la Princesse is taking unusual pains, and that most -unnecessarily, to bring Victor into more than common subjection to her -fascinations. - -She is without contradiction the best-dressed woman in the room; her -light gossamer robe, fold upon fold, and flounce upon flounce, floats -around her like a drapery of clouds; her gloves fit her to a miracle; -her exquisitely-shaped hands and round white arms bear few ornaments, -but these are of the rarest and costliest description; her blooming, -fresh complexion accords well with those luxuriant masses of soft brown -hair escaping here and there from its smooth shining folds in large -glossy curls. Her rich red lips are parted with a malicious smile, half -playful, half coquettish, that is inexpressibly provoking and -attractive; while, although the question as to whether she does really -rouge or not is still undecided, her blue eyes seem positively to dance -and sparkle in the candle-light. Her voice is low, and soft, and -silvery; all she says racy, humorous, full of meaning, and to the point. -Poor Victor de Rohan! - -He, too, is at first in unusually high spirits; his courteous, well-bred -manner is livelier than his wont, but the deferential air with which he -responds to his neighbour's gay remarks is dashed by a shade of sarcasm, -and I, who know him so well, can detect a tone of bitter irony in his -voice, can trace some acute inward pang that ever and anon convulses for -a moment his frank, handsome features. I am sure he is ill at ease, and -dissatisfied with himself. I observe, too, that, though he scarcely -touches the contents of his plate, his glass is filled again and again -to the brim, and he quaffs off his wine with the eager feverish thirst -of one who seeks to drown reflection and remorse in the Lethean draught. -Worst sign of all, and one which never fails to denote mental suffering, -his spirits fall in proportion to his potations, and that which in a -well-balanced nature "makes glad the heart of man," seems but to clog -the wings of Victor's fancy, and to sink him deeper and deeper in -despondency. Ere long he becomes pale, silent, almost morose, and the -charming Princess has all the conversation to herself. - -But one individual in the party attends thoroughly to the business in -hand. Without doubt, for the time being he has the best of it. Prince -Vocqsal possesses an excellent appetite, a digestion, as he says -himself, that, like his conscience, can carry a great weight and be all -the better for it; a faultless judgment in wine, and a tendency to enjoy -the pleasures of the table, enhanced, if possible, by the occasional fit -of gout with which this indulgence must unfortunately be purchased. -Fancy-free is the Prince, and troubled neither by memories of the past, -misgivings for the present, nor anxieties for the future. Many such -passive natures there are--we see them every day. Men who are content -to take the world as it is, and, like the ox in his pasture, browse, and -bask, and ruminate, and never wish to overleap the boundary that forbids -them to wander in the flowery meadow beyond. And yet it may be that -these too have once bathed in the forbidden stream, the lava-stream that -scorches and sears where it touches; it may be that the heart we deem so -hard, so callous, has been welded in the fire, and beaten on the anvil, -till it has assumed the consistency of steel. It winced and quivered -once, perhaps nearly broke, and now it can bid defiance even to the -memory of pain. Who knows? who can tell his neighbour's history, or -guess his neighbour's thoughts? who can read the truth, even in the -depth of those eyes that look the fondest into his own? Well! there is -One that knows all secrets, and He will judge, but not as man judges. - -So Prince Vocqsal thinks not of the days that are past, the hearts he -has broken, the friends he has lost, the duels he has fought, the money -he has squandered, the chances he has thrown away; or, if he does allow -his mind to dwell for an instant on such trifles, it is with a sort of -dreamy satisfaction at the quantity of enjoyment he has squeezed out of -life, tinged with a vague regret that so much of it is over. Why, it -was but to-day that, as he dressed for dinner, he apostrophised the -grimacing image in his looking-glass,--"Courage, _mon gaillard_," -muttered the Prince, certainly not to his valet, who was tightening his -waistbelt, "courage! you are worth a good many of the young ones, still, -and your appetite is as good as it was at sixteen." - -He is splendid now, though somewhat apoplectic. His wig curls over his -magnificent head in hyacinthine luxuriance, his dyed whiskers and -moustache blush purple in the candlelight; his neckcloth is tied -somewhat too tight, and seems to have forced more than a wholesome -quantity of blood into his face and eyes, but its whiteness is dazzling, -and the diamond studs beneath it are of extraordinary brilliance; nor -does his waistbelt, though it defies repletion, modify in any great -degree the goodly outline of the corpulent person it enfolds. -Altogether he is a very jolly-looking old gentleman, and the only one of -the party that seems for the nonce to be "the right man in the right -place." - -Constance listens to him with a weary, abstracted air; perhaps she has -heard that story about the bear and the waterfall once or twice before, -perhaps she does not hear it now, but she bends her head courteously -towards him, and looks kindly at him from out of her deep, sad eyes. - -"Champagne, if you please," says the Prince, interrupting the thread of -his narrative, by holding up his glass to be replenished; "and so, -Madame, the bear and I were _vis-à-vis_ at about ten paces apart, and my -rifle was empty. The last shot had taken effect through his lungs, and -he coughed and held his paw to the pit of his stomach, so like a -Christian with a cold, that, even in my very precarious position, I -could not help laughing outright. Ten paces is a short distance, -Madame, a very short distance, when your antagonist feels himself -thoroughly aggrieved, and advances upon you with a red, lurid eye, and a -short angry growl. I turned and looked behind me for a run--I was -always a good runner," remarks the Prince, with a downward glance of -satisfaction, the absurdity of which, I am pained to see, does not even -call a smile to his listener's pale face--"but it was no question of -running here, for the waterfall was leaping and foaming forty feet deep -below, and the trees were so thick on either side, that escape by a -flank movement was impossible. It was the very spot, Victor, where I -killed the woodcocks right and left the morning you disappointed me so -shamefully, and left me to have all the sport to myself."--Victor bows -courteously, drinks her husband's health, and glances at the Princess -with a bitter smile.--"The very spot where I hope you will place me -to-morrow at your grand _chasse_. Peste! 'tis strange how passionately -fond I still am of the chase. Well, Madame, indecision is not usually -my weakness, but before I could make up my mind what to do, the bear was -upon me. In an instant he embraced me with his huge hairy arms, and I -felt his hot breath against my very face. My rifle was broken short off -by the stock, and I heard my watch crack in my waistcoat pocket. I -thought it was my ribs. I have seen your wrestlers in England, Madame, -and I have once assisted in your country at an exhibition of '_The Box_' -but such an encounter as I now had to sustain was more terrible than -anything I ever witnessed fought out fairly between man and man. -Fortunately a ball through the back part of the head, and another -through the lungs, had somewhat diminished the natural force of my -adversary, or I must have succumbed; and by a great exertion of strength -on my part, I managed to liberate one hand and make a grasp for my -hunting-knife. Horror! it had fallen from the sheath, but by the mercy -of Heaven and the blessing of St. Hubert, it had caught in my boot, and -I never felt before how dear life was as when I touched the buckhorn -handle of my last friend; three, four times in succession I buried the -long keen blade in the bear's side; at each thrust he gave a quick, -convulsive sob, but he strained me tighter and tighter to his body, till -I thought my very blood-vessels would burst with the fearful pressure. -At last we fell, and rolled over and over towards the waterfall. In the -hasty glance I had previously cast behind me, I had remarked a dead -fir-tree that stood within a yard or so of the precipice; I remember the -thought had darted through my mind, that if I could reach it I might be -safe, and the reflection as instantaneously followed, that a bear was a -better climber than a Hungarian. Never shall I forget my sensations -when, in our last revolution, I caught a glimpse of that naked tree. I -shut my eyes then, for I knew it was all over, but I gave him one more -stab, and a hearty one, with my hunting-knife. Splash! we reached the -water together, and went down like a couple of stones, down, down to the -very bottom, but fortunately it was the deepest part of the pool, and we -unclosed our embrace the instant we touched the surface--the bear, I -believe, was dead before he got there, and I thought myself fortunate in -being able to swim ashore, whilst the brown body of my late antagonist -went tumbling and whirling down the foaming torrent below. I recovered -his skin, Madame, to make a cover for my arm-chair, but I have never -been fond of water since. Give me a glass of Tokay, if you please." - -"And did you sustain no further harm from your encounter?" asked -Constance, rousing herself from her abstraction with an effort, and -bending politely towards the Prince, who was drinking his Tokay with -immense satisfaction. - -"Only the marks of his claws on my shoulder," replied he, smacking his -lips after his draught. "I have got them there to this day. Is it not -so, Rose?" he added, appealing to his wife with a hearty laugh. - -She turned her head away without condescending to notice him. Victor -bit his lip with a gesture of impatience, and the Countess, rising -slowly and gracefully, gave her hand to the Prince to lead her back to -the drawing-room, whither we all followed in the same order as that in -which we had proceeded to dinner. - -"Do you not feel like a wounded man once more?" observed Valèrie, gaily, -to me, as I stood, coffee-cup in hand, with my back to the fireplace, -like a true Englishman. "Is it not all exactly as you left it? the -easiest arm-chair and my eternal embroidery-frame, and your own sofa -where you used to lie so wonderfully patient, and look out of window at -the sunset. Constance has established herself there now, and considers -it her peculiar property. Oh, Vere (I shall always call you Vere), is -she not charming? I am so fond of her!" - -Slow torture! but never mind, it is but for to-night--this experiment -must never be repeated. Go on, Countess Valèrie, happy, unconscious -executioner. - -"You English people are delightful, when one knows you well, although at -first you are so cold and undemonstrative. Now, Constance, though she -is so quiet and melancholy-looking, though she never laughs, and rarely -smiles, has the energy and the activity of a dozen women when it is a -question of doing good. You have no idea of what she is here amongst -our own people. They worship the very ground she walks on--they call -her 'the good angel of Edeldorf.' But she over-exerts herself; she is -not strong: she looks ill, very ill. Vere, do you not think so?" - -For the first time since we entered the drawing-room I glanced in the -direction of the Countess de Rohan, but her face was turned from me; she -was still occupied with Prince Vocqsal, who, old enough to appreciate -the value of a good listener, was devoting himself entirely to her -amusement. No, I could not see the pale, well-known face, but the light -streamed off her jet-black hair, and memory probed me to the quick as -its shining masses recalled the wet, heavy locks of one whose life I -saved in Beverley Mere. - -"Come and play the march in 'The Honijàdy,'" said Ropsley, leading his -_fiancée_ gaily off to the pianoforte. "_On revient toujours à ses -premiers amours_, but I really cannot allow you to flirt with Egerton -any more," he added, with a smile of such thorough confidence and -affection in his promised bride as altered the whole expression of his -countenance, and lit it up with a beauty I had never before imagined it -to possess. - -"Not _that_," she answered, looking anxiously round, "but 'Cheer, boys! -cheer!' as often as you like, now we have got you back again." And they -walked away together, a happy, handsome pair as one should wish to see. - -I could not have borne it much longer. I gasped for solitude as a man -half-stifled gasps for air. With an affectation of leisurely -indifference, I strolled into the adjoining billiard-room. I passed -close to the Countess, but she never turned her head, so engrossed was -she with the conversation of Prince Vocqsal. I walked on through the -spacious conservatory. I even stopped to examine an exotic as I passed. -At length I reached a balcony in which that structure terminated, and -sinking into a chair that stood in one corner, out of sight and -interruption, I leaned my forehead against the cold iron railing, and -prayed for fortitude and resignation to my lot. - -The fresh night air cooled and composed me. A bright moonlight -flickered and glistened over the park. The tones of Valèrie's -pianoforte, softened by distance, stole sadly, yet soothingly, on my -ear. The autumn breeze, hushed to a whisper, seemed to breathe of peace -and consolation. I felt that the strength I had asked would be given; -that though the fight was not yet over, it would be won at last; that -although, alas! the sacrifice was still to be offered, I should have -power to make it, and the higher the cost, the holier, the more -acceptable it would be. More than once the Devil's sophistry prompted -me to repine; more than once I groaned aloud to think that _she_, too, -was sacrificed unworthily, that her happiness, like my own, was lost -beyond recall. "Oh," I thought, in the bitterness of my agony, "I could -have given her up to one that _loved_ her, I could have rejoiced in her -welfare, and forgotten _myself_ in the certainty of her happiness. I -could have blessed him thankfully for his care and tenderness towards -that transplanted flower, and lived on contented, if not happy, to think -that I had not offered up my own broken heart in vain; but to see her -neglected and pining--her dignity insulted--her rights trampled -on--another, immeasurably her inferior, filling the place in her -husband's affections to which she had an undoubted right! Victor! -Victor! you were my earliest friend, and yet I can almost _curse_ you -from my soul!" - -But soon my better nature triumphed; I saw the path of duty plain before -me, I determined to follow it, and struggle on, at whatever cost. I had -lived for her all my life. I would live for her still. Perhaps when I -became an old grey man she would know it; perhaps--never in this -life--perhaps she might bless me for it in another; but it should be -done! Could I but make a certainty of Victor's _liaison_ with the -Princess, could I but obtain _a right_ to speak to him on the subject! -I would make him one last appeal that should _force_ him back to his -duty. I would, if necessary, tell him the whole truth, and shame him by -my own sacrifice into the right path. I felt a giant's strength and a -martyr's constancy; once more I leaned my head upon the cold iron rail, -and the opportunity that I asked for seemed to come when I least -expected it. - -In such a mood as I then was, a man takes no note of time; I could not -tell how long I had been sitting there in the solemn peaceful night, it -might have been minutes, it might have been hours, but at length the -click of billiard-balls, which had been hitherto audible in the -adjoining apartment, ceased altogether, a man's step and the rustle of a -lady's dress were heard in the conservatory, and when they reached -within six paces of me, Victor placed a chair for Princess Vocqsal under -the spreading branches of a brilliant azalea, and seated himself at her -side. She dropped her bracelet on the smooth tesselated floor as she -sat down; he picked it up and clasped it on her arm: as he did so I -caught a glimpse of his face: he was deadly pale, and as he raised his -eyes to hers, their wild mournful appealing glance reminded me of poor -Bold's last look when he died licking my hand. The Princess, on the -contrary, shone if possible more brilliant than ever; there was a -settled flush, as of triumph, on her cheek, and her whole countenance -bore an impress of determined, uncompromising resolution, which I had -already remarked as no uncommon expression on those lovely features. - -My first impulse was to confront them at once, and take my departure; -but I have already said I suffered from constitutional shyness to a -great degree, and I was unwilling to face even my old friend with such -traces of strong emotion as I knew must be visible on my exterior. I was -most unwilling to play the eavesdropper. I felt that, as a man of -honour, I was inexcusable in not instantly apprising them of my -presence; yet some strange, inexplicable fascination that I could not -resist, seemed to force me to remain where I was, unnoticed and -unsuspected. Ere they had spoken three words I was in possession of the -whole truth, that truth which a few minutes earlier I had been so -anxious to ascertain. I do not attempt to excuse my conduct, I am aware -that it admits of no palliation, that no one can be guilty of an act of -espial and still remain _a gentleman_; but I state the fact as it -occurred, and can only offer in extenuation the fever of morbid -excitement into which I had worked myself, and my unwavering resolution -to save Victor, in spite of his own infatuation, for her sake in whose -behalf I did not hesitate thus to sacrifice even my honour. - -"Anything but _that_, Rose, my adored Rose; anything but that," pleaded -the Count; and his voice came thick and hoarse, whilst his features -worked convulsively with the violence of his feelings. "Think of what I -have been to you, think of all my devotion, all my self-denial. You -cannot doubt me: it is impossible; you cannot mistrust me _now_; but, as -you have a woman's heart, ask me for anything but _that_." - -She was clasping and unclasping the bracelet he had placed upon her arm, -her head drooped over the jewel, but she raised her soft lustrous eyes -to his, and with a witching, maddening glance, of which he knew too well -the power, murmured-- - -"Give it me, Victor, _dear_ Victor! you have never refused me anything -since I have known you." - -"Nor would I now, were it anything that is in my power to give," he -burst out hurriedly, and in accents of almost childish impatience; "I -tell you, that for your sake I would cast everything to the -winds--fortune, friends, home, country, life itself. Drop by drop, you -should have the best blood in my body, and I would thank you and bless -you for accepting it; but this is more than all, Rose--this is my -honour. Could you bear to see me a disgraced and branded man? could you -bear to feel that I _deserved_ to have my arms reversed and my name -scouted? Could you care for me if it were so? Oh, Rose, you have never -loved me if you ask for this!" - -"Perhaps you are right," she answered coldly, "perhaps I never did. You -have often told me I am very hard-hearted--Victor," she added, after a -pause, with a sudden change of manner, and another of those soft fond -looks that made such wild work with her victim--"do you think I would -ask a man I did not care for to make such a sacrifice? Oh, Victor! you -little know a woman's heart--you have cruelly mistaken mine." - -The fond eyes filled with tears as she spoke. Victor was doomed. I -knew it from that moment. He scarcely made an effort to save himself -now. - -"And you ask for this as a last proof of my devotion. You are not -satisfied yet. It is not enough that I have given you the whole -happiness of my life, you must have that life itself as well--nay, even -that is too little," he added with bitter emphasis, "I must offer up the -unstained honour of the De Rohans in addition to all!" - -Another of those speaking, thrilling glances. Oh, the old, old story! -Samson and Delilah--Hercules and Omphale--Antony and Cleopatra, on the -ruins of an empire--or plain Jack and Gill at the fair. Man's weakness -is woman's opportunity, and so the world goes on. - -"Victor," she said, "it is for _my_ sake." - -The colour mounted in his cheek, and he rose to his feet like a man. -The old look I had missed all the evening on his face came back once -more, the old look that reminded me of shouting squadrons by the Danube, -and a dash to the front with AH Mesrour and brave Iskender Bey. His -blood was up, and his lance in rest now, stop him who can! - -"So be it," he said, calmly and distinctly, but with his teeth clenched -and his nostril dilated, like that of a thorough-bred horse after a -gallop. "So be it! and never forget, Rose, in the long dark future, -never forget that it was for your sake: and now listen to me. I betray -my own and my father's friends, I complete an act of treachery such as -is yet unknown in the annals of my country, such as her history shall -curse for its baseness till the end of time. I devote to ruin and death -a score of the noblest families, a score of the proudest heads in -Hungary. I stain my father's shield, I break my own oaths. Life, and -honour, and all, I cast away at one throw, and, Rose, it is for your -sake!" - -She was weeping now--weeping convulsively, with her face buried in her -hands; but he heeded it not, and went on-- - -"All this I am willing to do, Rose, because I love you; but mark the -consequence. As surely as I deliver you this list"--he drew a paper -from his breast as he spoke--"so surely I proclaim my treachery to the -world, so surely I give myself over to the authorities, so surely I -march up to the scaffold at the head of that devoted band who were once -my friends, and though they think it shame that their blood should soak -the same planks as mine, though they turn from me in disgust, even on -the verge of another world, so surely will I die amongst them as boldly, -as unflinchingly, as the most stainless patriot of them all!" - -"No, no," she sobbed out; "never, never; do you think I have no feeling? -do you think I have no heart? I have provided for your safety long ago. -I have got your free pardon in a written promise, your life and fortune -are secure, your share in the discovery will never be made known. -Victor, do you think I have not taken care of _you_?" - -Even then his whole countenance softened. This man, whose proud spirit -she had so often trampled on, whose kind heart she had so often wounded, -from whom she asked so much--ay, so much as his bitterest enemy would -have shrunk from taking--was ready and willing to give her all, and to -bless the very hand that smote him to the death. He spoke gently and -caressingly now. He bent over her chair, and looked down at her with -kind, sad eyes. - -"Not so," he said, "Rose, not so. I am glad you did not sacrifice me. -I like to think you would have saved me if you could; but I cannot -accept the terms. To-morrow is my birthday, Rose. It is St. Hubert's -day, and I have a grand _chasse_ here, as you know. Many of these -devoted gentlemen will be at Edeldorf to-morrow. Give us at least that -one day. In twenty-four hours from this time you can forward your -information to Vienna; after that, you and I will meet no more on earth. -Rose, dear Rose," he murmured, as he placed the paper in her hand, "it -is the _last_ present I shall give you--make the most of it." - -Why did she meddle with politics, woman as she was in her heart of -hearts? What had she to do with Monsieur Stein, and Government -intrigues, and a secret police, and all that complicated machinery which -is worked by gold alone, and in which the feelings count for nothing? -State information might go to other quarters; fortunes be made on the -Bourse by other speculators; her husband wait for his appointment till -doomsday, and the attainder remain unreversed on the estates in the -Banat as long as the Danube flowed downward from its source;--what cared -Princess Vocqsal? She looked up, smiling through her tears, like a wet -rose in the sunshine. She took the list from his hand; once, twice, she -pressed the paper to her lips, then tore it in a thousand fragments, and -scattered them abroad over the shining floor of the conservatory, to -mingle with the shed blossoms of the azalea, to be swept away with the -decayed petals of the camellias, to be whirled hither and thither by the -breeze of morning to oblivion, but to rise up between her and him who -now stood somewhat aghast by her side, never, never more! - -She put her hand almost timidly in his. "Victor," she said, in a soft, -low voice, "you have conquered. I am yours now in defiance of all. Oh, -Victor, Victor, you do indeed love me!" - -He looked startled, scared, almost as if he could not understand her; he -shook in every limb, whilst she was composed and even dignified. - -"Yes," she said, rising from her chair, "I will trifle with you no -longer now. I know what I do; I see the gulf into which I plunge. -Misery, ruin, and crime are before me; but I fear _nothing_. Victor de -Rohan! when I leave Edeldorf, I leave it with you, and with you I remain -for ever." - -They walked out of the conservatory side by side. I do not think they -exchanged another word; and I remained stunned, motionless, stupefied, -like a man who wakes from some ghastly and bewildering dream. - -The striking of the Castle clock roused me to consciousness--to a -conviction of the importance of time, and the necessity for immediate -action. It was now midnight. Early to-morrow we should all be on the -alert for the grand battue on the Waldenberg, for which preparations had -been making for several days. I should scarcely have an opportunity of -speaking in private to my friend, and the day after it might be too -late. No, to-night I must see Victor before he slept: to-night I must -warn him from the abyss into which he was about to fall, confess to him -the dishonourable act of which I had been guilty, sustain his anger and -contempt as I best might, and plead her cause whom I must never see -again. More than once--I will not deny it--a rebellious feeling rose in -my heart. Why are these things so? Why is she not mine whom I have -loved so many dark and lonely years? Why must Victor, after the proof -he has given to-night of more than human devotion, never be happy with -her for whose sake he did not hesitate to offer up all that was far -dearer to him than life? But I had long learnt the true lesson, that -"Whatever is, is right"--that Providence sees not with our eyes, nor -judges with our judgment; and that we must not presume to question, much -less dare to repine. I hurried through the billiard-room towards -Victor's apartments; I had then to traverse the drawing-room, and a -little snug retreat in which it used to be our custom to finish the -evening with a social cigar, and to which, in former days Valèrie was -sometimes to be prevailed upon to bring her work. Here I found Ropsley -and Prince Vocqsal comfortably established, apparently with no idea of -going to bed yet for hours. They had never met till to-day, but seemed -to suit each other admirably, all that was ludicrous in the Prince's -character and conversation affording a ceaseless fund of amusement to -the Guardsman; while the latter's high prowess as a sportsman, and -intimate acquaintance with the turf, rendered him an object of great -interest and admiration to the enthusiastic Hungarian. Ropsley, with -restored health and his ladye-love under the same roof with him, was in -the highest spirits, and no wonder. - -"Don't run away, Vere," said he, catching me by the arm as I passed -behind his chair; "it's quite early yet. Have a quiet weed before -turning in." Adding, in an amused whisper, "He's an immense trump, -this! That's his third cigar and his fourth tumbler of brandy-and-soda -since we came here; and he's telling me now how he once pinked a fellow -in the Bois de Boulogne for wearing revolutionary shirt buttons. In -English, too, my dear fellow; it's as good as a play." - -Even as he spoke I heard a door shut in the passage, and I hurried away, -leaving the new acquaintances delighted with each other's society. - -In the gallery I met Victor's French valet with a bundle of clothes over -his arm, humming an air from a French opera. "Could I see the Count?" -"Alas! I was a few seconds too late!" The valet "was in despair--he -was desolate--it was impossible. Monsieur had even now retired to the -apartments of Madame!" "I must do it to-morrow," thought I; "perhaps I -may find an opportunity when the _chasse_ is over." And I went to bed -with a heavy, aching heart. - - - - - CHAPTER XLIV - - THE GIPSY'S DREAM - - -It is a calm, clear night; a narrow crescent moon, low down on the -horizon, scarcely dims the radiance of those myriads of stars which gem -the entire sky. It is such a night as would have been chosen by the -Chaldean to read his destiny on the glittering page above his head--such -a night as compels us perforce to think of other matters than what we -shall eat and what we shall drink--as brings startlingly to our minds -the unsolved question, Which is Reality--the Material of to-day or the -Ideal of to-morrow? Not a cloud obscures the diamond-sprinkled vault -above; not a tree, not an undulation, varies the level plain extending -far and wide below. Dim and indistinct, its monotonous surface presents -a vague idea of boundless space, the vastness of which is enhanced by -the silence that reigns around. Not a breath of air is stirring, not a -sound is heard save the lazy plash and ripple of the Danube, as it -steals away under its low swampy banks, sluggish and unseen. Yet there -is life breathing in the midst of this apparent solitude: human hearts -beating, with all their hopes and fears, and joys and sorrows, in this -isolated spot. Even here beauty pillows her head on the broad chest of -strength; infancy nestles to the refuge of a mother's bosom; weary -labour lies prone and helpless, with relaxed muscles and limp, powerless -limbs; youth dreams of love, and age of youth; and sleep spreads her -welcome mantle over the hardy tribe who have chosen this wild waste of -Hungary for their lair. - -It is long past midnight; their fires have been out for hours; their -tents are low and dusky, in colour almost like the plain on which they -are pitched; you might ride within twenty yards of it, and never know -you were near a gipsy's encampment, for the Zingynie loves to be -unobserved and secret in his movements; to wander here and there, with -no man's leave and no man's knowledge; to come and go unmarked and -untrammelled as the wind that lifts the elf-locks from his brow. So he -sleeps equally well under the coarse canvas of a tent or the roof of a -clear cold sky; he pays no rent, he owns no master, and he believes -that, of all the inhabitants of earth, he alone is free. - -And now a figure rises from amongst the low dusky tents, and comes out -into the light of the clear starry sky, and looks steadfastly towards -the east as if watching for the dawn, and turns a fevered cheek to the -soft night air, as yet not fresh and cold enough to promise the approach -of day. It is the figure of a woman past the prime of life, nay, -verging upon age, but who retains all the majesty and some remains of -the beauty which distinguished her in bygone days; who even now owns -none of the decay of strength or infirmity of gait which usually -accompanies the advance of years, but who looks, as she always did, born -to command, and not yet incapable of enforcing obedience to her behests. -It is none other than the Zingynie queen who prophesied the future of -Victor de Rohan when he was a laughing golden-haired child; whose mind -is anxious and ill at ease for the sake of her darling now, and who -draws her hood further over her head, binds her crimson handkerchief -tighter on her brows, and looks once more with anxious glance towards -the sky, as she mutters-- - -"Three hours to dawn, and then six more till noon; and once, girl, thou -wast light-footed and untiring as the deer. Girl!" and she laughs a -short, bitter laugh. "Well, no matter--girl, or woman, or aged crone, -the heart is always the same; and I will save him--save him, for the -sake of the strong arm and the fair, frank face that have been -mouldering for years in the grave!" - -She is wandering back into the past now. Vivid and real as though it -had happened but yesterday, she recalls a scene that took place many a -long year ago in the streets of Pesth. She was a young, light-hearted -maiden then: the acknowledged beauty of her tribe, the swiftest runner, -the most invincible pedestrian to be found of either sex in the bounds -of Hungary. Not a little proud was she of both advantages, and it was -hard to say on which she plumed herself the most. In those days, as in -many others of its unhappy history, that country was seething with -internal faction and discontent; and the Zingynies, from their wandering -habits, powers of endurance, and immunity from suspicion, were -constantly chosen as the bearers of important despatches and the means -of communication between distant conspirators, whilst they were -themselves kept in utter ignorance of the valuable secrets with which -they were entrusted. - -The gipsy maiden had come up to Pesth on an errand of this nature all -the way from the Banat. Many a flat and weary mile it is; yet though -she had rested but seldom and partaken sparingly of food, the girl's eye -was as bright, her step as elastic, and her beauty as dazzling as when -she first started on her journey. In such a town as the capital of -Hungary she could not fail to attract attention and remark. Ere long, -while she herself was feasting her curiosity with innocent delight on -the splendours of the shop windows and the many wonders of a city so -interesting to this denizen of the wilderness, she found herself the -centre of a gazing and somewhat turbulent crowd, whose murmurs of -approbation at her beauty were not unmixed with jeers and even threats -of a more formidable description. Swabes were they mostly, and -Croatians, who formed this disorderly mob; for your true Hungarian, of -whatever rank, is far too much of a gentleman to mix himself up with a -street riot or vulgar brawl, save upon the greatest provocation. There -had been discontent brewing for days amongst the lowest classes; the -price of bread had gone up, and there was a strong feeling abroad -against the landholders, and what we should term in England the -agricultural interest generally. - -The mob soon recognised in the Zingynie maiden one of the messengers of -their enemies. From taunts and foul abuse they proceeded to overt acts -of insolence; and the handsome high-spirited girl found herself at bay, -surrounded by savage faces, and rude, insulting tongues. Soon they began -to hustle and maltreat her, with cries of "Down with the gipsy!"--"Down -with the go-between of our tyrants!"--"To the stake with the -fortune-teller!"--"To the Danube with the witch!" Imprudently she drew -her long knife and flashed it in the faces of the foremost; for an -instant the curs gave back, but it was soon struck from her hand, and -any immunity that her youth and beauty might have won from her -oppressors was, by this ill-judged action, turned to more determined -violence and aggression. Already they had pinioned her arms, and were -dragging her towards the river--already she had given herself up for -lost, when a lane was seen opening in the crowd, and a tall powerful man -came striding to her rescue, and, as he elbowed and jostled his way -through her tormentors, asked authoritatively, "What was the matter, and -how they could dare thus to maltreat a young and beautiful girl?" - -"She is a witch!" replied one ruffian who had hold of her by the wrist, -"and we are going to put her in the Danube. _You_ are an aristocrat, -and you shall keep her company!" - -"Shall I?" replied the stranger, and in another instant the insolent -Swabe, spitting out a mouthful of blood and a couple of front teeth, -measured his length upon the pavement. The crowd began to retire, but -they were fierce and excited, and their numbers gave them confidence. A -comrade of the fallen ruffian advanced upon the champion with bared -knife and scowling brow. Another of those straight left-handers, -delivered flush from the shoulder, and he lay prostrate by his friend. -The stranger had evidently received his fighting education in England, -and the instructions of science had not been thrown away on that -magnificent frame and those heavy muscular limbs. It was indeed no other -than the last Count de Rohan, Victor's father, the associate of the -Prince of Wales, the friend of Philip Egerton and Sir Harry Beverley: -lastly, what was more to the purpose at the present juncture, the pupil -of the famous Jackson. Ere long the intimidated mob ceased to -interfere, and the nobleman, conducting the frightened gipsy girl with -as much deference as though she had been his equal in rank and station, -never left her till he had placed her in his own carriage, and forwarded -her, with three or four stout hussars as her escort, half-way back on -her homeward journey. There is a little bit of romance safe locked up -and hidden away somewhere in a corner of every woman's heart. What was -the great Count de Rohan to the vagabond Zingynie maiden but a "bright -particular star," from which she must always remain at a hopeless and -immeasurable distance? Yet even now, though her hair is grey and her -brow is wrinkled--though she has loved and suffered, and borne children -and buried them, and wept and laughed, and hoped and feared, and gone -the round of earthly joys and earthly sorrows--the colour mounts to her -withered cheek, and the blood gathers warmer round her heart, when she -thinks of that frank, handsome face, with its noble features and its -fearless eyes, and the kindly smile with which it bade her farewell. -Therefore has she always felt a thrilling interest in all that -appertains to the Count de Rohan; therefore has she mourned him with -many a secret tear and many a hidden pang; therefore has she loved and -cherished and watched over his child as though he had been her own, -exhausting all her skill and all her superstition to prognosticate for -him a happy future--to ward off from him the evil that she reads too -surely in the stars will be his lot. - -Once she has warned him--twice she has warned him--will the third time -be too late? She shudders to think how she has neglected him. -To-morrow--nay, to-day (for it is long past midnight), is the -anniversary of his birth, the festival of St. Hubert, and she would have -passed it over unnoticed, would have forgotten it, but for last night's -dream. The coming morning strikes chill to her very marrow as she -thinks what a strange, wild, eerie dream it was. - -She dreamed that she was sitting by the Danube; far, far away down -yonder, where its broad yellow flood, washing the flat, fertile shores -of Moldavia, sweeps onward to the Black Sea, calm, strong, and not to be -stemmed by mortal hand, like the stream of Time--like the course of -destiny. - -Strange voices whispered in her ears, mingled with the plash and ripple -of the mighty river; voices that she could not recognise, yet of which -she felt an uncomfortable consciousness that she had heard them before. -It was early morning, the raw mist curled over the waters, and her -hair--how was this?--once more black and glossy as the raven's wing, was -dank and dripping with dew. There was a babe, too, in her lap, and she -folded the child tighter to her bosom for warmth and comfort. It -nestled and smiled up in her face, though it was none of hers; no gipsy -blood could be traced in those blue eyes and golden locks; it was De -Rohan's heir: how came it here? She asked the question aloud, and the -voices answered all at once and confusedly, with an indistinct and -rushing sound. Then they were silent, and the river plashed on. - -She felt very lonely, and sang to the child for company a merry gipsy -song. And the babe laughed and crowed, and leapt in her arms with -delight, and glided from her hands; and the waters closed over its -golden head, and it was gone. Then the voices moaned and shrieked, -still far away, dim and indistinct; and the river plashed sullenly on. - -But the child rose from the waves, and looked back and smiled, and shook -the drops from its golden hair, and struck out fearlessly down the -stream. It had changed, too, and the blue eyes and the clustering curls -belonged to a strong, well-grown young man. Still she watched the form -eagerly as it swam, for something reminded her of one she used to think -the type of manhood years and years ago. The voices warned her now to -rise and hasten, but the river plashed on sullenly as before. - -She must run to yonder point, marked as it is by a white wooden cross. -Far beyond it the stream whirls and seethes in a deep eddying pool, and -she must guide the swimmer to the cross, and help him to land there, or -he will be lost--De Rohan's child will be drowned in her sight. How -does she know it is called St. Hubert's Cross? Did the voices tell her? -They are whispering still, but fainter and farther off. And the river -plashes on sullenly, but with a murmur of fierce impatience now. - -She waves frantically to the swimmer, and would fain shout to him aloud, -but she cannot speak; her shawl is wound so tight round her bosom that -it stops her voice, and her fingers struggle in vain amongst the knots. -Why will he not turn his head towards her?--why does he dash so eagerly -on? proud of his strength, proud of his mastery over the flood--his -father's own son. Ah! he hears it too. Far away, past the cross and -the whirlpool, down yonder on that sunny patch of sand, sits a mermaid, -combing her long bright locks with a golden comb. She sings a sweet, -wild, unearthly melody--it would woo a saint to perdition! Hark! how it -mingles with the rushing voices and the plash of the angry river! - -The sand is deep and quick along the water's edge; she sinks in it up to -the ankles, weights seem to clog her limbs, and hands she cannot see to -hold her back; breathless she struggles on to reach the cross, for there -is a bend in the river there, and he will surely see her, and turn from -the song of the mermaid, and she will drag him ashore and rescue him -from his fate. The voices are close in her ears now, and the river -plashing at her very feet. - -So she reaches the cross at last, and with frantic gestures--for she is -still speechless--waves him to the shore. But the mermaid beckons him -wildly on, and the stream, seizing him like a prey, whirls him downwards -eddying past the cross, and it is too late now. See! he turns his head -at last, but to show the pale, rigid features of a corpse. - -The voices come rushing like a hurricane in her ears; the plash of the -river rises to a mighty roar. Wildly the mermaid tosses her white arms -above her head, and laughs, and shrieks, and laughs again, in ghastly -triumph. The dreamer has found her voice now, and in a frenzy of despair -and horror she screams aloud. - -With that scream she awoke, and left her tent for the cool night air, -and counted the hours till noon; and so, with no more preparation, she -betook herself to her journey, goaded with the thought that there might -be time even yet. - -It is sunrise now; a thousand gladsome tokens of life and happiness wake -with the morning light. The dew sparkles on herb and autumn flower; the -lark rises into the bright, pure heaven; herds of oxen file slowly -across the plain. Hope is ever strong in the morning; and the gipsy's -step is more elastic, her brow grows clearer and her eye brighter, as -she calculates the distance she has already traversed, and the miles -that yet lie between her and the woods and towers of Edeldorf. A third -of the journey is already accomplished; in another hour the summit of -the Waldenberg ought to be visible, peering above the plain. She has -often trod the same path before, but never in such haste as now. - -A tall Hungarian peasant meets her, and recognising her at once for a -gipsy, doffs his hat, and bids her "Good-morrow, mother!" and craves a -blessing from the Zingynie, for though he has no silver, he has a paper -florin or two in his pocket, and he would fain have his fortune told, -and so while away an hour of his long, solitary day only just begun. -With flashing eyes and impatient gestures she bans him as she passes, -for she cannot brook even an instant's delay, and the curse springs with -angry haste to her lips. He crosses himself in terror as he walks on, -and all day he will be less comfortable that he encountered a gipsy's -malison at sunrise. - -A village lies in her road; many a long mile before she reaches it, the -white houses and tall acacias seem to mock her with their distinct -outlines and their apparent proximity--will it _never_ be any nearer? -but she arrives there at last, and although she is weary and footsore, -she dreams not of an instant's delay for refreshment or repose. Flocks -of geese hiss and cackle at her as she passes: from the last cottage in -the street a little child runs merrily out with a plaything in its hand, -it totters and falls just across her path; as she replaces it on its -legs she kisses it, that dark old woman, on its bright young brow. It is -a good omen, and she feels easier about her heart now; she walks on with -renewed strength and elasticity--she will win yet. - -Another hour, the sun is high in the heavens, and autumn though it be, -the heat scorches her head through her crimson handkerchief and her -thick grey hair. Ah! she is old now; though the spirit may last for -ever, the limbs fail in despite of it; what if she has miscalculated her -strength? what if she cannot reach the goal after all? Courage! the -crest of the Waldenberg shows high above the plain. Edeldorf, as she -knows well, lies between her and that rugged range of hills, but she -quails to think from what a distance the waving woods of De Rohan's home -should be visible, and that they are not yet in sight. Her limbs are -very weary, and the cold drops stand on her brow, for she is faint and -sick at heart. Gallantly she struggles on. - -It is a tameless race, that ancient nation of which we know not the -origin, and speculate on the destiny in vain. It transmits to its -descendants a strain of blood which seems as invincible by physical -fatigue as it is averse to moral restraint. Lake some wild animal, like -some courser of pure Eastern breed, the gipsy gained second strength as -she toiled. Three hours after sunrise she was literally fresher and -stronger than when she met and cursed the astonished herdsman in the -early morning; and as the distance decreased between the traveller and -her destination, as the white towers of Edeldorf stood out clearer and -clearer in the daylight, glad hope and kindly affection gushed up in her -heart, and, lame, wearied, exhausted as she was, a thrill of triumph -shot through her as she thought she might see her darling in time to -warn him even now. - -At the lodge gate she sinks exhausted on a stone. A dashing hussar -mounting guard, as befits his office, scans her with an astonished look, -and crosses himself more than once with a hurried, inward prayer. He is -a bold fellow enough, and would face an Austrian cuirassier or a Russian -bayonet as readily and fearlessly as a flask of strong Hungarian wine, -but he quails and trembles at the very thought of the Evil Eye. - -"The Count! the Count!" gasps out the breathless Zingynie, "is he at the -Castle? can I see Count Victor?" - -"All in good time, mother!" replies he good-naturedly; "the Count is -gone shooting to the Waldenberg. The carriages have but just driven by; -did you not see them as you came here?" - -"And the Count, is he not riding, as is his custom? will he not pass by -here as he gallops on to overtake them? Has my boy learned to forget the -saddle, and to neglect the good horse that his father's son should -love?" - -"Not to-day, mother," answered the hussar. "All the carriages are gone -to-day, and the Count sits in the first with a bright, beautiful lady, -ah, brighter even than our Countess, and more beautiful, with her red -lips and her sunny hair." - -All hussars are connoisseurs in beauty. - -"My boy, my boy," mutters the old woman; and the hussar, seeing how ill -she looks, produces a flask of his favourite remedy, and insists on her -partaking of its contents. It brings the colour back to her cheek, and -the blood to her heart. - -"And they are gone to the Waldenberg! and I ought to reach it by the -mountain-path before them even now. Oh, for one hour of my girlhood! one -hour of the speed I once thought so little of! I would give all the -rest of my days for that hour now. To the Waldenberg!" - -"To the Waldenberg!" answered the hussar, taking the flask (empty) from -his lips; but even while he spoke she was gone. - -As she followed the path towards the mountain, a large raven flew out of -the copse-wood on her left, and hopped along the track in front of her. -Then the gipsy's lips turned ashy-white once more, for she knew she was -too late. - - - - - CHAPTER XLV - - RETRIBUTION - - -Carriage after carriage drove from Edeldorf to the foot of the -Waldenberg, and deposited its living freight in a picturesque gorge or -cleft of the mountain, where the only road practicable for wheels and -axles terminated, and whence the sportsman, however luxurious, must be -content to perform the remainder of his journey on foot. A hearty -welcome and a sumptuous breakfast at the Castle had commenced the day's -proceedings; but Madame de Rohan had kept her room on the plea of -indisposition, and the only ladies of the party were the Princess and -Countess Valèrie. Victor was in unusual spirits, a strange, wild -happiness lighted up his eye, and spread a halo over his features; but -he was absent and preoccupied at intervals, and his inconsequent answers -and air of distraction more than once elicited marks of undisguised -astonishment from his guests. The Princess was more subdued in manner -than her wont. I watched the two with a painful interest, all the -keener that my opportunity had not yet arrived, and that the confidence -in my own powers, which had supported me the previous evening, was now -rapidly deserting me, as I reflected on the violence of my friend's -fatal attachment, and the character of her who was his destiny. If I -should fail in persuading him, as was more than probable, what would be -the result? What ought I to do next? I had assumed a fearful -responsibility, yet I determined not to shrink from it. Valèrie was gay -and good-humoured as usual. It had been arranged that the two ladies -should accompany the sportsmen to the trysting-place at the foot of the -mountain, and then return to the Castle. The plan originated with -Valèrie, who thus, enjoyed more of her lover's society. Nor did it meet -with the slightest opposition from Victor, who, contrary to his usual -custom of riding on horseback to the mountain, starting after all his -guests were gone, and then galloping at speed to overtake them, had -shown no disinclination to make a fourth in his own barouche, the other -three places being occupied by an Austrian grandee and Prince and -Princess Vocqsal. Had he adhered to his usual custom, the Zingynie -would have met him before he reached the lodge. English thorough-bred -horses, harnessed to carriages of Vienna build, none of them being drawn -by less than four, make light of distance, and it seemed but a short -drive to more than one couple of our party, when we reached the spot at -which our day's sport was likely to commence. - -A merry, chattering, laughing group we were. On a level piece of -greensward, overshadowed by a few gigantic fir-trees, and backed by the -bluff rise of the copse-clothed mountain, lounged the little band of -gentlemen for whose amusement all the preparations had been made, whose -accuracy of eye and readiness of finger were that day to be tested by -the downfall of bear and wolf, deer and wild-boar, not to mention such -ignoble game as partridges, woodcocks, quail, and water-fowl, or such -inferior vermin as hawk and buzzard, marten and wild-cat, all of which -denizens of the wilderness were to be found in plenty on the Waldenberg. -A picturesque assemblage it was, consisting as it did of nearly a score -of the first noblemen in Hungary--men who bore the impress of their -stainless birth not only in chivalry of bearing and frank courtesy of -manner, but in the handsome faces and stately frames that had come down -to them direct from those mailed ancestors whose boast it used to be -that they were the advanced guard of Germany and the very bulwarks of -Christendom. As I looked around on their happy, smiling faces, and -graceful, energetic forms, my blood ran cold to think how the lightest -whisper of one frail woman might bring every one of those noble heads to -the block; how, had she indeed been more or less than woman, a cross -would even now be attached to every one of those time-honoured names on -that fatal list which knows neither pity nor remorse. And when I looked -from those unconscious men to the fair arbitress of their fate, with her -little French bonnet and coquettish dress, with her heightened colour -and glossy hair, I thought, if the history of the world were ever -_really_ laid bare, what a strange history it would be, and how unworthy -we should find had been the motives of some of the noblest actions, how -paltry the agency by which some of the greatest convulsions on record -had been effected. - -She was fastening Victor's powder-horn more securely to its string, and -I remarked that her fingers trembled in the performance of that simple -office. She looked wistfully after him, too, as he waved his hat to bid -her adieu, and stood up in the carriage to watch our ascending party -long after she had started on her homeward journey. She who was -generally so proud, so undemonstrative, so careful not to commit herself -by word or deed! could it have been a presentiment? I felt angry with -her then; alas! alas! my anger had passed away long before the sun went -down. - -"Help me to place the guns, Vere," said Victor in his cheerful, -affectionate voice, as we toiled together up the mountain-side, and -reached the first pass at which it would be necessary to station a -sportsman, well armed with rifle and smooth-bore, to be ready for -whatever might come. "I can depend upon _you_, for I know your -shooting; so I shall put you above the waterfall. Vocqsal and I will -take the two corners just below; and if there is an old boar in the -Waldenberg, he _must_ come to one of us. I expect a famous day's sport, -if we manage it well. I used to say '_Vive la guerre_,' Vere--don't you -remember?--but it's '_Vive la chasse_' now, and has been for a long time -with me." - -He looked so happy; he was so full of life and spirits, I could not help -agreeing with his head forester, a tall, stalwart Hungarian, who -followed him about like his shadow, when he muttered, "It does one good -to see the Count when he gets on the mountain. He is like _himself_ -now." - -Meanwhile the beaters, collected from the neighbouring peasantry, and -who had been all the previous day gradually contracting the large circle -they had made, so as to bring every head of game, and indeed every -living thing, from many a mile round, within the range of our fire-arms, -might be heard drawing nearer and nearer, their shrill voices and -discordant shouts breaking wildly on the silence of the forest, hitherto -uninterrupted, save by the soft whisper of the breeze, or the soothing -murmur of the distant waterfall. Like the hunter when he hears the note -of a hound, and erects his ears, and snorts and trembles with -excitement, I could see many of my fellow-sportsmen change colour and -fidget upon their posts; for well they knew that long before the -beater's cry smites upon the ear it is time to expect the light-bounding -gambol of the deer, the stealthy gallop of the wolf, the awkward advance -of the bear, or the blundering rush of the fierce wild-boar himself; and -as they were keen and experienced sportsmen, heart and soul in the -business of the day, their quick glances and eager attitudes showed that -each was determined no inattention on his own part should baulk him of -his prey. - -One by one Victor placed them in their respective situations, with a -jest and a kind word and a cordial smile for each. Many a hearty friend -remarked that day how Count de Rohan's voice was gayer, his manner even -more fascinating than usual, his whole bearing more full of energy and -happiness and a thorough enjoyment of life. - -At last he had placed them, all but Ropsley and myself, and there was no -time to be lost, for the cry of the beaters came louder and louder on -the breeze; and already a scared buzzard or two, shooting rapidly over -our heads, showed that our neighbourhood was disturbed, and the game of -every description must ere long be on foot. - -"Take the Guardsman above the waterfall, Vere, and put him by the old -oak-tree," said Victor, fanning his brow with his hat after his -exertions. "He can command both the passes from there, and get shooting -enough to remind him of Sebastopol. You take the glade at the foot of -the bare rock. Keep well under cover. I have seen two boars there -already this season. I shall stay here opposite the Prince. Halloa! -Vocqsal, where are you?" - -"Here," replied that worthy, from the opposite side of the torrent, -where he had ensconced himself in a secure and secret nook, commanding -right and left an uninterrupted view of two long narrow vistas in the -forest, and promising to afford an excellent position for the use of -that heavy double-barrelled rifle which he handled with a skill and -precision the result of many a year's practice and many a triumphant -_coup_. - -Unlike the younger sportsmen, Prince Vocqsal's movements were marked by -a coolness and confidence which was of itself sufficient to predicate -success. He had taken off the resplendent wig which adorned his -"imperial front" immediately on the departure of the ladies, and -transferred it to the capacious pockets of a magnificent green velvet -shooting-coat, rich in gold embroidery and filagree buttons of the same -precious metal. Its place was supplied by a black skull-cap, surmounted -by a wide-brimmed, low hat. On the branches of the huge old tree under -which he was stationed he had hung his powder-horn, loading-rod, and -shooting apparatus generally, in such positions as to ensure -replenishing his trusty rifle with the utmost rapidity; and taking a -hunting-knife from his belt, he had stuck it, like a Scottish -Highlander, in his right boot. Since his famous encounter with the bear -at this very spot, the Prince always liked to wear his "best friend," as -he called it, in that place. These arrangements being concluded to his -own satisfaction, he took a goodly-sized hunting-flask from his pocket, -and, after a hearty pull at its contents, wiped his moustache, and -looked about him with the air of a man who had made himself thoroughly -comfortable, and was prepared for any emergency. - -"Here I am, Victor," he shouted once more, "established _en -factionnaire_. Don't shoot point-blank this way, and keep perfectly -quiet after you hear the action has commenced." - -Victor laughingly promised compliance, and Ropsley and I betook -ourselves, with all the haste we could make, to our respective posts. - -It was a steep, though not a long climb, and we had little breath to -spare for conversation. Yet it seemed that something more than the -exhausting nature of our exercise sealed our lips and checked our free -interchange of thought. There was evidently something on Ropsley's -mind; and he, too, appeared aware that there was a burden on mine. It -was not till I reached the old oak-tree at which he was to be stationed, -and was about to leave him for my own place, that he made the slightest -remark. Then he only said-- - -"Vere, what's the matter with De Rohan? There's something very queer -about him to-day; have you not observed it." - -I made some excuse about his keen zest for field-sports, and his -hospitable anxiety that his guests should enjoy their share of the day's -amusement, but the weight at my heart belied my commonplace words, and -when I reached the station assigned me I sank down on the turf oppressed -and crushed by a foreboding of some sudden and dreadful evil. - -Soon a shot afar off at the extreme edge of the wood warned me that the -sport had commenced; another and yet another followed in rapid -succession. Branches began to rustle and dry twigs to crack as the -larger game moved onwards to the centre of the fatal circle. A fine -brown bear came shambling clumsily along within twenty yards of my post; -I hit him in the shoulder, and, watching him as he went on to mark if my -ball had taken effect, saw him roll over and over down the steep -mountain-side, at the same moment that the crack of Ropsley's unerring -rifle reached my ear, and a light puff of smoke from the same weapon -curled and clung around the fir-trees above his hiding-place. A "Bravo" -of encouragement sprang to my lips, but I checked it as it rose, for at -that instant an enormous wild-boar emerged from the covert in front of -me; he was trotting along leisurely enough, and with an undignified and -ungraceful movement sufficiently ludicrous, but his quick eye must have -caught the gleam of my rifle ere I could level it, for he stopped dead -short, turned aside with an angry grunt, and dashed furiously down the -hill towards the waterfall. "Boar forward!" shouted I, preparing to -follow the animal, but in a few moments a shot rang sharply through the -woodlands, succeeded instantaneously by another, and then a scream--a -long, full, wild, ear-piercing scream! and then the ghastly, awful -silence that seems to tell so much. I knew it all long before I reached -him, and yet of those few minutes I have no distinct recollection. -There was a group of tall figures looking down; a confused mass of -rifles, powder-horns, and shooting-gear; a hunting-flask lying white and -glittering on the green turf; and an old woman with a bright crimson -handkerchief kneeling over _something_ on the ground. Every one made -way for me to pass, they seemed to treat me with a strange, awe-stricken -respect--perhaps they knew I was his friend--his oldest friend--and -there he lay, the brave, the bright, the beautiful, stretched at his -length, stone dead on the cold earth, shot through the heart--by whom? -by Prince Vocqsal. - -I might have known there was no hope. I had heard such screams before -cleaving the roar of battle--death shrieks that are only forced from man -when the leaden messenger has reached the very well-spring of his life. -I need not have taken the cold clammy hand in mine, and opened his -dress, and looked with my own eyes upon the blue livid mark. It was all -over; there was no more hope for him than for the dead who have lain a -hundred years in the grave. This morning he was Count de Rohan; Victor -de Rohan, my dear old friend. I thought of him a merry, blue-eyed -child, and then I wept; and my head got better, and so I learned by -degrees what had happened. - -[Illustration: "I might have known there was no hope. _The Interpreter_ -_Page 418_] - -The boar had dashed down at speed towards the waterfall He had crossed -the range of Count de Rohan's rifle, but the Count--and on this fact the -forester laid great stress--the Count had missed his aim, and the animal -almost instantaneously turned towards Prince Vocqsal. The Prince's -rifle rang clear and true; with his usual cool precision he had waited -until the quarry was far past the line of his friend's ambush, and had -pulled the trigger in perfect confidence as to the result. He, too, had -failed for once in the very act of skill on which he so prided himself. -His ball missing the game had struck against the hard knot of an old -tree beyond it, and glancing thence almost at right angles, had lodged -in poor Victor's heart at the very moment when the exhausted Zingynie, -staggering with fatigue, had reached his post, murmuring a few hoarse -words of warning, and an entreaty to abandon the sport only for that -day. As he turned to greet her, the fatal messenger arrived, and with a -convulsive bound into the air, and one loud scream, he fell dead at her -feet. - -Old Prince Vocqsal seemed utterly stupefied. He could neither be -prevailed upon to quit the body, nor did it seem possible to make him -comprehend exactly what had happened, and the share which he had himself -borne so unwittingly in the dreadful catastrophe. The Zingynie, on the -contrary, although pale as death, was composed and almost majestic in -her grief. To her it was the fulfilment of a prophecy--the course of -that destiny which is not to be checked nor stayed. As she followed the -body, with head erect and measured tread, she looked neither to right -nor left, but her black eyes flashed with awful brilliance as she -fastened the dilated orbs on what had once been Victor de Rohan, and -murmured in a low chant words which I now remembered, for the first -time, to have heard many years before, words of which I now knew too -well the gloomy significance. "Birth and Burial--Birth and -Burial--Beware of St. Hubert's Day!" - -So we bore him down to Edeldorf, slowly, solemnly, as we bear one to his -last resting-place. Down the beautiful mountain-side, with its russet -copsewood, and its fine old oaks, and its brilliant clothing of autumnal -beauty; down the white sandy road between the vine-gardens, with their -lightsome foliage and their clusters of blushing grapes, and the buxom -peasant-women, and ruddy, happy children, even now so gay and noisy, but -hushed and horror-bound as they stopped to look and learn; down across -the long level plain, where the flocks were feeding securely, and the -cattle stood dreamily, and clouds of insects danced and hovered in the -beams of an afternoon sun. Slowly, solemnly, we wound across the plain; -slowly, solemnly, we reached the wide park-gates. A crowd of mourners, -gathering as we went, followed eager and silent in the rear. Slowly, -solemnly, we filed up the long avenue between the acacias, bearing the -lord of that proud domain, the last of the De Rohans, to his ancestral -home. - -Two ladies were walking in the garden as we approached the house; I -caught sight of their white dresses before they had themselves perceived -our ghastly train. They were Constance de Rohan, and Rose, Princess -Vocqsal. - -There was deep and holy mourning, there were bitter scalding tears that -night in the Castle of Edeldorf. On the morrow, when the sun rose, -there was one broken heart within its walls. - - - - - CHAPTER XLVI - - VÆ VICTIS! - - -Valèrie de Rohan is Mrs. Ropsley now; she has dropped the rank of -Countess, and prides herself upon the facility with which she has -adopted the character of an English matron. She speaks our language, if -anything, a little less correctly than when I knew her first; never -shakes hands with any of her male acquaintances, and cannot be brought -to take a vehement interest in Low Church bishops, parliamentary -majorities, or the costly shawls and general delinquencies of her pretty -next-door neighbour, whose private history is no concern of yours or -mine. In all other respects she is British enough to be own -grand-daughter to Boadicea herself. She makes her husband's breakfast -punctually at ten; comes down in full morning toilet, dressed for the -day, bringing with her an enormous bunch of keys, such as we bachelors -scrutinise with mysterious awe, and of the utility of which, inasmuch as -they are invariably forgotten and left on the breakfast-table, we -nourish vague and secret doubts; further, she studies Shakspeare and -Burke (not the statesman, but the compiler of that national work which -sets forth the pedigrees of peers and baronets, and honourable messieurs -and mesdames) with divided ardour, and although she thinks London a -little _triste_, believes her own house in Belgravia to be a perfect -paradise, and loves its lord and hers with a pure, simple, and entire -devotion. Mrs. Ropsley is very happy, and so is he. - -"The boy is father to the man." I can trace in the late Guardsman--who -relinquished his profession at the Peace--the same energy, the same -calculating wisdom, the same practical good sense, that distinguished -his youth; but he has lost the selfishness which made his earlier -character so unamiable, and has acquired in its stead an enlarged view -of the duties and purposes of life, a mellower tone of thought, a deeper -sense of feeling as to its pleasures and its pains. He has discovered -that the way to be happy is not to surround oneself with a rampart of -worldly wisdom, not to cover the human breast with a shield of cynical -defiance, which always fails it at its need, but to take one's share -manfully and contentedly of the roses as of the thorns--no more ashamed -to luxuriate in the fragrance of the one, than to wince from the sharp -points of the other. He entered on life with one predominant idea, and -that one perhaps the least worthy of all those which sanguine boyhood -proposes so ardently to itself; but he had purpose and energy, and -though self was his idol, he worshipped with a perseverance and -consistency worthy of a better cause. Circumstances, which have warped -so many to evil, rescued him at the turning point of his destiny. When -he met Valèrie at Vienna, he was rapidly hardening into a bold, bad man, -but the affection with which she inspired him saved him, as such -affection has saved many a one before, from that most dangerous state of -all in which he lies who has nothing to care for, nothing to hope, and -consequently nothing to fear. Oh! you who have it in your power to save -the fallen, think of this. How slight is the cable that tows many a -goodly vessel into port; what a mere thread will buoy up a drowning man; -do not stand on the bank and wag your heads, and say, "I told you so;" -stretch but a little finger, throw him the rope that lies to your hand; -nay, think it no shame to wet your feet and bring him gently and -tenderly ashore, for is he not your brother? - -The good work that Valèrie's influence had begun, was perfected by the -hardships and horrors of the Crimean campaign. No man could witness the -sufferings so cheerfully borne, or take his share in the kindly offices -so heartily interchanged on that dreary plateau above Sebastopol, -without experiencing an improvement in his moral being, and imbibing far -more correct notions than he had entertained before as to the -_realities_ of life and death. No man could take his turn of duty day -by day in the trenches, see friends and comrades one by one struck down -by grape-shot, or withering from disease, and not feel that he too held -life on a startlingly uncertain tenure; that if the material were indeed -all-in-all, he had no business there; that the ideal has a large share -even in this life, and will probably constitute the very essence of that -which is to come. It is a mistake to suppose that danger hardens the -heart; on the contrary, it renders it peculiarly alive to the softer and -kindlier emotions. The brave are nearly always gentler, more -susceptible, than apparently weaker natures; and many a man who does not -quail at the roar of a battery, who confronts an advancing column with a -careless smile and a pleasant jest upon his lips, will wince like a -child at an injury or an unkindness dealt him from the hand he loves. - -Ropsley, too, had many a pang of remorse to contend with, many an hour -of unavailing regret, as he looked back to the mischief he had wrought -by his unscrupulous schemes for his own benefit--the misery, to which in -his now softened nature he was keenly alive, that a thoughtless -selfishness had brought on his oldest and dearest friends. Poor Victor -married in haste, when piqued and angry with one who, whatever might be -her faults, was the only woman on earth to _him_. Constance Beverley, -driven into this alliance by his own false representations, and her -father's ill-judged vehemence. Another old school-fellow, whom he was -at last beginning to value and esteem, attributing the wreck of all he -hoped and cherished in the world to this fatal marriage; and he himself -ere long wishing to be connected by the nearest and dearest ties with -those whose future he had been so instrumental in blasting, and who -could not but look upon him as the prime source and origin of all their -unhappiness. - -No wonder Ropsley was an altered man; no wonder Victor's sudden and -awful death made a still further impression on his awakened feelings; no -wonder he prized the blessing he had won, and determined to make himself -worthy of a lot the golden joys of which his youth would have sneered at -and despised, but which he was grateful to find his manhood was capable -of appreciating as they deserved. - -Happiness stimulates some tempers to action, as grief goads others to -exertion; and Ropsley is not one to remain idle. Though Edeldorf has -passed away from the name of De Rohan for evermore, he has attained a -large fortune with his wife; but affluence and comfort alone will not -fill up the measure of such a man's existence, and his energetic -character will be sure to find some outlet for the talents and -acquirements it possesses. Politics will probably be his sphere; and -those who know of what efforts a bold far-seeing nature is capable, when -backed by study, reflection, above all, common sense; and when blessed -with a happy home of love on which to rest, and from which to gather -daily new hope and strength, will not think me over sanguine in -predicting that something more than a "_Hic Jacet_" will, in the fulness -of time, be carved on Ropsley's tombstone; that he will do something -more in his generation than eat and drink, and pay his son's debts, and -make a will, and so lie down and die, and be forgotten. - -It is good to be firm, strong-minded, and practical; it is good to swim -with the stream, and, without ever losing sight of the landing-place, to -lose no advantage of the current, no lull of the back-water, no rippling -eddy in one's favour. It is not good to struggle blindly on against -wind and tide, to trust all to a gallant heart, to neglect the beacon -and the landmark, to go down at last, unconquered it may be in spirit, -but beaten and submerged for all that, in fact. There is an old tale of -chivalry which bears with it a deep and somewhat bitter moral: of a -certain knight who, in the madness of his love, vowed to cast aside his -armour and ride three courses through the mêlée with no covering save -his lady's night-weeds. Helm, shield, and corslet, mail and plate, and -stout buff jerkin, all are cast aside. With bared brow and naked breast -the knight is up and away!--amongst those gathering warriors clad from -head to foot in steel. Some noble hearts--God bless them!--turn aside -to let him pass; but many a fierce blow and many a cruel thrust are -delivered at the devoted champion in the throng. Twice, thrice he rides -that fearful gauntlet; and ere his good horse stops, the white -night-dress is fluttering in rags--torn and hacked, and saturated with -blood. It is a tale of Romance, mark that! and the knight recovers, to -be happy. Had it been Reality, his ladye might have wrung her hands -over a clay-cold corpse in vain. Woe to him who sets lance in rest to -ride a tournament with the world! Woe to the warm imagination, the -kindly feelings, the generosity that scorns advantage, the soft and -vulnerable heart! How it bleeds in the conflict, how it suffers in the -defeat! Yet are there some battles in which it is perhaps nobler to -lose than to win. Who shall say in what victory consists? "Discretion -is the better part of valour," quoth Prudence; but Courage, with -herald-voice, still shouts, "Fight on! brave knights, fight on!" - -In the tomb of his fathers, in a gloomy vault, where a light is -constantly kept burning, sleeps Victor de Rohan, my boyhood's friend, my -more than brother. Many a stout and warlike ancestor lies about him; -many a bold Crusader, whose marble effigy, with folded hands and crossed -legs, makes silent boast that he had struck for the good cause in the -Holy Land, rests there, to shout and strike no more. Not one amongst -them all that had a nobler heart than he who joined them in the flower -of manhood--the last of his long and stainless line. As the old -white-haired sexton opens the door of the vault to trim and replenish -the glimmering death-lamp, a balmy breeze steals in and stirs the heavy -silver fringe on the pall of Victor's coffin--a balmy breeze that plays -round the statue of the Virgin on the chapel roof, and sweeps across -many a level mile of plain, and many a fair expanse of wood and water, -till it reaches the fragrant terraces and the frowning towers of distant -Sieben-bürgen--a balmy breeze that cools the brow of yon pale drooping -lady, who turns an eager, wistful face towards its breath. For why? It -blows direct from where he sleeps at Edeldorf. - -She is not even clad in mourning, yet who has mourned him as she has -done? She might not even see him borne to his last home, yet who so -willingly would lay her down by his side, to rest for ever with him in -the grave? - -Alas for you, Rose, Princess Vocqsal!--you who must needs play with -edged tools till they cut you to the quick!--you who must needs rouse -passions that have blighted you to the core!--you who never knew you had -a heart till the eve of St. Hubert's Day, and found it empty and broken -on the morrow of that festival! - -She tends that old man now with the patience and devotion of a -saint--that old childish invalid in his garden chair, prattling of his -early exploits, playing contentedly with his little dog, fretful and -impatient about his dinner. This is all that a paralytic stroke, acting -on a constitution weakened by excess, has left of Prince Vocqsal. - -Nor is the wife less altered than her husband. Who would recognise in -those pale sunken features, in that hair once so sunny, now streaked -with whole masses of grey, in that languid step and listless, fragile -form, the fresh, sparkling roseate beauty of the famous Princess -Vocqsal? She has done with beauty now; she has done with love and -light, and all that constitute the charm and the sunshine of life; but -she has still a duty to perform; she has still an expiation to make; and -with a force and determination which many a less erring nature might -fail to imitate, she has set herself resolutely to the task. - -Save to attend to her religious duties, comprising many an act of severe -and grievous penance, she never leaves her patient. All that woman's -care and woman's tenderness can provide, she lavishes on that querulous -invalid; with woman's instinct of loving that which she protects, he is -dearer to her now than anything on earth; but oh! it is a sad, sad face -that she turns to the breeze from Edeldorf. - -Her director comes to see her twice a day; he is a grave, stern -priest--an old man who has shriven criminals on the scaffold--who has -accustomed himself to read the most harrowing secrets of the human soul. -He should be dead to sensibility, and blunted to all softer emotions, -yet he often leaves the Princess with tears in his grave cold eyes. - -She is a Roman Catholic; do not therefore argue that her repentance may -not avail. She has been a sinner--scarlet, if you will, of the deepest -dye; do not therefore say that the door of mercy will be shut in her -face. There are sins besides those of the feelings--crimes which spring -from more polluted sources than the affections. The narrow gate is wide -enough for all. If you are striving to reach it, walking hopefully -along the strait path, it is better not to turn aside and take upon -yourself the punishment of every prostrate bleeding sinner; if you must -needs stop, why not bind the gaping wounds, and help the sufferer to -resume the uphill journey? There are plenty of flints lying about, we -know--heavy, sharp, and three-cornered--such as shall strike the poor -cowering wretch to the earth, never to rise again. Which of us shall -stoop to lift one of them in defiance of Divine mercy? Which of us -shall dare to say, "I am qualified to cast the first stone at her"? - - - - - CHAPTER XLVII - - THE RETURN OF SPRING - - -The smoke curls up once more from the chimneys of Alton Grange; the -woman in possession, she with the soapy arms and unkempt hair, who was -always cleaning with no result, has been paid for her occupancy and sent -back to her own untidy home in the adjoining village. The windows are -fresh painted, the lawn fresh mown, the garden trimmed, and the walks -rolled; nay, the unwonted sound of wheels is sometimes heard upon the -gravel sweep in front of the house, for the country neighbours, a race -who wage unceasing war against anything mysterious, and whose thirst for -"news," and energy in the acquisition of gossip, are as meritorious as -they are uncalled for, have lavished their attentions on the solitary, -and welcomed him back to his lonely home far more warmly than he -deserves. The estate, too, has been at nurse ever since he went away. -An experienced man of business has taken it into his own especial -charge, but somehow the infant has not attained any great increase of -vigour under his fostering care, and the proprietor is ungrateful enough -to think he could have managed it better for himself. Inside, the house -is dark and gloomy still. I miss poor Bold dreadfully. After a day of -attention to those trivial details which the landowner dignifies with -the title of "business," or worse still, of vacant, dreary hours passed -in listless apathy, it is very lonely to return to a solitary dinner and -a long silent evening, to feel that the wag of a dog's tail against the -floor would be company, and to own there is solace in the sympathy even -of a brute's unreasoning eye. It is not good for man to be alone, and -that is essentially a morbid state in which solitude is felt to be a -comfort and a relief; more especially does the want of occupation and -companionship press upon one who has been leading a life of busy -every-day excitement such as falls to the lot of the politician or the -soldier; and it has always appeared to me that the worst of all possible -preparations for the quiet, homely duties of a country gentleman, are -the very two professions so generally chosen as the portals by which the -heir of a landed estate is to enter life. It takes years to tame the -soldier, and the politician seldom _really_ settles down at all; but of -course you will do what your fathers did--if the boy is dull, you will -gird a sword upon his thigh; if he is conceited, you will get him into -Parliament, and fret at the obtuse deafness of the House. Perhaps you -may as well be disappointed one way as the other; whatever you do with -him, by the time he is thirty you will wish you had done differently, -and so will he. Action, however, is the only panacea for despondency; -work, work, is the remedy for lowness of spirits. What am I that I -should sit here with folded hands, and repine at the common lot? There -are none so humble but they can do some little good, and in this the -poor are far more active than the rich. Let me take example by the day -labourers at my gate. There is a poor family not a mile from here who -sadly lack assistance, and whom for the last fortnight I have neglected -to visit. A gleam of sunshine breaks in through the mullioned window, -and gilds even the black oak wainscoting: the clouds are passing rapidly -away, I will take my hat and walk off at once towards the common. Oh, -the hypocrisy of human motives! The poor family are tenants of -Constance de Rohan; their cottage lies in the direct road to Beverley -Manor. - -It has been raining heavily, and the earth is completely saturated with -moisture. The late spring, late even for England, is bursting forth -almost with tropical luxuriance. Dank and dripping, the fragrant hedges -glisten in the noonday beams. Brimful is every blossom in the orchard, -fit chalice for the wild bird or the bee. Thick and tufted, the wet -grass sprouts luxuriantly in the meadow-lands where the cowslip hangs -her scented head, and the buttercup, already dry, reflects the sunshine -from its golden hollow. The yellow brook laughs merrily on beneath the -foot-bridge, and the swallows shoot hither and thither high up against -the clear blue sky. How fresh and tender is the early green of the -noble elms in the foreground, and the distant larches on the hill. How -sweet the breath of spring; how fair and lovable the smile upon her -face. How full of hope and promise and life and light and joy. Oh, the -giant capacity for happiness of the human heart! Oh, what a world it -might be! What a world it is! - -The children are playing about before the door of the cottage on the -common. Dirty, and noisy, and rosy, the little urchins stare, -wonder-struck, at the stranger, and disappear tumultuously into certain -back settlements, where there are a garden, and a beehive, and a pig. -An air of increased comfort pervades the dwelling, and its mistress has -lost the wan, anxious look it pained me so to see some ten days ago. -With a corner of her apron she dusts a chair for me to sit down, and -prepares herself for a gossip, in which experience tells me the talking -will be all one way. "Her 'old man' is gone out to-day for the first -time to his work. He is quite stout again at last, but them low fevers -keeps a body down terrible, and the doctor's stuff was no good, and she -thinks after all it's the fine weather as has brought him round; -leastways, that and the broth Lady Beverley sent him from the Manor -House; and she to come up herself only yesterday was a week, through a -pour of rain, poor dear! for foreign parts has not agreed with her, and -she's not so rosy as she were when I knew her first, but a born angel -all the same, and ever will be." - -Tears were in the good woman's eyes, and her voice was choked. I stayed -to hear no more. Lady Beverley, as she called her, was, then, once more -at home. She had been here--here on this very spot, but one short week -ago. I could have knelt down and kissed the very ground she had -trodden. I longed if it was only to see her footprints. I, who had -schooled myself to such a pitch of stoicism and apathy, who had stifled -and rooted out and cut down the germs of passion till I had persuaded -myself that they had ceased to exist, and that my heart had become hard -and barren as the rock,--I, who had thought that when the time came I -should meet her in London with a kindly greeting, as became an old -friend, and never turn to look the way she went; and now, because she -had been here a week ago, because there was a possibility of her being -at the moment within three miles of where I stood, to feel the blood -mounting to my brow, the tears starting to my eyes,--oh! it was scarlet -shame, and yet it was burning happiness too. - -The sun shone brighter, the birds sang more merrily now. There was no -longer a mockery in the spring. The dry branch seemed to blossom once -more--the worn and weary nature to imbibe fresh energies and renewed -life. There was hope on this side the grave, hope that might be -cherished without bitterness or remorse. Very dark had been the night, -but day was breaking at last. Very bitter and tedious had been the -winter, but spring, real spring, was bursting forth. I could hardly -believe in the prospect of happiness thus opened to me. I trembled to -think of what would be my destiny if I should lose it all again. - -In the ecstasy of joy, as in the tumult of uncertainty and the agony of -grief, there is but one resource for failing human strength, how feeble -and failing none know so well as those whom their fellows deem the -noblest and the strongest. That resource has never yet played man false -at his need. The haughty brow may be compelled to stoop, the boasted -force of will be turned aside, the proud spirit be broken and humbled to -the dust, the race be lost to the swift and the battle go against the -strong, but the victory shall be wrested, the goal shall be attained by -the clasped hands and the bended knees, and the loving heart that -through good and evil has trusted steadfastly to the end. - - - * * * * * - - -I may lock the old desk now. I have told my tale; 'tis but the -every-day story of the ups and downs of life--the winnings and losings -of the game we all sit down to play. One word more, and I have done. - -In the solitude of my chamber I took from its hiding-place a withered -flower; once it had been a beautiful white rose, how beautiful, how -cherished, none knew so well as I. Long and steadfastly I gazed at it, -conjuring up the while a vision of that wild night, with its flying -clouds and its waving fir-trees, and the mocking moonlight shining -coldly on the gravel path, and the bitterness of that hour, the -bitterness of all that had yet fallen to my lot, and so I fell asleep. -And behold it seemed to be noon, midsummer-noon in a garden of flowers, -hot and bright and beautiful. The butterfly flitted in the sunshine, -and the wood-pigeon mourned sweetly and sadly in the shade. Little -children with laughing eyes played and rolled about upon the sward, and -ran up, warm and eager, to offer me posies of the choicest flowers. One -by one I refused them all, for amongst the pride of the garden there was -none to me like my own withered rose that I had cherished so long, and I -turned away from each as it was brought me, and pressed her closer to my -heart where she always lay. - -Then, even as I clasped her she bloomed in her beauty once more, fresh -and pure and radiant as of old, steeping my very soul in fragrance, a -child of earth indeed, but wafting her sweetness up to heaven. - -And I awoke, and prayed that it might not be all a dream. - - - - - THE END - - - - - _Richard Clay & Sons, Limited, London & Bungay._ - - - - - - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE INTERPRETER *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/40660 - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one -owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and -you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission -and without paying copyright royalties. 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