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- float: left; - margin-right: 1em } - -.align-right { clear: right; - float: right; - margin-left: 1em } - -.align-center { margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto } - -div.shrinkwrap { display: table; } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { margin: 5% 10% 5% 10% } - -/* compact list items containing just one p */ -li p.pfirst { margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0 } - -.first { margin-top: 0 !important; - text-indent: 0 !important } -.last { margin-bottom: 0 !important } - -span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } -img.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; max-width: 25% } -span.dropspan { font-variant: small-caps } - -.no-page-break { page-break-before: avoid !important } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -@media screen { - .coverpage, .frontispiece, .titlepage, .verso, .dedication, .plainpage - { margin: 10% 0; } - - div.clearpage, div.cleardoublepage - { margin: 10% 0; border: none; border-top: 1px solid gray; } - - .vfill { margin: 5% 10% } -} - -@media print { - div.clearpage { page-break-before: always; padding-top: 10% } - div.cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 10% } - - .vfill { margin-top: 20% } - h2.title { margin-top: 20% } -} - -</style> -<title>THE INTERPRETER</title> -<meta name="PG.Rights" content="Public Domain" /> -<meta name="PG.Title" content="The Interpreter" /> -<meta name="PG.Producer" content="Al Haines" /> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<meta name="DC.Creator" content="G. J. Whyte-Melville" /> -<meta name="DC.Created" content="1880" /> -<meta name="MARCREL.ill" content="Lucy E. Kemp-Welch" /> -<meta name="PG.Id" content="40660" /> -<meta name="PG.Released" content="2012-09-04" /> -<meta name="DC.Language" content="en" /> -<meta name="DC.Title" content="The Interpreter A Tale of the War" /> - -<link href="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" rel="schema.DCTERMS" /> -<link href="http://id.loc.gov/vocabulary/relators" rel="schema.MARCREL" /> -<meta content="The Interpreter A Tale of the War" name="DCTERMS.title" /> -<meta content="interp.rst" name="DCTERMS.source" /> -<meta content="en" scheme="DCTERMS.RFC4646" name="DCTERMS.language" /> -<meta content="2012-10-06T16:19:31.742727+00:00" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.modified" /> -<meta content="Project Gutenberg" name="DCTERMS.publisher" /> -<meta content="Public Domain in the USA." name="DCTERMS.rights" /> -<link href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/40660" rel="DCTERMS.isFormatOf" /> -<meta content="\G. \J. Whyte-Melville" name="DCTERMS.creator" /> -<meta content="Lucy \E. Kemp-Welch" name="MARCREL.ill" /> -<meta content="2012-09-04" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.created" /> -<meta content="width=device-width" name="viewport" /> -<meta content="EpubMaker 0.3.19b4 by Marcello Perathoner <webmaster@gutenberg.org>" name="generator" /> -<style type="text/css"> -.pageno { position: absolute; right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.pageno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.lineno { position: absolute; left: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.lineno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.toc-pageref { float: right } -pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } -</style> -</head> -<body> -<div class="document" id="the-interpreter"> -<h1 class="document-title level-1 pfirst title">THE INTERPRETER</h1> - -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="clearpage"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="align-None container language-en noindent pgheader" id="pg-header" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<p class="noindent pfirst">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 <a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a> -included with this eBook or online at -<a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a>.</p> -<p class="noindent pnext"></p> -<div class="noindent vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<div class="align-None container noindent white-space-pre-line" id="pg-machine-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst white-space-pre-line"><span class="white-space-pre-line">Title: The Interpreter<br /> - A Tale of the War<br /> -<br /> -Author: G. J. Whyte-Melville<br /> -<br /> -Release Date: September 04, 2012 [EBook #40660]<br /> -<br /> -Language: English<br /> -<br /> -Character set encoding: UTF-8</span></p> -</div> -<div class="noindent vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line">*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK <span>THE INTERPRETER</span> ***</p> -<div class="noindent vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p> -<div class="noindent vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p> -</div> -<div class="align-None container coverpage"> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure" style="width: 52%" id="figure-26"> -<span id="cover"></span><img class="align-center" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" " src="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<div class="caption figure"> -Cover</div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container frontispiece"> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure" style="width: 63%" id="figure-27"> -<span id="my-heart-sank-within-me"></span><img class="align-center" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" " src="images/img-front.jpg" /> -<div class="caption figure"> -"'My heart sank within me.'" (Page <a class="reference internal" href="#id1">172</a>.) <em class="italics">Frontispiece</em></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None center container titlepage white-space-pre-line"> -<p class="pfirst white-space-pre-line x-large">The Interpreter</p> -<p class="large pnext white-space-pre-line">A Tale of the War</p> -<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="medium pfirst white-space-pre-line">By</p> -<p class="large pnext white-space-pre-line">G. J. Whyte-Melville</p> -<p class="pnext small white-space-pre-line">Author of "Digby Grand," "General Bounce," etc.</p> -<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="medium pfirst white-space-pre-line">Illustrated by Lucy E. Kemp-Welch</p> -<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="medium pfirst white-space-pre-line">New York<br /> -Longmans, Green & Co.</p> -<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container plainpage white-space-pre-line"> -<p class="center large pfirst white-space-pre-line">CONTENTS</p> -<p class="left medium pnext white-space-pre-line">CHAP.</p> -<div class="vspace white-space-pre-line" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<ol class="left medium upperroman simple white-space-pre-line"> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#the-old-desk">The Old Desk</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#the-deserter">The Deserter</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#par-nobile">"Par Nobile"</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#father-and-son">Father and Son</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#the-zingynies">The Zingynies</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#school">School</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#play">Play</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#the-truants">The Truants</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#ropsley">Ropsley</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#beverley-manor">Beverley Manor</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#dulce-domum">Dulce Domum</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#alton-grange">Alton Grange</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#lethalis-arundo">"Lethalis Arundo"</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#the-picture">The Picture</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#beverley-mere">Beverley Mere</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#princess-vocqsal">Princess Vocqsal</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#the-common-lot">The Common Lot</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#omar-pasha">Omar Pasha</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#skender-bey">"'Skender Bey"</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#the-beloochee">The Beloochee</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#zuleika">Zuleika</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#valerie">Valerie</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#forewarned">Forewarned</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#arcades-ambo">"Arcades Ambo"</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#dark-and-dreary">"Dark and Dreary"</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#surveillance">"Surveillance"</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#ghosts-of-the-past">Ghosts of the Past</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#la-dame-aux-camellias">La Dame aux Camellias</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#a-merry-masque">"A Merry Masque"</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#the-golden-horn">The Golden Horn</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#the-seraskerat">The Seraskerât</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#a-turk-s-harem">A Turk's Harem</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#my-patient">My Patient</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#messirie-s">"Messirie's"</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#the-wolf-and-the-lamb">"The Wolf and the Lamb"</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#the-front">"The Front"</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#a-quiet-night">"A Quiet Night"</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#the-grotto">The Grotto</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#the-redan">The Redan</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#the-war-minister-at-home">The War-Minister at Home</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#wheels-within-wheels">Wheels within Wheels</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#too-late">"Too Late"</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#the-skeleton">"The Skeleton"</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#the-gipsy-s-dream">The Gipsy's Dream</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#retribution">Retribution</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#vae-victis">Væ Victis!</a></p> -</li> -<li class="white-space-pre-line"><p class="first pfirst white-space-pre-line"><a class="reference internal white-space-pre-line" href="#the-return-of-spring">The Return of Spring</a></p> -</li> -</ol> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst x-large" id="the-old-desk">THE INTERPRETER</p> -<p class="center large pnext"><em class="italics">A TALE OF THE WAR</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst">CHAPTER I</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">THE OLD DESK</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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; <em class="italics">O beate Sexti!</em> -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:--</p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line">For the day will soon be over, and the minutes are of gold,</div> -<div class="line">And the wicket shuts at sundown, and the shepherd leaves the fold.</div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center medium pfirst">LETTER I</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="left pfirst small">[#] The dandy's nickname for the Prince Regent.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">"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 <em class="italics">are</em> 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 <em class="italics">in the dark hour</em>; -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 <em class="italics">délire d'un peintre</em>, the line of -beauty and the brush!</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">should</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">Bell's Life</em> 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,</p> -<p class="pnext">"PHILIP EGERTON."</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="left medium pfirst">LETTER II</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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:--</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Austrian Sub-Lieutenant</em>, 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?'</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Old Man</em>--'My father, I know nothing.'</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Austrian Officer</em>, 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.'</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Old Man</em>, again--'My father, I know nothing.'</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Officer</em>, 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.'</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Old Man</em>, as before--'My father, I know nothing.'</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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, <em class="italics">Vive valeque</em>."</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="the-deserter">CHAPTER II</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">THE DESERTER</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center medium pfirst">LETTER III</p> -<p class="pnext">"'I am a soldier, sir,' said my new acquaintance, whilst -I leant back in the carriage smoking my cigar, and, <em class="italics">more -meo</em>, 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 -<em class="italics">their</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"'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."</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="par-nobile">CHAPTER III</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">"PAR NOBILE"</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"My name is Victor," was the proud reply, "and <em class="italics">you</em> -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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"What becomes of the people that are killed, Victor?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"We ride over their bodies," says Victor, who has just -delivered a finishing thrust at his phantom foe.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Yes, but what <em class="italics">becomes</em> 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"I will be a soldier," answers the child, "but not an -Austrian soldier like you: Austrian soldiers are not so -brave as Hungarians."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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. -<em class="italics">Sapperment!</em> he is quiet, but I will answer for it he fears -neither man nor devil."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"Pardon, <em class="italics">mon cher</em>," 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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">De Rohan smiled good-humouredly, and filled his glass.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">breastplate all -over</em>.' Come, Wallenstein, put your breastplate on--it is very -light, and fits very easily."</p> -<p class="pnext">The General filled again, but returned to the charge.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">cowards by education</em>, 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.'"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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, -<em class="italics">though we are most cursedly afraid</em>.'"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">This <em class="italics">naïve</em> confession excited much amusement amongst -the guests; but De Rohan's confidence in his boy's -courage was not to be so shaken.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"If you please, Monsieur le Comte, if Victor goes, I will -go too."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">sauve qui peut</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"What is that?" says he, in trembling accents.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="father-and-son">CHAPTER IV</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">FATHER AND SON</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">now</em> you are safe. -Father, I shall come back some day, and offer you a home. -Fear not for me. I have it <em class="italics">here</em> 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 <em class="italics">command</em>. 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="the-zingynies">CHAPTER V</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">THE ZINGYNIES</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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 <em class="italics">love</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"What, mother?" laughed out her companion. "Every -gipsy can tell fortunes; mine has been told many a time, -but it never came true."</p> -<p class="pnext">She was studying the lines on his palm with earnest -attention. She raised her dark eyes angrily to his face.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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,</p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line">Like Mad Tom, the chiefest care</div> -<div class="line">Was horse to ride and weapon wear.</div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Good luck to you, young Count! shall I tell your -fortune?" said one.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Little, honourable cavalier, give me your hand, and -cross it with a 'zwantziger,'" said another.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">Victor looked half afraid, although he began to laugh.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Let me go," said he, tugging vigorously at his reins; -"papa desired me not to have my fortune told."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">Victor began to relent. "If Vere will have his told first, -I will," said he, turning half bashfully, half eagerly to me.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="school">CHAPTER VI</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">SCHOOL</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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 -<em class="italics">youth</em>, but, for Heaven's sake, spare the <em class="italics">child</em>.</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"Egerton to come up."</p> -<p class="pnext">Egerton goes up accordingly, with many misgivings, and -embarks, like a desperate man, on the loathed <em class="italics">infandum -Regina jubes</em>.</p> -<p class="pnext">The result may be gathered from March's observations -as he returns me the book.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"Please, sir, I tried to learn it, sir; indeed I did, sir."</p> -<p class="pnext">"Don't tell me, sir; <em class="italics">tried</em> 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 <em class="italics">shall</em> learn, or I'll know the reason why."</p> -<p class="pnext">I may remark that March, though an excellent scholar, -professed utter contempt for all but the dead languages.</p> -<p class="pnext">I determined to make one more effort to save my half-holiday.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Remain in, sir, till perfect, and repeat to Mr. Manners, -without a mistake--Mr. Manners, you will be kind enough -to see, <em class="italics">without a mistake</em>! 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">So again I turn to the <em class="italics">infandum Eegina Jubes</em>, and sit -me down and cry.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">Morte -d'Arthur</em>, 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Vere," said he, "you must go to school."</p> -<p class="pnext">The announcement took away my breath: I had never, -in my wildest moments, contemplated such a calamity.</p> -<p class="pnext">"To school, papa; and when?" I mustered up courage -to ask, clinging like a convict to the hope of a reprieve.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">alone</em>.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="play">CHAPTER VII</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">PLAY</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">Dinner was over, and play-time begun for all but me, -and again I turned to the <em class="italics">infandum Regina jubes</em>, and sat -me down to cry.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">Not so Victor; the young Hungarian feared, I believe, -nothing on earth, and <em class="italics">respected</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">Victor rushed back triumphantly into the schoolroom, -where I still sat desponding at my desk, and Ropsley -followed him.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"But I <em class="italics">can't</em> 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">Æneid</em> -without book from beginning to end.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Do you want to go out to-day, Vere?" said he.</p> -<p class="pnext">I clasped my hands in supplication, as I replied, "Oh! -I would give anything, <em class="italics">anything</em>, to get away from this -horrid schoolroom, and 'shirk out' with Victor and Bold."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Very well," said the great man; "come with me to -Manners, and bring your book with you."</p> -<p class="pnext">So I followed my deliverer into the playground, with -the <em class="italics">infandum Regina</em> still weighing heavily on my soul.</p> -<p class="pnext">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, -<em class="italics">secundum artem</em>, 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">as if he was shot</em>. -If I had hit him as hard as I could, sir, I <em class="italics">must</em> have -killed him!"</p> -<p class="pnext">Our usher was a good-natured fellow, notwithstanding.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 -<em class="italics">infandum Regina</em>, and Ropsley had added some dozen -masterly hits to the usher's score. Ropsley always liked -another man's "innings" better than his own.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">were</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">Ropsley tendered a large cigar to Manners, lit one -himself, settled his long limbs comfortably on the seat, -and gave me his orders.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">your</em> 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"He only got you off because he wanted you to 'shirk -out' for him," exclaimed my indignant chum; "it's a -shame, <em class="italics">that</em> 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 <em class="italics">such</em> a beautiful afternoon."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"Oh, never mind the names, and a licking is soon over," -replied Victor, who learned little from his <em class="italics">Horace</em> save the -<em class="italics">carpe diem</em> 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">We were across the playground like lapwings. Ropsley, -who was deep in his cigar and a copy of <em class="italics">Bell's Life</em>, 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="the-truants">CHAPTER VIII</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">THE TRUANTS</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Sappramento!</em>" exclaimed Victor, swearing, in his -astonishment, his father's favourite oath--"a doctor, -Vere! and why?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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--<em class="italics">so -ugly</em>! 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 <em class="italics">me</em>. 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 <em class="italics">make</em> 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 <em class="italics">you</em> 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.'"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">A rough grasp was laid on toy shoulder, and a hoarse -voice roused me:</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">he</em> has to say to this here."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">you</em>, -young gentleman, if you <em class="italics">be</em> a young gentleman, you <em class="italics">had</em> -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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">The man was evidently mollified, and a good deal -puzzled into the bargain. I saw my advantage, and -pressed it vigorously.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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. <em class="italics">Run</em>! 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">Mr. Barrells was a man of reflection, as keepers generally -are. He examined the knife carefully, and spoke in an -undertone to his friend.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">uncommon-looking</em>, 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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">be</em> young gentlemen; and so, Miss Constance, -the law must take its course."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">What</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Yes," replied Victor, "but it's not over yet."</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="ropsley">CHAPTER IX</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">ROPSLEY</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.'"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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. <em class="italics">Aide-toi, et Dieu t'aidera</em>, 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">quite</em> give me the position I -require."</p> -<p class="pnext">Such was Ropsley at this earliest period of our -acquaintance.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">Any other boy in the school would have gone in a gig.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="beverley-manor">CHAPTER X</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">BEVERLEY MANOR</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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 <em class="italics">Racing Calendar</em>, <em class="italics">White's -Farriery</em>, and <em class="italics">Hawker's Instructions to Young Sportsmen</em>. -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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">I cannot get a -farthing from it</em>" was Sir Harry's conclusive reasoning, -which must have satisfied Mr. Mechi himself.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"What's all this about, Barrells? and why are these -lads here?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"We are gentlemen, and not poachers;" and "Indeed, -sir, it was Bold that got away!" exclaimed Victor and I -simultaneously.</p> -<p class="pnext">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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"Immediate! very well, show the gentleman in."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">that</em>), "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----"</p> -<p class="pnext">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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">gentlemanlike</em>, but Victor was naturally -<em class="italics">high bred</em>.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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--<em class="italics">poachers!</em> 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"May I go and see Bold, sir?" said I, summoning up -courage as my late captors quitted the room.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">terra incognita</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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, <em class="italics">entrées</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line">"Men feel by instinct swift as light</div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line">The presence of the foe,</div> -</div> -<div class="line">Whom God has marked in after years</div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line">To strike the mortal blow.</div> -</div> -<div class="line">The other, though his brand be sheathed,</div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line">At banquet or in hall,</div> -</div> -<div class="line">Hath a forebodement of the time</div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line">When one or both must fall."</div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst">So sings "the minstrel" in his poem of <em class="italics">Bothwell</em>, but -<em class="italics">Bothwell</em> 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 <em class="italics">Dr. Fell</em>. Still I felt -somehow from that moment I hated Ropsley; it was -absurd, it was ungrateful, it was ungentlemanlike, but it -was undeniable.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 -<em class="italics">infandum regina</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">penchant</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">Vathek</em>--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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="dulce-domum">CHAPTER XI</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">DULCE DOMUM</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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 <em class="italics">toga virilis</em>, 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 <em class="italics">preux chevalier</em> 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 -<em class="italics">coward!</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"You <em class="italics">can</em> 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 <em class="italics">can</em> 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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, <em class="italics">last</em> -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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">other</em> 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 <em class="italics">penchant</em> 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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 -<em class="italics">Dulce domum</em> 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 <em class="italics">good</em>. 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">was</em> -an usher; "but wherever we meet, I am sure <em class="italics">I</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">Horatius Flaccus</em> and <em class="italics">Virgilius -Maro</em>--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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="alton-grange">CHAPTER XII</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">ALTON GRANGE</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">fauteuils</em>, -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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">then</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"Very well, Vere," answered my father, abstractedly; -"tell them to make it large enough--you grow fast, my -boy."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">do</em> so wish -to know--am I so <em class="italics">very, very</em>--ugly?" I brought out the -hated word with an effort--my father burst out laughing.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="lethalis-arundo">CHAPTER XIII</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">"LETHALIS ARUNDO"</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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 <em class="italics">must</em> 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 <em class="italics">her</em> 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 <em class="italics">her</em>; 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 <em class="italics">her</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">cooollest</em> shot he ever see for so young a gentleman, -and <em class="italics">coool</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 -<em class="italics">tears in her voice</em> as she asked me--</p> -<p class="pnext">"How could I leave him if he was so poorly?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"Then why not call me 'Vere'?" I retorted; but my -voice shook, and I made a miserable attempt to appear -unconcerned.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Very well, 'Constance' and 'Vere' let it be," she -replied, laughing; "and now, Vere, how did you know I -came back yesterday?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"Because I saw the carriage from the top of Buttercup -Hill--because I watched there for six hours that I might -make sure--because----"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">very</em> good-looking, so everybody says, -and <em class="italics">I</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">I</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">cannot</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">her</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="the-picture">CHAPTER XIV</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">THE PICTURE</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">I felt my colour rising at the question, but I looked him -straight in the face, and answered boldly, "At Beverley -Manor, father."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">mésalliance</em>--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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"My boy," he murmured, in a hoarse, broken voice, -"you have been sacrificed. Forgive me, forgive me, my -child; <em class="italics">you are illegitimate</em>." 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; <em class="italics">never, never</em> think of Constance more! -It was all over now; there was nothing left on earth -for me.</p> -<p class="pnext">There is a reaction in the nature of despair. I drew -myself up, and looked my father steadily in the face.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">her</em>, except -Sir Harry Beverley. Vere, your look of misery assures -me that I have told you <em class="italics">too late</em>. 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 <em class="italics">his</em> 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">My father stopped again. He was getting fearfully -haggard, and seemed quite exhausted. He pointed to -the picture which he had just completed.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure" style="width: 63%" id="figure-28"> -<span id="my-father-was-apparently-asleep-page-111"></span><img class="align-center" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" " src="images/img-110.jpg" /> -<div class="caption figure"> -"'My father was apparently asleep...!'" <em class="italics">Page 111</em></div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="beverley-mere">CHAPTER XV</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">BEVERLEY MERE</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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, <em class="italics">robbed</em>--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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">fauteuils</em>, -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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Any news, Ropsley?" says Sir Harry, observing the -pile of letters at his friend's elbow; "no <em class="italics">officials</em>, I hope, -to send you back to London."</p> -<p class="pnext">"None as yet, thank Heaven, Sir Harry," replies his -friend; "and not much in the papers. We shall have -war, I think."</p> -<p class="pnext">"Oh, don't say so, Mr. Ropsley," observes Constance, -with an anxious look. "I trust we shall never see -anything so horrid again."</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">Constance winced and coloured. It was Ropsley's -game to assert a sort of matter-of-course <em class="italics">tendresse</em> 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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">He had now driven her a little too far, and she turned -round upon him.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">Ropsley was, step by step, obtaining great influence -over Sir Harry. He returned to the subject of old -friendships.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">And here he touched his forehead, with a significant -look at Sir Harry.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"What do you mean?" said she, angrily. "Why -should you tremble, as you call it, for Vere?"</p> -<p class="pnext">Ropsley put on his most provoking air, as he answered, -with a sort of playful mock deference--</p> -<p class="pnext">"I beg your pardon, Miss Beverley, I am continually -affronting you, this unlucky morning. First, I bore you -about De Rohan, thinking you <em class="italics">do</em> care for your old friends; -then I make you angry with me about Egerton, believing -you <em class="italics">don't</em>. 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, <em class="italics">sotto voce</em>, to -Sir Harry, "he is as mad as Bedlam now."</p> -<p class="pnext">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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">The island was a pet toy of Sir Harry's; he was pleased, -as usual, with his friend's good taste.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Yes, come over to luncheon, Constance," said he. -"You can manage the boat quite well that short way."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">Constance began to talk very fast to her father.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">The gentlemen put on their belts and shooting apparatus; -and Ropsley, with the sneer deepening on his well-cut -features, whispered to himself, "<em class="italics">Pour le coup, papillon, -je te tiens</em>."</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">so</em> 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 -<em class="italics">battue</em>?--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 -<em class="italics">terra firma</em>, 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!</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">last</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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!</p> -<p class="pnext">"Bold! Bold! Hie, boy; go fetch her; hie, boy; hie!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Hold on, Bold! her dress is floating her still. Hold -on, good dog. Another ten seconds, and she is saved!"</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst white-space-pre-line">* * * * *</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">her</em>--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 "<em class="italics">her</em> brave -Vere!" HERS! She could not unsay that; come what -would, nothing could rob me of <em class="italics">that</em>. "Fortune, do thy -worst," I thought, in my thrill of delight, as I recalled -those words, "I am happy for evermore." Blind! blind! -<em class="italics">Quem Deus vult perdere prius dementat</em>.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="princess-vocqsal">CHAPTER XVI</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">PRINCESS VOCQSAL</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">It was an accommodating <em class="italics">ménage</em>, 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 <em class="italics">her</em> 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 <em class="italics">ménage</em> -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.</p> -<p class="pnext">Prince Vocqsal was the best of fellows, and the most -sporting of Hungarians. Time was, "before the Revolution, -<em class="italics">mon cher</em>"--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 <em class="italics">un -grand succes</em> amongst <em class="italics">ces belles blondes Anglaises</em>, 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 <em class="italics">coup</em>, 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">Added to this he was a thorough <em class="italics">bon vivant</em>, 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"My cousin Rose is rich; she is moreover young and -beautiful; <em class="italics">une femme très distinguée et tant soit peu -coquette</em>. 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">Comtesse Rose had no objection to being Princess -Vocqsal. A thousand flirtations and at least half-a-dozen -<em class="italics">grandes passions</em>, 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 <em class="italics">fauteuil</em> 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?</p> -<p class="pnext">She sits in her own magnificent <em class="italics">salon</em>, 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 <em class="italics">migraine</em>, 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 <em class="italics">that</em>; and she knew his inflexible character too -well to venture on trifling with <em class="italics">him</em>. 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. <em class="italics">That</em> -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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">assisted</em>, -prevented him. He stammered out some excuse about -leaving Paris immediately, and having to make preparations -for departure.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">ours</em>, 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">not</em> come. <em class="italics">Sappramento!</em> there she is!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">chaussures</em>, -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 <em class="italics">feuilleton</em>, 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Les convenances</em>, 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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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----"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="the-common-lot">CHAPTER XVII</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">THE COMMON LOT</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">She laid her hand gently on my arm--</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"No more," I exclaimed, reproachfully, "no more?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">I was stung to madness by her seeming coldness, so -different from my own wild, passionate misery.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Farewell," I said, "farewell, Constance, and for ever."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="omar-pasha">CHAPTER XVIII</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">OMAR PASHA</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Is is true, Mustapha, that <em class="italics">Giaours</em> are still coming to -join our Bey? The Padisha[#] is indeed gracious to these -sons of perdition."</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="left pfirst small">[#] The Sultan.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">"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?"</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="left pfirst small">[#] "Oh my soul!" a colloquial term equivalent to the French "Mon cher."</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">"Magic!" argues the other trooper; "black, unholy -magic! There is but one Allah!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"But you have never seen the letter," urges his comrade, -"though you have ridden a hundred times under the lines."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">As I enter the tent, I perceive two men seated in grave -discussion, whilst a third stands upright in a respectful -attitude. A <em class="italics">chaoosh</em>, 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"But the attack! Excellency; the attack! when will -you let me loose with my cavalry? The attack! -Excellency! the attack!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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</p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line">Grizzled here and there,</div> -</div> -<div class="line">But more with toil than age,</div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst">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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">His Excellency smiles again at Victor, who presents me -in due form, not forgetting to mention my name.</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">Victor was frank and merry as usual, spoke unreservedly -of his <em class="italics">liaison</em> with Princess Vocqsal, and the reasons -which had decided him on seeing a campaign with the -Turkish army against his natural enemies, the Russians.</p> -<p class="pnext">"I like it, <em class="italics">mon cher</em>," 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 <em class="italics">he thought</em>. "There is liberty, there is -excitement, there is the chance of distinction; and above all, -there are <em class="italics">no women</em>. It suits my temperament, <em class="italics">mon cher: -voyez-vous, je suis philosophe</em>. 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--<em class="italics">parbleu!</em> he does it <em class="italics">à merveille</em>; 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, <em class="italics">mon enfant</em>, and <em class="italics">vive la guerre</em>!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Vive la guerre!</em>" 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">I could not have told him the truth to save my life. -Any one but <em class="italics">him</em>, for I always fancied she looked on him -with favouring eyes, so I gave two or three false reasons -instead of the real one.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."[#]</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="left pfirst small">[#] An Interpreter.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Tant mieux</em>," 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Vive la guerre!</em>" 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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!"</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="left pfirst small">[#] The Pearl.</p> -<p class="left pnext small">[#] Destiny.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"What is the strength of the corps to which you belong?"</p> -<p class="pnext">The man answers doggedly, and with his eyes fixed on -the ground, "Twenty thousand bayonets."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"At what distance from the Danube did you leave -your General's head-quarters?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">His eye glitters as he steals a look at the General, whilst -he answers, "Not more than an hour and a half."</p> -<p class="pnext">Again Omar consults his paper, and a gleam passes -over his face like that of a chess-player who has -checkmated his adversary.</p> -<p class="pnext">"One more question," he observes, courteously, "and I -will trouble you no longer. What force of artillery is -attached to your General's <em class="italics">corps d'armée</em>?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">The prisoner's lip quivers nervously, but he shows -extraordinary pluck, and holds himself upright as if on -parade.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">At these words a buzz of satisfaction filled the tent; not -an officer there but was determined to win his way to -distinction <em class="italics">coûte qui coûte</em>. 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Comrade," said he, "order these men to give me five -minutes. We are both soldiers; you shall do me a -favour."</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="left pfirst small">[#] Lieutenant.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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. <em class="italics">Mother</em>," he repeated, in a low, -heartbreaking voice, "could you but see me now!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">He was a gallant man and a good.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.'"</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="skender-bey">CHAPTER XIX</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">"'SKENDER BEY"</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">Iskender Bey is in Paradise. This is what he lives for; -and to-day, he thinks, will see him a pasha or a corpse.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">The Beloochee smiles grimly, and pats his mare on the neck.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"The fools!" whispers Victor; "if they had lined that -copse with riflemen, they might have bothered us sadly as -we advanced."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">sang-froid</em> which -it was easy to see he did not feel.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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. <em class="italics">Vive la guerre!</em>"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">the</em> moment has come.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 -<em class="italics">here</em> 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!'"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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 "<em class="italics">Allah! Allah!</em>" 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">cui bono</em> the sum and the end of -everything? Who knows? And yet it was glorious while -it lasted!</p> -<p class="pnext">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. "<em class="italics">Allah! Allah!</em>" 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 <em class="italics">mêlée</em>. 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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 "<em class="italics">own children</em>"--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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Well done, my children," says he, with the utmost -<em class="italics">sang-froid</em>--"once more like that will be enough."</p> -<p class="pnext">Several of our saddles are emptied, and Iskender begins -to curse.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Dogs!" he shouts, grinding his teeth, and spurring -furiously forward--"dogs! I will be amongst you yet. -Follow me, soldiers! follow me!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst white-space-pre-line">* * * * *</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">In this awkward predicament I happily bethought me -of the Russian prisoner's epistle.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Quarter, comrade! quarter!" I shouted as loudly as -my failing voice would suffer me. "I have a letter from -your officer. Here it is."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"No, Inglis!" I replied, and the man lowered his -weapon once more and assisted me to rise.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">A happy thought struck me. I determined to make an -effort for Ali. "Excellence," I pleaded, "spare him, he is -my servant."</p> -<p class="pnext">The Russian officer paused. "Is he not a Turk?" he -asked, sternly.</p> -<p class="pnext">"No, I swear he is not," I replied. "He is my servant, -and an Englishman."</p> -<p class="pnext">If ever a lie was justifiable, it was on the present -occasion: I trust this <em class="italics">white</em> one may not be laid to my charge.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="the-beloochee">CHAPTER XX</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">THE BELOOCHEE</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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!</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">I felt the Beloochee's wrist press mine with an energy -that must mean something.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Not much," I replied in the same language; "but -sick and faint at times."</p> -<p class="pnext">"Can you roll off your horse, and down the bank on -your left?" he added, hurriedly. "If you can, I can -save you."</p> -<p class="pnext">"Save yourself," I replied; "how can I move a step -with a ball in my ankle-bone?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"Silence!" interposed the Cossack, with a bang over -the Beloochee's shoulders.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Both or none," whispered the latter after a few -seconds' interval, "do exactly as I tell you."</p> -<p class="pnext">"Agreed," I replied, and waited anxiously for the -result.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">Ali rose from the ground. "The knife," he whispered -hoarsely, "the knife!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">I obeyed him with the energy of a man who knows he -has but <em class="italics">one</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Listen," said he; "they are riding back to look -for us. No horse on earth but <em class="italics">one</em> can creep down that -precipice; lie still. If the moon does not come out, we -are saved."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">To all my entreaties he made but one reply, "Bakaloum" -(We shall see), "it is our destiny. There is but -one Allah!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"It is Zuleika," he observed, quietly; "there is but one -Allah!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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, -<em class="italics">jhanum</em>!--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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">men</em> -brave and powerful as <em class="italics">Rustam</em>, but we must look -elsewhere for <em class="italics">horses</em>. 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."</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="left pfirst small">[#] This is a common idea amongst Orientals when they have done -Mecca and seen a greater part of Asia Minor.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"'My brother,' he said, 'Allah has delivered thee into -my hand. Mount, and go with me.'</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="left pfirst small">[#] 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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="zuleika">CHAPTER XXI</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">ZULEIKA</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"'Achmet,' I said, 'let me go in peace; the maiden has -made her choice--she is mine.'</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">her</em>. 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.'</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">she</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"'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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"'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 <em class="italics">give</em> or <em class="italics">sell</em> her to any one.'</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!'</p> -<p class="pnext">"'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.'</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"'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.'</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">arabas</em>, 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 <em class="italics">araba</em>; 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."</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="left pfirst small">[#] About seven miles. The Asiatic always counts space by time, -and an hour is equivalent to something over a league.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">"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.'</p> -<p class="pnext" id="id1">"'It is well,' replied the Pasha; '<em class="italics">Kiātib</em>,' 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!'</p> -<p class="pnext">"'Five thousand piasters, oh my soul!' replied the -Pasha, with his most ferocious grin; 'and all of it <em class="italics">in copper</em>, -too. Mount, in the name of the Prophet, and away!'</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">arabas</em>, -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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">Gazette</em>. 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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="valerie">CHAPTER XXII</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">VALÈRIE</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">sang-froid</em> 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!'</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">but</em> been born a man!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">real</em> 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?</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">sabots</em> 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 <em class="italics">from</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">empressement</em>, 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 <em class="italics">chasse</em>?</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"How can I be otherwise," was my unavoidable reply, -"with so kind a nurse and such good friends as I find here?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"And am I <em class="italics">really</em> useful to you? and do you think that -my care <em class="italics">really</em> 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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">The girl's colour rose, and her eyes sparkled and moistened -at once.</p> -<p class="pnext">"But I have not fought for Hungary," I interposed, -rather bluntly. "I have no claim on your -sympathies--scarcely on your pity."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">hate</em>--I tell you I can hate to some purpose!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">must</em> come at last. -'Hope on, hope ever!' is our motto: a good principle, -Mr. Egerton, is it not?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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, <em class="italics">is it not true</em>?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"Is not <em class="italics">what</em> true?" I asked, from the sofa where I lay, -apathetic and dejected, a strange contrast to my beautiful -companion.</p> -<p class="pnext">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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">She frowned angrily.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 '<em class="italics">right-thinkers</em>' 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 <em class="italics">you</em> 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 <em class="italics">conquered country</em>, 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 <em class="italics">must</em> 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 <em class="italics">merely</em> as a -compliment, <em class="italics">merely</em> 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"Do you mean to say," I asked, somewhat astonished -to find my companion so inveterate a <em class="italics">hater</em>, 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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">She drew herself up, and her voice quite trembled with -anger as she replied--</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">her</em>, 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 <em class="italics">man</em>!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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, -<em class="italics">true</em>, I saw her myself when she returned to prison, and -she still walked, <em class="italics">so</em> nobly, <em class="italics">so</em> 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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">Valèrie's pale face gleamed with delight at my violence.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">café</em>.</p> -<p class="pnext">"'My lads,' he said, 'you are tired and hungry, why do -you not go in and dine?'</p> -<p class="pnext">"'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.'</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">cafê</em>, and summoned the waiter forthwith.</p> -<p class="pnext">"'Do you know,' said he, 'to whom you have just had -the honour of speaking? that venerable old man is Marshal -Haynau.'</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 -<em class="italics">love</em> him! But, alas! I am but a woman, a poor weak -woman; what can I do?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">real</em> 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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="forewarned">CHAPTER XXIII</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">FOREWARNED</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">Vive la chasse!</em> now."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">that</em>, at least, you cold, -unimpassioned mortal."</p> -<p class="pnext">I pointed to my wounded leg, and smiled.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 -<em class="italics">chasse</em> 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 <em class="italics">au revoir</em>."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">chasse</em> 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 <em class="italics">robe de chambre</em>, -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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Only</em> 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; "<em class="italics">only</em> -your father's friend and your own; <em class="italics">only</em> 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">He waxed impatient, and drew his reins rudely from -the woman's grasp.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">there</em>. 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="arcades-ambo">CHAPTER XXIV</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">"ARCADES AMBO"</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">Victor looked reproachfully at her.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">Monsieur le Prince</em>? 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">Victor sighed. "You will never be serious, Rose, for a -minute together."</p> -<p class="pnext">"Serious!" she replied, "no! why should I? Have I -not cause to be merry? I own I might have felt <em class="italics">triste</em> -and cross to-day if I had been disappointed; but you are -come, <em class="italics">mon cher Comte</em>, and everything is <em class="italics">couleur de rose</em>."</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">receive</em> than to <em class="italics">give</em>." 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">Her <em class="italics">femme-de-chambre</em> attributed Madame's <em class="italics">migraine</em> -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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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, "<em class="italics">comme une meess -Anglaise</em>." 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">I broke it at last by remarking "that I should soon be -well now, and must ere long bid adieu to Edeldorf."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"You called me Valèrie just now," said she, quickly.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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, <em class="italics">I</em> shall be lonely, if you like."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="dark-and-dreary">CHAPTER XXV</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">"DARK AND DREARY"</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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 <em class="italics">we</em>" (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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Those bills, I suppose," he observed, nervously; "I -expected as much."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.'"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">nothing</em> -can be done?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">urgent private affairs</em>." 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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"Not yet, Sir Harry," observed Ropsley, quietly; "I -have a plan, if you approve of it, and think it can be -done."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">quid pro -quo</em> in the generous expressions of his associate.</p> -<p class="pnext">Ropsley kept his cold grey eye fixed on him, and -proceeded--"I have already said, I am a 'man of straw,' and -if I <em class="italics">go</em> 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. <em class="italics">Festina lente</em>; I am a reasonable -man, and easily satisfied. You will allow that this is not -your case."</p> -<p class="pnext">Poor Sir Harry could only shuffle uneasily in his chair, -and bow his acquiescence.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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, <em class="italics">how</em> to get at the five thousand? It -will not come out of Somersetshire, I <em class="italics">think</em>?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"And you really do not know which way to turn?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"No more than a child," answered Sir Harry. "If you -fail me, I must give in. If you can help me, and <em class="italics">yourself -too</em>, out of this scrape, why, I shall say what I always -did--that you are the cleverest of fellows and the best of -friends."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"Yes, it shall follow the rest," he repeated, stirring the -fire vigorously, and now looking studiously <em class="italics">away</em> 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">Sir Harry opened his mouth and pushed his chair back -from the fire. Hampered, distressed, ruined as he was, it -<em class="italics">did</em> 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 <em class="italics">like</em> -well enough to marry (for <em class="italics">loving</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">He laughed nervously, and thanked his friend for his -kindness.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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, -<em class="italics">our</em> 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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?</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="surveillance">CHAPTER XXVI</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">"SURVEILLANCE"</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">I did not question my friend as to his success in the -<em class="italics">chasse</em>. 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 <em class="italics">salon</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">He seemed perfectly familiar with English habits and -English politics, professing great admiration for the one -and interest in the other. He had <em class="italics">served</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 -<em class="italics">confidential</em>, his manner so easy and unaffected; there was so -much good-humour and <em class="italics">bonhommie</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 -<em class="italics">ménage</em> 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 <em class="italics">least</em> 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"?</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">pumped</em>. 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 <em class="italics">de trop</em> 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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"Who is this gentleman, Victor, that seems to know a -little of everything and everybody, and whose thirst for -information seems so unquenchable?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">gaucherie</em>, but could not, for the life of me, -discover how or why.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">She looked at me once more with the frank, confiding -look that reminded me so of <em class="italics">another</em>; and putting her -hand in mine, she said--</p> -<p class="pnext">"I know we can trust you; I know <em class="italics">I</em> can trust you. -Victor is <em class="italics">compromised</em>; 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"And Monsieur Stein?" I asked, for I was beginning -to penetrate the mystery.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Is an agent of police," she replied, "and one of the -cleverest in the Emperor's service. Did you remark how -<em class="italics">civil</em> 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, <em class="italics">all things considered</em>, 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">Valèrie laughed.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.'"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">such</em> 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">coquette</em>," -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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">She darted a reproachful look at me from under her -dark eyelashes, but she had her say out notwithstanding.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">I never found Valèrie so charming as when she thus -played the termagant. There was something so <em class="italics">piquante</em> -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 <em class="italics">hated</em>, 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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">me</em>! I tell -you, <em class="italics">you</em> 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 <em class="italics">I</em> 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"What <em class="italics">would</em> you do?" I asked, half amused and half -alarmed at her excited gestures.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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, <em class="italics">distraite</em>, 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, -<em class="italics">anything</em> for excitement and forgetfulness of the -days gone by.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="ghosts-of-the-past">CHAPTER XXVII</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">GHOSTS OF THE PAST</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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 <em class="italics">tout ensemble</em>.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">salon</em> 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, -<em class="italics">bonhommie</em>, 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">heart</em>, 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">chef-d'oeuvre</em> -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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"And that other?" asked Valèrie, with her quick, sharp -glance.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">Valèrie was not listening; her attention was fixed on a -party of strangers at the other end of the room. "<em class="italics">Tenez, -ce sont des Anglais</em>," 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 <em class="italics">her</em>; 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">I have a confused recollection of much hand-shaking -and "How-do-you-do's?" and many expressions of wonder -at our meeting <em class="italics">there</em>, of all places in the world, which did -not strike me as so <em class="italics">very</em> extraordinary after all. And -Valèrie was <em class="italics">so</em> 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">I dared not look in Miss Beverley's face as I shook her -hand; I fancied her voice was <em class="italics">harder</em> than it used to be. -I was sure her manner to <em class="italics">me</em> was as cold as the merest -forms of politeness would admit. She took Victor's arm, -however, with an air of <em class="italics">empressement</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">I put him into his carriage, where <em class="italics">she</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="la-dame-aux-camellias">CHAPTER XXVIII</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">LA DAME AUX CAMELLIAS</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">"My dear, you <em class="italics">must</em> 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 <em class="italics">very cold</em>. "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 <em class="italics">must</em>!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"But a masked ball, papa," urged Constance. "I never -went to one in my life; indeed, if you please, I had rather -not."</p> -<p class="pnext">"Nonsense, child, everybody goes; there's your friend -Countess Valèrie wild about it, and Victor, and even sober -Vere Egerton, but of course <em class="italics">he</em> goes in attendance on the -young Countess--besides, Ropsley wishes it."</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">She looked up at him with her clear, shining eyes, and -replied--</p> -<p class="pnext">"It has, papa, and I quite dread the end of it."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">your</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">She looked him full in the face. Truth shone brightly -in the depths of those clear eyes.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Papa," said she, slowly and steadily, "do you really -mean you wish me to--to marry Captain Ropsley?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"You ladies jump at conclusions very fast," answered -the Baronet, still striving, shakingly, to be jocose. "<em class="italics">Rem -acu tetigisti</em>. 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">She burst into tears</p> -<p class="pnext">"Oh, papa," she said, "anything--anything but this."</p> -<p class="pnext">He thought to try the old sarcastic mood that had done -him good service with many a woman before.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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! <em class="italics">my</em> daughter! the -proud Miss Beverley?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">She did not cry now.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">coquette</em> -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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Vere," she exclaimed, with a sly glance across the -table at her friend, "we are engaged for the first dance, -you know."</p> -<p class="pnext">She always called me "Vere," now, in imitation of her -brother.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Are we?" was my somewhat ungallant reply. "I -was not aware of it, I do not think I shall go to the -ball."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">us</em> what your dress is -to be?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">will</em> go? Ask him, -Miss Beverley; he won't refuse <em class="italics">you</em>, although he is so -ungallant towards <em class="italics">me</em>."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">Dame aux Camellias</em>; 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">The ballet of <em class="italics">Sattinella</em> 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 <em class="italics">diablerie</em>. 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 <em class="italics">corps de ballet</em> arranged in imitation -of statues, in the most fascinating of <em class="italics">poses plastiques</em>, 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">Having once got him, it is understood that she will -never let him go again, and I could not pity him very -sincerely notwithstanding.</p> -<p class="pnext">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. -<em class="italics">De grâce</em>, monsieur will not refuse this <em class="italics">rendezvous</em>."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">migraine</em>, 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. <em class="italics">Adieu</em>--no, <em class="italics">au revoir</em>."</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">now</em>.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="a-merry-masque">CHAPTER XXIX</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">"A MERRY MASQUE"</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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 <em class="italics">incognito</em>, 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">attaché</em>, -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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Mouton gui rêve</em>," said a voice at my elbow, so close -that it made me start.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">rendezvous</em> -which, truth to tell, I had nearly forgotten.</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Mouton gui rêve</em>," 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"Now what <em class="italics">can</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">She laughed in my face. "Do not attempt compliments," -she said, "it is not your <em class="italics">métier</em>. 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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 -<em class="italics">another</em>, whom, after to-night, I had resolved <em class="italics">never, never</em> -to see again.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Not</em> 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 -<em class="italics">rendezvous</em> as I gave you here? who else, with a pretty woman -on his arm (I <em class="italics">am</em> 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">I will not say where I wished <em class="italics">she</em> 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"Implicitly, Madame," was my reply.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">mal-à-propos</em>, 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">en route</em> 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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">My companion's sobs were less violent, but she grasped -the bouquet in her hand till every flower drooped and -withered with the pressure.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"Stop, Vere!" she gasped out wildly; "hush, for -mercy's sake, hush!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"So true," she muttered; "oh, misery, misery! too late."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">She was weeping once more, and wrung my hand -convulsively.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">now</em>."</p> -<p class="pnext">She recovered her self-command with a strong effort, -and pale as death, she spoke steadily on.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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, <em class="italics">dear</em> brother."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Because I am the promised wife of another. Your -friend, Count de Rohan, proposed for me this very day, -and I accepted him."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">Gazette</em>, 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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:--</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">"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 <em class="italics">conquests</em>, 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, <em class="italics">so</em> 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 <em class="italics">you</em>. 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 -<em class="italics">proud</em> 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, <em class="italics">your</em> happiness is -the wish nearest my heart. Consult only <em class="italics">that</em>, 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, <em class="italics">dear</em> -brother, God bless you! and farewell!</p> -<p class="pnext">"Take care of poor Bold."</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="the-golden-horn">CHAPTER XXX</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">THE GOLDEN HORN</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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!</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">à la -Khabyle</em>, 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 <em class="italics">intends</em> 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 <em class="italics">araba</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="left pfirst small">[#] 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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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 <em class="italics">Johnny</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Mr. Manners, I believe? I am afraid you do not -recollect me."</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Major</em> Manners, sir; <em class="italics">Major</em> 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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">I glanced over my friend's dress, and agreed with him -most cordially as to the <em class="italics">alteration</em> 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 <em class="italics">à la guillotine</em>, 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 <em class="italics">tout ensemble</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"I see," said I; "I admire you very much; but what -is it?--the uniform, I mean. Staff corps? Land -Transport? What?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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, <em class="italics">our</em> 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. <em class="italics">My opinion is</em>, -they are the finest cavalry in the world."</p> -<p class="pnext">"And their discipline?" I continued, knowing as I did -something of these wild Asiatics and their predatory and -irregular habits.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">dash</em>. They behave very well in -camp. I have been with them now six weeks, and we -have only had one row yet."</p> -<p class="pnext">"And was that serious?" I asked, anxious to obtain -the benefit of such long experience as my friend's.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="the-seraskerat">CHAPTER XXXI</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">THE SERASKERÂT</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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 <em class="italics">mollah</em> 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 -<em class="italics">yashmaks</em> 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 <em class="italics">know nothing</em>, 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 <em class="italics">does</em> -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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">narghileh</em>, 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">Hakim</em>."</p> -<p class="pnext">A long silence, broken only as before; Omar Pasha, -who does not smoke, waxing impatient, but keeping it -down manfully.</p> -<p class="pnext">The Seraskier at length remarked, without fear of -contradiction, that "his Highness was exceedingly welcome -at Constantinople," and that "God is great."</p> -<p class="pnext">Such self-evident truths scarcely furnished an opening -for further comment, but Omar Pasha saw his opportunity, -and took advantage of it.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">All this I propounded in the florid hyperbole of the East.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">This was undeniable, but hardly conclusive; Omar -Pasha came again to the attack.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">Omar Pasha began to lose patience.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">The Seraskier was driven into a corner, but his -<em class="italics">sang-froid</em> did not desert him for a moment.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">does</em> -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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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?</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">Could I do less than ask after the welfare of Zuleika, -the gallant animal to whom I owed liberty and life?</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">The Beloochee's eyes sparkled at the recollection.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="a-turk-s-harem">CHAPTER XXXII</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">A TURK'S HAREM</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">smothered</em> 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!</p> -<p class="pnext">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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">There was but one thing to be done, and that quickly. -"<em class="italics">Hakim!</em>" 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">man</em>, within the sacred and forbidden -precincts.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">Hakim</em> -I owed my present immunity and my entrance into that -sanctum of a Turk's house, which it is considered -indecorous even to <em class="italics">mention</em> in conversation with its master.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">yashmak</em>, 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">arabas</em> -to take her abroad, and furnishes her with plenty of -pin-money to spend in the delightful occupation of shopping.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="my-patient">CHAPTER XXXIII</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">MY PATIENT</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">"With the blessing of Allah! rub the palms of her hands -with saffron!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"Allah-Illah! Allah-Illah!--tickle the soles of her feet -with feathers!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"It is destiny! In the name of the Prophet pour cold -water down her back!" "Room for the Frankish <em class="italics">Hakim</em>!" -"May dogs defile the grave of the Giaour!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 -<em class="italics">yashmak</em> from Zuleika's face, and exclaimed in tones which -admitted of no dispute--</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="left pfirst small">[#] 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 <em class="italics">yashmak</em>, she -immediately claps her hand to her lips, and so remains till the male -stranger has passed by.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">"Bring otto of roses to anoint our dove; strip her at -once from head to foot; and kick the Giaour downstairs!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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 "<em class="italics">Oh, Susannah!</em>" -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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">woman</em>; 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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!'"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">kiâtib</em>, 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"[#]</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="left pfirst small">[#] The ambassador.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 "<em class="italics">noli me -tangere</em>" expression, that forbade the slightest approach -to familiarity.</p> -<p class="pnext">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:--</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Then the breeze blew, and the waters laughed and -rippled, and the birds sang, and the blossoms fell.</p> -<p class="pnext">"So the angels smiled, and said, Praise be to Allah. -It is very good--Allah! Bismillah!</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Then Allah took clay, and moistened it, and fashioned -it till the sun went down.</p> -<p class="pnext">"And Allah rested from his work, and left it in the -Garden of Eden, by the Great Tree, where the Four -Rivers spring.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"And Shaitán came to walk in the garden, to cool his -brow, and he stopped over against Gabriel and mocked.</p> -<p class="pnext">"And Shaitán said, 'What is this, that I may know it, -and name it, and claim my share in it for my own?'</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!'</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!'</p> -<p class="pnext">"And in the morning there was silence in Eden, for the -work of Allah had been defiled.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"'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.'</p> -<p class="pnext">"And Shaitán cowered behind the Great Tree and -listened to the voice of Allah, and though he trembled, he -smiled.</p> -<p class="pnext">"For Shaitán knew that he would have his share in -the Man as in the beast."</p> -<p class="pnext">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 "<em class="italics">baksheesh</em>," 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="messirie-s">CHAPTER XXXIV</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">"MESSIRIE'S"</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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 <em class="italics">hamauls</em>[#] 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 -"<em class="italics">Johnny</em>."</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="left pfirst small">[#] Porters.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">habitués</em> of the place, being actually as -fresh from London as yonder copy of <em class="italics">The Times</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">It was indeed Ropsley,--Ropsley the Guardsman--Ropsley -the dandy, but how altered! The attenuated -<em class="italics">roué</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">can't get in</em>!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"And the Mamelon?" said I, eager for the last news -from the spot to which millions of hearts were reaching, -all athirst for hope.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">ci-devant</em> dandy patted -me on the back, and pushed me before him into the -well-lighted and now crowded <em class="italics">salon</em>.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">table d'hôte</em> -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 <em class="italics">countrywoman's</em>, -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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">attaché</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">cuisine</em>; 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">They bring him a dish of hare, large of limb and -venerable in point of years. Our Bashi-Bazouk exclaims -indignantly, "<em class="italics">Qu'est que ça?</em>"</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">C'est un lièvre, M'sieur</em>," replies the waiter, with a -forced smile, as of one who expects a jest he will not -comprehend.</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">C'est un chat!</em>" gasps out Manners, glaring indignantly -on the official.</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Pardon, M'sieur,</em>" says the waiter, "<em class="italics">c'est trop gros pour -un chat.</em>"</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Chat</em>," repeats Manners; "<em class="italics">Chat</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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--</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="left pfirst small">[#] An act empowering foreigners to hold land in Turkey.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">"<em class="italics">Pourri, voyez-vous, mon cher. Crac! ça ne durera pas -trois ans.</em>"</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">élan</em>, 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">Mamelon Vert</em>. -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--<em class="italics">me!</em>--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!--<em class="italics">Pflan!</em>--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 '<em class="italics">four mornings</em>,' 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! -<em class="italics">Qui vivra, verra</em>."</p> -<p class="pnext">It is all <em class="italics">pipe-clay</em>, 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 <em class="italics">pros</em> -and <em class="italics">cons</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">that</em> man lost his head?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">brick</em>. But why didn't he bring us out? -I never saw him after I was hit, and I <em class="italics">must</em> 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 <em class="italics">you</em> see him, and what was -he doing?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"I <em class="italics">did</em>, 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 <em class="italics">like him</em>, 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 <em class="italics">lead</em>, and he kept it right well, -and I won't hear him run down."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"I <em class="italics">admit</em> 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"On our left," interposes the younger man--"on our -left; for I remember poor Blades was knocked over -between me and him."</p> -<p class="pnext">"On our <em class="italics">right</em>," persists the other. "I am certain of it, -my dear fellow, for I remarked at the time----"</p> -<p class="pnext">"I am positive he was on our left! I remember it as -well as if it was yesterday."</p> -<p class="pnext">"I could take my oath he was on our right; for I -recollect seeing his sabretasche swinging."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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, <em class="italics">nulli penetrabilis -astro</em>? 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 <em class="italics">was</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">me</em>. As friends -of mine you would be most welcome. You speak French, -Ropsley, if I remember right?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"A little," replied the latter, much amused, "but <em class="italics">not</em> -with <em class="italics">your accent</em>;" 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"What! ladies and all, at these <em class="italics">select</em> parties?" laughed -Ropsley. "I thought we were going amongst a lot of -duchesses: but I hope they don't drink as well?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 -<em class="italics">entrée</em> 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 <em class="italics">élite</em> of Pera -society.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Go home, Bold, go home." The old dog <em class="italics">would</em> accompany -me out of the hotel, <em class="italics">would</em> 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 <em class="italics">hamaul</em>, -crouched near the sentry-box. Savage Bold wanted to fly -at it as he passed.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">real business</em>. -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 -<em class="italics">here</em>, make nine. If the gate is only unlocked, we can -carry the place by storm."</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="the-wolf-and-the-lamb">CHAPTER XXXV.</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">"THE WOLF AND THE LAMB."</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">Papoosh Pasha is taking his <em class="italics">kief</em>[#] 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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="left pfirst small">[#] Repose.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">Two <em class="italics">nautch-girls</em> 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 "<em class="italics">Peki</em>" (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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">green</em> 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 <em class="italics">henna</em>, -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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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!</p> -<p class="pnext">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:--</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst">Down in the valley where the Sweet-Waters meet--where the -Sweet-Waters meet under the chestnut trees,--</p> -<p class="noindent pnext">There Hamed had a garden; and the wild bird sang to the Rose.</p> -<p class="noindent pnext">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.</p> -<p class="noindent pnext">And Hamed watered the tree and pruned her, and lay down in the -cool freshness of her shade.</p> -<p class="noindent pnext">Beautiful was the pomegranate, yet the wild bird sang to the Rose.</p> -<p class="noindent pnext">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.</p> -<p class="noindent pnext">For the Lily was the fairest of flowers; yet the wild bird sang to the -Rose.</p> -<p class="noindent pnext">Then there came a blast from the desert, and the garden of Hamed -was scorched and withered up;</p> -<p class="noindent pnext">And the pomegranate sickened and died; and Hamed cut her down -by the roots, and sowed corn over the place of her shade.</p> -<p class="noindent pnext">And the breeze swept on, and stayed not, though the Lily lay -trampled into the earth.</p> -<p class="noindent pnext">Every flower sickened and died; yet the wild bird sang to the Rose.</p> -<p class="noindent pnext">In the dawn of early morning, when the sky is green with longing, -and the day is at hand,</p> -<p class="noindent pnext">When the winds are hushed, and the waters sleep smiling, and the -stars are dim in the sky:</p> -<p class="noindent pnext">When she pines for his coming, and spreads her petals to meet him, -and droops to hear his note;</p> -<p class="noindent pnext">When the garden gate is open, and the watchers are asleep, and the -last, <em class="italics">last</em> hope is dying,--will the wild bird come to the Rose?</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">pilaff</em>. 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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, <em class="italics">last</em> -hope is dying, and the wild bird is not coming to the rose."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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. <em class="italics">Allah Kerim</em>!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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!</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">Ali opened his eyes, and raising his head, looked around -as though in search of some missing face.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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!</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="the-front">CHAPTER XXXVI</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">"THE FRONT"</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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 <em class="italics">must</em> 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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">fifth</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">them</em> 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? <em class="italics">Vestigia nulla retrorsum</em>. 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 <em class="italics">towards</em> 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 <em class="italics">Gazette</em> arrived at last and -proclaimed, as too surely it would, that he was coming back -"never, never no more."</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">real thing</em> 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 <em class="italics">death</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Another sortie! No end of fellows killed; and <em class="italics">they -say</em> the Malakhoff is blown up."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">provincial</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">Bell's Life</em>! 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</p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line">Into the valley of death</div> -<div class="line">Rode the six hundred!</div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst">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, "<em class="italics">C'est magnifique!</em>" -although he added, significantly, "<em class="italics">mais ce n'est pas la -guerre.</em>" The latter part of his observation is a subject -for discussion, but of the former there is and there can be -but one opinion. <em class="italics">Magnifique</em> 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.</p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line">Groom fought like noble, squire like knight,</div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line">As fearlessly and well.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst">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--<em class="italics">in front</em>--"<em class="italics">Noblesse oblige</em>" and -can he be otherwise than gallant and chivalrous and -devoted, for is he not a <em class="italics">gentleman?</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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!</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure" style="width: 63%" id="figure-29"> -<span id="the-batteries-are-reached-and-carried"></span><img class="align-center" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" " src="images/img-316.jpg" /> -<div class="caption figure"> -"The batteries are reached and carried. <em class="italics">The Interpreter</em> <em class="italics">Page 317</em></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst white-space-pre-line">* * * * *</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">very</em> 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!</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">should</em> have got if our dragoons were not the only -cavalry in the world that will <em class="italics">ride straight</em>!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Not whist</em>, my dear fellow," replied my less enthusiastic -friend; "that is not the way to <em class="italics">play the game</em>, 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 <em class="italics">once</em>;' 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 <em class="italics">come</em> again all -the better. Never <em class="italics">waste</em> 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 <em class="italics">outside</em>, though, Egerton; I sometimes think we -shall <em class="italics">never</em> 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 <em class="italics">coup de main</em>, -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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 -<em class="italics">ci-devant</em> London dandy.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">something up</em> 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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"Were you in the advanced trenches?" inquired -Ropsley, stopping our young friend's gastronomic -recollections; "and did you see poor ---- killed?"</p> -<p class="pnext">The lad's face fell in an instant; it was with a saddened -and altered voice that he replied--</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="a-quiet-night">CHAPTER XXXVII</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">"A QUIET NIGHT"</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">There are no troops who are so little liable to panic--whose -<em class="italics">morale</em>, 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:--</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">The man reflected an instant, and seemed satisfied. -"Well, Colonel," he said, "we <em class="italics">knows you</em>, and we <em class="italics">trusts</em> -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 <em class="italics">us</em> 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 <em class="italics">we</em>, 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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"And what," said the Colonel, utterly aghast at this -unheard-of proposal, "what----"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">wasn't the first -lads in!</em>"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">véritable rouge</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">The officers have established a sort of head-quarters as -a <em class="italics">place d'armes</em>, 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">The engineer laughed, and unbuckled his sabre.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Hold on, my lads," he says, leaping breathlessly into -the trench; "I've had a precious good run for it. Where's -the Colonel?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">quiet</em> -night in the trenches."</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="the-grotto">CHAPTER XXXVIII</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">THE GROTTO</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">It is not <em class="italics">all</em> 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 <em class="italics">cook</em> a dinner <em class="italics">when</em> he has filched it, which -is more than can be said for our own gallant countrymen.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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, <em class="italics">their</em> ears are deaf to the -shout of victory, <em class="italics">their</em> laurel wreaths shall hang vacant -and unworn, for they shall rise to claim them no more.</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"I think we are all here now," says the host; -"Monsieur le Général, shall we go to dinner?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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 "<em class="italics">Now</em>, my lads!" which means so much.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 -<em class="italics">ancien régime</em>, 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 <em class="italics">entente cordiale</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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. '<em class="italics">Mon Colonel</em>,' said he, with -a most ceremonious bow,' to-morrow is your <em class="italics">jour de fête</em>--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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">ordonnance</em>, 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.'</p> -<p class="pnext">"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. '<em class="italics">Mon Colonel</em>,' 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 <em class="italics">ce malheureux Bobouton</em>.' 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">sang-froid</em>. -Why do you not establish <em class="italics">your</em> Algeria at the Cape?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">Le Times</em>; now I understand -perfectly. We manage these matters better with us. -<em class="italics">Peste!</em> if we go to war, there it is. We employ our -<em class="italics">Gazettes</em> to celebrate our victories. Your health, <em class="italics">mon -Général</em>; 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 -<em class="italics">blonde</em> in the kitchen. '<em class="italics">A la guerre, comme à la guerre, -n'est ce pas, mon Général?</em>'"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="the-redan">CHAPTER XXXIX</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">THE REDAN</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">bon camarade</em>, 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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"Vere, I've a favour to ask you--if I should be <em class="italics">hit</em> -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."</p> -<p class="pnext">I pressed his hand in answer, and I thought his voice -was hoarser as he resumed.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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--<em class="italics">can</em> you forgive me?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">sang-froid</em> 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 <em class="italics">lead the assault</em>.</p> -<p class="pnext">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!</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">must</em> surely happen on -that fire-swept glacis, unless he bore indeed a life charmed -with immunity from shot and steel.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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, -<em class="italics">décoré</em> 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. -"<em class="italics">Ma foi</em>," says he, "<em class="italics">c'est pour encourager les autres!</em>" The -southern blood boils up under the influence of example, -and if French troops are once a little flushed with success, -their <em class="italics">élan</em>, 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, "<em class="italics">Tenez! voilà mon bâton de Maréchal!</em>"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">The men are formed for the assault, and the word is -given to advance.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Now, my lads," says the leader, "keep cool--keep -steady--and keep together--we'll do it handsomely when -we're about it. Forward!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">sang-froid</em> totally -unmoved when standing with <em class="italics">his back</em> 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 <em class="italics">front</em> 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 <em class="italics">must</em> be crossed in defiance of everything.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Steady, men," he observes once more, as he forms them -for the desperate effort; "we'll have them <em class="italics">out of that</em> in -ten minutes. Now, my lads! Forward, and follow me!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 "<em class="italics">water! water!</em>" -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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"Do I seem to be in a <em class="italics">funk</em>, young man?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"No," replies the young officer, determined not to be -outdone, "not the least bit of one, any more than myself."</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">I was afraid</em>."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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?</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">she</em> 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, <em class="italics">very</em> sorry for -poor Bold.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="the-war-minister-at-home">CHAPTER XL</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">THE WAR-MINISTER AT HOME</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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 <em class="italics">attaché</em> deciphers and makes his <em class="italics">précis</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">soubrette</em> who is peeping on tiptoe -over your shoulder, and expressing her artless admiration -of your talent in the superlative exclamations of her -Teutonic idiom?</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">soubrette</em> strangely like Jeannette, Princess -Vocqsal's <em class="italics">femme de chambre</em>; 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">Monsieur Stein pockets the epistle--it might be a -receipt for <em class="italics">sour-krout</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">schwartz-bier</em>, 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 "<em class="italics">odious -intrigante</em>," as Madame la Baronne calls her, the Princess -Vocqsal.</p> -<p class="pnext">She is as much at home here in the War-Minister's -apartments as in her own drawing-room. She never loses -her <em class="italics">aplomb</em>, 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 <em class="italics">down</em>, the female fencer -never takes the button off her foil.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">do</em>, to please <em class="italics">me</em>."</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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 -<em class="italics">schwartz-bier</em>, 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 <em class="italics">Huissier</em> at the entrance, muttered, -"Sixty thousand men--then it <em class="italics">will</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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--<em class="italics">now</em> it is so different. <em class="italics">Sapperment</em>! Here -she comes!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">à l'Impératrice</em>.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="wheels-within-wheels">CHAPTER XLI</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">WHEELS WITHIN WHEELS</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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, <em class="italics">there</em> 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 <em class="italics">salon</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">pros</em> and -<em class="italics">cons</em> 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, <em class="italics">the sooner -they hang him the better!</em>" This ill-advised remark, be it -observed, was made <em class="italics">sotto voce</em>, 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">I am happy to be able to observe, <em class="italics">en passant</em>, 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">do</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">bourgeois</em> -gathering, no assemblage of the middle rank, tainted by -mercantile enterprise, or disgraced by talent, which -presumes to rise superior to <em class="italics">blood</em>. No such thing; they are -all the "<em class="italics">haute volée</em>" here, the "<em class="italics">crème de la crème</em>," 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 <em class="italics">chef d'oeuvres</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">her</em> 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, "<em class="italics">Kismet</em>! It is -destiny!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">her</em>. -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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">Monsieur Stein looked at women with hypercritical -fastidiousness, but, as he himself boasted, at the same -time, quite "<em class="italics">en philosophe</em>."</p> -<p class="pnext">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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">Unless it leads to a <em class="italics">revoke</em>, a lie counts for nothing with -a police-agent, so he answered at once, "Sent to my <em class="italics">bureau</em> -from the office, in consequence of an informality in the -post-mark."</p> -<p class="pnext">"You have read it?" pursued the Princess, still calm -and unmoved.</p> -<p class="pnext">"On my honour, no!" answered he, with his hand on -his heart, and a low bow.</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"You are still desirous of that appointment we spoke -of yesterday for the Prince?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Ma foi</em>, I am," she answered, with a merry smile; -"without it we shall be ruined, for we are indeed -overwhelmed with debt."</p> -<p class="pnext">"You also wish for the earliest intelligence possessed -by the Government as to the issues of peace and war?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"Of course I do, my dear Monsieur Stein; how else -can I speculate to advantage?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"And you would have the attainder taken off your -cousin's estates in the Banat in your favour?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">C'est un trahison, n'est ce pas?</em>" 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">She was fitting her glove accurately to her taper fingers.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"<em class="italics">Soit</em>," 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">In the meantime Victor was getting very restless, very -uncomfortable, and, not to mince matters, very cross.</p> -<p class="pnext">No sooner had the Princess returned to the large <em class="italics">salon</em> -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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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--"<em class="italics">Un de mes anciens amis</em>," was a vague and general -description, calculated to give no very definite or satisfactory -information to a rival.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">She looked lovingly up at him, and he softened at once.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Now it is <em class="italics">you</em> 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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"Did you know I should be in Vienna so soon?" he -exclaimed eagerly. "Did you receive my letter?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">congé</em>. Pardon, Madame la Princesse, I -need not receive it twice. I wish you good-evening; I am -going now!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">attachés</em>--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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">see</em> a thing he requires to <em class="italics">look at it</em>. -Not so with the other sex. Their subtler instinct enables -them to detect that which must be made palpable to <em class="italics">our</em> -grosser senses. How else could Princess Vocqsal, whose -back was turned to him, and who was occupied in -conversation with the <em class="italics">élite</em> 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?</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">dared</em> not face such an ordeal -again.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"That's a clever woman," said an English <em class="italics">attaché</em> to his -friend, as they listened in the circle of her admirers.</p> -<p class="pnext">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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">that's</em> -her number, Charlie, you may take my word for it!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">For a moment he thinks that were he capable of human -weaknesses he could <em class="italics">love</em> 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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"Sebastopol has fallen," she repeats with her silver -laugh; "then the war has at last really begun!"</p> -<p class="pnext">Her audience applaud once more. "<em class="italics">Ma foi, ce n'est pas -mal</em>," 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 -<em class="italics">attaché</em> of the French Legation.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">He relents at once. What <em class="italics">is</em> 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,--<em class="italics">such</em> -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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Will you continue to <em class="italics">bouder</em> 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 <em class="italics">jour de fête</em>. 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, <em class="italics">mon ami, au revoir</em>!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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 -<em class="italics">coquetterie</em> 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! "<em class="italics">this is</em> also vanity -and vexation of spirit."</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="too-late">CHAPTER XLII</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">"TOO LATE"</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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, <em class="italics">en route</em> for England on sick -leave.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">real</em> 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 -<em class="italics">won!</em> 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 <em class="italics">devoir</em>, -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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">We talked of Hungary. I loved to talk of it now, for -was it not <em class="italics">her</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"I hope so," I replied quietly, for what had I but that?</p> -<p class="pnext">"Yes," he resumed, "but I don't mean conventionally, -because your godfathers and godmothers at your baptism -said you were--I mean <em class="italics">really</em>. I don't believe there is a -particle of <em class="italics">humbug</em> about you. Can you forgive your -enemies?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">I felt I was trembling all over; I covered my face with -my hands and turned away, but I bade him go on.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">I looked him straight in the face--"Not a word of <em class="italics">her</em>, -Ropsley, as you are a gentleman!" I said. Oh, the agony -of that moment! and yet it was not all pain.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">you</em>, -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. <em class="italics">Remorse</em>," 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 <em class="italics">repent</em> of what he has done, he had better -not <em class="italics">do it</em>. My maxim has always been, 'never look -back,'--'<em class="italics">vestigia, nulla retrorsum</em>'--and yet to-day I -cannot help retracing, ay, and bitterly <em class="italics">regretting</em>, the -past.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">hated</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">Ropsley blushed scarlet as he mentioned that name.</p> -<p class="pnext">"And it was not my part to conceal the surmise from -Miss Beverley. 'She was <em class="italics">so</em> glad, she was <em class="italics">so</em> thankful,' -she said, 'she was <em class="italics">so</em> 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 <em class="italics">mariage de convenance</em>, 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 <em class="italics">one</em> for whose sake I would -fain get well--<em class="italics">one</em> whom I <em class="italics">must</em> see yet again before I -die."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">must</em> go through -Hungary, and stop at Edeldorf on my way to England!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">her</em> 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 <em class="italics">must</em> 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">ci-devant</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">muscle</em>," 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="the-skeleton">CHAPTER XLIII</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">"THE SKELETON"</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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 <em class="italics">not</em> 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 <em class="italics">may</em> change, or those who -hope it <em class="italics">will</em>? 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, -<em class="italics">Sine pulvere palma</em>.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">She was altered, too; so much altered, and yet it was -the well-known face, <em class="italics">her</em> 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 <em class="italics">sure</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">perdrix aux -champignons</em> is or is not a better thing than <em class="italics">dindon aux truffes</em>? -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?</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">told -her not</em>, certainly Madame la Princesse is taking unusual -pains, and that most unnecessarily, to bring Victor into -more than common subjection to her fascinations.</p> -<p class="pnext">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!</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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, <em class="italics">mon gaillard</em>," -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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">vis-à-vis</em> 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 <em class="italics">chasse</em>. 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 -'<em class="italics">The Box</em>' 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."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">Slow torture! but never mind, it is but for to-night--this -experiment must never be repeated. Go on, Countess -Valèrie, happy, unconscious executioner.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Come and play the march in 'The Honijàdy,'" said -Ropsley, leading his <em class="italics">fiancée</em> gaily off to the pianoforte. -"<em class="italics">On revient toujours à ses premiers amours</em>, 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Not <em class="italics">that</em>," 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">she</em>, 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 <em class="italics">loved</em> her, I could have rejoiced -in her welfare, and forgotten <em class="italics">myself</em> 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 <em class="italics">curse</em> you from my -soul!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">liaison</em> with the Princess, could I but obtain <em class="italics">a -right</em> to speak to him on the subject! I would make him -one last appeal that should <em class="italics">force</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">a gentleman</em>; 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Anything but <em class="italics">that</em>, 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 <em class="italics">now</em>; but, as you have a woman's heart, ask me -for anything but <em class="italics">that</em>."</p> -<p class="pnext">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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"Give it me, Victor, <em class="italics">dear</em> Victor! you have never -refused me anything since I have known you."</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">deserved</em> 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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Victor," she said, "it is for <em class="italics">my</em> sake."</p> -<p class="pnext">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!</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">She was weeping now--weeping convulsively, with her -face buried in her hands; but he heeded it not, and went -on--</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">you</em>?"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">chasse</em> 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 <em class="italics">last</em> present I shall give you--make the -most of it."</p> -<p class="pnext">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!</p> -<p class="pnext">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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">He looked startled, scared, almost as if he could not -understand her; he shook in every limb, whilst she was -composed and even dignified.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">nothing</em>. Victor de Rohan! when I leave -Edeldorf, I leave it with you, and with you I remain for -ever."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">chasse</em> is over." And I went to bed with -a heavy, aching heart.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="the-gipsy-s-dream">CHAPTER XLIV</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">THE GIPSY'S DREAM</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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. <em class="italics">You</em> are an aristocrat, and you shall keep her -company!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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!</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">never</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"The Count! the Count!" gasps out the breathless -Zingynie, "is he at the Castle? can I see Count Victor?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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."</p> -<p class="pnext">All hussars are connoisseurs in beauty.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">"To the Waldenberg!" answered the hussar, taking the -flask (empty) from his lips; but even while he spoke she -was gone.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="retribution">CHAPTER XLV</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">RETRIBUTION</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">really</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">you</em>, 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 <em class="italics">must</em> come to one of us. I -expect a famous day's sport, if we manage it well. I used -to say '<em class="italics">Vive la guerre</em>,' Vere--don't you remember?--but -it's '<em class="italics">Vive la chasse</em>' now, and has been for a long time -with me."</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">himself</em> -now."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?"</p> -<p class="pnext">"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 <em class="italics">coup</em>.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"Here I am, Victor," he shouted once more, "established -<em class="italics">en factionnaire</em>. Don't shoot point-blank this way, and -keep perfectly quiet after you hear the action has -commenced."</p> -<p class="pnext">Victor laughingly promised compliance, and Ropsley and -I betook ourselves, with all the haste we could make, to -our respective posts.</p> -<p class="pnext">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--</p> -<p class="pnext">"Vere, what's the matter with De Rohan? There's -something very queer about him to-day; have you not -observed it."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">something</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure" style="width: 63%" id="figure-30"> -<span id="i-might-have-known-there-was-no-hope"></span><img class="align-center" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt=" " src="images/img-418.jpg" /> -<div class="caption figure"> -"I might have known there was no hope. <em class="italics">The Interpreter</em> <em class="italics">Page 418</em></div> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="vae-victis">CHAPTER XLVI</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">VÆ VICTIS!</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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 <em class="italics">triste</em>, 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">"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?</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">realities</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 <em class="italics">him</em>. 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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 "<em class="italics">Hic -Jacet</em>" 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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!"</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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?</p> -<p class="pnext">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!</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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"?</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center large pfirst" id="the-return-of-spring">CHAPTER XLVII</p> -<p class="center medium pnext">THE RETURN OF SPRING</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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 <em class="italics">really</em> 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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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!</p> -<p class="pnext">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."</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst white-space-pre-line">* * * * *</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">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.</p> -<p class="pnext">And I awoke, and prayed that it might not be all a -dream.</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center medium pfirst">THE END</p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst small"><em class="italics">Richard Clay & Sons, Limited, London & Bungay.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="backmatter"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst" id="pg-end-line">*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK <span>THE INTERPRETER</span> ***</p> -<div class="cleardoublepage"> -</div> -<div class="language-en level-2 pgfooter section" id="a-word-from-project-gutenberg" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<span id="pg-footer"></span><h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title">A Word from Project Gutenberg</h2> -<p class="pfirst">We will update this book if we find any errors.</p> -<p class="pnext">This book can be found under: <a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/40660"><span>http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/40660</span></a></p> -<p class="pnext">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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