"THE STORY OF OUR LIVES FROM YEAE TO YEAR.'—SHAKESPEARE. ALL THE YEAR ROUND. A WEEKLY JOUKNAL. CONDUCTED BY CHARLES DICKENS. WITH WHICH IS INCORPOEATED HOUSEHOLD WORDS.

470.] SATURDAY, APRIL 25, 1863. [PKICE id.

wlielmmg flow of trousers wbich had quite THE MOONSTONE. prostrated our little community, he had ar­ TTMAninoBOF "THE WOMAS E« WHITB," &C &C. ranged to take coffee in Montagu Square, and to go to a ball afterwards ! The afternoon of the next day had beeu selected for the Festival BCCHD PERIOD. THE DISCOVEHV OP THE of tlie British-Ladies'-Servauts'-Suuday-Sweet- TRUTH. (1848—18^9.) heart-Supcrvision-Socicty. Instead of being CHAPTER IV. (CONTINUED). present, the life and soul of that struggUng In­ I OCCUPIED the parlour floor, at that period stitution, he liad engaged to make oue of a my residence iu Londou. The front parlour party of worldlings at a morniug concert! I s my sitting-room. Very small, very low in asked myself. What did it mean? j\las! it } ceiling, very poorly furnished—but, oh, somean t that our Christian Hero was to reveal xt! Ilooked into the passage to see whicii himself to nie in a new character, and to become Lady Verinder's servants had asked for me. associated in my mind with one of the most was the yonng footman, Samuel—a civil awful backslidings of modern times. ah-colonred person, with a teachable look To return, however, to tbe liisioiy of the d a very obliging manuer. I had always felt passing day. On iindine myself alone in my spiritual interest in Samuel, and a wish to room, I naturally turned my attention to the ' hun with a few serious words. Ou this parcel which appeared to have so strangely in­ casion, I invited him Into my sitting-room. timidated the fresh-coloured young footman. He came in, with a large parcel under lus Had my aunt sent me my promised legacy ? and n. When he put the parcel down, it ap- had it takeu the form of cast-oif clothes, or ared to frighten him. " My lady's love, worn-out silver spoons, or unfashionable jewelry, iss; and I was to say that you would fiud a or anything of that sort ? Prepared to accept ter inside." Having given that message, the all, and to resent uothing, I opened tbe parcel— ;sh-coloured young footman surprised me by and what met my view ? The twelve precious )king as if be would have liked to run away. ublications wbich I had scattered through the I detauied him to make a few kind inquiries, Eouse, ou the previous day ; all returned to aid I see my aunt, if I called in Montagu me by the doctor's orders! Well might the uare ? No : she had gone out for a drive. youtbful Samuel shrink wlien he brought his 185 Rachel had gone with her, and Mr. Ablc-parcel into my room! Well might he fly lite had taken a seat in the carriage too. when he had performed his miserable errand! lowujghow sadly dear Mr. Godfrey's charl- As to my aunt's letter, it simply amounted, )le work was in arrear, I thought it oddpoo r soul, to this—that she dare not disobey it he should be going out drivmg, like her medical man. idle man. I stopped Samuel at the door, What was to be done now? With my train­ 1 made a few more kind inquiries. Miss ing and my principles, I never had a moment's «hel was going to a ball that night, and doubt. \ Ablewhite had arranged to come to coffee, Once self-supported by conscience, ouee cm- i go with her. There was a morning barked on a career of manifest usefulness, the icert advertised for to-morrow, and Samuel true Christiau never yields. Neither public nor 3 ordered to take places for a large party, private influences produce the slightest efi'ect ludmg a place for Mr. Ablewhite. "All the on us, when we liave once got our mission. tets may be gone, Miss," said this innocent Taxation may be the consequeuce of a mission; ith, "if I don't run and get them at once!" riots may be the consequence of a mission; wars may be the consequence of a mission: ran as he said the words—and I found my- we go ou with our work, irrespective of every [ alone again, with some anxious thoughts to human consideration which moves tbe world |npy me. outside us. We are above reason; we are fv e had a special meeting of the Mothers' beyond ridicule; we see with nobody's eyes, all-Clothes-Conversiou Society, that uight, we hear with nobody's ears, wc feel with no­ imoned expressly with a view to obtaining body's hearts but our own. Glorious, glorious .Godfrey's advice and assistance. Instead privilege! And how is it earned!' Ah, my sustaining our sisterliood, under an over-

470 •^

45S [April 2i, 18i;S.l ALL THE YEAR ROUND [Condncted by friends, you may spare yourselves the useless leaving it to attract her curiosity, by means of inquiry ! Wc are the only people who can earn its solitary position, apart from the rest. A it — for we are the only jieople who are always second letter I put pm-posclj on the flootin the right. breakfast-room. Tlie first servant wlio went in In the case of my misguided aunt, the form after me would' conclude that my aunt had which pious )>ersevcraucc was uext to take droj^d it, and would be specially careful to revealed itself to me plainly enough. restore it to her. The field thus sown on the Preparation by clerical friends had failed, basement story, I ran lightly up-stairs fo scatter owing to Lady Verinder's own reluctance. Pre­ my mercies next over the drawing-room floor. paration by books had failed, owing to the doc­ Just as 1 entered the front room, I heard tor's iufidei obstinacy. So bcit! What was the a double kuock at the street-door—a soft, flut­ next thiug to try ? The next thing to try was— tering, considerate little knock. Beforelcould Prcparaiiou by Litllc Notes. In other words, the think of slipping back to the library (in which books theraselves having been sent back, select I was supposed to be waiting), the active young extracts from the books, copied by different footman was in the hall, answering the door. hands, aud all addressed as letters to my aunt, It mattered little, as I thought. In my aunfs were, some to be sent by post, and some to bc state of health, visitors in general were not distributed about the house on the plan I had admitted. To my horror and amazement, the adopted on the previous day. As letters tbey performer of the soft little knock proved to would excite no suspicion; as letters ihey would be an exception to general rules, Samuel's be opcued—and, once opened, might be read. voice below me (after apparently answering Someof them 1 wrote myself. " Dear aunt, may some questions which I did not hear) said, I ask yoni" attention to a few lines ?" &c. " Dear unmistakably, " Up-stairs, if you please, su." aunt, I was reading last night, audi chanced on The next moment I heard footsteps—a man's the following passage," &c. Other letters were footsteps—approaching the drawing-room floor. written for me, by my valued fellow-workers, the Who could this favoured male visitor possibly sisterhood attheMotliers' Small-Clot hes. "Bear be? Almost aa soon as I asked myself the madam, pardon the interest taken in you by a question, the answer occurred to me. Who true, though humble, friend." " Dear madam, could it be but the doctor? may a serious person surprise you by saying a In the case of any other visitor, I should lew cheering words r"" Using these aud other have allowed myself to be discovered m the similar forms of courteous appeal, we reintro­ drawing-room. There would liave been no- duced all my precious passages under a form thing out of the common in my havmg got fired which not even the doctor's watchful materialism of the library, and haviug gone up-stairs for a could suspect. Before the shades of evening change. But my own self-respect stood m the had closed around us, I had a dozen awakening way of my meeting the person who had insulted letters for my aunt, instead of a dozen awaken- me by sending mc back my books. I sUpped ing books. Six I made iinmedlate arrange­ into the little third room, whidi I have mai- ments for sending through the post, and six I tloued as communicating with the back draw­ kept in my pocket for personal distribution in ing-room, and dropped the curtains whicii the house the next day. closed the open doorway. If I only waited Soou after two o'clock I was again on the there for a minute or two, the usual result m field of pious coufllct, addressing more kind such cases would take place. That is to aay, inquiries lo Samuel at Lady Veriuder's door. the doctor wonld be conducted to his patient's My aunt had had a bad night. She was room. again iu the room in wliich 1 had witnessed her I waited a minute or two, and more than a Will, restmg on the sofa, and trying to get a minute or two. I heard the visitor wallaug little sleep. I said I would wait "in the library, restlessly backwards and forwards. I also on the chauce of seeing her. In the fervour of heard him talking to himself. I even thought my zeal to distribute the letters, it never oc­ I recognised the voice. Had I made a mis­ curred to mc to uiquirc about Rachel. The take ? Was it not tbe doctor, but somebody hou.se was quiet, aud it was past the hour at else? Mr. Bruff, for instance? No! an un­ which the musical pcrfonnance began. I took erring instinct told me it was not MT. Bruff. it for granted that she and her party of pleasure- Whoever he was, he was still talking to him­ seekers {Mr. Godfrey, alas! included) were all self. I parted the heavy curtains the least at the concert, and eagerly devoted myself to little morsel in the world, and listeued. my good work, while time and opportunity Tbe words I heard were, " I'll do it to-day!" were still at my owu disposal. And tho voice that spoke them waa Mr. Godfrey My aniit's correspondence of the moruing Abiewhite's. ^ —including the six awakening letters which I CHAPTER V. had posted overniglit—was lying unopened on MT hand dropped from the curtara. But the library table. She had evidently not felt don't suppose—oh, don't suppose—thai the herself equal to dealing with a large mass of dreadful embarrassment of my situation was letters—and she mlgia be daunted by the tho uppermost idea in my mind! So fer­ number of them, if she entered the li'orary vent still was the sisterly interest I felt in Mr. later in the day. I put oue of my second set Godfrey, that I never stopped to ask myself of six letters ou the chimney-piece by itself;, why he was not at tlie ccHicert. No! I thoaglifc , ^*^ -^

Jtutioi Dickens.] ALL THE YEAR ROUND. [April 25, ISfi.^.] .j-Sg liy of the words—the startling words—which are almost strangers to you. But, why uot id just fallen from his lips. He would do it have gone with them to the concert ? It seems -day! He had said, in a tone of terrible reso- very hard that you should miss the music, too." tlon, he wonld do It to-day. What, oh what, " Dou't say tbat, Rachel! If you only knew ould he do! Soraething even more deplorably how much happier I am—here, with you!" iworthy of him than what he had done al- He clasped his hands, and looked at her. Tn ady? Would he apostatise from the faith? the positiou which he occupied, when he did fould he abandon us at the Mothers' Sniall- that, he turned my way. Can words describe lothes ? Had wc seen the last of his angelic how I sickened when I noticed exactly the same aile in the committee-room ? Had we heard pathetic expression on his face, which had le last of his unrivalled eloquence at Exeter chanued me when he was pleading for destitute iall? I waa so wrouE;ht up by the bare idea of millions of his fellow-creatures on the plulibrm ich awful eventualities as these. In connexion at Exeter Hall! ith such a man, that I believe I should have " It's hard to got over one's bad habits, God­ fflhed from my place of concealment, and im-frey. But do try to get over the habit of paying Lored him in the name of all the Ladies' compliments—do to please me." ommittees in London to explain himself—• "I never paid you a coinpllment, Rachel, in hen I suddenly heard another voice in the my life. Successful love may sometimes use Hmi. It penetrated through the curtains; it the language of flattery, T admit. Rut hopeless as loud, it was bold, it waa wanting in every love, dearest, always speaks the truth." male charm. The voice of Kachel Verinder.' He drew his chair close, and took her hand, "Why have vou come up here, Godfrey?" when he said " hopeless love." There was a u asked. " "tVhy didn't you go into tbe momentary silence. He, who thrilled every­ hrtry?" body, had doubtless thrilled her. I thougliL"l He laughed softly, and answered, "Miss now understood the words whicb had dropped lack is in the library." from him when he was alone in the drawing- "CUck in the library!" She instantly seated roora. " I'll do it to-day." Alas! the most erself on the ottoman in the back d.rawiug- rigid propriety could hardly have failed to dls- wm. "You are quite right, Godfrey. We coiTer that bc was doing It now. id much better stop here." " Have you forgotten what wc agreed on, I had been in a burning fever, a moment Godfrey, when you spoke to nic iu the country ? noe, and in some doubt what to do next. I be- We agreed that we were to be cousins, and une extremely cold uow, and felt no doubt nothing more." hatever. To show mvself, after what I had " I break the agreement, Rachel, every tune Bard, waa impossible. To retreat—except into I see you." le fireplace—was equally out of the question. "Then dou't see rae." . martyrdom was before me. In justice to " Quite useless! I break tbe agreement every lyself, I noiselessly arranged the curtains so time I think of you. Oh, Rachel! bow kindly lat 1 conld both see aud hear. And theu I you told me, only the other day, tbat my place et my martyrdom, iu the spirit of a primi- in your estimation was a higher place rbau it ve Christian. had ever been yet! Am I mad to build the "Don't sit on the ottoman," the young lady hopes I do on those dear words ? Am 1 mad to roceeded. "Bring a chair, Godfrey. I like dream of some future day when your heart may jople to be opposite to me when I talk to soften to me? Don't tell me so, if I am! lem." Leave me my delusion, dearest! I must have He took the nearest seat. It was a low thai to cherish, and to comfort me, if I have lair. He was very tall, and many sizes too nothing else!" i^ for it. I never saw his legs to such dis- Hia voice trembled, and he put his white ivantage before. handkerchief to his eyes. Exeter Hall again ! " Well ?" she went on. " What did you say Nothing wanting to complete the parallel but I them ?" the audience, the cheers, and the glass of "Just what you said, dear Rachel, to me." water. "That mamma waa not at all well to-day ? Evcu her obdurate nature was touched. I nd that I didn't quite like leaving her to go saw her lean a little nearer to him. I heard a I the concert ?" new tone of interest in her next words. "Those were the words. They were grieved " Are you really sure, Godfrey, that you are < lose you at the concert, but they quite so foud of me as that ?" iderstood. All sent their love ; and all ex- " Sure! You know what I was, Rachel. Let •essed a cheering belief that Lady Verinder's me tell you what I am. I have lost every inte­ diroosition would soon pass away." rest in life, but my mterest in you, A transfor­ **iou dou't think it's serious, do you, God- mation has come over mc which I can't By P' account for, myself. Would you believe it? " I'ar from it! In a few days, I feel quite My charitable busmess Is an unendurable ire, aU will be well again." nuisance to me; and when I sec a Ladles' Com­ "Ithink ao, too. I was a little frightened at mittee now, I wish myself at the uttermost ends rt, but I think so too. It was very kind to of the earth!" r-and make my excuses for me to people who If the annals of apostacy offer anything com- _^ ^yL 4G0 [April 2.% ISCS.] ALL THB YEAR ROUND. [CoDdacted tt7 parable to such a declaration aa that, I can only "Yes?" say tbat the case in point is not producible "And, suppose, in spite of all that—you from the stores of my reading. I thought of couldn't tear lier from your heart ? Suppose the Mothers' Small-Cilothes. I thought of the tbe feeling she had roused in you (in the time Sunday-Sweetbeart-Supervision. I thought of when you believed in her) was a feelmg not the other Societies, too numerous to mention, to be bidden ? Suppose the love this wretch all built up on this man as on a tower of strength. bad inspired in you ? Oh, how can I I thought of the struggling Female Boards, find words to say it in! How can I make who, so to speak, drew the breath of their a man understand that a feeling which horrifies business-hfe tlirough the nostrils of Mr. God­ mc at myself, can be a feeling that fascinates me frey—of that same Mr. Godfrey who had just at the same time ? It's the breath of my life, reviled our good work as a " nuisance"—and Godfrey, and it's tbe poison that kills me—both just declared that he wished he was at the in one ! Go away! I must be out of my mind uttermost ends of the earth when he found to talk as I am talking now. No! you mustn't himself in our company! My young female leave mc—vou mustn't carry away a wrong im­ friends will feel encouraged to persevere, when pression. 1 must say, what is to be said in my I mention that it tried even my discipline own defence. Mind this ! Be doesn't know— before I could devour my own righteous indigna­ he never will know, what I have told you. I tion in silence. At the same time, it is only jus­ will never see him—I don't care what happens tice to myself to add, that I didn't lose a syllable —I will never, uever, never see him agam! of the conversation. Rachel was the next to Don't ask me his name! Don't ask me any more! Let's change the subject. Are you ' You liave made your confession," she said. doctor enough, Godfrey, to tell nie why I feel "I wonder whether it would cure you of your as if I was stifling for want of breath ? Is there unhappy attachment to me, if I made mine ?" a form of hysterics that bursts into words in­ He started. I confess I started too. He stead of tears ? I dare say! What does it thought, and I thonght, that she was about to matter? You will get over any trouble I have divulge the mystery of the Moonstone. caused you, easily enough now. I have dropped "Would you think, to look at me," she went to my right place in your estimation, havn't I ? on, "that i am the wretchedest girl living? Don't notice me! Don't pity me! Por God's It's true, Godfrey, What greater wretchedness sake, go away!" can there be than to live degraded in your own She turned round on a sudden, and beat her estimation ? That is my life now." bands wildly on the back of tbe ottoman. Her " My dear Rachel! it's impossible you can head dropped on tbe cushions; and she burst have any reason to speak of yourself in that way!" out crying. Before I had time to feel shocked " How do you know I have no reason?" at this, 1 was horror-struck by an entirely un­ " Can you ask me the question ! I know it, expected proceeding on the part of Mr. God­ because I know you. Your silence, dearest, frey. Will it be credited that he fell on his has never lowered you in the estimation of your knees at her feet ?—on both knees, I solemnly true friends. Tbe disappearance of your pre­ declare! May modesty mention that he put cious birthday gift may seem strange ; your his arms round her next ? And may reluctant unexplained connexion with that event may admiration acknowledge that he electrified her seem stranger still " with two words ? "Are you speaking of the Moonstone, God­ "Noble creature!" frey ?" No more than that! But he did it with one "I certainly thought that you referred " of the bursts which have made his fiime as a " I referred to notbing of the sort. I can public speaker. She sat, either quite thunder­ hear of the loss of the Moonstone, let who will struck, or quite fascinated—I don't know speak of it, without fceling degraded in my owu which — without even making an effort to estimation. If tbe story of the Diamond ever put his arms back where his arms ought io comes to light, it will be known that I accepted nave been. As for me, my sense of propriety a dreadful responsibility ; it wUl be known that was completely bewildered. I was so painfully I involved myself in the keeping of a miserable uncertain whether it was my first duty to close secret—but it will be as clear as tbe sun at my eyes, or to stop my ears, that I did neither. noonday that I did nothing mean ! You have I attribute my beiug still able to hold the misunderstood me, Godfrey. It's my fault for curtain In tbe right position for looking and not speaking more plainly. Cost me what it listening, entirely to suppressed hysterics. In may, I will be plainer now. Suppose you were suppressed hvsterics, it is admitted, even, by not iu_ love with mc ? Suppose you were in the doctors, tliat one must bold something;. love with some other woman ?" " Yes," lie said, with all the fascination of "Yes?" bis evangelical voice and manner, "you are a " Suppose you discovered that woman to be noble creature! A woman who can speak the utterly unworthy of you ? Suppose you were truth, for the truth's own sake—a woman who quite convinced that itwas a disgrace to you to will sacrifice her pride, rather than sacrifice an waste another thought on her? Suppose the honest man who loves her—Is the most priceless bare idea of ever marrying such a person raade of all treasures. Wheu such a woman marries, your face burn, ouly with thinking of it P" if her husband only wins her esteem and r^^d, ^ durlOB Dickens.] ALL THE YEAR ROUND. [April 25,186S.] 461 le wins enough to emioble his whole life. You " Gently, Godfrey! you are puttmg some­ lave spoken, dearest, of your place iu my estl- thing into my head which I never thought of aation. Judge what that place is—when I before. You are temptmg me with a new pros­ mplore you on my knees, to let the cure of pect, when all my other prospects are closed rour poor wounded heart be my care. llachel! before me. I tell you again, I am miserable rUl you honour me, will you bless me, by being enough and desperate enough, if you say an­ oy wife P" other word, to marry you ou your own terms. By tins time I should certainly have decided Take the warning, and go!" ai stopping my ears, if llachel had not encou- " I won't even rise from my knees, till you aged me to keep them open, by answering him have said yes!" n the first sensible words I had ever heard fall " If I say yes you will repent, and I shall rom ber lips. repent, when it is too late I" " Godfrey !" she said, " you must be mad!" " We shall both bless the day, darling, wheu "I never spoke more reasonably, dearest—in I pressed, and when you yielded." ^our interests, as well as in mine. Look for a " Do you feel as confidently as you speak?" noment tothe future. Is your happiness to be " You shall judge for yourself. I speak from jacrificed to a man who has never known bow you what I have seen in my own family. TcU me Feel towards him, and whom you are resolved what you think of our household at*Prizinghall. never to see again ? Is it not your duty to your­ Do ray father and mother live unhappily to­ self to forget this Ql-fated attachment? and is gether ?" forgetfulness to be found iu the life you are " Far from it—so far as I cau see." leading now ? Yon have tried that life, and you " When my mother was a girl, Racbel (it is no ire wearying of it already. Surround yourself secret in the family) she had loved as you love srith nobler Interests than the wretched in- —she had ^Iveu her heart to a man who was teRsts of the world. A heart that loves and unworthy ol her. She married my father, re­ honours you; a home whose peaceful claims specting him, admiring him, but nothing more. and happy duties win gently ou you day by Your own eyes have seen the result. Is there day—try the consolation, llachel, which is to no encouragement in it for you and for me ?"* be found/^tfre.' I don't ask for your love—I " You won't hurry me, Godfrey?" nriU be content with your afl'ection and regard. " My time shall be yours." Let the rest be left, confidently left, to your " You won't ask me for more than I can husband's devotion, and to Time that heals even give ?" wounds as deep as yours." *' My angel! I only ask you to give me She began to yield already. Oh, what a yourself." bringmg-up she must have had ! Oh, how dif­ " Take me!" ferently I should have acted in her place ! In those two words, she accepted him! "Don't tempt me, Godfrey," she said; "I He had another burst—a burst of unholy am wretched enougli and reckless euough as it rapture this time. He drew her nearer aud is. Don't tempt me to be more wretched aud nearer to him till her face touched his; and more reckless still!" then No! I really cannot prevail upon rayself "One question, Rachel. Have you any per­ to carry this shocking disclosure auy farther. sonal objection to me ?" Let me only say, that I tried to close my eyes " I! I always liked you. After what you before it happened, aud that I was just one have just said to me, I should be insensible in­ moment too late. I bad calculated, you see, deed if I didn't respect and admire you as well." ou her resisting. She submitted. To every "Doyou know many wives, my dear Rachel, right-feeling person of ray own sex, volumes who respect and admire their husbands ? And could say uo more. yet tbey and their husbands get ou very well. Even my innocence in such matters began to How raany brides go to the altar with hearts see its way to the end of tbe interview now. that would bear inspection by the men who Tbey understood each other so thoroughly by take them there ? And yet it doesu't end un­ tliis time, that I fully expected to see them happily—somehow or other the nuptial estab­ walk off' together,, arm in arm, to bc married. lishment jogs on. The truth is, that women There appeared, however, judging by Mr. God­ try marriage as a Refuge, far more numerously frey's next words, to be one more trifling Lhau they are willing to admit; and, what is formality which it was necessary to observe. more, they find that marriage has justified their He seated himself—unforbidden this time—• jonfidence in it. Look at your owu case once ou the ottoman by her side. " Shall I speak to igain. At your age, and with your attractions, your dear mother ?" he asked. " Or will is it possible for you to sentence yourself to you ?" I single life? Trust my knowlecfge of the She declined both alternatives. fforld—nothing is less possible. It is merely " Let my mother hear nothing from either of I question of time. You may marry some other us, until she is better. I wish it to be kept a nan, some years heuce. Or you ma.y marry secret for the present, Godfrey. Go now, and he man, dearest, who is now at your feet, and come back this evening. We have been hero fho prizes your respect aud admiration above alone together quite long euou<^h." he love of any other woman on the face of the arth." * Sew ijetteretlge'3 Narrative. Cliapter viii. page 117. 462 [April 25,1S68.] ATJ. THE YEAR ROUND. [Conducted liy She rose, and, in rising, looked for the first gestures, and his face are all familiar; and when, time towards the little room in which my mar­ wand iu hand, he left his rcading-desk aud tyrdom was gomg on. approached our stauding place, I was cogita­ " W^bo has drawn those curtains ?" she ex­ ting half unconsciously as to where I could claimed. "The room is close enough, as it have seen hira before. Cogitation became per­ is, without keeping the air out of it in that plexity when I found myself selected from the wav." crowd; and not tbe least puzzling part of the She advanced to the curtains. At the mo­ business was thatthe faces of many ofthe black- ment wben she laid her hand on them—at the gowned officials seemed equally familiar. Here moment when the discovery of me appeared to was I, publicly recognised by oue verger and with be quite inevitable —the voice of tbe fresh- a conviction that I was ou speaking terms with coloured young footman, on the stairs, suddenly the rest, aud yet with a certain knowledge that suspende'd iiuy further proceedings on her side I had not been within the Abbey walls for or on miue. 'it was unmistakably tbe voice of years. But that my companion was equally a man m ereat alarm. favoured, and yet maintained his calm, my pre­ "Miss'Rachel!" he called out, "where are sence of mind would have forsaken mc. "Em­ you, Miis Rachel ?" ploy tbem at my house to wait, and you saw She sprang back from the curtains, and ran them at my last dinner-party!" is his whispered to the door. explanation when I ask whether he often attends Tbe footman came just inside the room. His the Abbey services, and if not whether he was ruddy colour was all gone. He said, " Please known to the vergers elsewhere? This told to corae down-stairs, miss I My lady has me all. " Champagne, 'ock, or sherry ?" were fainted, and we can't bring ber to agaiu." the words I had previously heard from the In a moment more I was alone, and free to highly respectable lips at the desk before me; ?o down-slairs in my turn, quite unobserved. aiid tbe anxiety with which my little difficulties Mr. Godfrey passed me in the ball, hurrying ill finding the anthem and the psalms of the out, to fetch the doctor. " Go in, and help day were watched, had in it some of the polite them !" he t-nid, pomling to Ihe room. I found deference which distinguishes the administra­ Rachel on her kuees by'lhc sofa, with her mo­ tion of a pleasant and well ordered house. ther's bead on her bosom. Oue look at my Tbe Abbey vergers wait at parties I My com­ aunt's face (knowing what I knew) was enough panion employs them regularly, they recc^- to warn nic of tbe dreadful truth. I kept niy nise in liim "a liberal aud frequent patron, thoughts to myself till tbe doctor came in. It and here you have the entire secret of my was not long before he arrived. He began by surprise. But it lasted through the service sending Rjicliel out of the room—aud theu he aud while we were bemg showu round. The told the rest of us that Lady Verinder was uo contrast between the day aud evening em­ more. Serious persons, iu search of proofs of ployment of tbe men in cloaks gave quite a hardened scepticism, may be interested in hear­ wiue-y flavour to some of the dark cliapels, ing that be showed no signs of remorse when and lent temporary association to ideas utterly he'lookeil at Mc. dissimilar in themselves. It made the Abb^ At a later hour I i)eeped into the breakfast- cloisters secular, aud gave a monastic render­ room, and the library. My auut had died ing to the past festivities of my friend. Not without opening oue of the letters which I bad that the vergers were anything but competent, addressed to ber. 1 was so shocked at this, respectful, and iu everyway fit for their work. that it never occun'cd to mc, until sonic days Tbey formed a striking example to the servants afterwards, that she bad also died without of another great cathedral, aud did their spuit- giving mc my little legacy. iug without rudeness or attempt at imposition. But tbe evening and dinner-party smile and bow were to my morbid vision omnipresent; WESTMINSTER ARBEY. aud " Henry the Seventh," " Edward the Con­ fessor," and " Geofi'rey, Abbot of Westmin­ AMAZEMENT is too mild_ a word for my ster," rolled trippingly off the tongue exactly frame of mind, when the vergers of Westmin­ as if tbey were being announced in a drawing- ster Abbey single us out during divine service, room before dinner. aud after marked personal attentions deposit An annouucement In this morning's Times us in the stalls uext the dean. It seems has told mc that tbe Abbey is open for inspec­ such a palpable mistake. Pride and shame tion from teu to four in winter, and from ten contend for mastery while we are being paraded to six iu summer; that the dean and chapter down the aisle, and a confused fecliug tbat I gave every facility to visitors, and that the nmst bc somebody else without knowing it Is attendants arc guiltless of the extortion and strong within mc as we ruu the gauntlet of rudeness recently laid to their charge. We choristers aud congregation uutil our exalted proceed to test the accuracy of these statements, place is reached. Rut mincHug with and and arrive at the Abbey at a quarter past three overpowering tbis inierual conflict, is a con­ to find divine service iu progress and that we viction that I have met the cloaked figure iiow shall not be able to put the deau and chapterto acting as guide, iu some ]irevious and less the proof for three quarters of au hour. The old solemn stage of existence. His gait, his hair, his story of a Londoner's ignorauce of the Sights >^ ^

Oborlas Diokena.] ALL THE YEAR ROUND, [April 25,1868.] 463 of London again comes upon us, and with bridges iu stained glass. Stephenson's chief renewed force. It is just after we have heard engineering works, Boiiha-bridgc over the this tbat we are amiably pounced upon by the Nile, the Britanuia-bridgc over the Meuai fei^er sitting immedlat&ly below the dean, and Straits, the High Level-bridge at Neweastle- are taken into moral custody. From tbe van­ upon-Tyuc, are mingled on this window with tage ground he lands us on we are compelled the budding of Solomon's Temple, the build­ to fiee one half the choristers and singing men; ing of the ark by Noah, the building of and to generally remark the congregation. It Nineveh, and the erection of the tabcruaclc, is bright and sunny outside, this Saturday after- to the iuevitable confu&iou of f)ostcrity. Nor do aoon, and the dreamy, drowsy character of tbe figures which accompany iJicsc illustrations cathedral life comes strongly home to us in these exhibit auy biograpbical connexion with each carved seats. The verger at the clerk's desk, other. It is perhaps appropriate tbat the por­ is so excessively kind and thoughtful that the traits of George Stephenson, Telford, Snieatoii, least delay iu finding our places brmgs his eye Watt, Rennic, and Robert Sie|)hen60u should to hear, and I am iu momentary dread that be given iu stained glass; but whether Wil­ he will leave his seat aud by pointing out liam of Wykeham, Hiram of Tyre, Noah, Sir the antbem agaiu expose us to the wonder Christopher Wren, Jiczalccl, Cheops, aud of the congregation. He spares mc, however, Michael Angelo, whose presentments appear md much relieved I venture to glance rouud. in the ueighbou ring p;ines,can be strictly claimed Ihere are not many people present. Few as even professional connexions of the great a the lower stalls are occupied, and the peo- engiuecr, is perhaps open to doubt. file kept standing approach the number of those sitting dowu. The singing men when not prac- Deau Stanley speaks of" that thin dark thread lisuig tbeir calling are studiously abstracted of those who, without bisturicid or official aid indifferent. While the lesson is beiug read claims, have crept iuto the Abbey, oi'ten from they become positively gymnastic iu their efforts the carelessness of those who had the charge M seem at ease. Their writhing aud undula- of it in former times;" and there is somethmg ions are at one time eel-Uke iu their rest- touching iu the humble gravesof people who have fisaness, while at another they resemble so uever known ambition or tasted greatness, and nany bales of white linen, so completely have who yet have drifted somehow inio the last iiey buried their heads in their priest-like resting jdace of the powerful aud mighty. Amid Bbes. Dean Stanley iu his book on West- tbe array of glorious names, each of wbich is ninster Abbey tells us that the olden regula- a history of achievement, we come upon lions for the monks at dinner were very precise. " Jane Lister, dear child, October 7, IGSS," *No one was to sit with his hand ou his chin, and read tbat "her brotlierilichacl had already ir hia hand oyer his head, or as if in pain, or died in 1G7U, and been burled at Helen's 0 lean on his elbows." It was impossible Church, York." Again, a still more luslgni- 0 avoid the wish that the dean would eu- licant life, Nicholas Bageuall, " au infant of oroe some similar rule upou his lay assistants two mouths old, by his nurse unforfuuatcly overlaid," has his little urn; and a ilr. Thomas Smith, "who through the spotted veil of the LOW. small-pox, rendered a pure and unspotted soul The monuments and the Abbey are agreeably to Gud, expecting but uot fearing death;" while lean after St. Paul's. The fee for seeing all the ou anotber monument wc read that ielits, and hearing au elaborate description ?mch lasts thirty-five minutes, is sixpence; aud "With diligence and trust most exemplary he guide-book sold by the vergers for a shilling Did William Lawrence serve a prebendary ; > compact and comprehensive, telling the tranger the principal points he wishes to know, and after the name of John Broughtou, the 'ou may walk in the nave aud visit Poets' or prince of prize-fighters, comes a t^pace upou Vhig's comer, unelbowed by tout, or cheat, which was to have beeu written " Cnampion of r beggar. You may buy a book or not, as you England," but the deau of the period objected, fid; the vergers give a civil reply to your and the blank remains. These obscure exceptions uestions if you put them; but if you choose are grotesque enough iu a place where, as has been 3 stand alone, you can meditate upon the monu- well said, " we sec how, by a gradual but certain lent of Pitt or Eox without fear of annoyance instinct, the main groups have formed themselves r interruption. Above all, the statues and round particular centres of death ; how the kings lonuments are takeu care of. There is ranged themselves round the Confessor; how wie of the abject neglect which shocked us tbe prince's courtiers cluug to the skirts of the kings; how out of the graves of the courtiers > at St. Paul's. Refore leaving the nave, were developed the graves of the heroes; how B are arrest cd by a memorial window, Chatham became the centre of the statesmen, hioh is sufficiently original to make one Chaucer of the poets, PurccU of the musi­ onder why it is here. Eor its choice of cians, Casaubon of tbe scholars, Newton of ibjects contrasts strongly with the figures of the men of seieuce; how cvou Iu the excep­ le twelve apostles, the agony in tbe garden, the tional details natural afiinltles maybe traced; ismg of Lazarus, and the Ascension on the how Addison was buried apart from his tuneful her windows near; aud it is not until we brethren, iu the royal shades of Henry the ad the name, Robert Stephenson, that we see Seventh's chapel, because he clung to the vault; e appropriateness of railway viaducts aud 464 [April 25,1M8.] ALL THE YEAR ROUKD, [OondneMd bj of his owu loved Montague; how Usaher lay to see the ruins of majesty in the waxen besides his earliest instructor Sir James Ful- figures placed there by authority. As soon as lerton, aud Garrick beside his friend Johnson, we had ascended half a score stone steps, in a and Spclman opposite his revered Camden, and dirty cobweb hole, and in old worm-eateu South close to his master Busby, and Ste­ presses, whose doors flew open at our approach, phenson fo his fellow-craftsman Telford, and here stood Edward tbe Third, as they told us, Grattan to his hero Fox, and Macaulay be­ which was a broken piece of waxwork, a bat­ neath the statue of bis favourite Addison." tered head, and a straw-stnff'd body, not one Our personal popularity Increases the longer quarter covered with rags ; his beautiful queeu we remain in the cathedral. The men em­ stood by, not better in repair; and so tothe ployed by my friend have told other men of number of half a score kings and queens, not his hospitality and its needs; and from the near so good figures as the King of the Beggars nave to the pay-place near Poets' Corner our makes, and all the begging crew would be progress is one long ovation. When we have ashamed of their company. Their rear was passed through the gale, we form a party of brought up with good Queen Bess, with the twenty-two, and arc promptly shown round. remnants of an old dirty ruff, and nothing else " Saturday, geutlemeu"—in a polite and private to cover her." Although eleven figures aresdd whisper tlils, as if an unusually rare vintage to be still iu a tolerable state of preservation, were being proffered—" Saturday is our busiest the dean and chapter are wise in not compet­ afternoon, berause tbe people come from seeing ing with Raker-street; and though the blocks the Houses of Parliament. No, sir, they never of effigies described by Stow also exist, it re­ give us much trouble. Just walk through and quires a keen antiquarian appetite to care for see what I'm going to show you now, and ask them. Charles the Second formerly stood over a question or two, perhaps, but very rarely his grave, with General Monk (both in wax) misconduct themselves. Three or four times near him. Mr. Ned Ward, in The London a-day, sir, sometimes, and occasionally oftener; Spy, remarks of the former, witb comically not very often—no—but sometimes, though. sweeping praise, tbat, " So much as he (the Yes, we each go round; but, as you'll doubt­ king) excelled his predecessors in mercy, wis­ less be aware, sir, this depends a great deal ou dom, and liberality, so does his effigies exceed the public tliemselves. Yes." The verger's the rest in loveliness, proportion, and magnifi­ politeness to us, It is due to him to say, is only cence ;" while General Monk's figure was slightly in advance of his politeness to every one famous because its cap was used to coUect sub­ else. Two women with oabies pester him like scriptions for the showmen. Goldsmith's Citi­ human gad-flies with foolish questions. They ask zen of the World asks, " What might this cap whether the statue to Lady Walpole—one of the have cost originally ?" and his guide answers, most beautiful in the Abbey—Is the Queen, and " Tbat, sir ? I don't know; but this cap is have " Wife ofa great English minister" blandly all the wages I have for my trouble." Both given iu reply. A couple of Germans, Badeker cap and custom are abolished, and no one in hand, go with us from chapel to chapel, was asked to add to the fixed fee of sixpence vainly trying to fit in the spoken and written wc paid on starting; bnt the popularity of descriptions with each other. Young and old the wax figures as a show and the keenness people from the country, and working raeu and after tips displayed by the Abbey showmen of women, make up the rest of tbe party ; and we comparatively recent times are both shown m are conveyed through the sights iii the conven­ an anecdote told by Dean Stanley. After Nel­ tional way. There is, of course, the usual sing­ son's public funeral, the car on which his coffin song monotony in our guide's description; but had been carried to St. Paul's was deposited it is not imintcUigcnt, and be is ready to sup­ there, just as tbe Duke of Wellington's is now, plement it wbenevcr asked. Banners dropping and became an object of such curiosity that the to pieces from age; helmets, breast-plates, and sightseers deserted Westminster, and all flocked other warlike mementos in marble ; old effigies to St. Paul's. This was a serious injury to the of long-forgotten originals; the carvings, orna­ officials of the Abbey. Accordindy a waxwork ments, and mouldings of centuries ago; memo­ figure of the hero was set up, said to have beeu ries wbich Addison mused over and Macaulay taken from a smaller figure for which he had has celebrated, were all got through in thirty- sat, and dressed iu tbe clothes which he had five minutes. One of our companions asked actually woru. The result was successful, and another for the wax figures, aud was told that crowds flocked once more to Westminster tbey were not shown now; another commented Abbey. It was the minor canons and lay vicars ou Henry the Seventh's Chapel as "funny;" whose " too scanty incomes were eked out by while the cradle-tomb of an infant prince with a fees, and who, in consequeuce, enlarged their marble child asleep inside it brought tbe women­ salaries by adding as much attraction as they folk fairly to bay. Wc were glad not to be could by new waxwork figures, when the cas- shown the wax figures. Tom Brown, whose tom of making tbem for the funerals ceased. humour was certainly uot fastidious, gives a One of these is the e^gj of Lord Chatham, picture of them in lus quaint " Walk through erected in 1779, when the fee for showing Londou and Wesfminster" which shows that, them waa, in consideration of the interest at­ eveu in his day, the show was irreverent. taching to the gi'cat statesman, raised from Writing Iu 1708, he says: "Aud so wc weut threepence (it was originally a penny) to six* CharleB DkksDs.] ALL THE YEAR ROUND. [April 25.18CS.] 465 pence." A guide-book of 1783 says of this must so quicklv follow; when 1 see kings lying effigy: " Introduced at a considerable expense. by those who deposed them; when I consider . . . The eagerness of connoisseurs and artists rival wils placed side by side, or the holy men to see this figure, and the satisfaction it afl'ords, that divided (he worid with tbeir contests and justly place it among the first of the kind ever disputes, I reflect with sorrow and astonish- seen m this or any otlier country." We are at ment ou tbe little competitions, factions, and least spared the degradation of such pulfs as debates of maukiud. When I read the several this by tbe regulations now in force, and we dates of the tombs of some who died yesterday, begm to feel a new confidence in the existing and some six hundred years ago, I consider management of the Abbey. that great day when we shall all of us be con­ temporaries, and make our appearance to­ A book of elegant extracts might easily be gether." Tickell iu his " Lines ou the Death compiled from celebrated authors who have of Addison," speaks of tbe luxury of ranging written on this grand old edifice, aud who the gloomy aisles alone, and of the are quoted by the dean. Washington Iiwing sketches for us " the grey walls discoloured by Just men, by whom impartial laws were given; damp, and crumbling with age," and shows And saints who taught, aud led, the way to heaven, with his usual felicity bow " a coat of hoary wliose names are sculptured near; and quota­ moss has gathered over the inscriptions of tions might be multiplied indefinitely from the several of the monuments, and obscured the great English authors who have made West­ deatli's heads aud other funeral emblems." minster their therae. Raleigh slept iu the gate-house of the old The coronation chair, witb the stone of Scone, monastery the night before his execution; and called " Jacob's Pilluw," inclosed in it, which, Lovelace's famous Hues: it win be reraembered. Sir Roger de Coverlcy Stone walld do not a prison make tried, and iu whicb Goldsmith " could see no Nor iron bars a cage, curiosity," is shown us in due course by our were penned during his incarceration in the guide, to tbe manifest interest of all. Visitors same chamber. HoweU's Perlustration of are kept off by a railing now, but wc peer at it London, pubhshed in 1657, says "The Abbey gravely, as if to read some mystic words in the of Westminster hath been always held the plebeian cutting and scratching with which it is greatest sanctuary and randevouze of devotion defaced. W^e hear how it has only once been of the whole island: whereunto the situation moved out of the Abbey (when Cromwell was installed Lord Protector in Westminster Hall) of the very place seems to contribute ranch, since it was conquered from the Scots by Ed­ and to strike a holy kind of reverence and ward the First; how all the kings and queens sweetness of melting piety iuto the hearts of of Enn;land have been crowned in it since; and beholders." Waller says: how the chair by its side was made in imitatior. The antiqne pyle behold, for the double coronation of William and Mary. Where TOVEI heads receive the sacred gold; No detail is too slight or trivial for our party ; It gives thera crowns, and does their ashes keep. aud the women with the babies linger by the There made like gods, like mortals there they sleep. ugly old relic as if fascinated, long after our Jeremy Taylor preached to tbe same effect, urbane guide has moved away. It Is worth re­ and Francis Beaumont had previously called membering here thai, as Dean Stanley re­ upou his readers to minds us, no other coronation rite in Europe reaches back to so early a period as that of Tliink how many royal bones the sovereigns of Rritiiln. Tradition assigns Sleep within these heaps of stones. Stonehenge as tbe spot where the half-fabulous Steele in his account of Bcttcrton's funeral, and Arthur was crowned. Tiie coronation of the Lamb in his protest against the affected attitude seven Saxon kings from Edward the Elder to andtheatricalgracesof the monument to Garrick, Etbelred took place at tbe first ford in the both moralise on tbe solemnities of the Abbey; Thames; Ilardicanute's at Oxford; Canute's and Addison's noble reflections there, are among at St. Paul's ; but the great crowning place of the finest in tbe language. " When I am in a the Saxons became the sanctuary of the house serious humour," wrote Mr. Spectator, " I very of Cerdic, the cathedral of Wincbester. Harold's often walk by myself in Westminster Abbey; coronation took place on the same day as the when the gloominess of the place, and the use Confessor's funeral, when all was iu such baste to which it is applied, with the solemnity of tbe and confusion that it Is doubtful whether the budding, and the condition of the people who ceremony took place at Westminster or St. lie in it, are apt to fill the mind with a kind of Paul's. But from the crowning of William tbe melancholy, or rather thoughtfulness, which is Norman, by the grave of his predecessor King aot disagreeable. . . . When I look upon the Edward, wliom be claimed to succeed not so tomb of the great, every emotion of envy dies much by victory as by right, our coronations frithin me; when I read the epitaphs of tbe have taken place iu the Abbey. The religious beautiful every inordinate desire goes out; ceremony, which was regarded as conferring ffhen I meet with the grief of parents upon a some sacramental virfue.was as nearlyas possible tombstone, my heart melts witu corapassion ; concurrent wiih tbe monarch's accession; and irhen I see the tomb of the parents themselves with the exception of Edward the First, in whose [consider the vanity of grieving for those we 406 [April2'..18Q8.] ALL THE YEAR ROUND. [Oondncted by case delay was unavoidable, no sovereign before when the monster, full of fury, moved towards Elizabetb allowed any interval to elapse between bim, spitting poison and menacing destruction. tlieir accession and their formal crowning. The He could scarcely find breath to ask, while pale delay in her case was the first symptom of de­ and trembling he staggered away, " Is this the caying belief iu the sacred ju'crogativcs and reward, the promised reward to thy deliverer!" exceptional virtues conferred on monarchs by The snake coldly replied, " Such are the world's coronation ; and this was not the least healthy wages for benefit; and I promised thee nothing symptom of her vigorous reign. more." After a brief glance at the chapter-house, The words only increased the countryman's now in course of restoration by Mr. Gilbert alarm, he saw no way of escape and no helper Scott, and a pleasant gossip concernmg the was at hand. Finding no hope of deliverance, noble appearance it will present when the re­ his heart beating wit h norror, his cheeks stream­ commendations of the Thames Embaukmcnt ing with tears, he thus addressed the terrible Commission arc carried out, and the ugly reptile, "I am in thy power, at thy mercy, I modern houses near It arc pulled down, _ we have neither strength nor courage to resist,and leave the "temple of silence and reconciliation, yet I caunot understand the meaning of thy where the eumitles of twenty generations lie discourse. I ara a poor simple countryman. buried," equally convinced of the excellence of Ignorant of the ways of the world. I know tbe arrangements now in force for showing the iiot whether its wages are such as you propose cathedral, and of the patleuce and politeness to pay. Enlighten me on this matter, or at displayed in carrying those arrangements out. least let some just judge decide between us." " So bc it," answered the snake. "Tis a reasonable proposal. On tbat dry heath there TIIE WORLD'S WAGES. is an ancient war horse, a far nobler beast than I may have appeared to thee, let us hasten to AN irU>'GAllTAN STOUT. him { he shall be tbe judge." IN the hot midday sunshine a poor country- No sooner said thau done. The countrvmm maii was making his way homeward to bis native moved tremblingly over the fields, and his village, wearied and bent under the ponderous venomous companion crept slowly behind him. burden he was bringing from the neighbouring They reached the burnt and grassless heather, town. He kuew well tbat a scolding awaited aud, behold, a grey horse stood before them—a him (as usual) from his ill-tempered wife, who ragged steed, a mere skeleton—whose nostrils had beeu expeetmg him wil h uo little impatience, were exploring the barren heath iu search of a and every step seemed to tire him more, aud to few scattered olades of grass. The snake broke make his load heavier, as It brought him nearer the silence, and began to question tbe poor to her rattling, wrangling tongue; he felt so broken-down beast, " What dost thou here on wholly exhausted that he was glad to stagger this wild waste, while there is such a supply of to the boundary stone of an adjacent field, upon rich fodder in the master's stables? What which he sat himself down to rest for a short brought thy noble loins to such a wretched quarter of an hour. skeleton, wliich thy rough hide scarcely covers ?" Under tbe stone, however, in a rut whicli Neighing woefully, the horse replied, " Know had been made by a watercourse, or by the you uot that these arc the commou wages of result of some accident wbich had caused the the world, aud it is thus that friendly services displacement of tbe stone, au enormous snake arc rewarded ? For thirty weary years I bore was bidden, and scarcely was tbe countryman a valiant warrior on ray back,- 1 obeyed liis seated ere the snnkc put out her head, and, witb every wink, I turned at liis every touch of my a loud but agonised hiss, thus spoke: "Wel­ bridle. Seven times I saved him iu the battle come, welcome, friendly stranger ! Take pity tempest from fetters and from death. Now worn on me, and release mc from the weight of this out oy toil aud time, no longer able to serve, monstrous stone, whicli every instant threatens he has delivered me over to the knacker, and to crush me. It is raore aud more un­ soou my hide is to be severed from my bones." bearable, and if you will uot save me I must " Ha ! ha!" said tbe snake to the countryman. perish." " Dost thou hear ? Prepare for death, for that The countryman doubted whether he ought is thy doom." He spoke, coiled himself up, to assist a reptile of such known aud hereditary and was about to spring furiously upon the enmity to man. lit; felt, however, some pity, doomed one, but he tlirew himself down humbly though he hesilated to draw nearer to tbe snake; on his knees between the horse and the snake, but the snake ajtpealcd to him with cver-Iu- and thus put forward his petition, " Spare me, crcasing eanicslucss. " I implore, I conjure spare me but a Uttle while; I have a wife and you, by all tbat Is merciful! Save me! save children at home. Who will provide for them me I I will reward yuu with every recompense if you destroy me ? 0 let us appeal to that mau ))ays to inuu for bis good deeds—bnt another judge—the life of man bangs upon the save me!" The counlryiuau could not resist award—and if he confirms the sentence giveni the repeated piteous appeals; he mustered all will prepare myself for death." his strength, turned over the stone, and released " Agreed," said the crafty creature. " I grant the ]irisouer. also this to thee of my great grace." Aud thcT What was his astonishment, what lils fright. crossed the heather over to a thicket in which s^ y

Chftries Dlokeni] ALL THB YEAR ROUND. [AprU 25, 18«y, 407 tbe snake had seen the form of au animal iu tbe thou indeed breathe," inquired the fox, with dIstMice, and as they approached they found a affected wonderment; "couldst thou indeed very old hunting dog fastened with a cord to breathe in this narrow uncomfortable place?" the trunk of a willow tree, lean aud wretched, " Uncomfortable, Indeed," said the snake," very and utterly unable to protect liimself from the uncomfortable—the stone is so very heavy— swarms of flies that tormented him dreadfully. let mc out, let mc out, or I shall be prcssea to "And who brought thee. Squire Harchunt, death." The last words were feebly uttered to this willow trunk—to tliis forlorn condition. from the squeezed throat of the snake, but the Why, it waa but the other day I saw thee joy­ countryman gaily answered. " No I no! my fully and bravely following the game over the lady snake! remain where yet thou art," and he country. What does it all mean ?" inquired and his cimning deliverer wended their way the snake. The poor dog set up a bitter howl, homeward. and thus replied, "Such are the world's wages, They had not proceeded far wheu the fox re­ such the recompense of friendly deeds. Six minded the cftuutryman of his engagement, and years I served my master with diligence and the countryman proniised that ou the very next fidelity—served him in house aud field—and moruing he would have six noble cocks ready deserved the name I bore; I was a terror to for breakfast, to which he invited bim, where­ the hares, known and feared by their whole upon the fox bade him heartily farewell, and fffmy; and now I am bound to this willow shpped away into a vineyard that was near. trunk, condemned to die, and only waiting the The countryman hurried back to his village arrival of the keeper to despatch me." as fast as his legs would carry him, but reached The coimtryman shuddered body and soul. it only late iu the evening; but before he per­ He saw the snake wreathing her folds in self- ceived his cottage he beard in tbe distance the gratulation, aud preparing to revel in the noisy shoutings of his impatient wife, aud he success of her machinations. All hope of de­ had scarcely crossed the threshold ere she set livery had vanished, and the poor countryman upon him with all the fury of a wild beast as if began to prepare himself for death, and to re­ she would destroy bim. It was in vain he commend himself to the keeping of God before narrated to ber the fearful adventures which drinking the bitter cup. But, lo! suddenly a had delayed bis return, it was in vaiu he lauded fox sprung forward from the wood where he tbe kindness of the benevolent fox which had had been hidden, quickly took his place between been his deliverer, she only lavcd and scolded the oountryman and the snake, and very the more till the stream of her desperation was courteously asked what was the subject of their exhausted, aud her poor husband was enabled quarrel. He winked at the countryman, while to insinuate a word. the snake watched alibis movements, and offered He told her of the promise he had raade to the poor man his patronage if he would help the fox, aud said that on its fullihneut her life hira to a good supply from the poultry yard. aud his own depended; liut she burst out more "Yes! yes !" said the countryman, upon which furiously than ever, and swore that she would tiie fox said he would institute a proper inquiry rather sacrifice him than surrender a single into the whole affair. cock from her poultry-yard; aud before the And to the countryman's great astonishment, appearance of the morning star she stood the snake gave her consent, and they conducted armed with a sharp heavy hatchet behind the the wondering fellow back to the very boundaiy wicket door, aud as the unsuspecting guest fiom which he had witnessed the beginning of entered to partake of tbe profcrred hospItaUty his strange adventure. and had just stretched his head over the Wheu they reached the spot the fox betook threshold she struck his neck with a mortal himself to silent and thoughtful musings. He blow. boked at the stone around, above and below, The countryman hearing the death-cry of the w^ed with his nose, brushed witb liis tail, and wounded fox hurried out of his chamber hoping began an eloquent harangue : " Beloved, beauti­ to warn and to save him. It was too late. ful and accomplished suake I I can no raore The dying fox was bathed iu his own blood, doubt or deny your right than I can add anotber aud perished with tlie exclamation: "The charm to the grace of your body; nay, I am as world's reward for well-doing." sensible of the justice of your claims as is this stone to the brightness of the shining scales on your back, but I am somewhat perplexed with the THE SONGS OF THE MUSIC HALLS. qnestion as to how your stately form could nave been confhied in this small hole. In order " SONGS without words," or songs of wbich that I should form a righteous judgment the the melody is played upon au instrument, whole matter must be made clear." without any aid from the voice arc always "I will answer then at once," said the snake, more or less beautiful. Every tune gives and suddenly crept into the very hole where some degree of pleasure to the lover of she had beeu before concealed. The fox gave music, whether educated or uneducated; and a sharp wink to the countryman, who so sud­ uo tune or melody cau of Itself, without asso­ denly and dextrously turned over tbe atone ciation with human speech, convey to the mind upon the snake that it was almost impossible any ideas that are not innocent aud pure. for her to stretch out her head, " And couldst, Music can express joy, hope, love, tenderness, y 46S [April 25,1S69.] ALL THE YEAR ROUND. [Condoeted 1^ sorrow, melancholy, martial ardour, and deep required amusement after their day's work, religious fceling; or, by a discordant note, it tbe comic muse was largely represented. There may possibly express fear or anger. But music never was a time in England wben gaiety and cannot convey tbe idea of indecency, spite, lightness of heart did not find expression in malice, jealousy, hatred, falsehood, revenge, or music. The songs, sentimental or comic, grave any of the mean and wicked passions. All or gay, that pleased the English people before music, in fact, is sacred. It is only when the days of Queen Elizabeth, have for the most vulgar, silly, or indecent writers of verse asso­ part perished, but from the time of Shakespeare ciate tunes to their compositions, that music be­ to our own, we know exactly the style of songs comes linked in the mind witb unworthy ideas. tbat amused our forefathers. Their comic songs Music, in the case last mentioned, is in the were sometimes too free and loose for a reflned pitiable plight of a Venus Aphrodite, dressed taste, and sometimes they were silly and affected; against her wnll in the dirty rags and foul but in the raain there was a hearty humour and garments of the street virago, or the harridan joyous wit about thera, which removed them of the gutter. Of late years tbe love of music from the imputation of coarseness. Even up ta has very greatly increased among all classes so late a period as 1830, when Vauxhall Gardens, of tbe English people; though tbe blessing White Conduit House, and other places that has been attended with some serious draw­ were the direct predecessors of tbe Music Halls backs. Among the chief of tbese has been a were open, tbe songs that were sung were not vast increase of so-called coralc songs of the wholly adapted to the taste of "fast '* raen and lowest order, which has operated very injuri­ women, or of " cads" and costermongers. ously upon the taste and morals of the multitude. Sentiment was not utterly banished, and the Before proceeding further with the subject, let comic songs, though not very elevated as speci­ tbe writer state at once that he is no enemy of mens of English composition or graceful as public amusements. He loves to see people specimens of Englisb wit, had a certain spice enjoy themselves. He likes fun, provided it be of fun and humour about them, that amused funny. He likes humour, provided it be hu­ without disgusting the hearer. A collection of morous ; and he highly enjoys wit, provided he such songs published in 1830 in three volnmes, can have it unadulterated with obscenity or and entitled the "Apollo," shows the wit that profanity. But he hates vukarity and the pleased tbe fancy, and the pathos that touched habitual use of slang, and does not think the hearts of the men and women of that day. tbat the language of thieves, or even of The publishers took credit to themselves, not costermongers, is worthy of imitation. He only for having carefully excluded from their prefers tbe society of gentlemen to that of pages "everything that could disgust the eye "cads," and thinks that the crowning grace of modesty, or shock the ear of refinement," of a beautiful woman — without whicb all but for having "rejected every composition, other cbarras and accompHsbments are of no however popular, that was nothmg but flimsy account—is modesty; not simply of thought rhyme aud jingling nonsense." It most be and dress, but of action and demeanour. There admitted, however, that this excellent rule of is no reason among any of these loves and selection was not rigidly adhered to, and that a hatreds, why he or auy one else should not large amount of very flimsy nonsense, indeed, approve of music and song for the million, and found its way into the pages of the Apollo. of the Music Halls that have withiu tbe last few Edmund Waller, in the days of Charles the years sprung np in all tbe populous towns and Second, thoupht it hard that he should be cities iu England. Tbe Music Hall is the opera called upon " to swear to the truth of a song,'* house of the poor, and if the poor, dlfi'eriug in and it would be equally bard if the writer of a this respect Irom the rich, enjoy their songs, soug purporting to be comic, were not aUowed their ballets, and their acrobatic gymnastics the privilege of harmless nonsense—for non­ much better with an accompaniment of beer sense may often bc witty as well as funny; and aud tobacco than without, there is no weighty convey innocent pleasure, where good sense ia reason why any sensible person should oliject a repulsive shape might foil to convey either to their recreation on that account: provided pleasure or instruction. But nonsense is not always that tbey keep within the bounds of to bc confounded with inanity or stupidity, and sobriety and decorum. That the beer and the especially with that lowest and vilest form of tobacco have a vulgarising and dcmoralislug both, which borrows tlie language of pickpockets tendency is obvious enough ; but, on the other and cadgers, and knows no ditference between hand, it must bc admitted tbat the hard-working mirth and blackguardism. And in this respect multitudes of onr busy age have too little op­ the comic nonsense of our fathers and grand­ portunity aud means of recreation to justify fathers stands in very favourable contrast with the the rigid ceusor In objeetiug to a public taste Music-Hail nonsense that has sprung into favour which he is powerless to elevate, provided that in the year 1868. In the not very remote days the bad taste leads to uo ofl'ence against good when William the Fourth was King, sentiment morals. was not considered, as of necessity, to be un­ In the days when there were no Music Halls manly, unwomanly, or silly; and the expression in London, and when uri)an and suburban of honest love and disinterested friendship was taverns and public houses were the resorts of not held to be inconsistent, either with delicacy tradesmen, clerks, mechanics and others who or good sense. The songs of Dibdin, Barns, and Cbarlei DtokenB.] ALL THE YEAR ROUND. [April 25, ISfiS.] 4P9

Moore, continued to please all classes of the Music Hall unnamed, " by the special request people, whether their nationality were English, of His Royal Highness." We turn to the Scotch, or Irish; and shared with many newer collection in which these alleged favourites fiiYOurites, who endeavoured to follow in theo f royalty appear; and find it described in patii they bad shown, the applause of the town. the publisher's preface as " a collection oi gems Madame Vestris, Mrs. Humby, Mrs. Waylett, that have called down upon the singers tbe Mrs. Honey, Miss Love, iliss Foote, Miss most vociferous applause, that have found Maria Tree, and others, though they lent their way to the barrel organs, and been sung their sweet voices to comic, as well as to senti­ at tbe corners of every street." We are thus mental song, never lent tliem to vulgarity, or enabled to pass judgment upon the taste and soiled their lips with the slang of swcllniobs- humour which grace the comic muse of London men; and such singers of the other sex as in our day, aud which are supposed to find ad­ Incledon, Brabam, Sinclair, Wilson, Phillips, mirers not alone among the needy and tbe seedy, Templeton, and Russell, endeavoured to elevate the illiterate and tbe vukar, with au occasional sprinkling of " cads and swells," who may bc and adorn the art to which they devoted their vulgar but are not illiterate, but among the Uves, and never pandered to a crapulous and highest and best educated classes. ^ " Cham­ depraved taste. But in this respect we have pagne Charlie" the first In the series, is the changed for the worse. The most notable description of a disreput able " swell," with characteristic of tbe public songs of our days, as more money than brauis, who haunts all the fer as the Music Halls are concerned, is their "supper rooms" of London "from Poplar to utter intolerance of sentiment. If a tender or Pall Mall," and treats any girl witb whom he ennobhng thought has to be expressed before a comes in contact witb as much champagne as popular audience it has to be rendered accept­ she can drink. able to the debauched palates of cynics and rowdies by a touch of farce, such as is supplied Champagne Charlie is my name. by the simple expedient of translating it into Good for any game at niglit, my boys, the vulgarest idiom, or blackening the face and "Who'll come and join me in a spree? hands of the singer. To the negro minstrels, or to white men masquerading In negro character, The " lady's version" of this composition— has been relegated all the tender and romantic said to be sung by a "lady " in public, and to be sentiment of popular song; as if it were adapted to the use of "ladies" mprivate, varies derogatory to the business-like character, and the chorus: to the high intellect of a raan with a white skin Champagne Charlie was his name, to aing sentimentally of anything so " spoony " Always kicking up a frightful noise, aa genuine affection or youtbful faith and sim­ Kicking up a noise at night, my boys. plicity. These simulated negro songs, con­ And always ready for a spree. temptible as they are in some respects, have Comment upon such a song is as needless a certain humour and pathos which render them as any remark upon the taste and manners superior to the comic songs which men .with of the so-called "ladies" who either applaud unblackened faces permit themselves to sing. or sing it. There is here and there to be found in them a "Moggie Dooral" is stupider, if possible, touch of manly and simple nature, whicb not than " Champagne Charlie ;" but as it was ori­ even the garb or paint of "niggerism" can ginally a song of the "negro minstrels," and wholly degrade. But when we come to the came from the other side of the Atlantic, it songs of the very funny vocahsts whose busi­ cannot be fairly placed to the discredit of ness does not require tbem to blacken their London, unless for the minor ofi'ence of extend­ faces, and who conceive that the affectionate ing its favour and popularity. Tbe fii-ststanz a pubhc loves them best under the familiar will suffice as a speclnieu: names of "Joe," or "Tom," or "Fred," or "Charlie," as the case may be; we find an Once a maiden fair, absence alike of nature, of pathos, of humour, She had ginger hair, and of wit. They are not able to approach With her tooral, looral, la! di! oh! And she fell in love, even to the boundaries of farce : and in order Did tbis turtle dove, to understand their descriptions, accurate or And ber name was Dooral, maccurate, of the manners of the day, the reader Moggie Dooral, or hearer has to be familiar with the lowest Cockie Dooral, phases of life in tbe metropolis; and be thus Iloopty Dooral, enabled to sympathise with the pursuits, feelings, Tooral, looral. modes of thought, of cadgers, costermongers, Silly noodle, oh! my! the least respectable class of servant giris, and of others of their sex still less respectable than This "nigger" song depends for its success they. By referring to tbe advertisements in the ou tbe blackened faces and bands, and on tbe public press we find that three " splendid songs^| good comic acting of tbe singers, who endea­ called respectively " Champagne Chariie, vour—and not unsuccessfully—to make it " Moggie Dooral," and the " Chickaleery grotesque. , ,,/-,,- , Cove," which are described as having beeu The "Chickaleerie Cove," or the "Cbicka- sang before the Prince of Wales, at some leerie Bloke"—it is known uuder both titles—is yL 470 [April 25,1863.] ALr. THE YEAR ROUND, rOoadoetAd by the climax of the three royal favourites for not ouly policemen, but mechanics, linen- dismal and revolting oflcnsivcness. The lan­ draper's assistants, and merchants' or lawyers* guage is not to be understood witliout a clerks, are just as fond of the cook's mutton, garotter's or a burglar's glossary to explain as the policeman, and just as ready to descend the " slang," the "flash," the " cant," and the to low manccuvres and mean arts to get a shwe " rommany," with which it is interlarded. of it. It is not that this picture of the un- One stanza will be more than sufficient for married portion ofthe lower stratum ofthe youth om- pages. " Chickaleerie," it appears, stands of the middle class in our age is a true one; for Whitechapel, and " bloke" is nineteenth but it is the fact, that it should be accepted as century English for a man, or for a thing tme, and laughed at as such, that shows the that so calls itself when it does not call itself deplorable vitiation of the popular tasta: of a " swell." London. Anyone who enjoys such literary oSai. as I'm a Chickaleerie blohe with my one, two, three, we here describe, may find it at the Music Whitechapel was the village I w.is born iu, Halls, where one performer cams his thousand For to get me on the hop, or on my t'lbiiy drop, or fifteen hundred pounds a year, and rides in You must wake up very early in the morning; his brougham from one place to another, smging I have a rorty gal, also a knowing jw^, And merrily together we jog on, the same song eight or teu times in the even­ I do not care ajlatch, as long as I've a fatch. ing, to new and delighted audiences. Or if our Some pannum for my chest and a tog on. investigator recoil from such haunts, he may read comic song-books, closely protected by a Let those who will, refer to Mr. Hotteu's copyright that will not permit the infringe­ *' slang dictionary" for an explanation of the ment or piracy of anything so valuable—and strange words iu this thieves' vocabulary. For so ignoble. Extracts from the song-books ourselves we can say, that with every disposi­ lie before us; but we cannot in justice to our tion to be tolerant, to make allowances for readers, d^rade these pages by presenting any defects of education and for evil culture, and more specimens of that combmation of stupidity above all, with a desire to discover a soul of and vulgarity in their most offensive form -winck goodness in things evil, it is diflicult to un­ produces the Music-Hail literature of the pre­ derstand how any one claiming even on the sent day. Let it be enough to say, that the most inadequate pretence to possess the raost three extracts already given are perfectly fair average share of human intelligence can take samples by which to estimate all the rest. pleasure, with or without tbe accompaniment of The all but worn-out saying of the name­ beer aud tobacco, In the hearing or the reading less friend of Fletcher of Saltoun, who, m of such inane trash as this. We have beard the days before newspapers, declared that he it pleaded as some excuse for tbe disgraceful would rather be the song-writer than the law­ success of these songs, that the melodies to which giver of the people, has a side to it tbat its first they are sung are lively, sometimes even pretty, utterer never imagined; for if the song-writers and always easily caught by the ear, and that of the people are of the class that provide the the public of the Music Halls tolerates the Music Halls with their "fun" and theirmorahty, words for the sake of the music. There is un­ the administrators of the law, if not the law­ doubtedly a certain truth expressed In this view. makers, are likely to have extra work. When But the main question remams unafl"cctcd by It. the song-writer teaches virtue, celebrates true What is to be said of the popular taste which, love, exalts patriotism, and has no ridicule under any circumstances or for any reason, to throw except at the harmless follies aud tolerates the words at all ? small vices of the people, he is a power m A great portion ofthe very thin, attenuated, the state. When he reverses the process, and all but imperceptible "fun" of the comic sneers at virtue, ridicules the great and the songs of the present day, or at least of such of heroic in character, and borrows, as his them as flourish at tbe Music Halls, consists iu choicest vehicles of expression, the language of calling women "feminines," or "female wo­ burglars and beggars, he also becomes a power men." To take a walk with a " feminine" on a in the state, but a power for evil. The greater Sunday, or to be jilted by a "false feminine," the popularity which lie achieves, the more cer­ and to relieve the misfortune by " giu," or a tain the mischief lie causes. The question is a flirtation with a "new feminine," or to steal large one—too large for adequate discussion down the area of a gentleman's house to visit here. All that needs to be said on the sub­ a "feminine," or a "female womau," who acts ject is, that he who would thoroughly under­ as cook, and to be regaled by her on the cold stand the present sordid and dirty vulgarity beef and mutton of her master, until the alarm of our great cities, should dip into the literature is raised that the "missus" is coming, when of the Music Halls. The study will not be plea­ the visitor is safely stowed away in the coal- sant, but may prove to be instructive. The cellar until tbe danger of discovery is past; these English were said, by the old French chronicler, are the telling hits at tbe Music Halls, if the to amuse themselves sadly; and anything sadder, Music Hall song-books tell the truth. Of course iu every sense of the word, thau the comio the policeman does not escape caricature when songs that are popular iu London in the year auy little incident of this kind is to bc described; 1868 is diflScult to imagine. There is no escap­ thoughif the comic song-books are to be believed, ing the conclusion that the taste of a krge ""^

Ciiarl«DiokenB.] ALL THE YEAR ROUND. [April 25, 186S.] 471 mass of our countrymen is, in respect to some The feudal lords did not want so strict a of the chief amusements which please them, master; tbey prefei-red making endless warfare steadily on the decline. This is a serious na­ amongst themselves. Guy, therefore, had no tional matter; and as suck we call attention to difficulty in hatching a revolt—witb four leaders it m these pages. especially already disposed to it; namelv, Gri- moult du Plessis, Hamon-aux-Dcnts or ilamou with the Teeth, Neel of Saint Sanvciir, and THE BATTLE OP THE VAL-DES-DUNES Renouf, Viscount of the Bassin. He easily convinced tbem tbat their only chance was to I. TEE PELOSTE. get rid of the intrusive and troublesome youn^- NEAHLY eight hundred and twenty-one years duke. ago, in the course of a struggle two centuries "What legitimate pretensions had William long, there occurred an event whose immense to the Duchy of Normandy? Was he not a importance has scarcely been appreciated by bastard, an^ consequently without right? the generality of students. Its consequences, Robert's real heir was himself, Guy, tbe son of however, were as decisive as its circumstances Adclise, good Duke Richard's daugliter. His were interesting and dramatic. Normandy was mother (Guy's) was a lawful wife; William's, a near losing her Duke and Eugland her Con­ coucubme, a Falaise furrier's daughter. Yet queror. It is one of the greatest "Ifs" of this was the fellow they accepted for their history. If tbe Barons had stamped out tbe master I Would they nol shake off so degrad­ lad of twenty, what would have been Brit annia's ing a yoke ? The Duchy of Normandy was history from that time to tbis ? Tbe facts of legally his property. If "they would support ihe case are given by M. I'Abbe Le Cointc, bim and do bim justice, bc wonld repay their Cur^ of Cintheaux, iu a complete and conscien­ services with rich domains." Arguments of tious " Notice," * the leading points of which this kind told so well that they swore to depose we reproduce for the benefit of our fellow their tyrant, by force or treachery. countrymen. William, meanwhile, ignorant of the plot, Tweive years after the death of Robert the had gone to his Chateau of Valogncs, to settle Fuat^ Duke of Normandy, sui*named the Liberal, business and enjoy the pleasures of the chase. hisaonand successor, "VA illiam the Bastard, had He thus went into tbe heart of his enemies' just entered his twentieth year, when a con­ country with no other protection than his usual spiracy got up by the Barous of Lower Nor­ attendants. It was a betrayal of himself into mandy, at the instigation of Guy, of Burgundy, tbe hands of his foes. Tiie opportunity beiii" nearly cost him his duchv and his life. This too good to be lost, the conspirators resolved Gay, the second sou of his father's sister, and to profit by it. Neel, Renouf, Grimoult, aud consequently his own couslu-germaiu, bad been Hamon tbe Toothy, proceeded at once to the brought as a child to tbe boy duke's court, and environs of Valogncs, to carry out their project treated with brotherly affection. As Guy grew concocted at Bayeux. up, WiUiam made him a knight, aud gave bim One evening, when bis visitors had departed, in fief the Chateaux of Vernon and iJrionne, and the duke was left alone with bis household, besides broad lauds surrounding tbem. He was the traitor barons and their accomplices put on only nursing a serpent to sting hira afterwards. their coats of mail and girded their swords be­ Fufied up with his recent elevation, Guy's only neath their outer garment. That done, they thought was to acquire stiil liigber rank with­ sprung into their saddles aud galloped off to the out troubling his conscience as to the means. ducal residence. It would be easv to surprise Wilham, although so youug, was devoted to William, without warning or challenge, aud to the duties of his station. A child of eight put him to death. when he succeeded to his father, he neverthe­ By good luck, there slept that night in the less, Guillaume de Poitiers tells us, grew fast stables of the hotel, where the barons prepared in intelligence and personal prowess. " Gaul for their attack, a fool of Bayeux, Gallet by had not another cavalier so renowned as he. As name, between whom and William there was a he excelled in beauty when clad in princely ha­ strong attachment. He amused the duke with biliments, 50 also in his warlike equipment be his salhes; the duke gave him his cast-off appeared to singular advantage. lie zealously clothes. The fool, who bad already fallen asleep, set to work to protect God's churches, to de­ was awakened by the noise of men aud horses. fend the cause of the weak, to establish equit­ Cautiously peeping out, he beheld every one in able hiws, to pronounce judgments in accord­ arms. Sure of discovering "some great piece ance with justice and moderation, and, above of news," he listened. There was talk of sur­ all, to stop murders, fires, aud jiillage; for un­ prising and kllUng William. Trembling for his lawful thmgs theu enjoyed the extreme of dear duke's life and shouldering a stake as his licence. Fmally he withSi'CW his countenance only weapon, he ran off to the chateau, which from those whom he found incapable or per­ he reached about midnight. All was silent. The verse; he followed sage counsel, resisted foreign frequenters of tbe court were gone, the people on service fast asleep. William also was iu bed, foes, aud enacted from bis own people all due " but I don't know," says au old romancer, obedience," " if he slept." * E. Le Go8t—Cle'risse, Editeur, Caen. Gallet rattled on the doors with repeated 472 [April 25,186S.] ALL THE YEAR ROUKD. [Condncted by blows. "Open! open!" he shouted with all reached the village of Ryes the morning was his might. "Tbe enemy are coming forthwith already far advanced. to slay you. Fly !" The lord of the manor of Ryes, Hubert by Once inside the castle, he ran about with name, was a brave knight, a wise vavasseur,* desperate cries. "Up, caitiffs! Up with you, a man of honour if ever there was one. He ye wretched men ! You will be all made into was on bis way to hear mass when William, miiice-meat. Fly!" He theu ran up-stairs and unable to avoid him, met him full butt. He reached the duke's door, beating the wall with recognised the duke, but could Iiardly beUeve his stake and incessantly shouting, "Where bis eyes, beholding him unshod, unattended, llest thou, Willame ? Wherefore sleepest thou ? exhausted, scarcely able to keep his seat on a Thine enemies are arming; if they reach thee, horse whose sides were streaming with sweat thou wilt not see the raorning. Ah, poor Wil­ and Mood. lame, what art thou about ? Th' art dismem­ " Sire," he said, raismg his hands to heaven, bered, dead, if thou flee not. Doubt it not; I " What is this ? Why are you wandering thus saw tliem arming. Get up, fair friend. Quick! alone ? Hide nothing from me; confide in me. Flee, lest thou bc cau^lit!" I will save you, as if it were my own proper The duke, alarmed, jumped out of bed, body." crossed himself, and iu shirt and trousers, The duke at once told him all, knowing him without hose or shoes, hastily threw on a short to be loyal, and adding, " I have not yet riding cloak. Then, girding on his sword, he escaped; my enemies are following me, I hurried to tbe courtyard, mounted a strong and know full well. If they catch me, I am a spirited horse which a terrified chamberlain dead raan. Much need have I therefore of presented, and disappeared in the shadows of your aid." night. Scarcely had he left the chateau, " Deus! Salute Marie !" Hubert exchumed, when the sound of cavalry reached bis ear. It "There is not a moment to be lost. Enter, was the troop of traitors commg to mjirder fair lord; I will give you a troop to conduct hira. and guard you." The conspirators soon entered the castle. " Frieud of God, five hundred thanks I" cried They searched every hole and corner, and found William, bis hopes reviving at his vassal's zeal. their prey had escaped—a dangerous situation After offering some slight refreshment, Hu­ for them! The duke was now their implacable bert brought another horse, leading it himself enemy, and would turn upou them relentlessly. by the bridle. He called his own three sons, Beaten by him, tbey would be sure to lose and ordered them to start as soon as they had every inch of ground they possessed in Nor­ girded on their swords. Then, pointing to the mandy. Taken prisoners, tbey might expect duke, he said, " See here your lord, whom per­ the punishment of felons and traitors to their jured traitors are trying to kill. Watch over suzerain lord — au ignominious gibbet. Red bis safety; let no harm reach him tlirough your with rage, and making a desperate dash, " To fault, if great danger threaten, sacrifice your­ horse! to horse!" tbey furiously shouted, selves for him ; if needs be, give yourselves in " Death to the bastard I Let evei-y man ou exchange. While you have life defend him, our side do his utmost to catch hira!" Putting that he be not slain in your hands." 5])urs to tbeir steeds, they galloped off in search The sons bowed aud joyfully promised. of the duke. Hubert told them the route they were to follow, Meanwhile, William fled alone, as fast as his travelling by by-paths and avoiding populous horse could carry him, iu the direction of the towns; then, seeing that all was reacfy, "Fair fords of tbe Vire. Tbe night was calm,and children, mount!" he said. "Straight to fiue, with brilliaut moonlight. Before daybreak, Falaise!" the fugitive had traversed the Virc at low Tbe castle-gate opened, and the four gallant water, by Saint Clement's ford, near Isigny. coursers galloped across country without meet­ Ou passing the church he recommended him­ ing au obstacle, until they reached the banks self to God, praying to be taken under his of tbe Ome. Tbey crossed the river at the holy protection and to be saved from his ene­ ford of Foupendantf below Harcourt, between mies. After safely crossing the Vire, where tbe Croisiiles aud Thiesmenil, and soon, all gleeful, rising 1 ide would liave ofl'ered an insurmountable reached Falaise. At tbe news of the danger obstacle to his progress, he began to take tbe duke had incurred, there was great mourn­ breath. He tbougliL of his unhappy fate and ing I hroughout the town. According to Benoit's gave free course to the grief tlmt oppressed quaint account, " five hundred good Falaisian him. " Ever since he lost liis father, lus hfe faces were moist." had been one continued struggle. Danger had After William's departure, Hubert de Ryes followed danger without truce or interval. Was anxiously waited for what was to follow. Stjuid- he soon to sec the end of bis misfortunes ? ing on his drawbridge, he kept a sharp look­ Would God take pity on bis lot?" out. Soon there came a troop of cavaliers, But there was no time to lose; he must whose horses appeared exhausted with fatigue. choose bis route. Unable lo reckon on Bayeux, he resolved to avoid it, following the coast by * A vassal under a vassal, the road which still bears bis uame, " La t Fago pendente, the hanging beech, the beech- A''ole-le-Duc," the Duke's Way. When he wood slope. ^

OtiirlMlMe^ent.] ALL THE YEAR ROUND. [April 25, isea] 473 They were the assailants who had been pursuing little river Laizon, between Argences and the duke all night. Hubert knew them weU M^zidon in Normandy, at the head of at least as soon as he caught siglit of tbem. Drawing ten thousand meu. William diligently re­ nigh, they hurriedly asked, "By your faith, cruited troops iu all the districts remaining have you seen William pass tbis way ? Con­ faithful to him. With this army he encamped ceal nothing, aud beware of lies." at Argences, on the river Muancc, about a "What William do you mean?" couple of leagues from tbe King of France's "The bastard, tbe haughty duke." army. " Certainly; be can't be far off. But why ? On the other hand, the revolted barons had What is the matter now ?" uot been idle. As soon as they heard of llenri's "Come with us, and we will tell you. Mean­ promise to help the duke, tbey were aware while, do as we do." tbat their only hope of safety lay iu a bold and " With all my heart. I should like nothing desperate resistance. Leaving their castles un­ better than to lower tbe pride of the insolent protected, they armed every mau at tbeir dis­ bastard. Wait a minute; I will be your posal, young and old, and summoned all the guide. If we catch him, par raa foi, I am tbe vavasseurs who owed them service in tirae of first to strike him, if I can, as you will war. Before long, their united troops, fol­ see." lowed by bands of villains arraed with clubs So saying, he jumped on horseback, and and iron-tipped sticks (because they had not started with them in the direction opposite to the right to fight with swords) passed the lifcr that taken by William. Leading thera more Orne, thirty thousand strong, and proudly ad­ and more astray, he set them rambling about vanced to raeet the invading armies, as far as the country until, seeing their horses thoroughly the Val-des-Dunes, a league from Argences. worn out, he declared with au air of great vex­ In this strong position, lance in hand, "the in­ ation, that "the bastard must doubtless have surgents awaited the bour of battle. foUowed another path. At which they took To ihe south-east of Caen, between the two their leave, thanking him for his zeal, and roads which lead one to Paris the other to making the best of their way to Bayeux. It Palaise, there stretches a large triangular plain. was noon when Hubert re-entered his castle of About the middle of this plain, a rising ground Ryes. swells into the little hill of Saint-Laurence (which is eight miles from Caen), attaining its n. THE PUNISHMENT. highest elevation at Secqueville, forming a WrLUAM, well aware that be could not, horseshoe from the north to tbe west, and then smgle-banded, repress so formidable a revolt, gently sinking towards tbe south. The valley put Falaise and its castle in a state of defence; formed by the sweep of tbe hills bad derived and, accompanied by his uncle Mauger, Arch­ from its stony and sandy soil, and especially bishop of Rouen, sought Henri the First, King from its configuration and its sterility arouud of France, at the royal residence of Poisy, near Saint-Laurence's hill, the characteristic name Paris. of " the Dunes," from the Celtic word " dun," "Sire," he said, "I have henceforth con­ an elevation. Seen from the heights of Saint- Laurence aud Secqueville, it bears a re­ fidence in nothing except God and you. All semblance to the open hull of a very broad- my people are in revolt against me. They pay built ship. In spite of modern attempts to me no homage, they have takeu my land, tbey plant Scotch firs, an old description still ravage and burn all my domains, and I shall applies to it. " There are no groves or soon have nothing left. Dear sire, you ought thickets. Hard is the earth, without marshy not to abandon me. My father made me your ground," man, when he started for the Holy Land; your man I am in Normandy; surely you should Such was the position takeu up by the barons. defend me. My father once restored France With the hill of Saint-Laurence at their back, to you. When yonr mother, Constance, tried their left flank covered by tbe marshes of to disinherit you, you came to Normandy with Chichehoville, their right protected by the a feeble escort. He recognised your seig- heights of Secqueville, they had certainly a great neuralty, received you with great honour, advantage over the Franco - Norman army. supplied your wants, and helped you to have Even at an epoch when there were no pro­ the whole of France. Now give me, I pray jectile weapons to speak of, the situation was you and request, recompense of this service. well chosen for a battle—with one great in­ Come with me to Normandy, and avenge me convenience, however; the barons were under of tbe disloyal traitors who have sworn my the necessity of winning. No retreat was ojien to tbem. Caen beld for the duke; to the south­ death. If you consent, you will do me much west were the rapid waters of the Orne. good, and I shall be your liege-man all my life But tbey felt strong in their courage and W." superior uumbers. At that time strategy Henri was touched by the young duke's mis­ went for nothing; brute force was every­ fortunes. Twelve years ago he had sworn to thing. act as his guardian and parent; he now kept his word. He hastily assembled " all the grand On the mornmg of the 10th of August, 1017, armies of France." At the begi nning of the French army, making a movement in August, 1047, he took up his position on the advauce, passed Airan aud occupied Valmeray, 474 [April 25, IflBS.] ALL THE YEAR KOUND, [Co&dDotedby a village situated on the river Muancc. While he had even sworn over the relics of samts that the Freuch knights were preparing for battle, he would be the very first to smite William in donning their helmets, fittuig their coats of mail, battle, as soou as, and in whatever place, he and equipping their horses, Henri entered the found him. Now, however, when he saw the little church aud remained during the mass standard with the golden leopards supporting sung in his behalf. The clerks and choristers the cross of Normandy, he called to mmd the trembled with fear, expecting every moment homage he had done to the duke in the presence that the enemy, whom they knew to be at hand, of his father and liis baronage. Perhaps, also, would pour dowu upou tliem. When the King on beholding tbe long lines of the Franeo- of France, devoutly kneeling, had recommended Norman army, he began to doubt of the euecesB himself to God's protcctiou, mouutbgou horse­ of the enterprise in which he had suffered him­ back, he gave the signal to march on the Val- self to bc entangled. des-Dunes, determined not to spare his own However that may be, leaving his followers, person iu tho rude shock he was about to who awaited bim motionless with lances erect, encounter. he spurred his horse forward, and then, bran­ At the same time, William and his Normans, dishing his spear and uttering his war-ciy, encamped at j\j'gences, prepared to effect their " Thmy !"* rode straight up to tbe duke, stnidc junction with tbe French army. At a very liiui on the shoulder twice with his glove, and early hour tbe duke was amongst his troops, said to him, smiling, " Sire, the oath I have giving orders. When all was arranged, his taken is now fulfilled. I have sworn to strike arms were brought him. Making the sign of you as soon as I met with you; Ihave done BO, the cross, he put ou his helmet. Then he not choosing to be guilty of perjury.f Do not girded on his sword, presented by a varlet. A be angry, sire; i will commit no other felony. chamberlain brought his trusty steed, ou which If I have stricken you with my glove, I will he caracoled before his admiring squadrons. thrust uiy sword-blade through a hundred Eor William was tbe haudsomest cavalier of of your euemies. Reckon upon me and his day, six (French) feet high, of herculean mine," strength, with an expressive countenance and " Vostre merci; thanks be to you!" said invincible courage. "Never was there seen WHliara, reassured and laughing witb defight. so fine a man," says Benolt—"so genteel, Raoul galloped back to his troop of knights. so well-made, so completely furnished, that With them he kept prudently aloof from the by the side of him handsome men looked fray, until the time should cooie to side with ngly." those whom he bad resolved to assist. While Henri and William, each wielding a It was about nine in the morning when the baton, were arranging their troops at the en­ two armies met. The weather being bright trance of the Val-des-Dunes, they beheld a mag­ and fine, each adversary coiJd easily count the nificent Htjuadi'on of a hundred and forty other's strength. All at once the plam re­ cavaliers approaching, with a richly-clad seig­ echoed with war-shouts. " Montjoie! Mont- neur at their head. Henri anxiously regarded juie!" cried the French, delighted to hear the the corps, not knowing whether they were sound of tbeir owu voices. "Dex aie! Dex friends or foes. Struck with their rich cos­ aie !"+ responded WiUiam's soldiers. "Saint tume and their manly beauty, he turned to the Sauveur!" " Saint Sever!" " Saint Amand!" duke aud asked, " \V'ho are these, with ladies' shouted the troops of Neel, Renouf, and Hamon tokens ou their lances? Are they enemies? of the Teeth. After this hoarse defiant pre- Costly Is their apjiarcl; wisely and well tbey lude thousands of lances were fixed in their hold themselves. One tiling I clearly see—that rests. The cavaliers, leaning forwards, their victory will bc with tlif>sc whom they help witb heads being protected by helmets of steel, their swords. They will not bc fouud among spurred tbeir liorses and swept over the plam. the vanquished. Do you kuow anything of The earth shook beneath this mass of cavahy their intentions ?" rushing along at full gallop. "Sire," said William, "I believe that they Soon, however, sharper and shiiller sounds all w-ill side with mc. The sire who commands succeeded to the horses' heavy tread; there tbem is Raoul Talsson. Never iu my life have was the clashing of arms, the shivering of lances, 1 had dis|iutc with him, nor done him wrong or the blows showered ou hehnet and shield. villany. He is a very honourable man, aud will There gradually arose a dull screaming noise, bc a great help if he aid us. Please God that as amongst pebbles rolling on a shingly shott; he may !" when a retreating wave dashes them one agamst Raoul Taissou was the Seigneur of Cinglais. tbe other. This was the real din of battle, So great was the extent of hia domains that the the voice of au obstmate aud bloody fight. saving ran, " Out of every three feet of land, two belonged to him." The surname Talsson had been given to bim because, like the badger (in • Thury-Harcourt, the chief place in Taisfion's domains. old French " taxo"), he eould go to earth t Tnisaon'a reasoning reminds us of the warrior wherever bc weut. The rebel barous bad in­ bisiiop who, hesitating to slay his enemies with the duced him to come to Bayeux, and there, by force sworct, for fear of disobeying the holy canons, rimply of entreaties aud promises, had contrived to get knocked them on the head ^vith clubs and cudgels. him to join their party. Before leaving them, X Deus or Deux nous aide; God help UB. ">^

CharlwDtolEenB.] AUi THE YEAR BOUND. [AprU 25,18G3.] 475

fought with equal courage on either side, with relates. Certain of the rebel lords the duke the same resolution to conquer or die. Along exiled, or put to death, causing their castles to a front a couple of miles in length, there was be razed; others obtained their pardon. Renouf B continual rush of squadrons'charguig with was amongst the latter. But what matters it rage or forming again to repeat their onslaught. to tbe master bison what becomes of tlie rivals Many were the oloody coats of mail; many whom be has gored aud driven off, so long as the brc^cn swords and battered helmets; he founds a dynasty reigning by the grace of many the warriors who fell never more to God and tbe right of the strongest? rise. How William, the gentle, the preux, sur­ passed all others; how brave Neel multiplied himself when his squadrons were tottering THE LATE MISS HOLLINGFORD. under the adversaries' shock ; how a knight, who was never known and whose name is not CUAPTER IX. found in any book, unhorsed the king; how THE winter was passing away at this time, Henri reraounted without contusion or wound ; and spriug days were beginning to shine. I how Hamon of the Teeth was taken up dead, walked out of my bedroom into the bright while the most valiant of his knights perished March world, and saw the primroses laughmg with him; how the young Duke of Normandy, iu the hollows. I thought my heart 'broke by slaying Hardre, gave tbe finishing stroke outright when I heard the first lark begin to which decided the battle; how the routed sing. After that things went still further troops, in their efforts to escape, rushed Into wroug. John carae to take mc out for a drive water twenty feet deep; bow tbe hcaped-up one day, and I would not go. I eould not corpses choked the stream, until the water- go. And the TyrreUs were staying at the mills were stopped and the river ran red with hall. blood as far as Caen, we leave the ancient WTiether it was that llachel shunned mc of chroniclers to relate at length. her own wish, or because she saw that I had Wheu tbe slaughter came to an end at last, learned to despise her, I do not know; but we the king and the duke, transported with joy, kept apart. My poor soul was quite adrift. returned from the pursuit to the Val-des-Dunes Anguish for the past, disgust at the ])ri;seiit, and divided tbe immense booty which they terror of the future, all weighed ou it. If I had •found heaped together. Neither of them was known of any convent of saiutly nuns, such as I above taking his share of the profits. They bad read of In poems and legends, who took then set about removing the wounded and the weary in at their door and healed the sick, turying the dead; after which Henri, without who would have preached to ine, prayed with finther delay, led back bis army to France, me, let me sit at their feet and weep at their William betaking himself to Rouen. knees till I bad struggled through this dark The insurrection was crushed. By natural phase of my life, I would have got up aud fled to them iu the uight, and left uo trace behind •selection William took the lead, survivmg this me. struggle for power and life by the same sus­ taining and repressive force which makes the I hated to stay at the hall, aud yet I Trild bull lord of the herd. Weak arms, lax stayed. Mr. Hill — kind heart!—said he muscles easily tired, unsteady sitters in their would bar the gates, aud set ou llie dogs If I saddles, were speedily put out of the way, attempted to move. He and his wife both leaving no lineal descendant behind thera. The fancied at this tirae to make a pet of me. I Franco-Normans, the better butchers, enjoyed had been ill In their house, and I must get well tLe_ butchers' privilege of turning to account iu tbeir bouse. They would warrant to make their fellow-creatures' deaths. the tirae pleasant. So the TyrreUs were bidden Neel fled to Britany, as the beaten animal to come and stay a mouth. Grace Tyrrell retreats to the wilderness. All bis domains arrived witb ber high spirits, her frivolity, her odour of tbe world, took rae In her hands, and •were confiscated, though he was graciouly par­ placed herself at oucc between mc and Rachel. doned some years afterwards. In 1054, he She found mc weak, irritable, woe-begonc. She had certainly recovered tbe heritage of his questioned, petted, coaxed. Partly through fathers. Guy shut himself up iu his Chateau curiosity, and partly through good-uaturc, she of Brionne, where William very soon besieged tried to win my coufidence, and iu an evil bour him. Forced to capitulate, his life was .spared I told her all my trouble. I listened to her and he retired into Burgundy, Grimoult dc censure, scoffs, counsels, aud my heart turned Plessis, delivered up to the conqueror, was to steel against John. thrown into prison iu Rouen. Accused of being the principal author of the conspiracy, bc was She was older thau I by five or six years. found strangled in gaol the very day when he I was a good little simple babe, she said, but was to justify himself by a judicial duel. They she, she knew tbe worid. It was only in story­ buried him in his irons. His castle was demo­ books, or by younglings like me that lovers lished by the duke's order, aud the barony of were expected to be true. Miss Leonard was Plessis with all its dependencies was given to an " old flame," and, if all that was said might bc true, would be heiress of Hillsbro'. Yes, the cathedral of Bayeux, aud not to " Madame yes, she knew I need not blaze out. I had ftsinte Marie of Rouen," as Benoit erroneously 476 [April 25, 1868.] ALL THE YEAR ROUND. [Condncted by made myself a hero, as simple hearts do, but before that he had made two unsuccessful at­ my idol was clay all the same. Wealth and tempts to marry an heiress. I was not an power would do for John Hollingford what heiress, but the hand that I should give to a his father's misconduct bad undone. It was husband would Ue pretty well filled. At all utter silliness, my abasing myself, saying tbat events, be was ever by my side, and Grace (I Rachel Leonard was more loveable than I. am now sure) helped him to contrive that it Her rich expectations were her superior charm. should be so. I did not like him, I never had Oh me! how people will talk, just to be thought liked him. Before I had come to Hillsbro' he knowing, just to be thought wise, just to had wearied me with compliments and atten­ dazzle, and to create an excitement for the tions. When he had visited me at the farm, hour. elegant as he was, I had contrasted him uu. I do think that Grace Tyrrell loved me after favourably with the absent " ploughman," won­ her own fashion, and that she thought I had dering that language had only provided one been hardly used; but the sympathy she gave word, " man," by which to designate two crea­ me was a weak sympathy that loved to spend tures so different. He was the same now that itself in words, tbat was curious to sift out he had been then; but I, who bad soared to things the matter of my grief, that laid little wiles to higher, had fallen. Any one was useful to taJk prove tbe judgment she had given me true. to, to walk with, to drive with, so that time might She bad watched them (Rachel and John), she pass; any noise, any bustle, that would keep me said, and John's manner was not the manner from thinking, was grateful. So I tolerated of a lover, though he affected it as much as he the attention of Captain Tyrrell, and he and could. He was trying to bind her with pro­ Grace hemmed me in between tbem. Rachel mises, but she would uot be bound. Yes, she, looked on in silence, sometimes with contempt, Grace, had watched them, and would watch sometimes with wondering pity. John kept them. Every night she brought me into her furiher and further aloof, and his £ice got darker, room, and detailed her observations of tbe day, and sadder, and sterner to me. And this it and pitied, and petted, and caressed her poor was that bewildered and chafed me more than darling. I was weak in health, and unutter­ anything 1 had suffered yet. Why, since he ably lonely and sad, aud I clung to her pro­ had turned his back upon me, would he keep tection and kindness. But instinctively I dis­ constantly looking over his shoulder ? And, on trusted her judgraent. I disliked her coarse mc! how Grace did whisper; and how her views of things, and followed her counsels whispers fired me with pride, while the con­ doubtingly. fidence I had foolishly given her daily wore I have not described her to you yet, my away mv womanly self-respect. children. Imagine, then, a showy, frivolous- My cliildren, you will wonder why I did not looking, blonde young woman, fond of pretty behave heroically under this trial. You despise feathers, and flowers, aud gay colours; pretty a heroine who is subject to the most common enough in her way, good-humoured and talka­ faults and failings. The old woman now cau tive. look back and mark out a better course of con­ I thought, then, that I had every reason duct for the girl. But the girl is gone—^the to be grateful to her, and I blamed rayself for past is past, the life is lived. I was full of the not loving her spontaneously, as I had loved, humours and delusions of nineteen years, and I as_ I still fought against loving Rachel. I saw the glory and deUght of my youth wrecked. think now that I had no reason to be grateful Existence was merely mextricablc confusion in to her. If she had not been always by my the dark. I never dreamt of a path appearmg, side, so faithful, so watchful, sn never-failing of a return of sunshine, of a story Uke this to witb ber worldly lesson, I thiuk I should have be afterwards told. found a way out of the darkness of my trouble. Rachel's conduct was variable and strange to I think I should have softened a little when me at this time. She kept aloof from me, as I Rachel met me in the gallery, twined her soft have told you, looking on at my poor little arm round my neck, and asked me why we two frautic efforts to be careless with a grand con­ should be so estranged. I think I should have tempt. She watched me as closely as Grace wept when John took my hand betweeu bis watched her; but one day, I kuow not how it two and asked me, iu God's name, to tell him happened, some word of jealous misery escaped why I had CTOWU SO altered. But I was blind, me, and Rachel grew very white aud silent, and deaf, anil dumb to their advances. Their there was a long pause of days before either of reproaches were meaningless, their caresses them addressed the other again; but Rachel's treacherous, and I would have noue of ihem. look and manner was altered to me from that I would stand where they themselves had placed moment. A long, tender, wistful gaze foUowed mc, but I would draw no nearer to set tbeir me about. She did not venture to dispute consciences at rest. And then there was Cap- Grace Tyrrell's possession of me, but it made tain Tyrrell at the hall. her uneasy. She was observant and sad, Why did Grace Tyrrell want me to marry patient and kind, while my manner to her was her brother? I do not know ; unless because often irritable and repeUant. One uight she she liked mc, for she was fond of him ; unless stole into my room when I was sinking to sleep, because my substantial dowry would be of use and bent over me in my bed. "My darling,my to tbe needy man of fashion. I had heard sister!" she said, " let me kiss you, let mc put y Oharles Dickens.] ALL THE YEAE ROUND. [April 25, 1888.) 477 my arms round you. Oh! why will you always A little tiling happened which surprised mc. tura away from me ?" A troop of us were riding one day along the I did not answer, except by moving my face moor, and by the outskirts of the road, I, being shudderingly aside. foremost, espied two figures at a distance among "Margery," she whispered again, "tell me tile trees, and recognising the girls frora the why you have turned agaiust me and John farm, 1 pressed on and came on them unawares, Hdllingtord?" where tliey were down on their knees, gathering " You and John," said I, opening my eyes mosses out of the grass. Mopsie was on my and looking at her. " Yes, that is it. You and neck iu a moment, but Jane was a httle shy. I John. Dear me; am I not grateful to you had to coax her to be frank. hoth? How odd!" She thought I must be changed, she said, I " Margery, shall I swear that you have no stayed away so long. If I cared for tliem any reason lo be jealous of me." more, I would have come to see them. Mother " Oh no, Eachel," I said; " don't swear. Go was not very well, and John, when at home, away and be liappy, as I am, aud sleep was dull. He fretted about something. Did I soundly." not know what it was about ? She moved away a step or two, but came back " Whether I come or stay, you must believe hesitatingly. in me, Jane," said I; " I am not one of those " Margery," said she, " I want to tell you— that change. I will go back with you now and if you will listen to me—I have a great see your mother. Here arc the rest of our trouble." party coming; we will meet them and tell tliem "Have you?" said I. "To think of any what 1 am going to do." one having a trouble in this world! I can't "That is Miss Leonard," I added, seeing believe it." Rachel riding foremost. " Arc you not curious "Bnt, Margery," she said, putting her hajids to see her. Jane said "yes," and walked on on my shoulders, and looking down at me, "I beside me, holding my whip. have a secret, and I carae here to tell it The sun was in Rachel's face till she passed to you, and you raust listen, for it coucerns into the shade right before us. She raised her yon." eyes then and looked at us, sfarled violently, " Does it ?" said I; " then you had better gave her reius a sudden wild pluck ; the horse not trust me with your secret, Rachel. I think reared, plunged, and flung her. I screamed Ihave a wild beast chained up in me some­ and spraug to tlie gi-ound, but Jane stood where, and it might do you harm. I advise immovable, looking at Rachel where she lay, staring at her with a face which had cliauged yon not to have anything to do with me. Good from glowmg red to white. I pushed her aside night." to reach Rachel. She turned quickly round, "All!" said she, bitterly, turning away, and, without a word, began walking rapidly " was ever any one so changed in so short a towards home. She passed out of sight, thne. This is Miss Tyrrell's doing. She is a without once looking back. It all occurred in spy upon me, and yet I defy her to know any­ a minute. thing about me. She has filled you with her own cruel prejudice." The other riders came up ; Rachel was not "Do not say anything agamst the TyrreUs in injured, only a little bruised and faint. She ray hearing," I said. " They are the dearest was too nervous to remount. Our party rode fnends 1 have." home, and I sat with Rachel on the grass, till a servant came with a pony carriage. The man " If that be true," answered Rachel, thought­ took our horses, and I drove Rachel home. fully, " I have nothing more to say. The thing She cried hysterically all the time whilst we that I was going to tell you does not concern waited in the wood. I did not see any more of yon, and I have been spared a humiliation for Jane, and, ot course, I did not pay my proposed the present. Wben you know all, you can cry visit to lier mother. Raehel did not attempt out against me with the rest. Remember," she to explain the cause of her accident, and I did added distinctly with proud bitterness, " I give not ask her anything abont it. I remembered you full permission," Jane's face, and I puzzled over her strange She turned away and moved across the room ; conduct in silence. It was impossible not to she stopped before the dying fire, standing think that she had beheld in Rachel some one above it, and looking down into it. I saw her whom she had not expected, aud was not well dark figure between me and the fading glare, pleased to see. Yet this yonng girl had been a her head lowered on her breast, her arms hang­ child when she had come to HiUsbro', and she ing dejectedly by her side. She mused there a had not known Rachel by name. My head few minutes, and then went noiselessly out of ached distressfully over the puzzle, but I could the room. make nothing of it. Jane was an odd girl; she had conceived a prejudice against Miss Leonard, CHAPTER X. and had taken a whimsically rude way ot show- EAEIT summer was already upon the land, ing it. This was aU the conclusion I could flowers were blooming, and the reign of sunshine come to on the subject. had begun. The cuckoo haunted the hall gardens, rabbits basked in the glades, and the One evening we had a dinner party, and a Toods were alive with smging birds. good many young people being present, we yL 47s [April 25,1868.] ALL THE TEAR ROUND. [Coadneted by

danced a little. I danced more gaily than the old talks about pleasant fancies. But this was rest, for my heart was unusually sore. Grace not the friend I had known, nor was I any Tyrrell had told me that day that she purposed longer the simple girl who could open her heart leaving the liall next week, and had pressed me to trust, and delight in shining dreams. Tbe to go with her to London. I thought I had pleasant fancies had been proved cheats, the better go, yet I had refused her. I knew I stars bad fallen. I no longer looked np at the must leave HiUsbro', yet I shrank from the sky, but down to the ground. For a moment I great efl'ort of tearing myself away. Here I shrank back, and would have hidden, but then had beeu loved and happy; the trees aud the I thought bitterly, what did it matter? Un­ moors knew It; even the strange faces of tbe pleasant words must be said between us, sooner country people passing on the roads had seemed or later. A very few would suffice. Better to be in my secret, aud bad played their simple they were said at once. part in my dream. I felt that, once gone, I "Margery," said John, "people are looking could never return, and I must first have au ex­ for you, aud talking about you. I have come planation with John, and put an end to our to fetch you to tbe house. To tell the truth I engagement. Yet how to seek him for such a am glad of the opportunity of saying something purpose!'' I had kept at sucb a distance from wbich has been long upon my raind. WUl you him lately tbat it seemed impossible. I felt bear with me a few minutes ?" that be would be relieved by my absence, and " Yes," I said, " certainly. As long as be glad of his release, but my owu woe pressed pleased." And I tossed little pieces of twig upon me. I feared to raake a fool of rayself if over my shoulder, and prepared rayself to listen. he was kind as of old, when we said, good­ Oh, my dears, how defiant women will be, just bye. for the fear of being pitied. So I was dancing with the rest, and Captain "You must kuow very'well," he continued, Tyrrell was my partner. We were very merry. ** what I am going to say. I have a right to Grace was playing for us, and looked approv­ ask you for an explanation of your conduct for ingly over her sbonlders. John bad been with us the past few weeks. People are coupling your at dinner, but I had lost sight of him, and as 1 name with that of Captain Tyrrell, and with did not. see Rachel either, ray fancy saw them good reason. You are so changed that I walking in the moonlight without. For it was scarcely see a trace of the Margery I once a warm evening, the windows were open, the knew. Child! if you repent of the promise stars bright, and people went in and out at you have giveu me, tell me now and I will set their pleasure. Tbe ilowcrs smelt sweetly in you free. I remember the circumstances under the dew, and the nightingales were singing. which that promise was given. You, perhaps, There was a game of hide and seek ou the exaggerated your own feelings; you have since lawn, and when the shrieks and laughter were renewed yonr acquaintance with people aud subsiding, some one began to sing within. wavs of life tbat suit you best. I will try not Rachel, entertaining the old ladies and gentle­ to olame you. Speak out at once, and do not men, and the rovers flocked round the windows think of me." to listen. I bad sauntered with Captain Tyrrell The truthful ring of feeling and reproach in into a grove to hear a nightingale, and I was his voice startled ray ears, aud set my heart weary to death ofbis company. He waa trying struggling for liberty to ^ve an honest response to make me promise to go to London. " Oh, to tbis appeal. A few simple words wouldhaye let it rest," I said, " we will talk about it to­ been euough, but the recollection of all that I morrow. Let us bc merry to-nigbt. We will knew came back too quickly. The conviction of play hide and seek again!" and I darted sud­ his insincerity and injustice suddenly bewildered denly among the trees, and lay close behmd a me with anger, keen in proportion to tbe deso­ great oak. My squire lost me; I heard bim go lation I had suffered. past plunging through tbe underwood, and "Sir," said I (we said "sir" for politeness swearing a little. I lay still till he had given in those days, my dear), loftily, coldly, and in up the searcli and gone towards the house, and utter despair, " I will take you at your word. then, like the silly lamb in the spelling-book Let the promise between us be broken from stoi7, I eamc forth In the moonlight, aud if I this moment!" did uot skip and frisk about with delight, I at He heaved a great sigh of relief, I thought^ least enjoyed rayself after the only dismal fashion and being near the house we parted with much I could command. Captain Tyrrell was to me, politeness. Thus we put an end to onr engage­ in these days, a veritable old man of the sea. ment. Holy and indestructible I had believed I could not, get rid of him, and sometimes I it to be; but theu I was an ignorant little fool. thought in my moat despairing moods that it People shake hands and say good-bye every day, was going to be my lot to carry him on my and never dream of being so mad as to spoil to- shoulders for the remainder of my life. morr«w with tears. As for mc I did not wait I was walking slowly, musing ruefully, when for to-morrow. That night was piteous with I saw a figure advancing to iiieet me'on the the rain of my grief. But Grace was at hand path. 1 saw at a glance that it was John to comfort, to counsel, to instruct, which she Holliugford. The time had been when I would did with her own peculiar figures of speech. have ilowii gladly to meet him, linked my arm I " You are a brave little thing !'* she said. "I in his, aud seized the opportunity for oue of our am glad you had spirit to act on the first notica Cbarln DloKfuie.] ALL THE "YEAU KOUNli. [April 25, Ui>&.} 479 to quit. It would have been so much more are destined to lose her, and it is very kind and humiliating to have waited for a forcible eject­ syrapathising of you, my dear, to look so miser­ ment." able. You can readily imagine how I shall And I promised to accompany her to London. suffer—I, who have loved that girl far more than if I had been ten times over her mother." ClUPTER XI. And the little lady wiped ber eyes. "I told MBS. HILL bad a pretty little bedizened you, ray dear, tbat the matter is a secret. Old boudoir, blue silk haugmgs elegantly festooned Sir Arthur wants bis son to many anotber lady, with birdcages; couches and divans for its and Arthur Noble cannot marry without bis mistress's dogs and cats ; with a spare seat for father's consent. But, in the mean time, the a friend who might venture in at auy time for a children are engaged, hoping for better days. dish of private chit-chat with the lady of the And now there is a letter from the dear fellow ball. Iuto this apartment I was confidentially saying he will be here this evening. Only drawn by Mrs. HiU on the morning after ray I am not to tell Rachel, as he wants to moonUght conversation with John, as with surprise her. You wUl keep my counsel. Miss heavy eyes and hectic cheeks, but with a saucy Dacre ?" tongue in reserve, specially sharpened, and a I murmured, "Oh, certainly," but the things chin held at tbe extrerae angle of self-com­ in the room were swimming about strangely, placency, aud no toleration of interference from and my wits were astray. others, I was sailing majestically dowu-stairs " And do you know, my dear (I feel I can to put my melancholy finger as usual into trust you thoroughly), do you know I am ex­ the pie of the pleasures and pastimes of the ceedingly glad of this for raany reasons. I have day. noticed poor young Hollingford! Rachel is au " Come in, my dear," she paid, mysteriously, attractive creature, and I fear a little incon­ with her finger to her lip, noddlug her little fat siderate. But the queen of beauty must be fece good humouredly at me, and makiug all excused, my dear, and she is a queen, our her Uttle curls shake. " I tbink you are a very Rachel. We caunot help the moths getting safe person, my love, and, besides, so foud of round the candle, can we?" Racbel. I would not trouble you with my After this T curtseyed, and made my escape as news only that it is a secret, and a secret is a quickly as possible. "Poor young Holling­ thing that I never could endure for any length, ford ! Oh, John, John! why have you brought

The Right of Tratislaiing Articles from ALL THE YEAR BOUNP is reserved by tU Auihors.

Published at the OIEce. No. 2G, Welliuglon Street, Strand. Prhited by C. Wiii-'-TN'i, tifa|BVVi*iiIJ""°'i Strand.