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No. 337. NEW SEEIES SATURDAY, MAY 15,

carpetless floor, and, with a stert, he A CHARMING FELLOW. turned his head and looked around him. BY FRANOBS BLBANOR TROLLOPB. By contrast with the wintry light with­

ATTTHOR or " ADKT MABOASET'S TBOUBLK," " ICABEL'S out, the garret appeared quite dark to PKoaRESs," be. bo. him, and it was not untU after a few seconds that his eye became sufl&ciently CHAPTER XIV. accustomed to its gloom, to perceive the DAVID POWELL sat in his garret chamber. book lying almost at his feet. He picked The fast-waning light of a February after­ it up, and began to chafe his numbed noon feU on him, as he sat close to the fingers, rising at the same time, and lattice in the sloping roof. He had placed walking up and down the room. himself there to be able to read the small His thoughts had been straying idly, as priut of his pocket-bible. But the light he sat at the window, with his eyes fixed was already too dim for that. It was on the sky. They had gone back to the dusk in the garret. Th& strip of grey days of his boyhood, and in memory he cloud, visible from the window, was had seen the wild Welsh valley where he beginning to turn red at its lower edge was born, and heard the bleat of sheep as the sun sank. It was the angry flaring from the hills, as he had listened to it red, which is often seen at the close of a many a summer morning, sitting ragged cold and cloudy day, and had no sug­ and barefoot on the turf. And with these gestion of genial warmth in ite deep recoUections the image of Rhoda Maxfield flush. Such a snow-laden, crimson-bor­ was strangely mingled, appearing and dis­ I dered wrack of fleecy cloud, as PoweU's appearing, like a face in a dream. Indeed, eyes rested on, might have hung over he had been dreaming open-eyed in his a Lapland waste. There was no fire in solitude, unconscious of the cold and the the room, nor any means of making one. gathering dusk. It was bitterly- cold. The preacher's face Now such aimless, vagrant wanderings looked white and bloodless, as if it were of the fancy were considered reprehen­ frozen. But he sat stUl, staring out at sible by earnest Methodiste; and by none the red sunset light on the strip of sky Were they more strongly disapproved of within his view. From his seat on an old than by David Powell himself. His life chest, which he had drawn close under was guided, as nearly as might be, in con­ the window, he could see nothing but the formity with the rules laid down by John sky. Not one of the roofs or chimneys of Wesley himself for the helpere, as hia first Whitford was visible to him. A black lay-preachers were called. And among wavering line moved slowly across his these rules, dUigence — unflagging, un­ ^ field of vision. It was a flight of rooks faltering dUigence — and the strenuous on their way home to the teU leafless employment of every minute, so that no elm-trees in Pudcombe-park. Nothing fragment of time should be wasted, were else moved, except the red flare creeping emphatically insisted upon. Powell had upward by slow and imperceptible degrees. ceased to read when the dayhght waned, Suddenly the little bible feU from and remained in his place by the window, Powell's numbed right hand on to the intending to devote a few minutes of the X =4 146 [May 15,1876.1 ALL THE YEAR ROUND. [Conducted by

twilight to the rigid self-examination narrow staircase. *' B at there ! he is a which was his dt^y habit. And instead, select vessel, if ever there was one; and behold! his mind had strayed and wandered a burning and a shining light. And I in idle recollections and unsanctified ima­ suppose the Lord will teke care of His ginings. own, in His own way." Presently he began to mutter to himself, Mrs. Thimbleby sat down by her clean- as he paced up and down the chUl bare room. swept hearth, in which a small fire was " What have I to do with these things," burning brightly. The little kitchen was he said aloud, " when I should be about wonderfully clean. Not a speck of rust my Master's business ? Where is the marked the bright pewter and tin vessels, eomforteble assurance of old days—the that hung over the dresser. Not an atom of bright light which used to shine within dust lay on any visible object in the place. "my soxU, turning ite darkness to noon­ There was no sound to be heard save the day ? I have lost my first love; * I have ticking of the old eight-day clock, and, fallen from grace; and the enemy finds a now 'and then, the dropping of a coal on ready ientrance for any idle thoughte he to the hearth. As soon as she heard her wills to put into my mind. And yet— lodger's step on the steirs, Mrs. Thimbleby have I not striven ? Have I not searched bestirred herself to pour out the herb tea my own heart with sincerity ? " of which she had spoken. AU at once, stopping short in his walk " I wish it was China tea, Mr. Powell," across the garret floor, he threw himself she said, when he entered the kitchen. on his knees beside the bed, and, burying " But you won't take that, so I know it's his face in his hands, began to pray aloud. no good to offer it to you. Else I have a The sound of his own voice rising ever cup here as is reaUy good, and came out higher, as his supplications grew more of my new lodger's pot." fervent, hid from his ears the noise of " You do not surely take of what is not a tep at the door, which was repeated your own ! " cried PoweU, looking quickly twice or thrice. At length, the person round at her. who had knocked, pushed the door gently " Lord forbid, sir! No, but the gentle­ open a little way, and called him by his man drinks a sight of tea. And last name, "Mr. Powell! Mr. PoweU! " evening he would have some fresh made, " Who caUs me ? " asked the preacher, and I say to him"—Mrs. Thimbleby's lifting his head, but not rising at once narrative style was chiefly remarkable for from his knees. its simplification of the English syntax, " It's me,'sir; Mrs. Thimbleby. I have by means of omitting all past tenses, and made you a cup of herb tea accordin' to thus getting rid of any difficulty attendant the directions in the Primitive Physic, f on the conjugation of irregular verbs—" I and there is a handful of fire in the say, ' Won't you have none of that last as kitehen grate, whilst here it is downright was made for breakfast, as is beautiful tea, freezing. Dear, dear Mr. PoweU, I can't and only wants warming up again ?' But think it right for you to set for hours up he refuse; and then I ask him if I may . here by yourself in the cold! " use it myself, seeing I look on it as a sin The good widow—a gentle, loquacious to wasto anything; and he only just look woman, with mild eyes and a humble up from his book, and nod his head, and manner—-had advanced into the room by say, * Do what you like with it, ma'am,' and this time, and stood holdiiig up a lighted wave his hand as much as to say I may candle in one hand, whUst with the other go. He is not much of a one to talk, hut she drew her scanty black shawl closer he paid the first week punctual, and is as round her shouldere. quiet as quiet, and—there he is! I hear "I wiU come, Mrs. Thimbleby," an­ his key in the door." swered PoweU. " Do you go downstaira, A quick, firm step came along the pas­ and I wiU foUow you forthwith." sage, and Matthew Diamond appeared at " Well, it is a miracle of the Lord if he the door of the kitchen. "WUl you be don't catch his death of cold," muttered good enough to give me a light ? " he said, the vridow as she redescended the steep. addressing the landlady. Then he saw David PoweU standing near the fire, and * A common expression among the early Methodists, looked at him curiously. PoweU did not to indicate the first fervour of religious zeal. turn, nor seem to observe the new comer. fA collection of receipts, published by John His head was bent down, and the fire­ Wesley, under the title of "Primitive Physic; or, An easy aad natural Method of Curing most Diaeasee." light partiaUy Ulumined his profile, which 1= HFl /- 'X rii= Charles Dickens.] A CHARMING FELLOW. [May 15,1875.] 147

was presented to anyone stending at the sermon from this Methodist enthusiast door. Mr. Diamond silently formed the (for Diamond could conceive of no other word " preacher ? " with his lips, at the reason for the preacher's desiriug an in­ same time nodding towards Powell, and terview with him than zeal for converting) raising his eyebrows interrogatively. Mrs. was, however, a different matter; and Thimbleby answered aloud vrith alacrity, Diamond had half a mind to decline the well pleased to begin a converaation with privato communication. He was a man her taciturn lodger. peculiarly avel;^e to outepokenness about "Yes, sir; it is our preacher, Mr. his own feelings. Nor was he given to Powell, as is one of our shiningest lighte, be frank and diffusive on topics of mere and an awakening caller of sinners to intellectual speculation; although, occa­ repentance. You've maybe heard him sionally, he could exchange thoughts on preach, sir? A many of the uncon­ such matters with a congenial mind. But verted—ahem!—a many as does not he knew well enough that, vrith the Metho­ belong to the connexion has eome to diste in general, an excited stete of feeling, hear him, in Whitford Wesleyan Chapel, which might do duty for conviction, was and on Whit-meadow. And we have the aim and end of their teaching and had seasons of abundant blessing and preaching. refreshment." " This man is ignorant and enthusiastic, PoweU had turned round at the be­ and will make himself absurd and me un­ ginning of Mrs. Thimbleby's speech, and comforteble, and I shall have to offend was looking earnestly at Mr. Diamond. him, which I don't wish to do," thought The latter, who had seen the preacher Mr. Diamond, standing stiff and grave only in the full tide of his eloquence and with the candle in his hand. But once the excitement of addressing a crowded more the sight of PoweU's haggard, suf­ audience, was struck by the change in fering face and bright*wistful eyes touched the face now before him. It was much him; and once more the resolute Matthew thinner, haggard, and deadly pale. There Diamond suffered himself to be swayed by were lines round the mouth, which ex­ an impulse of sympathy with this man. pressed anxiety and suffering; and the " Oh," said he, "well, you can come into eyes were sunk in their orbits, and start- my sitting-room." lingly bright. Diamond was, in fact, The invitation was not very graciously stertled out of his usual silent reserve given, but Powell did not seem to heed by the glance which met his own, and that at all. Mrs. Thimbleby stood in ad­ exclaimed, impulsively, " I'm afraid you miring astonishment as her two lodgers are Ul, Mr. Powell! " left the kitchen together. " No," returned the other at once, and The two young men, so strangely con­ without hesitation, "I have no bodUy trasted in all outward circumstances, ailment. I have seen you at the house entered the small parlour, which served of Jonathan Maxfield, have I not ? " as dining-room, sitting-room, and study to "Yes; I have been in the habit of Matthew Diamond, and seated themselves going there to read with a young gen­ at a table almost covered with books, one tleman. My name is Diamond—Matthew comer of which had been cleared to admit Diamond." of a little tea-tray being placed upon it. " I know it," answered Powell. " I " WiU you share my tea, Mr. Powell ? " should like, if you are wUling, to say a asked Diamond, as he fiUed a cup with few words to you privately." the strong brown liquid. Diamond was a good deal surprised, " No; I thank you for proffering it to and a little displeased, at this proposition. me, but I do not drink tea. He had been interested in the Methodist " I am sorry for that, for I am afraid I preacher, and the thought had more than have no other refreshment to offer you. I once crossed his mind that he should like don't indulge in wine or spirite." to see more of the man, whose whole per­ Diamond threw into his manner a sonality was so striking and uncommon. certain determined commonplaceness, as But Mr. Diamond had felt this wish just though to quench any tendency to ex­ as he might have wished to have Paganini citement or exaltetion which might show with his violin all to himself for an even­ iteelf in the preacher. Although he would ing ; or to learn viva voce from Edmund have expressed it in different terms, Keen how he produced his great effects. Matthew Diamond had at the bottom of To be the object and subject of a private his mind a feeling akin to that in Miss

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Chubb's, when she declared her dread of Churchman and the Dissenter, the Presby­ the Maxfield famUy " going into convul­ terian and the Independent, are alike sions " in the parish church of St. Chad. welcome to us, and are free alike to " I wiU teke a cup of tea myself, if you follow their own method of worship. In have no objection," said Diamond, suiting the words of John Wesley himself, * one the action to the word, and stretching out condition, and one only, is required—a his legs, so as to bring them within reach real desire to save their soiUs. Where this of the warmth from the fire. " Won't you is, it is enough; they desire no more. draw nearer to the hearth, Mr. Powell ? " They lay stress upon nothing else. They PoweU sat looking fixedly into the fire ask only. Is thy heart herein as my heart? with an abstracted air. His hands were If it be, give me thy hand.' " joined loosely, and restod on his knees. "Methodism has changed somewhat The fireUght shone on his wan, clearly- since the days of John Wesley," said cut face, but seemed to be absorbed and Diamond, drUy. quenched in the blackness of his hair, "Not Methodism, but—perhaps—Me­ which hung down in two straight, thick thodists. But it was not of Methodism locks behind his ears. He did not accept that I had it on my mind to speak to you Mr. Diamond's invitation to draw nearer now." to the warm hearth, but, after a pause, Diamond controlled his face and his turned his face to his companion, and attitude to express civil indifference; but said, " It is on behalf of the young maiden, his pulse was quickened, and he hid his Rhoda Maxfield, that I would speak with mouth with his hand. Powell went on: you, sir." " I have turned the matter in my mind, He could scarcely have said anything many ways. And I have sought for more thoroughly unexpected and discon­ guidance on it with much wrestUng of the certing to Matthew JDiamond. The latter spirit. But I had not received a clear did not start, or stere, or make any strong leading until this evening. When I saw demonstration of surprise, but he could ^ you standing in the doorway, it was borne not help a sudden flush mounting to his in upon me that you could be an instru­ face, much to hi^ annoyance. ment of help in this matter. And the "About Miss Rhoda Maxfield?" he leading was the more assured to me, returned coldly; "I do not understand because that to-day, having opened my what concern either you or I can have, bible after due supplication, mine eyes fell with any private conversation about that at once on the words, 'I have heard of young lady." thee by the hearing of the ear; but now "My concern' with Rhoda is that of mine eye seeth thee.' Now these words one who has had it laid upon him to lead were dark to me until just now, when you a tender soul out of the darkness into the seemed to appear as the explanation and h'ght, and who suddenly finds himself interpretation thereof." divided from that precious charge, even Diamond could not but acknowledge to at the moment when he hoped the goal himself that all the scriptural phraseology, was reached. Her father has left our and the technicalities of sectarianism, Society, and has thus carried Rhoda away which he found merely grotesque or from the reach of my exhortations." disgusting in men of common vulgar "By Jove! " thought Diamond to him­ natures, came from this man's lips with self, as he turned his keen grey eyes on as much ease and propriety, as if he had the preacher, "this is a specimen of spi­ been a Hebrew of old time uttering his ritual conceit on a colossal scale! " Then native idiom. Indeed, the impression of he said aloud, " You must console^ yourself there being something oriental about David with the hope that the exhortations she PoweU, which Diamond had received on wiU hear in the parish church wUl differ first seeing him, was deepened on further from your own rather in manner than acquaintence. This black-haired Welsh­ matter, Mr. Powell. There really are man was picturesque and poetic, despite some very decent people among the con­ his threadbare cloth suit, made in the un­ gregation of St. Chad's." graceful mode of the day; and impressive, " Nay," answered PoweU, with simple despite his equally threadbare phrases. It gentleness, " do you think I doubt it ? It is possible to make a wonderful difference has been the boast of Methodism that it in the effect both of clothes and words, by receives into its bosom aU denominations putting something earnest and unaffected of Christians, without distinction. The inside them. :lz3 Charles Dickens.] A CHARMING FELLOW. [May 15,1876.] 149

" What is the help you seek ? Aud how imperilled by going to St. Chad's, I don't can I help you ? " asked Diamond, with see what need there is for you to be grave directness. uneasy about her ! " "You are acquainted with the daughter " I am uneasy; but not for the reasons of the principal of the grammair school you suppose. Rhoda is very guUeless, and here " I would shield her from perU." "Miss Bodkin?" Diamond looked at the preacher stomly. "Yes. Do you think that, if you carried "I don't underatend you," he said. "And, te her a request that I might be permitted to say the truth, Mr. Powell, I disapprove to see and speak with her, she would of meddling in other people's affairs. Miss admit me ? " Maxfield is a young lady for whom I have " I—I don't know," answered Diamond, the very highest respect." greatly teken aback. For the first time a flame of quick anger There was a pause. Each man was flashed from Powell's dark eyes, as he busy with his own thoughts. " Rhoda is answered, "Your high respect would toach beyond my reach now," said Powell at you to stend aside and let the innocent length. "I can neither see nor speak maiden pine under a delusion which might with her. Nor do I know of any of those spoil her life and peril her soul; mine who see her familiarly, who would be prompte me to stop forward and awaken likely to influence her for good, except her to the truth, never heeding what Miss Bodkin. I am told that she is a lady flgure I make in tho matter." of much ability and power of mind; and I The sudden passion in the man's face hear, moreover, of her doing many acts of and figure was like a material Ulumina- charity arid kindness. You know her tion. Diamond had grown pale, and looked well, do you not ? " at him attentively, and in sUence. "I know her. Yes." " Do you think," proceeded Powell, his "Would you consent to carry such a thin hands working nervously, and his request from me ? " eyes blazing, " that I do not nnderatand Diamond hesitated. " Why not prefer how pure a creature she is—how innocent, the request yourself ? " he said. " If you confiding, and devoid of all suspicion of have any good reason for desiring an guUe ? Yea, and even, therefore, the more interview with Miss Bodkin, I beUeve she in need of warning! But because I am a would grant it." man still young in years, and neither the " I had thought, of doing so. I had maiden's brother, nor any kin to her, I thought, even, of writing all that I have must stand sUent and withodd my help, to say. But, for many reasons, I believe it jlest the world should say I am transgress­ would be more proflteble for me to see her ing its rules, and bid me mind my own face to face. I am no penman. I am affairs, or deride me for a fanatical fool! indeed, as you perceive, a man very igno­ Do you think I do not foresee aU this ? or rant in the world's learning and the do you think that, foreseeing it, I heed it ? world's ways." I have broken harder bonds than that; I Diamond suspected a covert boast under have fought with strong impulses; to which this humble speech, and answered in his such motives are as cobwebs " Then, coolest tones, " The firat is a disadvantage with a sudden check and change of tone —or an advantege, as you choose to con­ which a grain of affectetion would have sider it—which you share with a good sufficed to render ludicrous, but which, many of your brethren, Mr. PoweU. As to in its simpKcity, was almost touching, he the latter kind of ignorance—Methodists added, in a low voice, " I ask pardon for are generally thought to have worldly my vehemence; I speak too much of my­ wisdom enough for their needs." self. I have had some suffering in this PoweU bent his head. " I would fain matter, and am not always able to control have more learning," he said in a low my words. I have had strange visitings voice, "but only as a means, not as an of the old Adam of lato. It is only by end—not as an end." much striving after grace, and by strong " But," said Diamond, in a constrained wrestling in prayer, that I have not wan­ voice, " it seems to me hardly worth whUe dered utterly from the right way." to trouble Miss Bodkin, by asking for an He had risen from his chair at the be­ interview on any such grounds. Since ginning of his speech, and now sank down you are chariteble enough to beUeve that again on it wearily, with drooping head. Miss Maxfield's spiritual welfare is not Matthew Diamond sat and looked at

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150 [May 15,1876.] ALL THE YEAR. ROUND. . [Conducted by him still with the same earnest attention; slender, nervous, showing the corded veins, but blended, now, vrith a look of compas­ and with long emaciated fingers. It, too, sion. He was thinking to himself what indicated force, but force of a different must be the force of enthusiastic faith, kind. The one hand might have driven which could so subdue the fiery nature of a plough, or written out a mathematical this man, and how he must suffer in the problem; the other might have wielded conflic't. Presently, he said aloud, " I am a scimitar in the service of the Prophet, ready to admit, Mr. Powell, that you are or held up a crucifix in the midst of actuated by conscientious motives; I am persecuting savages. As they stood for sure that you are. But your conscience a second thus hand in hand, Powell's cannot be a rule for all the rest of the mouth broke into a wonderfuUy sweet world. Mine may counsel me differently, and radiant smUe, and he said, " You see, you know." sir, I was right to have faith in my coun- " Oh, sir, we are neither of us left to seller. You have helped me! " our own guidance, thanks be to God ! Diamond sat musing late that night, There is a sure counsellor that can never and was roused by the cold to find his faU us. I have searched diligently, and I fire gone out and his watch marking have received a clear leading which I can­ half-past twelve o'clock. "I wonder," not misteust. I do not feel free to tell he thought to himself, "if PoweU has you more particularly the grounds of my any foundation for his hints, and if any anxiety respecting Rhoda Maxfield. But scoundrel is playing false with her. If there I do assure you, with all sincerity and be, I should like to shoot him like a dog!" solemnity, that I have her welfare wholly at heart, and that I would not injure her by the least shadow of blame in the ENGLISH CATHEDRALS. opinion of any human being." WORCESTER. There was silence for some minutes—' IT is around the grave of John, un­ Diamond leant his head on his hand and doubtedly one of the worst of our English reflected. Then at length he said, " Look kings—and that is saying a good deal- here, Mr. Powell; I believe, if you had that the traditions of Worcester cathedral pitched on anyone else in all Whitford chiefly centre. to speak to about Miss Rhoda Maxfield, I A civU war long raged among the should have declined to assist you. But antiquaries, as to the exact spot in the Miss Bodkin is so superior in sense and cathedral where John's body rested. goodness to most other folks here, that I The king's simple stone coffin, with its am s

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Charles Dickens.] ENGLISH CATHEDRALS. [May 15,1876.] 151 vexed question by opening the later tomb, is occupied by William de Blois, the suc­ with the intention,, if no body was found, cessor of Bishop Sylvester. St. Oswald of removing it to the Lady chapel, where had been enshrmed by Bishop Adulph, the real relics lay. The tomb was accord­ his successor, in 1002, and again by ingly opened in July, 1797, and the body Bishop Wulstan, in 1089, at the opening found. On the removal of the effigy and the of the present cathedral. broken slab below, the workmen laid bare There seems but little doubt, and yet two partition-walls of brick, which helped there is but little proof, that Worcester to support the effigy. On teking down was one of the ancient British cities—the the side and end panels, two strong elm Caer Guarangor of Nennius, Alfred of boards, once joined by a batten, but now Beverley, and Henry of Huntingdon. • On loose, were seen. These boards had covered the borders of a great forest, and com­ the king's stone coffin, which lay below. manding an important ford of the Severn, The skull was upside down, and the os it would stand weU either to start forays frontis had decayed to a level with the or to resist incursions. The Saxon name, bottom of the sockets of the eyes. The Weogorna Coastre, proves that the Romans dean and chapter were instantly called had raised either a standing camp or fort together, and Mr. Sandford, an eminent on this spot. Worcester surgeon, sent for to examine About the origin of the word Worcester, the ghastly relics. The two jaws had hogsheads of learned ink have been spilt. fallen apart, and there were four sound The general feeling now is, that Camden teeth in the upper jaw. A few grey hairs was right when'he traced it to the Saxon were visible under the cowl, which was word Wich, or .brine-spring, salt-wells buckled under the chin. The ulna of the being common in Worcestershire. Valen­ left arm lay obliquely on the breast. The tine Green, however, derives it from Wiga- ribs and pelvis were hidden by dust, and erne, the Warrior's Lodge. the rags of the king's monkish dress. The The British church at Worcester did inner robe, which had been crimson damask, not become a cathedral tUl A.D. 680, when had turned a mummy Iwown; the cuff of Ethelred, King of Mercia, appointed Bosel the left sleeve was entire, and there was bishop of the Wiccians. This was in the embroidery remaining near the right knee. very year that Benet, Abbot of Weremouth, There had been a sword by the king's left master of the Venerable Bede, is said to side, but it had rotted away, though part have first introduced stone houses and of the leather scabbard remained. There glass windows among the Saxons, who were traces of ornamented boots on the had hitherto buUt all their edifices of feet, and the string of one stUl remained wood. The first cathedral was dedicated, round the left ankle. The body measured we are told, to St. Peter; but, iu the next five feet six inches. century, it was called St. Mary's. It is The coffin was of white Higley stone, uncei;tain now where the first cathedral dissimilar to the foundation of the tomb stood. Bishop Oswald, following in St. or the effigy, and an oblique fracture Dunstan's steps, expeUed the married ran through it. It stood on the floor of clergy from Worcester cathedral, and in the choir, and was not sunk below it. 983 founded a new and more stately According to an old antiquary, the tomb cathedral in the churchyard of St. Peter's, of John was originally Purbeck marble, furnishing it with twenty-eight altars, painted vermilion, and ornamented with and dedicating it to the Virgin Mary. nine lions or. It was surrounded with During the buUding, the bishop used to gilt palisades, and the effigy was, in Eliza­ preach in the open area by St. Peter's beth's time, gilt. church, near a cross erected over the The graves of the two bishops and* monument of Duke Wiferd and Alta his saints who originally guarded the body wife, who had been great benefactora to of King John have also been desecrated, St. Peter's. This ducal monument, which and now contain unjust tenants. St. was teken down in the reign of Edward Oswald's grave is supposed to hold the the Confessor, in order to enlarge the choir body of Bishop Sylvester, who interred of St. Peter's, stood at the end of High- King John, and died himself in 1219. street, a mUe distant from Whitestanes. This bishop had disentombed St. Wulsten This cathedral, no doubt, suffered when and put the relics in a new shrine, sawing Worcester was burnt and sacked by the some of the sacred bones asunder vrith his fierce soldiers of Hardicanute; and in own episcopal hands. St. Wulsten's grave 1084 Bishop Wulstan began a new and

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= a (^ 152 [May 15,1876.] ALL THE YEAR ROUND. [Conducted by

grander church and monastery, which took at the west end of the vestry, and a third five yeara buUding, and was coiiseca^ated on the north side. In the last arch the as " St. Mary-in-Cryptis." This magnificent sacristan is supposed to have stored the prelate laid on the alter of his new church sacred vestments and the vessels for the the deeds of the manor of Alveston, in altars. There was a small stone balcony, Warwickshire, which had formerly be­ with glazed windows, and a flight of longed to the see, and which he had re­ stone steps inside, within the wall, and a covered for a sum of money from the door leading into the church, now closed Conqueror; and, a short time before his up. This buUding, which might have death, he laid on the Virgin's altar the served as a snug, detached vestry for the deeds of other lands. bishop, was removed at the beginning of It is related of Bishop Wulstan that, the last century. The original cathedral upon seeing the workmen employed in seems to have had three towers, two of pulling down the old church, he wept. which were blown down in a storni, and One of his attendants expostulating with the third feU of itself. him, and reminding him that he ought Worcester crypt, which is Saxon, is of rather to rejoice, as he was preparing in great antiquity, and is probably the old the room of the old an edifice of greater base of Oswald's church. It contains, splendour, and more proportioned to the however, no tombs or altars ; although in enlarged number of his monks, he replied: a northern recess there, are three coats of "I think far otherwise. We, poor wretches, arms of Clare, Earl of Gloucester, There destroy the works of our forefathers only are, however, some sculptures representitig to get praise to ourselves; that happy age a devotee, probably St. Oswald, offering of holy men knew not how to build stately the model of a church to an angel whose churches ; but, under any roof, they offered arms are extended to receive it. The up themselves living temples unto God, Annunciation, the Nativity, and the Visi­ and, by their examples, excited those under tation are also sculptured there; and, on a their care to do the same; but we, on the west wall, the wicked are dolorously troop­ contrary, neglecting the care of the souls, ing into the mouth of a whale-like monster, labour to heap up stones." On the finish­ intended to represent Hell. Over a great ing of his new church, he caused the relics Saxon arch at the west end of the vestry of St. Oswald to be inclosed in a new shrine sits a figure pensively resting its head on prepared for that purpose, and solemnly de­ its hand—probably an Ecce Homo—and posited them therein, on the 12th of October the mutilated statue of a seated bishop. the same year, at the expense of seventy- Opposite the north transept of the cross- two marks of sUver, or about forty-eight aisle of the Lady chapel there stood, in pounds of our present money. old times, a clock tower with a leaden spire In 1113, when Worcester city and castle and two bells, and on the clock bell was were burnt, the cathedral and monastery graven the old rhyming monkish inscrip­ were much injured by fire, and two monks tion, seldom, says Fuller, found on one and fifteen citizens perished. In Easter bell alone except at Worcester: week, 1202, it was again burnt down, and En Ego Campana, numquam denuncio vana, the new buUding was not consecrated till Laudo Deum verum, plebem voco, congrego derum. 1218, Bishop Sylvester dedicating it to Funera plango, Fulgura frango, St. Mary, St. Peter, and the Saints Oswald Oblata ) and Wulstan, in the presence of the young SabatafP^°«o- King Henry the Third, two years after his Excito lentos, Dissipo ventos, accession. Paco cruentos. The buUding is a puzzle of various styles, which Fuller thus quaintly Anglicises: and it is with the greatest care and labour Men's deaths I tell only, that the tocal antiquaries have decided By doleful knell. on what remains of Wulstan's work. They Ligbtning and tbuuder have now settled that Wulsten's principal I break asunderi On Sabbatb all entrance was by a porch, which now forms To church I call. the great cross aisle of the nave. There Tbe sleepy bead were two descente into the crypt—the one I raise from bed. Tbe winds so fierce . under the present ascent to the north 1 do disperse. aisle of the choir, and the other through Men's cruel rage the great Saxon arch into the vestries on I do assuage. the south. There was another Saxon arch Which is, indeed, an epitome of aU the :i3 Charles Dickens.] ENGLISH CATHEDRALS. [May 15,1876.] 153 attributes ascribed to bells in the middle It was carried round the gates of the city, ages. This clock tower was, tradition the choir singing before it, when the says, reared by King John, but Strype Empress Maud attacked Worcester; but, fathera it on Henry the Third. Valen­ nevertheless, the empress's men forced tine Green declares his opinion that the their way roughly in, and set fire to many two lower arches of the present nave are streets anS plundered the town. According part of St. Oswald's buUding, which had to the Abingdon MS, King Henry the Sixth escaped the Danes. They are too large on one occasion vn'ote to the Worcester to have formed part of the old church of priory to beg that a procession might be St. Peter; and as for St. Mary's monastery, headed by the relics of St. Osmund, to it seems certein that that was entirely obtain rain from Heaven aftor a long and destroyed by Wulstan, when he trans­ extreme drought; but the result is not planted the monks. It is probable, says appended. Green, that Bishop Blois connected these St. Wulsten in time grew to be almost remains to the present building by adding equally popular a saint. In 1201, one fresh arches to the nave between them hundred and six years after his lamented and the great cross aisle, Bishop Blois's death, about sixteen peraons in a day were work being especially marked out by the cured, or asserted to be cured, at his tomb, red Ombersley stone, never used in the the veneration for which had increased, cathedral subsequently to his time. These after the sacrilegious removal of the saint's arches are, then, if the conjecture be correct, body by Bishop de Constentis in 1196. one hundred and one yeara older than any Wulstan was canonised at Rome on the other part of the present cathedral, though 9th of May, 1203, by Pope Innocent the not united to it till two hundred and ninety- Third, who had previously sent a commis­ six years after St. Wulsten had completed sion of bishops and abbots to inquireHmto his building. , Wulstan's architect appears the authenticity of the asserted miracles. to have placed his arches in exact line with Bishop Sylvester placed the dust of the those of St. Oswald, Wulsten evidently saint in a sumptuous new shrine, the old hoping that his pious successors would one having been economically melted complete the double cross, which is the down, two years before, to assist in pay­ plan of the now perfected cathedral, leaving ing a fine of three hundred marks, ex­ room for the exact size of the second cross, acted from the convent for having sub­ which completed the great geometric pro­ mitted to the French Dauphin. Bishop blem of beauty. Bishop Wakefield, finding Sylvester is said to have given one of the the two or three small Saxon windows in­ good man's ribs to the monks of St. Alban, sufficient to light the nave, added a great who received it in solemn procession and west window, united the ancient arches covered it with gold. The profits of Wul­ to Bishop Blois's work, raised the vault­ stan's tomb, in the time of WiUiam de ing of the aisles internally, and linked Blois, were divided pacifically between them with the higher vaulting of the new the bishop and the convent. Edward the nave. He also closed the inconvenient First often resorted to this tomb, to make west entrance, and opened the present good resolutions, and to atone for having north porch—-large, dignified, convenient broken old ones; and in 1300 this warlike to the city and the palace, and near the king, in a sudden fit of piety, sent eight cemetery. The chapel of the charnel- candles to bum before it. St. Wulfstan's house, buUt by Bishop Blois to receive head seems to have been kept in the the dead, was removed during the im­ vestry, and was shown to pilgrims for provements. an additional fee. In 1538 the shrines of Ten yeara after St. Oswald's death, the two sainte were teken down, and their many miracles were ingeniously wrought bones laid in lead at the north end of the at his tomb. When Adulph translated high alter, during aU which time there his bones, his body was found reduced to was thunder and lightning, says a tena­ powder, but his episcopal robe was as cious believer, and the church loudly fresh as when woven; and so, according to threatened to fall in. In 1641, however, William of Malmesbury, it remained tiU both tombs were carted away, and there his time (the twelfth century), which at was no thunder or Ughtning at aU, though least shows that the saint knew where to the desecration was far greater. Some buy his garments. A new shrine, bought writers think that the oblong squares by Bishop Wulstan for his honoured pre­ of mosaic tiles, in the north aisle of decessor, cost seventy-two sUver marks. the Lady chapel, stUl indicate the old

y"i^^- T \

154 [May 15,1875.] ALL THE YEAR ROUND. [Conducted by graves, once so profiteble to the Worces­ shapeless plastering, occupying one-third ter monks. Mr. Valentine Green men­ of the whole fa9ade, and was always tions the curious fact that, up tUl a late pointed out by the vergers with shame period, Roman Catholics used to visit the and regret, as the result of the brutal cathedral, on the day of Oswald's decease, fanaticism of CromweU's troops, after the to pray at a gravestone, which has an rout of the Royalist army at Worcester, in effigy on it, in St. Mary's chapel. 1651. The antiquary before mentioned, The chapels in Worcester cathedral have examining the plaster, observed that it considerable interest. A Lady chapel, at projected to the level of the remaining the east end of the buUding, was de­ canopies, and that the recesses of niches molished by Dean Barlow in 1550. The were stUl visible, and thought it pos­ Deans' chapel, in the south transept, is so sible, as he told Dean St. John, that some caUed from conteining four out of the first of the images were stUl there. The dean, five deans, elected after the suppression of as a mere experiment, took out his pen­ the monastery. The chapel in the north knife and stuck it in the central niche, transept, where Bishop Parry's monu­ when he hit upon a gilt fibula, which ment is, has no name. The chapels of fastened the drapery on the image of a St. Edward and St. George, both of which dead Christ. On the body were red spots, were furnished with organs, were pulled to indicate the wounds, and the partly-gilt down by the ruthless Barlow. Jesus chapel diapers were upheld by smgels. The mor­ is on the north side of the nave. The tar being removed, disclosed five figures— Charnel House chapel was dedicated to a St. George trampling on the dragon, a Thamas the Martyr. St. Nicholas (patron saint of Henry the But the most historical, and most Sbcth), Edward the Fourth, and Henry beautiful of all the Worcester-cathedral the Sixth—the latter with an animal, pro­ chapels is Prince Arthur's chapel, near the bably a lamb, at his feet. The union of high altar. This promising and amiable the two houses of York and Lancaster was son of Henry the Seventh died at Ludlow thus indicated. Castle, four months after his marriage with The prince's tomb, of marble throughout, the chUd-princess, Catherine of Arragon, is blazoned with the arms of France and daughter of Ferdinand. The prince, as England, and the epitaph is vmtten in the we learn from his French tutor, Andre, old square Gothic letter, which, with the though only fourteen, had already studied " Orate pro anima," went out of use after Homer, Thucydides, Tacitus, SaUust, Ovid, the reign of Edward the Sisth. The Cicero, and Plaraitus, and his loss was very prince's heart was buried in the chancel of grievous to his mother, who, indeed, only Ludlow church. The sUver box (a double survived it a few months. On this monu- one) was found there about 1790, and mentel chapel at Worcester the king stolen by the sexton, who was detected lavished all his treasure; and a beautiful and dismissed. There is a portrait of the network of stone it is—poor only beside prince in the north window of Jesus the great stone casket of Westminster, chapel, in Great Malvern priory. which, only six years after, received the The behaviour of Cromwell's troops body of Arthur's father. It is, in fact, in Worcester cathedral, after their great like a beautiful window-frame, its panels victory, was as bad as could be. They studded with the roses of York and Lan­ broke off all the beards, noses, and caster, the prince's feather, and the jewelled fingers of the bishops' effigies; destroyed garter; adorned with stetues of bishops and two organs; smashed the great painted of kings; and crowned at the top by ex­ windows; tore up the church bibles and quisite filagrees, pinnacles, and light-pierced beautiful service-books; rifled the cathe­ battlemente, beautiful as the steel work of dral Ubrary; quartered their horses in the Cellini. An alter once stood inside, at the nave ; whUe the dragoons put on the copes east end, beneath the figure of a dead and surplices, and rode, shouting, about Christ, at the foot of the tomb where so Worcester streets in them, in triumph over much hope, joy, and fair promise lay buried. the humbled church. Cromwell's officers And here, no doubt, the chantry priest of­ were afraid to do anything more severe fered his daily prayera for the dead prince. than strike the men with their hats ; and, at A very interesting discovery about this last, the soldiers were employed in throw­ tomb was made by a shrewd antiquary ia ing up useless earthworks at a shiUing a 1788. The east end of this shrine had been, day, to keep them from puUing down the from time immemorial, a blank of rude. cathedral altogether. =if Charles Dickens.] ENGLISH CATHEDRALS. [May 15,1876.] 155

A victim of this same cruel war lies the First. This old bishop was an alchemist, near the altar. This is WUliam, Dake of and wrote on the philosopher's stone. Some Hamilton. His leg was broken by a stray great Rosicrucian secret may perhaps lie in shot in the battle of Worcester, and he those few figures. died a few days afterwards, Trappam, At the back of the high altar is the monu­ CromweU's surgeon, having delayed the ment of that clever partisan, Bishop Gau- amputation too long, in hopes of saving den, who passed off his own book of prayers the limb. The duke's dying vrish was to be as the production of Charles the First, who buried at Hamilton, but this request was only used them. The figure of the worldly- refused. The duke's brother had been vrise man, in a concave oval, holds a book executed some years before. supposed to be the pseudo Icon Basilike, Under an arch, beneath the east end of about which, perhaps on his death-bed, he Prince Arthur's chapel, is a tomb generaUy had the tardy courage to tell the truth. attributed to a Countess of Surrey, though Nor must we leave this builduig, whence all the known Countesses of Surrey lie so many good men's prayera have ascended, in Lewes abbey. The lady has a veil without mentioning that mysterious tomb­ on her head, and on her chin a wimple, stone opposite the lower south entrance of and she holds a rosary in her hands. the nave, at the west end of the cold north A telbot is couchant at her feet. This cloistera. The stone bears only the one tomb was long thought to be that of the touching word " Miserrimus," and many Countess of Salisbury, the heroine of the of our poete have penned pathetic elegiac old tradition of the garfer dropped at verses upon the unha ppy man, whose sorrow the ball, and King Edward the Third's and despair could find expression only iu subsequent foundation of the Order of the that one deep groan. There is, however, Garter. The tomb is really that of Andela, to local antiquaries, no mystery at all about daughter and sole heiress of Griffin de the person; he was not a traitor, suicide, Albo Monasterio or Blanchminster, Lord atheist, or murderer; nor did he in convent of Ichtofield, in Salop, and wife of John, ceU, in the peculiar temptetions of solitude son of Griffin de Warren, natural son of and celibacy, hatch, with the devil's help, WUliam, sixth Earl of Surrey. some new and unutterable crime. He Of the same age is the adjoining fine was only a poor, neglected, old nonjuring tomb of Bishop Godfrey Giffard (died parson, who Uved to an extreme old age, 1301). This used erroneously to be caUed living on that bitter bread obtained from St. Wulsten's, and was removed from the the bounty of friends, and climbing those north side of the alter. The figure, mitred painful stairs that lead to the too self-con­ and in full pontificals, has jeweUed shoes, scious presence of a rich patron. The and the head is covered by a Gothic Rev. Thomas Morris, a Worcestershire canopy guarded by angels. In quatrefoUs, clergyman, refusing to teke the oath of at the sides of this grand episcopal tomb, supremacy at the accession of WiUiam are saints, martyrs, and apostles; and in of Orange, was deprived of his prefer­ the spandrels, the heads of angels. This ment, his only means of subsistence, and is the generous bishop who added the supported his venerable old age on charity, Uttle pillars of Purbeck marble to the and on the chance bene^cence of a few columns of the choir, the Lady chapel, generous staunch old Jacobites. He died and the whole series of windows. These in 1748, aged eighty-eight. As a simple pillarets were fastened by rings of gilt record of the chUl evening of his not Ul- copper, and still remain entire, not being, spent life, it was Mr. Morris's last re­ as is too ofton the case, cut horizontally quest to the friend who witnessed him from the quarry, and then placed perpen­ shuffle off this mortel coU, that no orna­ dicularly, which ensures their spUtting. mental marble should ostentetiously relate The monument of Bishop Thomborough who he had been, and that the oiUy word (1627) in our Lady's chapel, erected by should be that sad but true one, " Miser­ himself, with its arch supported by four rimus,'* pathetic memorial indeed of great pUlara, and its recumbent effigy, has ex­ misery and great humUity. cited much curiosity from the strange It is hardly necessary to say that the Wor­ inscription, " In uno 2° 3* 4°' 10—non cester bishops were like most other human spirans sper," above the aifch on the north beings—bad and good. Among the best of side of the tomb. This is one of the huge them»was Reginald Brian, the peraonalfriend carved "bedsteadmonumente,"as they have of the Black Prince, who vo^te him a letter been called, of the cumbrous age of James aiter the victory at Poictiera, which is stiU

y \ ai, 156 [May 15,1875.] ALL THE YEAR ROUND. [Conducted by preserved in the Worcester archives. It The happy-voiced and fairy-footed Spring, Which IS the brightest and the tenderest thing is fuU of a true knight's modesty, courtesy, The poor, brown, burdened earth yet beareth. and piety, and is in French, dated October To-day the ancient year-worn world so weareth 20, 1356. This bishop died of the plague; Her fleeting robe of faint and-flower-pied green, As though grey Winter were not; but, in sooth, and, before him, there was Bishop Hor- The exhaustless largesse of eternal youth lefon, the wicked counsellor of Queen Fell with the boiinteous beams, whose softened sheen, Isabel, who urged her on to the murder Gold-bright, tear-tender, lover-warm, will woo The prisoned Danae, earth, to fruitfulness. of Edward the Second. He is said to have With budding leaves, and bird-songs, and tho peep sent to the governor of Berkeley Castle Of tinted petals everywhere, the sleep the well-known ambiguous Latin mes­ Of Winter breaks in smiles. Shall love do less Than burgeon with the lilac-blossoms ? Home sage: "Edwardum occidere: nolite timere From lands of tropic splendour am I come bonum est." The stop after " nolite" To greet your pale primroses, which did smile changes the whole meaning, as is at Welcome from every nooklet of our isle. But yours was sweetest. Nay, withdraw it not once obvious. But, unfortunately for the Because too purely prized! Dear, must I blot story, it has been proved that, at the time The lilac from your picture ? 'Tia to me of the king's cruel murder, the bishop Henceforth your emblem, and speaks promise. See The spray you plucked me! I havelimned it there, was with the Pope at Avignon. One of Purple against the amber of your hair. the Medici, a nephew of Leo the Tenth, The pictured clusters are your own, but this!— afterwards Clement the Seventh, was There is no golden lure, no siren's kiss. Bishop of Worcester for one year (1522). Should woo it from me. Faded ? Yes, but, fed With memories sweet, not even dust is dead. The martyrs Hooper and Latimer were While hope hath root therein. So let it rest, both bishops of Worcester. Bishop Pri- A treasured gage against a loyal breast. deaux, a zealous CavaUer, who excommu­ Say, shall your blossom be A fateful, or a fragrant memory ? nicated all CromweU's recruits, died in So silent! Ah, shy flutterer, fold your wing, great poverty; and then came good Bishop Mine April love who comes to me with Spring Morley, so generous a man, that Charles the Second said, when he gave him the Worcester mitre, " Morley wUl be never THE HUSHES OP HOLWYCH. the richer for it." When this bishop was once asked, by a tedious country theolo­ MoEE than thirty yeara have elapsed, gian, " What the Armenians held ? " he since the circumstances hereinafter related replied, to the anger of the Laud courtiers, aroused a curiosity and interest, by no " The best bishoprics and deaneries in Eng­ means limited to the neighbourhood of land." StUlingfleet, that theological giant, their occurrence. was another Worcester bishop of renown; The drama of Ufe has shifted rapidly; and he was succeeded by good Bishop Lloyd, the principal actors in this little episode the great chronologer. Bishop Hugh, who have passed away; the scene itself has, held the crozier flfty-three years, occupied with .a suddenness rare even in these his episcopal throne for a longer time than transforming times, assumed an aspect as any other English bishop. dissimUar to its former self as Nature, though much-enduring, could permit. The triennial meeting of the choirs of The railway that pierced Holwych to Worcester, Hereford, and Gloucester was its heart, sweeping away like cobwebs started by gentlemen of Worcester choir picturesque old cots, and sowing jstaring in 1720; and the first performance was in " villa-residences" in their room, could Worcester cathedral, 1722. About 1749 the not absorb its noble uplands, rich with money was formally devoted to the use of box and fern, nor divert the course of the the widows and orphans of the clergy in little river, in whose dark-green pools, the three dioceses. ever since Caesar's war-chariots rumbled through this vale, countless generations of LILAC-BLOSSOM. ' trout had lurked and fattened; but it BzcAUSE your face is sucb a flower-like thing tunnelled the one and spanned the other, As migbt bave blossomed in tbe Song-World's Spring; and, rushing on to fresh destruction, left See! I bave set it midst tbe purple spires, Wbose fine and dew-fresb fragrance never tires, Holwych a thriving town indeed, but As incense of more gorgeous blossoms may. with an air of having been on a visit to We wandered, yesterday, London, and of having brought back with Through your belovfed lilac-walk. Tbe sun, Kissing the shower-spray'd clusters, seemed to run it something of the gloss, swing, and From purple peak to peak, in leaping fire swagger of metropolitan suburban life. Of amethyst and silver. As you sought, Such a metamorphosis, combined with Tiptoe, to pluck tbe topmost spray, methougbt. In that sylph-shape and sunny face upreared. the alteration of a few names, will pre­ Incarnate Spring appeared j serve for Holwych a sufficing incognito. t& * Charles Dickens.] THE HUSHES OF HOLWYCH. [May 15,1876.] 157

For this which foUows is, so to speak, a " Know you ! How ? " asked his wife, mystery. And the lovera of such narrations laughing. are sometimes—as, indeed, is the privUege " That's more than I can say! " replied of the sex that most delights in them— the colonel, still with a puzzled look. " I uncertain, coy, and somewhat difficult en­ can really hardly explain my meaning— tirely to please. Explain your ghost, and but it's something like a man, making one he becomes an impostor. Don't, anji, even a hesitating bow, being not quite certein if your veracity pass unchallenged,* par­ that it isn't your brother." ticulars are demanded as the price of " WiUiam, your brother, does hunt in faith, which it might be inexpedient— this neighbourhood! " said Mrs. Elderton, nay, Hbellous—to disclose. Perhaps a pertly. better reason than the excitement of mere " Ha! that's it, no doubt! " responded wonder may be found for this description her spouse. of narrative, in the fact that it has occa­ "But, Cuthbert, dear," resumed Mrs. sionally helped scepticism iteelf to com­ E., " don't they say that people sometimes prehend that there may be, moving in our have previsions — foreshadowings — of very midst, powers, forces, and forms of things and places yet to come ? " being, which all man's garnered wisdom " Often. At this very moment," replied can neither weigh nor gauge. the colonel, still at the window, " I have On a bright May" morning, in 1835, a prevision of certein mutton-chops about Colonel Cuthbert Elderton, accompanied to become reality, for I can hear the by his fair little newly-married wife, waiter saying so! " quitted London in search of a country "You always laugh at such things," home. The world—as in the case of said his wife, discontentedly. another pair of whom we have not un­ " Chops ? I indignantly deny it! " frequently heard—was all before them, responded her hungry spouse, opening where to choose; and, having no reason the door to listen. for especial haste, they resolved to examine " No. Mysteries." at least such parte of it, as might be con­ " On the contrary, I like them. I solve veniently visited in a fortnight, and a them, too—sometimes. For example, the mail-phaeton. sort of prevision you speak of, dear, pro­ After being all but ensnared by the bably means, nine times in ten, that, sombre charms of an old Elizabethan having formed a very definite opinion as mansion, well clothed with wood-:^which to something you would like, when, years proved to have been a lunatic asylum—and and years after,"'it suddenly presents itself, after declining, with thanks, a brighter- you claim it as an old friend." looking residence, whose latest proprietor "I am certain, it is a fate. We are had pushed his wife into a well (the law, to live here," said Mrs. Elderton, deci­ however, in its ever-growing tenderness sively. for murder, refusing to convict him), the At this moment the lunch appeared. colonel and his wife found themselves, at " I almost think we decided too hastily the end of a week, passing the pretty little against that pretty Wilcote," remarked cluster of cottages, and the one irregular the colonel, as they sat down. street, which at that time represented " Cuthbert, dear, that weU ! " said his Holwych. With the broad sunny uplands little wife, with a shiver. on the one hand, and the wooded and "My love, I cannot bring myself to watered valley on the other, the travellers believe, that there is anything about the found the scene so attractive, that they place, calculated to produce in every occu­ determined to halt at the vUlage inn—the pant an irresistible desire to push his wife Swan—take their lunch, and make some into a well! " local inquiries. "Nonsense. But it's no matter. I " Curious! " remarked the colonel, should never feel perfectly at ease—quite thoughtfully, as they presently stood at home, you know—in a house where together at a back window of the inn, anything strange had happened." commanding a view of the adjacent " He wasn't convicted, you know," country. observed the colonel. " My love, another "What, dear?" chop ? " "I have never, to my remembrance, " Now I wonder if they ever used the— passed through this place before; yet, well—after ? " said Mrs. Elderton, thought- somehow, it—it seems to know me ! " fuUy.

r ^r =1. 158 [May 15,1876.] ALL THE YEAR ROUND. [Conducted by

. "Can't say. Speaking for myself, I must be magnificent, dear. Shall we give own," said the colonel, " I should be dis­ them a minute or two ? " posed to let that well alone.—^Waiter, do Mrs. Elderton readily assented, and you chance to know of any vacant resi­ the pair, alighting,-walked—as the riddle dences in this immediate neighbourhood ? hath it—round the house, and round the I should want good stabling and out- house, and were only deterred from look­ offices, and a Uttle land. There is nothing ing in at every window, by the strong iron to suit us, I teke it." shutters which hermeticaUy sealed the "Ye—, that is, no, sir," answered the same. man, with a quick glance at Mrs. Elderton. " By your leave, monsters!" said the " Which do you mean ? " colonel, impatiently, as they returned to " There's nothing, sir, to—to suit the the portico; and he gave a stout tug to lady," returned the man, hastUy. " Every­ the bell, which emitted one heavy sepul­ thing in these parts, a'most, is in the hoc- chral note, and then, as if exhausted with cupation of families which had lived there the effort, left its handle in his grasp. for yeara. But there's a hagent, Mr. Brod- Provoked, but not discouraged, the two gett, in the next viUage, as '11 teU you explorers continued to -hover about the more." enchanted castle, till they discovered a " I am more and more attracted by this small wicket, opening upon a lane, follow­ place," said the colonel, as they resumed ing which latter they came upon a gate, their journey; " apart from the mysterious strong and securely locked, but with open welcome it has given me. Nothing to be bars, thus affording a view of the garden had, eh ? No wonder people get attached and grounds in rear of the mansion. These to Hallo! There's a vacancy, at appeared to be even more picturesque and least!" beautiful than the colonel had anticipated. They were passing a large mansion, about Broad terraces, spacious lawns—some level, a quarter of a mUe beyond the viUage, some sloping downward toward the river, standing back from the road, and shielded whose mui'mur, as it rippled over some from the latter by a large clump of fine invisible weir, could be faintly heard; cedars, so as to be only visible above the clumps of maple, planes, and elms; choked- gates, which opened upon a broad carriage- up flower-beds ; moss-covered fountains; sweep. It was built of grey stone, was long everywhere a wild warfare between order and low, and had projecting wings and and confusion, in which the former was a sheltered portico—altogether present­ being graduaUy overborne. ing a heavy, yet imposing frontage; while, On the farther side of the central lawn from its elevated position, it was clear that there commenced an avenue of huge and the back windows must command an unin­ venerable walnut trees, terminating in an terrupted view of the whole of that beau­ alcove or open summer-house of white tiful vale, on the wooded slope of which stone. Shut out from the house by the it stood. intervening trees, this building was so The colonel had checked his horses, placed as evidently to command, not only to make a closer scrutiny. There were the fairest portions of the garden, but the remnants of auctioneers* announcements distent country beyond. stUl adhering to the outor walls, and the "Why, Cuthbert, it is a paradise! " ex­ house itself displayed no signs of occu­ claimed Mrs. Elderton, visions of improve­ pation. Doors and windows were closed ment already chasing each other through throughout. No thread of smoke, issuing her active mind. from any of the multitudinous chimneys, It was, in truth, a smiling scene. The betrayed the presence of creatures who apple and pear blossoms—these must have must dine; and the property, generaUy, been a hobby of some former proprietor— appeared to be relegated to the sombre were absolutely dazzling; and the young guardianship of two colossal figures—^half May leaves, with their soft, fresh tints, man, half griffin — which flanked thie completed the natural glory of the scene. portico. The mansion iteelf, on this side, presented ** That house, now, looks as if it had a quite a cheerful aspect — the rear face story," observed Mra. Elderton. being either painted red, or faced with "I wish it had another!" repUed her brick, and abundantly clothed with pear husband, vrith a critical closing of the and pomegranate, trained round the win­ eyes. " Too heavy, by half, for such an dows, which opened to the ground. elevation. The grounds, if there be amy. " The house is a humbug! " remarked

y^ ct= :>: Charles Dickena.] THE HUSHES OP HOLWYCH. [May 15,1876.] 159

the colonel. " Who, from ite frowning been so, in effect, for some little time— front, woiUd have expected a scene like a couple of years or so—the rent being this ? " high, very high (in fact, four hundred a " It is just the place I should dote on ! " year). Seeing that the land was limited to said his wife, enthusiasticaUy. " Vacant, about a dozen acres, without shooting—for too, dear. What could that man mean, Mr. Brodgett would not allude to the by saying there was nothing in the neigh­ right of shooting dabchicks in the Mumble bourhood ? " as sport—^the rent was high. But, then, " The waiter ? I can only account for there were reasons: the mansion was his­ it," replied the colonel, " by the supposi­ torical. tion that some friend of his, just married— " Historical ? » ' and ready, under those demoralising cir­ " Connected with one of the most inte­ cumstances, to indulge his vrife's every resting periods of English history. The whim—has an eye upon it already." Lord Chancellor Jeffreys, by some vnritora " Oh, Cuthbert, does that mean ? " styled the * bloody,' is said to have resided "It means,at aU events, that we'U make there." some inquiry. But how to get haUo, " The deuce he has I" ejacxUated the you!" colonel, thinking of his nervous little A boy of loafing aspect, coated with wife. moss, as if he had been bird-nesting up "But," resumed Mr. Brodgett, seeing some venerable tree, had just appeared his mistake, and with an indulgent sniile, from behind a clump of elder-bushes. " this is not based on any recorded facts. "Hallo, yon!" returned the boy, like a Holwych, you must know, was formerly surly echo. the assize town, and possibly his lordship, " Who looks after this place ? " when judge on this circuit, might have " None but th' ushers, I 'low," replied passed a night at the mansion. Then, sir, the youth, grinning. the singular beauty of the grounds " " The ushers ? It's a school, then ? " " My good sir, the terms are simply ab­ " If 'tis, there's a vacancy," responded surd," said the colonel, decisively. the remarkable boy, vrith a second grin. " So I ventured to tell my principal," " Do these ushera receive people who replied Mr. Brodgett, laughing. " But he wish to see the house and grounds? " is a man who hates smaU transactions— "No. They keeps 'n away,",said the petty investments, you know. ' Get me boy. And, pressing his hands on his bulgy four hundred, Brodgett,*. he wrote, * or pockets, as though conscious of something let the owls have it rent-free.' By- contraband, he prowled away. the-by," eontinued the agent, looking " I'll see the agent to-night, at Hatoh- among his papera, "in a letter, received ford," said the colonel, as they regained this very day, he intimates a willingness the carriage. to seU, and that on terms that might suit The neglected mansion had, in truth, you better than a lease. Here it is. I am taken the fancy of both. They could talk almost ashamed to teU you, but he is of nothing else; and, long ere they reached eccentric. For the entire property—^it is Hatchford, had not only made the property freehold, and the house in good repair— their own, but transformed it into a model twelve hundred pounds! " of perfection, wherein art and nature " The price is not exorbitent," owned strove in vain for mastery. the colonel, wishing he might draw a After dinner, the colonel, vrith assumed cheque on the spot. indifference, thought he would stroll down "It is worth thrice the money, sir," to see the agent, Mr. Brodgett. He did growled Mr. Brodgett. "But I must not invite his wife's company, fearing, per- obey ordera." adventure, that her undisguised desire to An JEippointment was made for the next possess the mansion at Holwych might morning to inspect the mansion and somewhat interfere with the bargain he grounds; and the colonel was turning hoped to effect. So he told her she was to leave, when it occurred to him to re­ tired. mark that he underatood the place had Mr. Brodgett, who was stUl at work been recently occupied as a school. in his office, readily forgave the colonel's " School! " said Mr. Brodgett, as if untimely visit, and furnished all needful amazed. information. The "Mansion," as it was " And is left in charge of the ushera.** caUed, of Holwych was untenanted; had "Ushera? H'm. Ushers? Nothing iP ^ X

160 [May 15,1876.] ALL THE YEAR ROUND. [Conducted by

of the sort, sir, I assure you," said the events of which, as you desire it, I wUl agent hastily. • endeavour to give some particulara. " It is of no consequence. No doubt I "We had been in possession about a was misteken," replied the colonel. And, month, during which nothing especial hurrying home, reported to his delighted occurred, except that two of our maids wife the happy issue of his expedition. gave warning, without—so far as I could It was noon next day when they drove perceive—any valid cause, and that Mrs. up the grass-grown sweep, and found Mr. Ketteridge, the housekeeper, begged to be Brodgett awaiting them at the open door of allowed to change her room in the west the mansion. If the exterior were dark wing for one, much inferior, in another and forbidding, it only formed the greater part of the house. But never having—as contrast with the lofty, light, and spacious you may suppose-=^heard of any unac- rooms thrown open to their gratified in­ counteble circumstances in connection spection. Those on the ground-floor, with the house, these incidents merely garden side, were en suite—a noble dining- caused me a momentary surprise. room, drawing-room, billiard, and break­ "The first thing worth recording occurred fast-room, terminating in a conservatory, at the beginning of July. I was sitting, and extending the promenade that might about mid-day, in an open alcove at the be made through the successive apart­ end of the walnut-tree walk, sketching ments to sixty or seventy yards. All the designs for some flower-beds, and, as I windows, save those of the dining-room, well remember, thinking of nothing con­ opened to the ground, giving access to ducive to uneasiness, when I became the lawns and terraces already described. suddenly conscious of an indescribable There was much massive furniture, ap­ sense of panic, such as you might feel parently but little the worse for time; had some frightful scene or object unex­ and as this was to be taken at a valuation, pectedly presented itself to your view. and the house was in all respects ready to Yet I saw nothing, heard nothing, save be occupied, there was nothing to prevent when some sound from the distent village the Eldertons taking possession, as soon as made itself faintly audible through the the legal transfer could be accomplished. stillness of noon. Trying to laugh at the And so zealously did Mr. Brodgett bestir fancy, I bent over my work, when again himself on their behalf, that a very few the panic seized me, and with such force days saw them fairly established, and that my pulse bounded—I felt it—and I already at work on their projected im- hardly dared to lift my eyes, lest they provemente. To the colonel's enjoyment should rest upon some horrible thing, that there was indeed one slight, very slight had noiselessly crept upon me! I did, drawback—the fear that his wife, who had so frankly avowed her dislike of a however, look up, and the quiet sunshine house in which anything unusual had oc­ and the glowing flowers seemed to rebuke curred, should become suddenly apprised my senseless terror. of the alleged visit of the " bloody judge " "' This is too absurd!' I said aloud, and —nay, his possible occupancy of the took up my pencil. But once more I • very chamber they had selected as their seemed to feel the approach' of the fear; own! and, this time, without waiting for it, I jumped from my seat vrith a sort of cry, What foUowed it may be advisable to took to my heels, and never stopped tUl I give in the form of the diary, letters, and arrived breathless in the house! depositions, in which this strange story " I did not, till succeeding events seemed was originally recorded. to give a kind of significance to this " It was in May, 1835," (Mre. Elderton adventure, tell it to my husband. I knew afterwards vrrote to a friend in London) I was a nervous little thing, and that he "that we took up our abode at pretty knew it; and feared that the first result Holwych. Our house, the ' Mansion,' would be a courae of tonics, which I hate." though sombre enough outeide, was the Extract from the diary of Colonel brightest, cheeriest dwelling heart could Elderton, August 6th, 1835.—"It is, desire. The sunshine never seemed to certainly, a singular house! The odd depart from one or other of ite gay well- sounds that, after the residence of only a windowed rooms, until it melted into day or two, I began to hear, become more night. Cuthbert and I were in raptures frequdnt. I have hitherto been able to vrith our purchase—busy as bees, and conceal them from Edith. Yesterday, it little anticipating the strange series of became impossible.

* X + Charles Diokena.] THB HUSHES OF HOLWYCH. [May 15,1876.] 161

"We were sitting in the smaU study, ^* I can scarcely account for the indiffer­t at half-past nine in the evening. The ence with which we got, at last, to regard windows were closed, and the door (lead­ these unusual things. But, growing more ing into the haU) wide open. and more atteched to the place, which was "We were both reading, when we becoming a real Uttle paradise under our distinctly heard slow, measured footeteps hands, we were loath indeed to confess the cross the haU, coming, as it seemed, from reality of anything to ite discredit. It was the dining-room. They stopped at the only when the daytime noises were too study door—then suddenly appeared to loud that we cared to interfere. I have sound more diatant. BOUM were drawn again and again ascribed them to the and undrawn. My vrife, supposing it to servante, and gone upstaira to request be the butler, merely wondered why he them to be more quiet; yet I have found steyed in the haU. Finding, however, that the doora all shut, and no one in the aU was again sUent, I took a candle and rooms, or on the stairs. And yet the examined every room. All was quiet; the noises had made the chandelier vibrate." windows closed and fastened for the night, Colonel Elderton's diary in September : and the doora shut. A servant coming to " But for my little wife's pluck, I would, remove toa, we asked who had been on her account, give up this blessed house moving about the hall, and received for at once. These mysterious doings annoy answer that no one, since nine o'clock, and enrage me. I cannot in the least had quitted the supper table in the divine their source. servante' hall. My w^e, who was sitting " Finding that the sUk-gown rustling beside me on the sofa, nestled a Uttle closer, was of almost nightly occurrence, I laid a but gave no other indication of alarm." trap last night for the intruder, stretohing Mrs. Elderton briefly notices this incident a bit of black sUk right across the passage. in writiog to her friend, then passes on I did this without my wife's knowledge, as to another of a more stertUng character. I knew I should have to keep awake tUl " About two in the morning of the 16th one or two in the morning, and did not August I was aroused by Cuthbert's wish her to share my vigil. sterting up in bed, with the exclamation " A Uttle before two I was conscious of that an attempt was being made upon the the approach of the light pattering step— house ! I entreated him not to go down like that of a woman in slippers—which alone, but to ring first for the butler, who, was always firat heard. Then came the that night, happened to have the pistols. silken rustle, actually brushing our door. We at that time slept in the drab room, ' Now, my lady, we shaU see !' thought I. west wing. Getting quietly up, and softly opening the "I had, myself, heard nothing, being door, with our veUleuse for a lamp, I ascer­ sound asleep; but my husband told me tained that the sUken thread, stretched that the first noise that surprised him was about two feet from the ground, remained the violent shaking of the hall door; then untouched! of the windows of the room below ; after "Sept. 23rd.—HalseweU (the butler) which a voice distinctly said, ' Hush! * the has given warning. He was my best ally, ' sh,' which was much prolonged, being indefatigable in trying to trace out the teken up, like a watchword, by another cause of these alarms. His reason for 'hush,' and that by another, as if the leaving seems insufficient. The servante house were surrounded. The noises there­ ' chaff ' him as to some supposed resem­ upon ceased; and, on examination below, blance between the ghostly footeteps and nothing was found to throw any Hght on his own! He admitted, however, that the disturbance. there was something else, which.he could "During that autumn we frequently never tell me until I had resolved to quit heard footsteps pass our door at night, this residence." sometimes accompanied by the rustling of Mra. Elderton to her friend, in con­ a silken dress; also a noise below, as tinuation : though furniture were being moved about. "In November, after the departure of Invariably, if either of us were awake at our butler, Halsewell, who had been very two or three o'clock, we heard a sound as bold and watehful, the noises increased, of a large chest violently thrown down, and, as the servants declared, with a sort sometimes once, but more frequently two of mocking imitetion. of HalseweU's step, or three times. We tried in vain to detect and manner of opening and closing doors, the origin of this sound. as he moved about the house.

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" One day, at half-past one, while I was word " Hush! " distinct, prolonged, and reading in my dressing-room, having had invariably taken up by voices more and to remain upstairs for a day or two from more distant, till they became inaudible. iUness, I was stertled by hearing people One of these statements, supplied by moving about in a noisy manner on the Louisa Scrase, one of the maids, will serve small landing below; then loud screams. as a specimen:— I rang the bell sharply, then opened the " I was four months under-housemaid door. Nothing was visible; but I heard at Holwych. During the whole time I a voice say, ' Hush—sh,' three several was • annoyed by the strangest disturb­ times, becoming at each repetition more ances. I slept with a fellow-servant distant, and seeming to float away in a above the kitchen. One night, very late, manner which I cannot describe. we heard walking and talking below. It " I think it was on the following night lasted an hour. We did not recognise that I was awakened by a loud noise, as of either step or voice. In the morning I a person walking very heavily on the spoke to the rest about it, but every one landing below, or in one of the adjacent denied having been in the kitchen at all. rooms. I never heard such walking before. They did not tell me (I had not been long It was, so to speak, a giant's walk, and arrived) that the house was said to be seemed to shake the house from one end haunted. After that I became accustomed to the other. We had had for some days to strange noises, but what happened later a policeman in the house at night, and, determined me to leave. rousing my husband, I begged him to call " I was awakened one night by a cold the man! Before he could leave the room, hand touching my face, and, looking up, we heard t]je sound of a desperate struggle saw a very tall figure by my bedside, with on the stairs, as of two men fighting. an arm extended.- I said, 'I will know Feeling sure that our watehman had at what it iSj or I'll raise the house !' when last pounced upon the intruder, Cuthbert the figure moved towards the window and dashed off to his assistance. All was still vanished. My companion saw it also. and empty ! The policeman, whom Cuth­ Next day we were allowed to change our bert met quietly going his rounds, had room, but I was uncomfortable after this, heard no unusual sound." and left." As the disturbances at Holwych con­ Recollecting that the butler, Halsewell, tinued steadily to increase, and had be­ who had left, had offered further testimony come notorious, Colonel Elderton reluc­ in the event of the house being given up, tantly resolved to leave; but, before com­ Colonel Elderton wrote to him, announcing mencing preparations, required from the his intended departure, and received the servants statements of whatever of a statement hereinafter given. But, in the remarkable nature they had severally meantime, the following strange incident noticed. This produced a mass of tes­ occurred to the colonel himself. timony, which, making every deduction He was writing letters in the breakfast- for nervous terrors and exaggeration, has room one forenoon, when a step came along probably no parallel in the history of the passage towards the open door. To " haunted houses " of our time. save the trouble of turning to see who was It should be mentioned that, during the about to enter, he looked in the mirror occupation of the mansion, five servants just opposite, and saw a very tall man, in (the butler, groom, and three maids) had a long yellow coat of some coarse material, left, on divers pretexts, but really—as it and with his hat on, standing in the door­ now appeared—from the perpetual annoy­ way. ance caused by the unaccounteble sounds. " Well, who are you, my man ? What Groans; sighs; footsteps; a noise (con­ do you want here ?" was the natural stantly recurring) like a chUd's rattle; question. doora struck and handles turned; sounds Without reply the man extended his of tossing about boxes and furniture; car­ arm, as pointing to the garden, and, riages driving up the sweep when none striding across the room, passed through were there; rustle of silk; screams; a voice the window (opening to the ground) into heard to say distinctly, " All is true; " and, the garden. finaUy, a sound of very peculiar character, " A cool hand, whoever yOu are ! " ex­ compounded of a hiss and whiz, which claimed the colonel, and, starting up, at was of almost daily occurrence, and, com­ once followed the intruder, whom he was mencing as described, terminated in the on the point of overtaking just as the X f Obarles Dickens.] THE HUSHES OF HOLWYCH. [May 15,1876.] 163 latter turned the angle of a shrubbery, At the question, "HaUo! What's that ?" and entered the avenue pf walnut trees, from the surprised butler, the man turned leading to the alcove before described. round, and came towards him. The butler Hardly a second had elapsed, yet the walk then saw that the visitor appeared to be of was vacant. The man had disappeared ! middle age, had very large blue eyes, and The colonel rubbed his eyes in amaze­ what seemed like a narrow red scarf drawn ment. Up to that moment no idea of the across part of his forehead. Without supernatural had -occurred to him. He pausing for an instent the figure marched had heard the man's step, and observed straight upon his questioner, who mechani­ his features in the mirror (they were those cally extended his arms. To his unutter­ of a young and rather weU-looking man, able amazement, they met with no resist­ with singularly large eyes) ; -and a sus­ ance, and HalseweU, as if awakening from picion, prompted perhaps by the remark­ a dream, found himself standing in the able dress and manner, that he was an middle of the passage alone! escaped lunatic, had crossed the colonel's Notwithstending this incident, the butler mind. There was no place of concealment was reluctent to quit his master's service; close at hand, save the shrubs, which but feeling that his story, if told, would Colonel Elderton immediately examined; either be disbelieved, or, if believed, nor had the gardener, whom he found at greatly increase the alarms and annoyances work near the alcove, been passed by the to which his mistress was exposed, he stranger. finaUy resolved to leave, as mentioned. Returning to the house, the colonel " Hearing mysterious noises; talking of found a letter from his ex-butler, in ghosts, and probably dreaming of them, which, after recapitulating a series of would easUy account for the gentleman in disturbances of the kind already men­ frieze admiring my teble-cloths!" thought tioned, which he had been inclined to the colonel, as he finished the letter. attributo to thieves, untU he found that But on that very day arrived a very not only was his " silver" perfectly safe, singular corroboration, and from a toteUy but everything, to the smallest article, independent source. untouched, the writer dwelt upon the " I had occasion, a day or two since," peculiar whizzing sound that daUy—nay, vrrote a friend to him, " to mention your several times in a day—^passed directly name at a dinner-party. * Is that Elderton, through the room occupied by the ser­ who has taken Holwych Mansion, may I vants. At first bearing some resemblance ask ? ' inquired a stranger who sat near to the passage of a huge bird, though in­ me. ' Yes.' ' I was a former occupant,' visible, it terminated in the distinct pro­ the man resumed, ' and I should much nunciation of the word " Hush! " drawled like, vrith your permission, to ask you a out, and then teken up by another voice, question, at another moment, regarding and another, as a watchword might be its present condition. I have heard that passed along a line of sentries. This your friend has exceUent taste, and the sound—far more than any other—dis­ place was certainly susceptible of im­ turbed the hearers, and it was always provement.' I assented. Later that even­ some minutes before equanimity was re­ ing we had some telk, and the result was stored, and anyone felt disposed to quit the smaU note I now inclose. If, during the room—alone. your residence at Holwych, nothing of a Even against this, however, the butler strange and disturbing nature—^incapable declared his courage would have sup­ of explanation—^has occurred, you are ported him, but for the occurrence he earnestly requested to destroy the note, now, at his late master's request, was uuread; if it has, open and compare a about to relate. former tenant's experience with your A Uttle before dusk, one day late in own." August, he had occasion to pass through The colonel at once adopted the latter a gallery on the basement, leading to the course. The note, passing slightly over servants' hall, at one end of which stood misceUaneous causes of disturbance, gave a mangle, or rather press, for the table­ a concise, but clear, description of the per­ cloths in use. Before this press, as if petual "bushings," and of three several examining it, stood a very taU man, clad appearances of the man in yellow frieze, in a long coat of yeUow frieze, vrith a with the peaked hat and large blue eyes ! narrow peaked hat, from which long fair After this but little time was lost in hair descended on his shoulders. preparation. But it was not without re-

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164 [May 15,1876.] ALL THE YEAR ROUND. [Conducted by gret that the Eldertons turned their backs whom I claim as my husband, is the man on their cheap but uncomfortable paradise. to whom you have referred." " So it was not a school, after all," re­ " He is indeed," said Clement, " and marked the colonel, as they drove away. you have rendered us the most ample "But, as that boy candidly warned us, it service by your disclosure." has its 'ushera! " "Have I indeed," said Lydia, with a What became of the " hushera " after scornful laugh. " Pray do not imagine I the house was pulled down, to make room had any such intention. And so that is for raUway improvements, I do not know; how my husband has been amusing him­ but it is very certain that the Eldertons self since he deserted me; and patient, were the last tenants who ventured to long-suffering nurse Gaynor is Mrs. share Holwych mansion with them. George Heath number two ! He doesn't seem to have been very constent to her either, or she would not be in this A SILENT WITNESS. position." BY EDMUND YATES. "He is a wicked, sinful man," cried AUiHOa or "BLACK SHEEP," "CASTAWAY," ' ' THE YELLOW FLAG," &C. be Grace, indignantly, " bringing misery and shame wherever he goes." BOOK ni. CHAPTER IX. UNSEALED LIPS. "Very Ukely," said Lydia, coolly. "I LTDIA WALTON'S outcry naturally caused never imagined there was much of the the greatest excitement to her three com­ angel about him; but I loved him for all panions. that—loved him with aU my heart and Clement Burton was the first to find his soul; and if, after having cast me off, he tongue. "Do you know what you are had married a rich woman who loved him, saying ?" he exclaimed, in his clear, I would have had my tongue cut out matter-of-fact way; "do you know to before I would have betrayed him, or said whom you are alluding? You proclaim to you half I have." youraelf the wife of George Heath! Who "He must have had some strange is he, and what position does he hold ? " fascination about him, truly," said Clement " It did not strike me that I might have Burton, more to himself than to his com­ made a mistake," said Lydia, somewhat panions. abashed; "the name sounded so famUiar But Lydia caught the words. " ' Fasci­ in my ears, that I spoke out at once, with­ nation !'" she cried; " I suppose you think out thinking. The George Heath who is so, because he gulled your sweet favourite, my husband was a cashier in Middleham's Mrs. Gaynor. Fascination I suppose he Bank, in PhUpot-lane ! " had, or I should never have been as " Tell us about him ?" said Clement, devoted to him as I was—as I am at this vrith a glance at Anne's working features moment. What do the mere name and and tightly-clasped hands. " When did tie of marriage signify to me! I have your marriage take place ? " knocked about in the world, and am not " Years ago, when we were both young, squeamish in such matters." and poor, and happy. Happy for a time," "And it was you then who answered added Lydia, bitterly; " it didn't last long; the advertisement ? " asked Grace. that sort of thing never does, I believe." "Of courae it was. I read it in the " And then you parted from him ? " newspaper that morning when I sent her," asked Clement. pointing to Anne, "out for a walk. I "Not I," said Lydia. "I would have wanted to be alone to think and to act. I stuck to him as long as I lived, though he imagined the advertisement was addressed treatod me Uke a dog, and beat me some­ to me, and probably by him. I thought times. I didn't mind that; I would have he wanted me for some reason, and I remained on; the parting was his- doing— would have gone to him at any time and he left me." at any sacrifice. He has acted like a brute "And what has been your history to me, but there is nothing I would not since ? " asked Grace Middleham, who was do for him even now." encircling Anne with her arms. All this time Anne Studley stood as one " Never mind my history since ! " cried dazed. She knew that the friend from Lydia, fiercely; " that is nobody's business whom she had been so long separated was but my own. This cross-questioning that found at last, and was then standing by you are putting me through, shows that I her side, encouraging and supporting her. vros right in my firat idea. George Heath, She knew that the difference which had

T ^ =f. 6 4 = Charles Dickena] A SILENT WITNESS. [May 15,1876.] 165

parted them had vanished; .that Grace's " and I performed it. I could have done eyes had been opened to the self-deception no less." under which she had laboured; and that " What was this crime of which you the reconcUiation between them was com­ speak ? " asked Clement Burton. " It plete. She knew, above all, from the must have been a serious one, indeed, to strange words which had been spoken, call for such expiation." that the fearful connection into which she " I cannot tell you," said Anne, quickly, had been so vilely betrayed, and which " here and now. I must not say more; but had so long been her misery and shame', the time may come when I can speak was at an end; that the seal of sUence, openly. Ajad," she added, slowly, and which had been so cunningly imposed solemnly raising her eyes and clasping her upon her, was taken off her lips ; and that hands, " I thank Heaven for the revelation, she was, henceforth, a free agent to speak which has set me free to avenge the inno­ and act as^ she thought best. She knew cent blood!" all this, but the sense of relief was yet "To avenge the innocent blood,"repeated wanting; and she remained in a stete of Grace, who-seemed strangely moved. wonderment, listening vaguely, and look­ " Do you talk of vengeance in con­ ing on as one in a dream. nection with George Heath ?" asked She was recaUed to heraelf by the sound Lydia Walton, bending forward eagerly. of Grace's gentle voice. "I reiterate what I said—'to avenge " It was from your father, dear, as I the innocent blood!' There is no bar to told you, that I heard you had become my evidence now. I never was George George Heath's wife; but ho had neither Heath's wife ! " . time nor strength to give me any explana­ These words, spoken in measured and tion of the circumstances under which you thrUling tones, had their effect upon aU were married, and I am stiU whoUy igno­ present, but on no one so quickly and so rant of them." visibly as on Grace Middleham. She, " Has not your friend, Mr. Burton, just usually so calm and unimpressionable, was spoken of the fascination which George obviously overpowered at some suggestion exercised over all with whom he was which, as it appeared to her, was con- brought into contact ? " said Lydia Wal­ teined in Anne's speech; the colour left ton, sneeringly. " I do not see much to her cheeks, her lips quivered, her eyes be wondered at in the fact that this lady— fiUed with tears, and it was only by the whom I must stUl call 'Nurse Gaynor,' strongest self-control that she suppressed for want of knowing her real name—was an attack of hysteria. The cause of this not an exception to the general rule. was the vague sense, just commencing to What astonishes me, I confess, is, that he dawn upon her, that the revelation of the should have chosen her; for George's mystery of her uncle's 'murder was ap­ fancy, at least when I knew him, did not proaching. The shock which that fearful lie at all in the mild and innocent Une." crime had brought upon her at the time of " I did not become Mr. Heath's wife of ite commission had, it is true, long since my own accord," said Anne, slowly turn­ subsided, but she had never been able to ing towards her friend, and ignoring the think of the dreadful deed without a last speaker. "The marriage was forced shrinking horror, and had always Uved upon me." under the idea that, at some time or other, " By whom ? " asked Grace, tonderly. the perpetratora of it would be discovered. " Both by my father and Mr. Heath," The conviction of Heath's viUainy con­ " Ah, yes," said Grace ; " I remember veyed by Anne's words had instently sug­ your telling me that Captein Studley and gested this idea; and now that she was, as Mr. Heath were impUcated together in she imagined, on the brink of the revela­ various mattera." tion which she had so long and earnestly "They had been so for yeara," said desired, she felt she would have given Anne; " and it was to save them from the much to postpone it untU a more fitting consequences of the crime in which they opportunity. were both involved, and which I had wit­ It is not to be supposed that Clement nessed, that I consented to this union." Burton had not watehed with the deepest " And thereby sacrificed your happiness, interest the strange scene passing before your peace of mind, and the best portion his eyes, and in his clear-headed, common- of your life," said Grace, embracing her. sense way, made up his mind as to the " It was my duty," said Anne, simply. right course to be pursued. That Lydia

v^ X

166 [May 15.1876.] ALL THE YEAR ROUND. [Conducted hy

Walton was fiery, impracticable, and im­ " You are a good sort, and though I spoke patient, he had known since the commence­ out just what came into my mind, and ment of his attendance on her; but in her stick to all that I said", I am not one to replies to Anne, and her comments in the bear maUce for anything that you did, not converaation carried on before her, she had knowing what you were doing, and under shown a depth of devotion to her brutel a certain amount of pressure too, as it husband, ahd a power of sneering opposi­ seems. You go with your friend; I shaU tion to those arrayed against him, of get along all right, I daresay." neither of which he had imagined her " And you are a ' good sort' too, as you capable. It vro-s obvious that all her phrase it," said Clement Burton, smiling, forces, such as they were, would be inar- his eyes beaming with pleasure at her shalled to the advancement of Heath's words, "though somewhat difficult to cause and the detriment of his enemies; manage; but you require attention still, and, therefore, the less she heard of their and cannot be left alone just yet, though I counsels, the less she was mixed up with think it better that nurse Gaynor—the any steps which Anne's discovery of her old name is easier for both of us—should newly-acquired freedom might impel her have some relief and rest after the excite­ to teke, the better. The one thing to be ment she has gone through. I suggest, done was to part these women at once, therefore, that she should go away with and with him remained the duty of ac­ Miss Middleham, as that" lady proposes, complishing the task. Miss Middleham, and I will make arrangements for sending too, must be thought of. Clement Bur­ some one to take care of you." ton's ever-watchful eyes had observed her " Just as you please," said Lydia Wal­ excitement, and the difficulty she had in ton, after a thoughtful pause ; " though, suppressing more marked signs of it; and after nurse Gayjior, I shaU find any one he knew that the best chance of keeping else precious awkward and uncomfortable, her quiet was to give her emotions an outlet, I can tell you. I think I might get on in confidential converaation with her long- well enough by myself; but, of course, lost friend. you know best." " I think," said he, taking advantege of " Be it so, then," said Clement. " Your the pause which occurred, "that it will be carriage is at the door," he added, turning better this discussion should be deferred. to Grace, " and your friend can go home I need scarcely tell you, Mrs. Walton, with you. I will come to the Hermitage when I promised to bring to you the later on in the day." unknown ' G. M.' whom you so ardently " This meeting has had a very different desired to see, that I was unaware of the ending to that I had anticipated," said identity of Mrs, Gaynor, or of her con­ Grace to Lydia Walton; "but assuredly nection with the story which has been the interest which Mr. Burton's account told. I, of course, knew that this lady. of you had inspired in me has not Miss Middleham, had inserted the adver­ been decreased by all I have heard. I tisement to which you responded, and, in hope I may yet be able to serve you; I her interest, was desirous to hear what shaU always be ready to do so." you had to say. That has now been said " I am much obliged to you, I am sure," with the result we have seen, and what­ said Lydia, with strongly marked indiffer­ ever explanations are to be made must be ence. " I know you mean to be kind; but made separately." I have my own business to attend to, and " I must take Anne away with me, if it is not likely we shall see much of each you please," pleaded Grace, in a low voice; other. And good-bye to you, nurse Gay­ " having once found her, I cannot give her nor ; I am in your debt for all sorts of up for a long time; I have so much to attention. I wish I was not; or, rather, I hear, and so much to say." wish you had not come between me and "You shall do so, certainly," said the man whom—^whom I am still fool Clement Burton, "if she consents, of enough to care for. However, that cannot which, I suppose, there is little doubt." be helped, and so good-bye." "I must not forget my patient, Mr. Thus they took their leave, Anne Stud­ Burton," said Anne, "gladly though I ley bending over her quondam patient and would go vrith Grace; but Mra. Walton is gently kissing her forehead, a salute which not in a stete to be left alone, and my first Lydia received vrith a stere and a shoulder- duty is to her." shrug of wonder, though, at the same time, "Don't you trouble about me, nurse the tears rose unbidden to her eyes. Mr. Gaynor," said Lydia Walton, quickly. Burton accompanied the ladies to their =iPI Charlee Dickens.] A SILENT WITNESS. [May 15,1876.] 167 carriage; when he returned, he found " ' Pond Cottege '—'Loddonford,* " she Lydia Walton in a very different stete from said, repeating the names. " How do you that m which he had left her; all the get there ? " ferocity, all the hardness, all the vulgar " By the Great Western RaUway," he swagger were gone; in their place was a repUed. " I wiU vmte down the address passionate earnestness such as she had for you." But, as he did so, he looked up never yet exhibited. " That's aU right," suddenly, and said, " Look here, Lydia, I she said, pointing to him to seat himself have done what you asked ; but you must in the chair next to hers. " Now we are promise me that you wiU not take ad­ alone together, and can talk like people vantege of my compliance by writing to who nnderatand each other, and have seen him, or by taxing your strength in any the world and its ways. Those two girls way." know nothing of life, and could not be ex­ "What harm would there be in my pected to; for, whatever they think, they writing to him ? " she said. have had no real experience. ^line has "Harm to him, as weU as to you. been pretty extensive, and it leads me to Though this excitement has given to you think that you won't refuse to do what I a seeming flicker of strength, you are am going to ask you." physically much below par, and wholly " And what is that ? " he said, quietly. incapable of any real exertion." " To teU me where I can fijid my hus­ " Never mind me; what about him ? " band, George Heath. He is my husband, "From all I can hear, he is very you know—there is no doubt about that; seriously Ul, aged in appearance, and and the estabUshment of that fact seems broken in spirit. He lives entirely alone, to get our sweet friend Gaynor out of her not occupying himself in any way, and pretty mess, though one cannot teU exactly is said, bodily and mentelly, to be a com­ what it is. Now you, who take such an plete wreck—a mere shadow of his former interest in her, ought to be grateful to me self." on that account, and do anything I ask " Is that so ? " she said, with a twitch­ you." ing of her nether lip. " Poor f eUow ! poor "I vrill do anything I can to help you," feUow! " said Clement Burton. " We wUl not dis­ " So you understand," said Clement cuss the why and the wherefore, but I Burton, rising, " that my injunctions are will do it." stiict upon you not to attempt to exert " Tell me, then, if you know anything yourself, even in so much as by writing a of George, and what ? " she said, eagerly. letter. Do you consent ? " "I have tolerably lato information of " Needs must when—you know the rest him," said Mr. Burton. " He became of the proverb," she said, with a short manager at Middleham's Bank, in which laugh; "not that you are like that, or you knew him only as cashier. That like anything but a most kind, good position he held for some years, but re­ fellow, a real friend to me through aU this signed a few months since." weary, dreary time. There," she said, " What made him resign ? " she asked. makmg a sudden dash at his fingers with " It was not like George to throw away a her lips, " I do not think I ever kissed a good thing unless he got a better." man's hand before." " So said the people in the City," re­ " And you should never have done so marked Clement; " but he kept his reasons now if I had seen your intention," he said, to himself. The only thing known of him laughing and blushing. " Now I wiU go ; was, that he resigned; and, instead of I wUl look in at St. Vitus's on my way, teking any other appointment, or occupy­ and select the best sister possible to re­ ing himself on his own account, he took a place Mra. Graynor. She shaU come on duty trip to the Continent, where he remained before nightfaU, and in the meanwhUe I travelling for some months. Quite recently will speak to your landlady, to have you he returned to England, and is living in looked after untU the nurae comes." retirement." "AU right," she said, half carelessly, " Where? " she asked, eagerly. " Do you " that vriU do very weU. Mrs. Frost un- know the address ? Is it far away ? " deratends me and my ways, and can give " It is at a place called Loddonford," he m.e whatever I want." said; "a viUage on the Thames, about " Good nighst, then," said Clement Bur­ twenty-five mUes from London. He Uves ton ; " I shall look in to-morrow morning, there in a lone house, known as Pond and hope to find you none the worse for the Cottage." excitement which you have gone through." X

=?3 168 ALL THE YEAR ROUND. [May 15,1875.]

She watched him out, and even when her, and seated herself cozily at the table the door had closed behind him continued with the bottle of port and a glass at her looking in the same direction. " Find me side. She was a gossiping kin'd of woman, better ! " she repeated, in a softened voice; who always had a great deal to say, and "you wiU not find me at all, my kind at flrst her volubility was increased by the friend—^you wUl never look upon me again. wine which Lydia pressed upon her. That is a sad thought, for you have been Gradually, however, her eyes grew glazed, a good fellow to me, but all my energies her voice husky and indistinct, and after a are now required for one whom I love dearer few feeble attempts at maintaining con­ than my life. That Gaynor woman, or sciousness, she dropped into a stertorous whatever her name is, has a tell-tale face, sleep. and I read it like a book; she could not hide her plans from me. She talked about There was an epidemic very generally vengeance—' avenging the innocent blood,' prevalent in London about that time, and she said. I do not know what she means the services of hospital nurses were in by that; but I do know—I felt in an in­ great request. Mr. Burton had some diffi. stant—that it was my George who is culty in flnding a sister to attend to his threatened. He has Ul-treated her as he Bloomsbury patient, and he was not par­ did me, and it is upon him that her ticularly satisfied with the one he at last vengeance is to fall; but I will thwart her secured—a dull, heavy woman—but the yet. I will go to this address which I got best he could find. It was late in the from Mr. Burton, and though George may evening before this nurse arrived at her be ill and broken, he 'will Ijiave strength new quarters, where the door was opened enough for his own preservation, and will to her by a slatternly, slip-shod girl, the be able to get away before the hue and very model of a lodging-house servant. cry is after him. I wonder whether he will believe me; will appreciate the " I am glad you are come," said this danger in which he stends and fly at little marchioness, after the nurae had ex­ once ; or whether he will think it is either plained her business; " for missus is tight, a trick or weakness on my part, and refuse and I am all alone in the house with her." to budge ? If so, his blood be on his own " All alone ? " repeated the nurse. head; at all events, I must make an effort." " Why, where is Mrs. Walton ? " " Oh, she went away more than two She pulled the bell attached to her chair, hours ago, in a cab which I fetched for and awaited the advent of the landlady. her. I had an awful job in getting her Mrs. Frost was all smUes and giggles. down the stairs and helping her in; but I "I was expecting your summons, my managed it, somehow. I expected her dear," she said, " and in two minutes back before this ; she said she should not more I should have, been up without it; be gone more than half an hour." for that delightful doctor of yours—what " She wUl be in soon,then, I suppose?" an elegant young man he is!—looked into said the nurse, quietly. " I will go up to the parlour as he passed,* and told me her room, if you will show me the way, nurse Gaynor had gone away, and that, as and wait there." the other sister might be some time in The next morning, when Clement Bur­ coming, he would like me to come and sit ton arrived early, he learned that Mrs. with you." Walton had gone out, and had not come " That is right, Mrs. Frost," said Lydia back all night. Rushing hastily upstairs, Walton, "you are better company than and throwing open the door, he found the any of the nurses or sisters—or whatever nurae calmly knitting, and waiting the they call themselves; you are one of the return of her patient with stolid, unruffled right sort, and so am I, and you and I composure. know how to enjoy ourselves, which those poor creatures do not. Here, take the key, Now ready, price 5s. 6d., bound ui green cloth, and help yourself to a glass of the old particular." THE THIRTEENTH VOLUME Mrs. Frost, with another giggle and the OP THE NEW SERIES or nearest attempt at a blush which she ALL THE YEAR: ROUND. could command, took the key proffered To be had of all Booksellers.

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