plainly that he doesn't want to marry you A NARROW ESCAPE. at all." »r IBM .LUTHOs 01"DiiriB Doinni," "BO AnisBiri.Tivi,' Ac. &c. This conversation takes place about a week after the last one that has been CHAPTEE XVI. "THE UTTLE SPEC. recorded between May and Frank; and in MES. GEANGE'S fluency has, if appear­ the interim. May, not having been driven ances are to be relied upon, had its due on at the point of that sword, her sister's effect on Frank Forest. He has sought tongue, has been rather placidly pleasant and soothed his May. He has even gone to Frank than otherwise. He is purchasing further, out of his extreme desire to keep present peace at the price of surrendering things smooth. He has taught her to up his presence and his reasoning faculties think that she has been the one who has to Miss Constable, but he feels that the halted, and hesitated, and vacillated. "As yoke is a heavy one, and knows tliat he Frank says," May tells her sister, "it's will find it heavier still, when it is fastened not becoming for a man to press a girl upon him by legal bonds. too hard; I daresay I am very trying to He has brought himself to write one him," May goes on simply. "I expect letter to Kate, and K&te receives it the more, you know, than any man ever morning after Mr. Angerstein's death. It rendered up to any woman before." is as follows :— Her sister looks at May sharply. " My own darling—for that you will "If you're satisfied, your family have always be, though I dare not ask you to no right to complain," she says, presently. be my wife—I am not worthy of another " Thank goodness, it's you who are going thought of yours; still, for heaven's SEike, to marry him and not me. I suppose don't give up thinking of me kindly. I something has been said about the wed­ am to be married to May in a few ding day ? Every one is asking me, and weeks, and I mean manfully to try and it's awkward to have to say that Mr. make her a good husband; but every Forest hu.sn't quite made up his mind, as possibility of happiness will vanish from to whether he will take you at all or my life from the day that makes her my not." wife. I can't pen the canting humbug that "I wish you wouldn't be so bitter," some men would pen on such an occasion, poor May sobs; " it's that that makes me and that is, pray that you may bless some so disagreeable to Frank very often; and worthier man. I only know that i^ you he has said something about the wedding- ever do so I shall curse the ' worthier day ; he has said a great deal about it. man.' But I think I know you, Kate. I He wants to be married very quietly, and think, faulty as I have been, that you will he doesn't mind how soon it is." never be false to the love you so richly " That last clause is a great condescen­ and generously endowed me with. May I sion on his part, and very flattering to see you once more ? Tours, F. F." you," Mrs. Grange replies. "My dear He means every word of this effusion May, as I said just now, if you're satisfied, most thoroughly, and he is so touched by your family have no right to complain; the sensation of the emotions the writing bat I must say that he is showing very of it has caused him, that he is blind to all ^ 293 290 CJnlT II. M?*.] ; ALL THE TBAB BODOT). [Omliutidbr the cruelty and meanness contained in "Tes," Frank says, and his betroliej every sentence of it. His passion for proceeds to give a highly coloured tai Kate revives so strongly while he is garbled version of the old story that beran writing to her, that he reaUy commends in Torquay. As he Ustens to it his face himself for not penning even warmer grows pale, and his heart beats, M4 words. He almost compliments himself his manner such that poor misguided Hav on the unselfishness with which he refrains cannot any longer doubt as to whether he from urging her to give him a definite loves his cousin or not. promise, that she wiU guard her heart "It was vengeance against Clemoit against any other man. Oraham that made him pick the qnarrd, His conscience clears iteelf considerably and get Clement turned out of the serrice. when, he sees May for the first time after Clement had baulked him, and cipoeed he has posted this letter. It seems to him him, and carried away the gu:l from hua, that he has done her such an act of justice, and he wanted revenge. So much for that his sense of right doing almost obU- your cousin." terates from his memory the thought of "Did the gabbling idiot tell yon the the pain, that must be Kate's portion, when name of the man ? " he asks. she receives that letter. In an easy and "No, he'd either forgotten it ornpTL off-hand way he tells May what he has done. heard it; but there waa no donbt aki: " By the way," he says, " I have just the girl being your Kate Mervyn; he was been writing to my cousin Kate, to teU her quite surprised to hear that she was m that our little affair is settled, and that she society; people down in Torquay cut her had better begin to think of the present." directly—^naturally you know." "Why couldn't your sisters have He makes an effort to collect his written r " May questions quickly; " and scattered thoughte, and remembers that I am sure 1 don't vramt a present from Kate has expressed sympathy for Clement her; I only care to take presente from Graham. Thoughts of Clement Grahan people I love and trust." suggest thoughts of Bellaii's, and with " Tou must love and tmst a good round moan of bitter dread and shame he IL- number," Frank says; " yon told me members that she has cautioned him yesterday that you had put down the names against Bellairs, as a married man bent of four hundred people from whom you on concealing the fact of his marriage. expected gifts on the happy occasion." " It's a lie from beginning to end," he " I am happy to say that I don't know says, trying to impress May vrith an idea anyone like Miss Mervyn," May says vrith of his disbelief in it; " all the same, kill pointed emphasis. " No, Frank, I am not and bury it as carefully as if it were a jealous; I have not such a low opinion of truth." myself as io be jealous of a girl whom I " Tou won't wish me to associate with never heard anyone else admire but your­ Miss Mervyn nntU it is cleared up. Prank? self ; bnt when people outrage propriety, I A girl against whom such a charge is neither like nor trust them." made can hardly expect to come back and " How has she outraged propriety ? " be received as if nothing had happened." Frank asks in a passion. Kate to be spoken abont in this wav. " Ask yourself," May says, tersely. Kate, the freest, dearest, frankest woman "I do, and answer solemnly that she who had ever crossed his path; Kate, ni has never done so." whose veins hia own blood ran, who waa " Then I'll teU yon something that wiU dear to him as a cousin and member of make even you change that opinion," his own famUy, as well as dear to him aa May says, beginning to cry a little, for she the passion of his life! It ia all too is half frightened at her own audacity. hnmUiating, too sad a shame for a man to " She ran away with a married man once; bear up against. there!" " If it turns out to be trae," ho says, " Whoever told you so, lies." surrendering his first position of nttcr " It's very easy to say that, Frank, bnt disbeUef, " I shaU give up the game, and not at aU easy to prove it. I was dancing got out of the country " with a friend of Clement Graham's la«t " I'm not going to live abroad, because night, and we talked about poor Clement, yonr cousin has disgraced herself," May and he said he would teU me a romance in says, hardly. In justification of her real life, that was the commencement of hardness, it must be told that Frank's poor Clement's ruin. ShaU I toll it to yon ?" agony is agonizing to her. He is making Oharles DickenB.] A NARROW ESCAPE. [July 11,1871] 291 it so very plain to her, that Kate is precious was there, mamma, if you mean that," to him—that every blow aimed at her Gertrude says, in a manner that is as reputation strikes and hurts him. dignified, as the knowledge that she is " Use softer words, May," he says, shaking with mingled mortification and brokenly, " and be true to - me, by jealousy will allow her to make it. keeping this vrretched rumour to your­ "Even if he had known it, Kate self ; it may bo that we shall have to part; wouldn't have wanted him there; he's for—you speak of what you will do if not the sort of fellow Kate cares to ' my cousin has disgraced herself ;' now have hanging about her, she let me see understand once and for ever, that what­ that." ever may be the truth of it, I stand by " Kate is so clever, she lets every one her." see exactly what she wants to be seen," "I believe you'd rejoice in anything Gertrude says; " please don't look as if if it parted us, and left you free for her," you had just found out a conundrum, May sobs, and Prank feels that it is indeed Marian." a hopeless task to endeavour to get May "Tou're a riddle that anyone who runs to understand him after this. may read," the younger sister laughs out; "I'll clear it up," he tells himself, " I'll " but why this sudden family feeling as to go down to my poor darling, and if she Kate's whereabouts ? do you want to see teUs me it's true, I'U hunt down the our revered uncle again, Frank ? " fellow who wronged her, and I'll horse­ " I want to hear from herself whether whip any other fellow who ever speaks or not there is any foundation for an about it." infernal lie that is going about " He does not tell May of his intention of " About Kate herself ? " Gertrude asks. going down into Somersetshire. Miss " Abont Kate herself," her brother Constable is much occupied in her inte­ replies, and Gertrude flushes scarlet at the resting preparations, in superintending the recollection of the tale which has been composition of the various costumes, by told to her by Captain BeUairs. means of which she intends to vindicate "If I were in your place I wouldn't fish English taste on the continent, during the in troubled waters," Gertrude says, pre­ honeymoon. Frank has been offered his sently; "poor Kate, who has led such a freedom for three or four days, and he quiet, peaceful life ! What could be more means to avail himself of it. insulting and offensive to her than to go He has not attempted to come to a and tell her of any idle report that has definite determination as to what he shall been raised about her in town on account do, if the " wretched rumour" has the of her beauty and her charm; that's all it shghtest foundation. To "love Kate is, depend upon it, Frank. Now hasn't through it all," is his expressed resolve to May been teasing you ? May would himself, to revile her for having ever cared rejoice in your offending Kate; it would for another fellow sufficiently to com­ cut you off from your cousin for ever." promise herself, is his unexpressed one. " There is something in that," Frank Happily for everyone concerned, poor says, and he not only says it but he feels Kate is, as we know, innocent of every­ it. Nevertheless, the excuse to go down thing, save having made the mistake of and set straight a family crookedness is believing Clement Graham's word, rather too good a one to bo neglected. Accord­ than that of Captain Bellairs. ingly he gets up early the next morning, and is down at Lynmouth by six o'clock " Kate's at Lynmouth, isn't she ?" Frank in the evening. asks of his sister Gertrude this night, He hears of Mr. Angerstein's death, and when they all meet in the drawing-room, of the despair of Mr. Angerstein's widow, rather late, and each one fully occupied within ten minutes of his arrival. The with his or her own interests. despair (though neither he nor anyone " At Lynmouth ! " Gertrude ejaculates. else knows it), is consequent on the dere­ " Why it's to Lynmouth CaptaiuBellairs liction of duty of which in her own heart is gone, isn't it ? " Mrs. Forest questions, she knows herself to have been guilty. rearing herself up on the sofa. He also hears that the young lady " who is "The devil it is!" Frank puts in angrily, staying with Mrs. Angerstein has walked for the pieces of the puzzle are beginning up to Watersmeet this evening," and up to adjust themselves too nicely. to Watersmeet he follows her presently, " Harry BeUairs didn't know that Kate with his love and pride in arms, and his

=iP> Kv 292 [July 11,1871.) ALL THE TEAB BOUND. [Cmusic of her dreams. own eyes whether the three years of Wlien liquid elieeta of moonshine drowned annexation already elapsed had done any­ The darkness of the dell, thing to reconcile the hearts of the Lor- And made a mystic light around The chanting Philomel. rains and Alsatians to their conquerors. And thou whose lips soft language heard. Were they stiU as bitter and antagonistic ? The hearts fleet throbs among, Had the emigration been really as exten­ Sevealed without one uttered word. sive as was declared, and had not com­ The secret of all song. mercial and family interests begun to pre- Oh ! sUent lips that said so much. So sweetly and so plain. vaU as one might reasonably expect agtunst Why said yoa not I ne'er should touch their ruinous French patriotism ? Tour loveliness again P WeU, no. Entirely Gorman in language, I go—farewell dear love—but now in customs, and modes of life; German also The wanderer is removed. Forget not that he loved as thou in character, the Alsatians still seem more Wert worthy to be loved. French in heart than any other part of the " They're very pretty," Kate Mervyn's now BepubUc. voice says clearly, " but I don't quite like Startmg by raUroad from Luxembourg, your making a man rebuke a girl for not the Prussian element has already become being colder. Where is the woman who universal. The Prussian badge npon the could care for a man after he threw her red caps and uniforms of the oflicials, has back upon herself in that way ? " replaced the lion rampant of Belgium, and " The woman is here if she loved the their superior organisation makes itself man before he said it," Captain BeUairs recognised at once by the absence of all the says ; " Kate, the meaning of that song is jostling, and crowding, and counter cnr- for you; why have you given me the joy rente one haa been used to in Belgium. of this evening, why have you shown me My neighbour, a Messin, waa soon in that I am unforgiven, and, therefore, un- conversation on the two ineritable topics, forgotten, stUl, if you can't go any further French politics and the annexation. Any ^—^if you can't " one accustomed to Prench society knows " Oh! Frank, Frank," she cries out, how easUy each political partisan annihi­ rising and stretehing her hands out lates his adversary. Aa a Republican, towards him as he breaks through the therefore, my companion naturally bore boughs that are bending down and over- down, at one feU swoop, upon LegitimisiiS, shading the bend of the river by lovely Imperialists, and above aU the hybrid Watersmeet. government called the party of order, now ^ Oharles Dickens.J LORRAINE AND ALSACE. [July 11,1874.1 293

<<3o strangely uppermost. Then came the Un homme qui aimait la Prance—celui ;ry from his deepest heart, " Bnt whatever la ! un vrai patrioti ! " 3ur divisions, all parties are one upon the "But since you have not chosen French * subject of oui- provinces—they can never nationality, and are still living at Sargue­ remain as they are now; war is inevitable, mines, you are not French now, and your and the one indisputable necessity with sons will have to bear arms with the igvery party is to prepare our army as Prussians," I remarked. iquicklyas possible for the fierce struggle." " Oh, never!" was the excited retort, No wonder he could not forget his " My son is a child of three years old, so -longings for one instant. There, in sight I can stay without danger. Before he of that world-renowned Metz—there, on grows a man, able to bear arms, what will ^very side as we travel through that beauti- not have happened ? All will be changed; tiful plain of Lori-aine—is the German and if not, there 'is emigration still left for ;.ofiicial; while all the railway stock, every him." i truck, every wagon, every carriage, and I do not cite a French conimer9ante as .even every window blind, is marked with a very exalted type of patriotism; but, : those words, " Elsass—Lothringen," so from the fierce tone of her reply, it was terribly offensive to a Frenchman's heart! evident that the very idea of her son A French priest and two old French wearing a Prussian uniform was an insult, ladies were my other companions, and we which even self-interest could not make ^ were joined later by a well-to-do woman, endurable to her. who at once informed us that she was Further on in Alsace I learnt the in business at Sarguemines, and pro­ terrible straits to which some families ceeded to expatiate upon the stagnation have been brought by the choice of of business since the war, " not that the nationality. "Nearly all that have re­ Prussians vex us, or are not bien gentil," mained by the force of circumstances," she observed, " only no one in the pro­ one lady told me, "are separated from vinces has any confidence. Old firms that their sons, who are all sent to Nancy or have made money enough, retire; others the nearest French town for education. that were doing a good business, have left Nancy is so crowded now, that only a (I was afterwards told of five which small apartment of five rooms can be ob­ had settled with all their workmen at tained at a rent of five thousand francs Elboeuf), and others that were begin­ (about two hundred pounds). We are ning, have not ventured to continue. forced to send our sons away, and can­ Then we have been drained of money," not have them back even to see us: we she went on to say, " by requisitions are obliged to go to them." Then the first, and increased taxation since, so everlasting reiteration of inevitable war that le commerce est bien maUieureux. closes the subject. The rich have often been able to make good their claims, and obtain some kind Sarguemines is reached, and we have of restitution, but we smaller folks, on parted with the loquacious representative whom the war fell heaviest, have had no of French trade and have taken in a new chance of indemnity, and have almost companion, come to join the two French always lost all that was taken from us by ladies with their Uttle boys. A very force. But we must be patient, so many different stamp these : types of the upper have lost so much more by the war," she classes living in retirement on their own added, pointing out different localities on property. The gentleman evidently of the our road, and relating of each ite tale of same class. anguish, winding up with the account of a Hearing from his old friends of my monumeut she had just been to see at nationality, he began at once to speak a Rheims, erected in honour of Monsieur le few words of English to me. I soon Cure, who had been shot by the Prussians found out that it was more than the usual for having concealed some arms in his French vanity that induced him to display house. " A veritable saint, and a patriot, his knowledge of our language. " I was if ever there was one," was her reflection. in England last December, stopping at "His very last words, to some of his the Cannon Street Hotel, during that fog friends who were weeping around him at which did so much damage at the Agri­ the terrible death that awaited him, were, cultural Hall. I was there," he continued, ' Do not weep for me. I am so happy; so noticing my surprise that he should choose wiUing to die for God and my country!' a City hotel, and at that time of year, " to study the principle of the steam plough." J ^

294 [July 11,1874.] ALL THB TEAB BOUITD. [ComiuotellT

I put Monsieur de K—^y down as a country Alas! alas ! from the bitter tone ai. proprietor in search of recent iraprove- words it was evident that the wound iru mente to introduce among his tenante. as fresh aa ever, and that time had done' He did not leave me long in ignorance of nothing to calm the feelings of the Messir his interest in the steam plough. towards the new masters of their nnhair " Oh ! yon cannot think," he exclaimed city I ' enthusiastically, "how good the English In quaint, mediceval, busy Strashonn; have been to ua Meaaina. I was shut up one could be less oblirious than anywhae in Metz through aU the siege. When it else of the change that had taken place. was all over it was your compatriote that German aeemed the imiversal languam' brought the first relief. Do you know and German soldiers were everywhere! any of the Society of Friends that were On the BrogUe Platz, where the military sent to ns ? It is perfectly incredible how music plays, they were Uterally swarming. Uberal and good they were; Ah I how Superior officers were parading about much wo owe them !" Then he began with the air of proud possession, accom­ enumerating aU the great names in the panied by their wives and half-a-down Quaker community, well known indeed fair daughters, or aitting under the trees, for their deeds of mercy at home, that drinking beer and smoking to their entered Metz immediately upon ite faU aa hearte' content, whUe the whole avenne meaaengers of love, at the aame time that was covered vrith soldiers and the lower the Pruasians entered—^the objecte of class of the townsfolk with their childien. unntterable hatred. He went on telling Of the gentlefolks, even of the conune^ how they brought food, clothing, agricul­ cial class, there was, however, not om tural implemente; and, beet of all, the representetive. The French people, as the ateam plough. How they stayed among French language, was conspicnons by ite them all that winter, always doing angels' complete absence; and I concluded that work : the men in their strength and the aentimente that could keep the French capaoity among tbe healthy and strong, away from anything that had in it the the women in their tenderness among the least element of pleasure or display, mnst sick and weak. How I wish our "friends " be deep rooted indeed. in England could have heard how their Only at the cathedral was I unpleasantly work was appreciated I " I was one of impressed on hearing a sermon in Prench the most active," he continued, "in getting upon the text "Forgive your enemies" up the testimonial that the Messins sent applied poUticaUy. Sublime maxim I— to aU the members of the deputation, and difficult of application at all tunes, he- through them we hope to subscribers all over tween nations impossible, till patriotisiii England and even in the United States." and independence have become empty 'The tide of his gratitude had ebbed words. Time only can effect a change. itself out for the moment, and the " Faut du temps," observed my boat of subject of the siege naturally came to the " Mouton," in a smaU town of the the front. "Do I beUeve Bazaine was Voages; "deux generations au moiiM guUty ? Indeed I know he was ten timea avant de pouvoir les supporter." more ao than his trial proved him, and StUl, though the annexation is the had he not been a marshal of iWice most fatal effect of the war, involving as he would certaiiJy have been shot, aa he it docs the probable renewal of hostilities deserved. We, who knew everything that at no very distant date, yet one mnst had taken place in Metz, would any of ns in fairness acknowledge that never have been only too glad to have done it was conquered country more graciously ourselves. We knew that he could have governed, and never were conquerors in- held out much longer: knew that offers in diridually better conducted. " They do abundance were made by opulent and all their possible" (said an inhabitant of influential men to obtain supplies of food Saveme to me) "to make themaelves and provender, if only he would hazard liked; and were they not our enemios, I some mUitary movement: knew finally should really feel sorry for their position. that Metz was surrendered upon the un­ But for all that no one wiU associate with derstanding that Prussia would reinstate them. Most of the rich, who could leave, the Emperor, and that the one hundred have left. M. About is no solitary in- and seventy thousand men who were to atence. Others, like him, have refused go into captirity from Mete were to bring to sell their lovely country houses to back and support the &Uen dynasty." Prussian bidders; and so they have shut =1 ^^

Oharles Dickens.] LORRAINE AND ALSACE. [July U, 1874.] 295 them up and left them in charge of " And has the hostiUty died out against their gardeners, and will never return you ?" I asked. until Alsace again changes hands. Those " Among the townspeople, yes. I have who are forced to remain live in complete been so long among them—for I was retirement; our once gay little town is like educated here, and have lived here nearly dead." all my Ufe—that they know me almost as Conciliatory and well-conducted, I judged a Frenchwoman; but someiaelonging to tho the Germans indeed to be, from the accounts upper classes, who were formerly among given me by a lady, the head of a large my best friends, wiU not approach the school for young ladies in the Vosges. house because of my nationality. ' I am Several times during the war she had had sorry I cannot see you or have you to stay twenty-five or thirty soldiers quartered with us,' wrote a young lady living not upon her for days together, occupying the far from here on a large property to one lower part of her establishment, while the of my pupUs, who was her most intimate young ladies were left in quiet possession friend; ' but it is impossible for me to of the upper stories. " Nothing could be put my foot into that German woman's more quiet, modest, and unexacting than house.'" their conduct," she observed to me. " They The educated classes who have been seemed anxious to spare me any unneces­ forced by their business or property to sary expense, and were always satisfied stay, and who, being without sons, have with anything that was provided for them. been able to do so and still to remain When at one time twenty-eight men, Prench, seem to be the most exasperated without any officer, were sent, I began to of all against the Prussian rule, and treat feel very alarmed; but it was quite un­ the Germans with the utniost contempt. necessary—everything was as quiet as if " If I see a German coming near me in no soldiers were there. Not one ever ven­ the street," observed a Colmar lady to me, tured beyond their own precincts; and "I cross to the other side, just as if a when they used to dine after the young leprous or plague-smitten person were ap­ ladies in the dining-hall, they were far more proaching me;" and even when circum­ quiet than the girls had been." stances have brought about some slight "Would French soldiers have been so acquaintance, as is inevitable in large discreet ? " came to the tip of my tongue, cities, the French man or woman wiU when my friend continued—" I cannot never vouchsafe the slightest bow or re­ boast of the same consideration from the cognition, to such German acquaintances townspeople. I have lived here more than if they happen to meet in the street. twenty years, and in that time have At Colmar, the chief town of the de­ become completely French; but it was partment, irritating changes, increased enough that my origin was German, for taxation, forced family separations, with them to want to wreak their vengeance divers other vexations, seem to have filled upon me after the fall of Metz. In that the cup of bitterness to overflowing. "The first outburst of frenzy against Germany, town has become the most deadly, dull, the mass of the lower classes here rose stupid place in the world," said one of the simultaneously and threatened to attack inhabitants to me; "dead to everything my house, where thirty-six young ladies except hatred of the Germans. I went were being educated. It was a terrible into a shop the other day, and remarked moment for me. The doctor took me upon a tapestry pattern that was hanging under his protection, declaring that he in the window that it came from Berlin. would shoot the first man who dared to 'Mon Dieu! mon dieu!' exclaimed the pass my gates. I meanwhile screwed up shopkeeper in an agony; ' do not breathe my courage to the utmost, and went to such a thing, I beg of you! _ I should the mairie, where I gave notice that never have a French customer in my shop it would go badly with any who at­ again.' 'Tou should put "Paris" in tempted violence on my house. I had large letters on it to secure a good stroke EngUsh, French, and German young of business,' I observed; and the advice ladies ; above aU, I had the daughter of a was so warmly responded to that I am German general. They might expect sure it will be followed." summary vengeance if my house were There is stiU Mulhouse to speak of, not respected. On hearing this the roughs which, though not the chef lieu, is the abandoned their hostile intentions, and my most important town in Alsace; and there house remained unmolsBted." the almost exaggerated patriotism of all =r ^ ^ A= 296 [July 11,1874.] ALL THE TEAB BOUKD. lOondoctedby

classes permits, as yet, of no hope of recon­ "PAT HEBE." ciliation vrith the Germans. Mulhouse, vrith its large population of ACTING, as a distinct profession, seems to manufacturers and their workmen, has have been known in England at least as only become French since 1796, and yet, far back as the reign of Henry the Sixth. more than any other tovfn of Alsace, it is There had been theatrical eidiibitions m heart and soul French—its every interest abundance, however, at a much earher 1 seems bound up with France—ite every period. Stow, in hia Survey of London, m heart-beat resents the cruel way in which 1599, tranalatea from the Life of Thomas it has been made over against ite wiU to a Becket, by Fitzstephen, who wrote ahout "the power of the conqueror. 1182, mention of " the shews upon theatres And now that I have traversed the and comical pastimes " of London, " its aimexed provinces from end to end, I holy playes, representations of miracles think that I am entirely satisfied upon which holy coiJessors have wrought, or the subject that so interested me in start­ representations of tormentes wherem the ing, and can f uUy endorse an opinion that constancie of martirs appeared." As Mr. I heard from an Alsatian, " Better far if Payne ColUer observes, " no country in Prussia had asked double the indemnity, Europe, since the revival of letters, has and had not annexed our provinces." been able to produce any notice of theatrical But Strasbourg must be reached again; performances of so early a date aa England." bright pretty Strasbourg with its wondrous But our primitive stage was a chapel-of- cathedral, ite quaint picturesque houses ease, as it were, to the Church. The plays and squares, and ite weU-known storka were founded npon the lives of the sainte, stiU buUding their neste on the highest or upQn the events of the Old and New chimneys, or swimming so motionlesa Testaments, and were contrived and per­ throngh the air—birda of good omen, per­ formed by the clergy, who borrowed horses, haps, even in thia day of great diateeaa harness, properties, and haUowed vestments for the city they protect; then on to from the monasteries, and did not hesitate Paris. Bnt how changed it is from former even to paint and disguise their faces, in days ! For two hours and more we travel order to give due effect to their exhibitions, on, and France is not yet reached: over which were presented, not only in the the smiling plains and fertUe fields of cathedrals, churches, and cemeteries, hnt Alsace to Avricourt, now the frontier also "on highways or greens," as might he station, where first the French official most convenient. In 1511, for instance, presents himself! And in very truth, the miracle-play of Saint George of Cappa- English though I am, I had been so grieved docia was acted in a croft, or field, at Basing- and excited by acquaintance with these bome, one shilling being paid for the hire captive provinces and their people, that of the land. The clergy, however, were by when at last I was on French ground, and no means unanimous as to the propria^ heard again the language so familiar and policy of these dramatic representa­ and so sweet to me, I could have wrung tions. They were bitterly attacked in an the man's hand from sheer sorrow and Anglo-French poem, the Manuel de PMiS, sympathy. written abont the middle of the thirteenth century, and ascribed to Robert Grossetete, Little does any German in Alsace ignore who became Bishop of Lincoln in 1235. the reception that awaite the French soldier Gradually the kind of histrionic monopoly from the inhabitants, the day that he first which the Church had long enjoyed was plants his foot upon the soil of these much invaded. Education spread, and manypro- loved and mnch loring provinces, of which bably found themselves as competent to act France has such reason to be proud. The aa the clergy. StiU, the ecclesiastical per- more necessary is it, then, for the impetuous formera for some time resisted aU attempts nation to leam to wait the course of evente to interfere with what they riewed as their that may, and most probably wUl come to especial privUeges and vested interests. In its aid to favour the hard struggle that 1378 the scholars or choristers of St Paul's futurity reserves for it. The past has petitioned Richard the Second to prohibit taught the necessity of being ready; certain ignorant and inexperienced persona vrisdom also, and the knowledge of what from acting the History of the Old Testa­ is passing in Germany, would cry—Bide ment to the prejudice of the clergy of the your time, or as their own proverb ex­ Church, who had expended large sums in presses it more fuUy, Tout vient a .point a preparing plays fgjmded upon the same qni sait attendre.

Tf 1^ =:i3 Oharles Dickens.] 'PAT HERB. [July 11,1874] 297 subject. But some few years later the their labours much after the manner of our parish clerks of London, who had been in­ modem street exhibitors : by that system corporated by Henry the Third, performed of "sending round the hat," which too at Skinner's Well, near Smithfield, in the many lookers-on now-a-days consider as an presence of the king, queen, and nobles of intimation to depart about their business, the realm, a play which occupied three days leaving their entertainment unpaid for. in representation. As Warton remarks, The companies of players in the service of however, in his History of English Poetry, any great personage were paid by regular the parish clerks of that time might fairly salaries, were viewed as members of his be regarded as a " literary society," if they household, and wore his livery. They prt)- did not precisely come under the denomi­ bably received, moreover, largess from the nation of a religious fraternity. more liberally disposed spectators of their The religious or miracle plays soon ex­ exertions. But as the theatre became more tended their boundaries, became blended and more a source of public recreation, it with " mummings," or " disguisings," and was deemed necessary to establish perma­ entertainments of pageantry. Morals, in­ nent stages, and a tanff of charges, for ad­ terludes, and masques were gradually mission to witness the entertainments. Por brought upon the scene. Dancers, singers, a long time the actors had been restricted jugglers, and minstrels became indispens­ to the mansions of the nobility, and to the able to the performances. The Church and larger inn-yards of the city. In 1574, the theatre drifted apart; were viewed in however, the Earl of Leicester, through time as wholly independent establishments. his influence with Queen Elizabeth, ob­ The actor asserted his individuality; his tained for his company of players, among profession was recognised as distinct and whom was included James Burbadge, the complete in itself; companies of players father of the famous Shakespearian actor, began to stroll through the provinces. The Richard Burbadge, a patent, under the early moral-play of the Castle of Perse­ great seal, empowering the actors, "during verance, which is certainly as old as the the queen's pleasure, to use, exercise, and reign of Henry the Sixth, was represented occupy the art and faculty of playing by itinerant actors, who travelled round tragedies, comedies, interludes, and stage the country for that purpose, preceded by plays, as well for the recreation of the their standard-bearers and trumpeters, to queen's subjects as for her own solace and announce on what day, and at what hour, pleasure, within the City of London and the performance would take place. It its Uberties, and within any cities, towns, would seem that the exhibition concluded and boroughs throughout England." at nine o'clock in the moming, so that the This most important concession to the playgoers of the period must probably players was strenuously opposed by the have assembled so early as six. In the Lord Mayor and Corporation, who main­ reign of Edward tjie Fourth the actors tained that " the playing of interludes and first obtained parliamentary recognition. the resort to the same " were likely to pro­ The act passed in 1464, regulating the voke " the infection of the plague," were apparel to be worn by the different classes " hurtfull in corruption of youth," were of society, contains special exception in " great wasting both of the time and, favour of henchmen, pursuivante, sword- thrift of many poor people," and " great bearers to mayors, messengers, minstrels, withdrawing of the people from publique and " players in their interludes." The prayer and from the service of God." At first royal personage who entertained a last they proposed, as a compromise, that company of players as his servants was the players of the queen, or of Lord probably Richard the Third when Duke Leicester—for these titles seem to have of Gloucester, who seems, moreover, to been bestowed upon the actors indiffe­ have given great encouragement to music rently—should be permitted to perform and musicians. In the reign of Henry the within the city boundaries upon certain Seventh dramatic representations were special conditions, to the effect that their frequent in all parts of England. The names and number should be notified king himself had two companies of players, to the Lord Mayor and the Justices of the "gentlemen of the chapel," and his Middlesex and Surrey, and that they " players of interludes." should not divide themselves into several companies; that they should be con­ The early actors, whose performances tent with playing in private houses, at took place in the open air or in public weddings, &c., without public assemblies. places, doubtless obtained recompense for >r CJC: IWIy 11,1874.) 1 ALL THB TBAB BOUND. [Coiidiut«db^

or " if more be thought good to be tole­ in the Gull's Horn Book, 1609—"Yom rated," that they shonld not play openly groundling and gaUery commoner buys his tUl the whole deatha in London had been sport for a penny "—it is apparent that the for twenty daya under fifty a week; that charges for admission to the yard, where they should not play on the Sabbath or on the spectators stood, and to the galleries holy days nntU after evening prayer; and where they sat on benches were tho same. that no playing should be in the dark, In Dekkers' Satiromastix, one of the cha^ " nor continue any such time but as any of racters speaks scornfully of " penny bench the auditoire may retume to their dwell­ theatres," where " a gentleman or an honest ings in London before aonne-set, or at least citizen " mighty ait" with hia squirrel by before it be dark." These severe restric­ his aide cracking nute." But according tions so far defeated the objects of the to the Induction to Ben Jonson's Bartho­ civic powers, that they led in truth to the lomew Fair, firat acted in 1C14, at the construction of three theatres beyond the Hope, a amall dirty theatre on the Bank- Lord Mayor's jurisdiction, but sufficiently aide, which had formerly been used for near to ite boundaries to occasion him bear-baiting, the prices there ranged from grave disquietude. About 1576 Burbadge sixpence to half-a-crown. " It shall be bnUt his theatre in the Liberty of the Black- lawful for any man to judge his six pen'- friars—a precinct in which civic authority worth, his twelve pen'worth, so to his was at any rate disputed. Within a year eighteen pence, two shillings, haif-a-crown, or so The Curtain and The Theatre, both to the value of his place ; prorided always in Shoreditch, were alao opened to the his place get not above his wit.. . Marry, pnbUc. The mayor and corporation per- if he drop but sixpence at the door, aiatently endeavoured to assert authority and wiU censure a crown's worth, it is over these eatabliahmente, but vrithout thought there is no conscience or justice in much practical result. It may be added that." So in the Induction to his Magnetic that the Blackfriars Theatre waa perma­ Lady, Jonson speaks of " Tour people that nently closed in 1647, and part of the ait in the obUque caves and wedges of your ground on which it stood, adjoining Apo­ house, your sinful sixpenny mechainicks." thecaries' Hall, atUl bears the name of It is probable, however, that the dramatist Playhouse-yard; that the theatre in Shore- was referring to the prices charged at the ditch was abandoned about 1598 (it was first representetion of his play. Sixpence probably a wooden erection, and in twenty might then be the lowest admission; on years might have become untenantable) ; other occasions, twopence, or even one and that the Curtain fell into disuse at the penny. beginning of the reign of Charles the First. The Prologue to Henry the Eighth states— The prices of admission to the theatres Those that come to see Only a show or two, and 60 agree varied according to the estimation in which The play may paaa; if they be Btill and wiUing they were held, and was raised on special I'll undertake may see away their shilHog occasions. "Twopennyrooms,"orgaUeries, Bichly in two short hours. were to be found at the larger and more And there is eridence that in Shakespeare's popular theatrea. In Goffe'a Careless time one shiUing waa the price of admission Shepherdess, 1666, acted at the Salisbury to the best rooms or boxes. Sir Thomas Court Theatre, appear the lines— Overbury writes in Characters, published 1 will hasten to the money box in 1614: " If he have but twelve pence in And take my shilling oufe again, his purse he vriU give it for the best room I'll go to the Bull or Fortune, and there see in a play-house." And the Gull's Horn A play for two-pence and a jig to boot. Book, 1609, counsels," At a new play yon The money received was placed in a box, take np the twelvepenny room next tho and there seems to have been one person stage, because the lords and you may seem specially charged with this duty. Dekker, to be hail feUow weU met! " dedicating one of his plays to has " friends But it is plain that the tariff of admia- and fellows," the queen's servante, wishes sions waa subject to frequent alteration, them " a f uU audience and one honest door­ and that as money became more abundant, keeper." Even thus early the absolute the managers gradually increased their integrity of the attendante of the theatre charges. In the Scornful Lady " eighteen would appear to have been a subject of pence" ia referred to as though it were suspicion. " Penny gaUeriea " are referred the highest price of admission to the to by some early writers, and from a paasage Blackfriars Theatre. Sir John Suckhng

^ Charles Dickens.] "PAY HERE.' [July 11.1874] 299 ' writes, probably about the middle of the nothing see an act in the School of Com- seventeenth century— pUments, at the Duke of York's house, The sweat of learned Jonson's brain. and Henry the Fourth at the King's And gentle Shakespeare's easier strain, House ; but not liking either of the plays, A haclcnoy coach conveys you to. In spite of all that rain con do, I took my coach again, and home." At And tor your eighteen-peuco you sit, the trial of Lord Mohun, in 1692, for the Tho lord aud judge of all fresh wit. murder of Mountford, the actor, John It must always be doubtful, however, as Rogers, one of the doorkeepers of the to the precise portion of the theatre these theatr.e, deposes that he applied to his writers intended to designate. As Mr. lordship and to Captain Hill, his com­ ColUer suggests, the discordances between panion, "for the overplus of money for the authorities on this question arise, no coming in, because they came out of the doubt, from the fact that " different prices pit upon the stage. They would not give were charged at different theatres at diffe­ it. Lord Mohun said if I brought any rent periods." of our masters he would slit their noses." In our early theatres, the arrangements It was the fashion for patrons of the stage for receiving the money of the playgoers at this time to treat its professors with were rather of a confused kind. There great scorn, and often to view them with would seem to have been several doors, a kind of vindictive jealousy. " I see the one within the other, at any of which gallants do begin to be tired with the visitors might tender their admission vanity and pride of the theatre actors, who money. It was understood that he who, are indeed grown very proud and rich," disapproving the performance, withdrew noted Pepys, in 1661. In the second year after the termination of the first act of the of her reign. Queen Anne issued a decree play, was entitled to receive back the " for the better regulation of the theatres," amount he had paid for his entrance. This the drama being at this period the fre­ system led to' much brawling and fraud. quent subject of royal interference, and The matter was deemed important enough strictly commanded that " no person of to justify royal intervention. An order what quality soever should presume to go was issued in 1(565, reciting that complaints behind the scenes, or come upon the stage, had been made by " our servants, the actors either before or during the acting of any in the Royal Theatre," of divers persons play ; that no woman should be aUowed, refusing to pay at the first door of the said or presume to wear, a vizard mask in theatre, thereby obliging the doorkeepers to either of the theatres ; and that no person send after, solicit, and importune them for should come into either house without their entrance-money, and stating it to be paying the price established for their re­ the royal will and pleasure, for the pre­ spective places." vention of these disorders, and so that such As the stage advanced more and more as are employed by the said actors might in pubUc favour, the actors ceased to de­ have no opportunity of deceiving them, pend for existence upon private patronage, that all persons thenceforward coming to and found it unnecessary to be included the said theatre should at the first door among the retinue and servants of the pay their entrance-money, which was to be great. After the Restoration patents were restored to them again in case they re- granted to KiUigrew and Davenant, and bimed the same way before the end of the their companies were described as the act. The guards attending the theatre, and servants of the king and of the Duke of aU others whom it might concern, were Tork respectively; but individual noble­ charged to see that this order was obeyed, men no longer maintained and protected and to return to the Lord Chamberlain " players of interludes" for their ovra the names of such persons as offered "^any private amusement. And now the court violence contrary to this our pleasure." began to come to the drama, instead of requiring that the drama should be in­ Apparently the royal decree was not variably carried to the court. Charles very impUcitly obeyed by the playgoers. the Second was probably the first English At any rate we find, under date, January monarch who joined with the general the 7th, 1668, the foUowing entry in Mr. audience, and occupied a box at a Pepys's Diary bearing upon the matter. public theatre. In addition, he followed " To the Nursery, but the house did not the example of preceding sovereigns, and act to-day; and so I to the other two had plays frequently represented before playhouses, into tho pit, to gaze up and him at Whitehall and other royal resi- down, and there did by this means for

X" A= 300 tJnly 11.18J4.] AT.Ti THE TEAB BOUHI). [Ooodnctalbj

dences. These performances took place at more. Altogether, it may perhaps be hcK; night, and were brilliantly lighted with that in western London, although thea­ wax candles. The public representatioms trical entertainments have been consider­ were in the afternoon, and usually Ulu- ably cheapened, they still tax the pockc- mined vrith some three pounds of tellow of playgoers more severely than need be. candles, although KiUigrew claimed credit Country managers would seem to have for introducing " wax candles, and many ruled their scale of charges in strict ac­ of them," at the Theatre Boyal. With cordance vrith the means of their patrons; to the fall of the Stuart dynasty the.court have been content, indeed, with anything theatricals ceased almost altogether. In­ they could get from the prorincial play, deed, in Charles's time there had been goers. Mr. Bernard, tbe actor, in his much decline in the dignity and exclusive- Betrospections, makes mention of a strol­ ness of these entertainmente; admission ling manager, once famous in tbe north of seems to have been obtainable upon pay­ England and in Ireland, and known popu­ ment at the doors as thongh at a public larly as Jemmy Whitely, who, in impo­ theatee. Evelyn writes in 1676 : " I saw verished districte, was indifferent as to the Italian Scaramuccio act before the whether he received tbe pubUc support m Iring at Whitehall, people giring money money or " in kind." It is related of him to come in, which was very scandalous, that he would teke meat, fowl, vegetables, and never so before at court diversions. &c., and pass in the owner and friends Having seen him act in Italy many yeara for as many admisaiona as the food was past, I waa not averse from seeing the worth. Thus very often on a Saturday, most exceUent of that kind of folly." his treasury resembled a buteher's ware­ It is to be observed that in Pepys's time, house, rather than a banker's. At a and long afterwards, the pricea of admission rillage on the coast the inhabitants to the theatres were: boxes four shUlings, brought him nothing but fish; but as the pit two shUlings and sixpence, firat gallery, company could not subsist without its con­ one ahiUing and aixpence, and upper gallery comitants of bread, potatoes, and spirits, one ahiUing. He records, in 1667, hia occu­ a general appeal waa made to his stomach pying a seat in the boxes for the first time and aympathiea, and some alteration in in hia life, and alludes with regret to the the terms of admission required. Jemmy, number of "ordinary prentices and mean accordingly, after admitting nineteen per­ people," he observes, " in the pit at two sons one evening for a shad apiece, stopped shillings and sixpence apiece; I going for the twentieth, and said, " 1 beg yonr several years no higher than the twelve- pardon, my darling, I am extremely sorry pence and then the eighteenpence, though to refuse you; but if we eat any more fish, I strained hard to go in then when I did." by tbe powers, we shall all be turned into It long continued to be the custom to raise mermaids." the prices whenever great expenses had A famous provincial manager, or man­ been incurred by the manager in the pro­ ageress, was one Mrs. Baker, concerning duction of a new play or of a pantomime. whom curious particulars are related in A disturbance in Druiy Lane Theatre in the memoirs of Thomas Dibdin, and in 1744, on account of the alleged capricious- the Life of Grimaldi, the clown. The lady neaa of the manager in varying his tariff of owned theatres at Canterbury, Roobeater, charges, led to a notification in the playbills, Maidstone, Tunbridge Wells, Feversham, to the effect that " whenever a pantomime Deal, and other places, but was understood or farce shall be advertised, the advanced to have commenced her professional career prices shall be returned to those who do in connection with a puppet-show, or oven not choose to stey." As the patent theatres the homely entertainment of Punch and were enlarged or rebuilt, however, the Judy. Bnt her industry, energy, and en­ higher rate of charges became permanently terprise were of an indomitable kind. She establiahed. After the famous 0. P. riots generaUy Uved in her theatres, and rismg the scale agreed upon was : Boxes, seven early to accomplish her marketing and shiUings; pit, three shiUings; galleries, two other household duties, she proceeded to ahUlings and one shilling; with half price take up her position in tbe box-oflicei at nine o'clock. In later times these charges with the box-book open before her, and have been considerably reduced. Half price resting upon it " a massy silver inkstand, has been generally abolished, however, and which,Jvrith a auperb pair of sUver (rum- many rows of the pit have been converted pets, several cups, tankards, and candle­ into stalls at seven ahUlings each, or even sticks of the same pure metal, it was her Oharles Sjckene.'l "PAT HERE." [July 11,1874.] 301 honest pride to say she had paid for with Mrs. Baker observed, as she returned the her own hard earnings." While awaiting entrance-money, " Foolish woman ! Foolish the visits of those desirous to book their woman ! Don't come another night tUl places for the evening, she arranged the half-price, and then give your baby some programme of the entertainments. Her Dalby's Carminative." "I remember," education was far from complete, however, writes Dibdin, " one very crowded night, for although she could read, she was patronised by a royal duke at Tunbridge but an indifferent scribe. By the help of Wells, when Mrs. Baker was taking money scissors, needle, thread, and a bundle of for three doors at once, her anxiety and old playbills, she achieved her purpoes. very proper tact led her, while receiving She cut a play from one bUl, an interlude cash from one customer, to keep an eye in from another, a farce from a third, and perspective on the next, to save time, as sewing the slips neatly together avoided thus : " Little gu-1! get your money ready, the use of pen and ink. When the name while this gentlemun pays. My lord! I'm of a new performer had to be introduced sure your lordship has silver. Let that she left a blank to be filled up by the first little boy go in while I give his lordship of her actors she happened to encounter, change. Shan't count after your ladyship. presuming him to be equal to the use of Here comes the duke ! Make haste ! His a pen. She sometimes beat the drum, or royal highness will please to get his ticket tolled the bell behind the scenes, when the ready while my lady—now sir ! Now yeur representation needed such embellishments, royal highness !" " Oh dear, Mrs. Baker, and occasionally fulfilled the duties of I've left my ticket in another coat pocket!" prompter. In this respect it was unavoid­ " To be sure you have ! Take your royal able that she should be now and then highness's word ! Let his royal highness rather overtasked. On one special evening pass ! His royal highness has left his ticket she held the book during the performance in his other coat-pocket." Great laughter of the old farce of Who's the Duke ? The followed, and I beUeve the rank and fashion part of Gradus was undertaken by her of the evening found more entertainment leading actor, one Gardner, and in the in the lobby than on the stage. scene of Gradus's attempt to impose upon the gentleman of the story, by affecting to On the occasion of Grimaldi's engage­ speak Greek, the performer's memory un­ ment, "for one night only," it was found fortunately failed him. He glanced ap- necessary to open the doors of the Maid­ pealingly towards the prompt-side of stone Theatre at a very early hour, to relieve the stage. Mrs. Baker was mute, ex­ the thoroughfare of the dense crowd which amining the play-book with a puzzled air. had assembled. The house, being quite " Give me the word, madam," whispered full, Mrs. Baker locked up the box in the actor. " It's a hard word, Jem," the which the receipts of the evening had been lady replied. " Then give me the next ? " deposited, and, going round to the stage, " That's harder." The performer was at directed the performances to be commenced a stand-stUl; the situation was becoming forthwith, remarking, reasonably enough, desperate. "The next," cried Gardner, "that the house could but be full, and being furiously. " Harder still! " answered the fnll to the ceiling now, they might just as prompter, and then, perplexed beyond well begin at once, and have business over bearing, she flung the book on the stage, so much the sooner." Greatly to the satis­ and exclaimed, aloud : " There, now, you faction of the audience, the representation have them aU; take your choice." accordingly began without delay, and ter­ minated shortly after nine o'clock. The lady's usual station was in front of It should be added that Mrs. Baker had the house, however. She was her own been a dancer in early life, and was long money-taker, and to this fact has been famed for the grace of her carriage and the ascribed the great good fortune she en­ elegance of her curtsey. Occasionally she joyed as a manager. " Now then, pit or ventured upon the stage dressed in the box, pit or gallery, box or pit!" she cried bonnet and shawl she -had worn while re­ incessantly. " Pit! Pit! " half-a-dozen ceiving money and issuing checks at the voices might cry. " Then pay two shillings. door, and in audible tones announced the Pass on, Tom Fool!" for so on busy nighte performances arranged for future evenings, she invariably addressed her patrons of aU the audience enthusiastically welcoming classes. To a woman who had to quit the her appearance. A measure of her mani­ theatre, owing to the cries of the child she fold talents was shared by other members bore in her arms disturbing the audience, of her family. Her sister. Miss Wakelin, =P

•^-^ 302 [Jiiiy 11,187*.] ALL THB TBAB BOUND. tOonasotsdb; was principal comio dancer to the theatre, ments vrith "the manageress." Dibdin occasional actress, wardrobe-keeper, and wrote the epitaph inscribed above her grare professed cook, being rewarded for her in the cathedral yard of Bochcster. A few various serrices by board and lodging, a linea may be extracted, but it must be said salary of a guinea and a half per week, and that the composition is of inferior quality: a benefit in every town Mrs. Baker visited, Alone, nntaoght. vrith other emolumente by way of per­ And self-assisted (save by Heaven), she taoght quisites. Two of Mrs. Baker's daughters To resider each his own, and fairly save What might help othera when she foond a graie, were also members of her company, and By prudence taught life's troubled waves to stem, dirided between them the heroines of In death her memory shines, a rich, unpolished gem. tragedy and comedy. One Miss Baker It is conceivable—so much may perhaps subsequently became the wife of Mr. be added by way of concluding note- Dowton, the actor. that Mrs. Baker unconsciously posed as a A settled distrust of the Bank of Eng­ model, and lent a feature or two, when land was one of Mrs. Baker's most marked the portrait came to be painted of even a peculiarities. At the close of the perform­ more distinguished manageress, whose ance ahe reaigned the poaition she had theatre waa a caravan, however, whose occnpied for some five hours as money- company consisted of waxen effigies, and taker for pit, boxes, and gaUery, and re­ who bore the name of Jarley. tired to her chamber, carrying the receipte of the evening in a large front pocket. APTEE NIGHT. This money she added to a store contained TJp-SPniNns the lark all boisterous, jnbilaDt, in. half-a-dozen large china punch-bowls, Prom out the yellow wheat, with vigorous flight, Breasting the heaven's blue—his clear, Bhrill pipe. ranged upon the top shelf of an old bureau. With burst of music, sunrise welcoming. Por many years she carried her savings And gladdening his brooding mats below. about vrith her from town to town, some­ Light lies the silver mist iu filmy veil times retaining upon her person gold in On the pink cressets of the clover-buds, Whose dew-tipped clusters, feel not yet the warmti, rouleaux to a large amount. She ia even Of the new-risen aun. aaid to have kept in her pocket for seven A feathery web years a note for two hundred pounds. At Of fairy gossamer sits on the furze. length her wealth became a positive em- And with a maze of glistening tracery, barraaament to her. She invested sums in Of elfin cords, joins in a stately troop. Of briatling helms, the downy thistle-tufts. county banks and in the hands of respect­ And veils the beadlets blue of blae berries, able tn-adesmen, at three per cent., aome- That shelter'neath the fern. The bnunbles show timea withont'receiving any intereat what­ Their black and scarlet store of ripening frait Adowu the chalky hollows; and from copae ever, but merely with a riew to the safer The sprightly rabbit with white-glinting tail, custody of her resources. It waa vrith Dart>3 to the aweet and fragrant border.grass. exceeding difBculty that ahe waa eventually That skirts the windiug p^th unto the atile. Aurora, rosy-fingered goddess fair, persuaded to become a fundholder. She Turueth her white steeds homewards, in her tra(± handed over her.atore of gold to her Eolls np the golden car of glorious Bos I stockbroker vrithexteaordinary trepidation. It is satisfactory to be assured that at last ON THE GREAT MAROONS. she accorded perfect confidence to the Old Lady in Tbreadneedle-street, increased her investmente from time to time, and learned I H>n never been the same man since Oa to find pleasure in visiting London half- day on which I read, io the Cuba Patriot, yearly to receive her diridends. one of those announcements over which a careless eye is apt to glance with such Altogether Mrs. Baker appears to have utter unconcern, but every word of which been a thoroughly estimable woman, cor­ seemed for long after to have burned itself diaUy regarded by the considerate members into my brain. She was dead, then. Dear, of the theatrical profession with whom she beautiful Jessie Mainwaring was dead. had dealings. WhUe recording her eccen­ It was at Havannah, in that fair and tricities, and conceding that ocoaaionally treacherous climate, where life seems her iMiguage was more forcible and idio­ a perpetual hoUday, and where Death, matic than tasteful or refined, Dibdin crowned vrith flowers, lurks unsuspected hastens to add that " ahe owned an excel­ at the banquet, that I had known saA lent heart, with much of the appearance loved her. My prospecte had been until and mannera of a gentlewoman." Grimaldi then bright and hopeful. I, Osborne was not leas prompt in expreasing his com- Vaughan by name, and bom an English­ pleto satisfaction in regard to bis engage­ man, had passed several years in Cuba. I ^^ ~r Oharles Dickens.] ON THB GREAT MAROONS. [July U, 1874.J 303 had left the island a few months previously, do take into their empty heads the to accept a place of trust in the house of absurd idea that the place is haunted." an eminent firm in Philadelphia, where, " Haunted ! " I repeated, in some per­ through the recommendation of Mr. Main- plexity. It was the first time that, in the waring, the father of my future bride, I New World, allusion had been made in had an almost certainty of being taken my hearing to those superstitious terrors, into partnership. All seemed to smUe which I had deemed peculiar to the Old. upon me, when a paragraph in a Cuban I was, however, informed that the whole newspaper recorded the probable loss of cluster of desolate islets, once the resort the Dona Carmen steamer, bound from of buccaneers, bore but a bad name along Havannah to New York, in which, as I the coast, and especiaUy was this the case • was but too well aware, the whole Main- with the Great Maroons, where strange ' waring family had embarked. Subse­ and cruel deeds were reported to have quent enquiries only served to confirm the been done, in days long past. gloomy conjecture. Whether the Spanish " Old Derring—Captain Jonah—as they ! steam-packet, in which Mr. Mainwaring, call him ; " said my feend ; " seems proof ^ his wife, sons, and daughter, were pas- against these rumours that scare away the ; sengers, had foundered at sea, or had been timorous recruits we send him—but then wrecked on some shoal or rock off the he was a pirate himself, and a slaver too, - coast-line, was unknown. But the one unless he be greatly maligned, and is not bare, cruel fact remained. The Dona easily frightened. Such as he is, delirium - Carmen was a lost ship, and she whom I tremens and natural decay must soon loved better than my life had been on create a vacancy on the Maroons, and if board the doomed vessel. The events of you retain your present fancy for a hermit 1 the succeeding weeks I can scarcely recall. life, Mr. Vaughan, you may expect soon I only remember that I gave up my ap- to be promoted to the office which your ' pointment, with all its contingent advan- moribund senior now holds." ' tages, unable as I was to confront the And indeed, when the pinnace that associations and memories which they went out weekly from the mainland with • evoked. I quitted Philadelphia, roamed provisions and fresh water, had set me for a while restlessly from city to city, ashore on the Great Maroons—a mere and finally sojourned for a time at Kings- desolate waste of yeUow sand, rank grass, : ton, in North Carolina. and tangled shrubs—I found the chief During my stay at Kingston, I acci- Ughthouse keeper the broken wreck of a ; dentally learned that an assistant light­ man. IU as he was, with trembUng limbs, house keeper was required on the Great and a racking cough that shook his huge Maroons, the largest of that dangerous frame painf uUy at short intervals; and aged chain of sandy islets which fringe the as his white hair, and the blanched paUor coast for leagues. It was a post for which of his sunbrowned face declared him to there were few competitors, and on apply- be, he was yet evidently one who had . ing to an official friend, I readily obtained formerly possessed extraordinary strength it. "The Great Maroons," said Mr. and unusual energy. I am not, I hope, un­ Wilmot, as he smilingly acceded to my duly timid by nature ; yet, I own that the request, " is not, I warn you, an agreeable first survey which I took of this crippled place of residence, for a man of education. giant as he lay in his hammock, which was The chief custodian, a worn-out sailor, slung from the ceiling of a long, low room who led a wild Ufe, I beUeve, in his youth in the lighthouse, inspired me with a sen­ —old Jonah Derring—is now very aged, sation that was akin to fear. There were infirm, and ill. His assistants, I fear, the marks of more than one ugly scar have been sad rowdies, hitherto, the upon the old man's bronzed face, and the drunken refuse of the Irish or German bloodshot eyes that peered at me from immigrants, for few can face the terrible beneath his beetling brows were fierce and soUtude and monotony of that uninhabited angry; while his voice was anything but spot. Three resignations, to say nothing gentle as he raised himself on one brawny of a brace of deserters, have occurred arm, seamed with strange patterns tattooed during my brief tenure of office. How­ on it in dark blue tracery, and said, ever, the lighthouse is an important one, gruffly, " What cheer, shipmate ? Not a and we must maintain the station, lawyer, are you, mister ? Guess if you're although the silly creatures who are any landshark of that sort, you'd best give tempted by Government pay and rations a wide berth to old Jo Derring, for aU the Ap 304 [July 11,1874.] ALL THB TBAB BOtTND. [CoDdocted b'

rotten, nseless huU you take him to be!" which it was possible to communicat. And, as he spoke, he thrust his shaking with the mainland. Supper over, and thi- hand into the breast pocket of the rongh lamp kindled in the lofty lantern over. monkey jacket which be wore, as if to head, I left the lighthouse, where tli grasp the handle of some concealed weapon. chief keeper alone had his quarters, a: Once aasured of my true character, and proceeded to my own dwellmg, a mt: of what was the errand that had brought hut of well-tarred timber, but sung and me to the island. Old Derring became weather-tight, the scanty furniture of sufficiently civU, although hia politeness which consisted of a broken teble, two was, at the best, like the friendliness of chairs, and a rickety iron bedstead on an imperfectly tamed bear, that growled which I had laid the mattresses that I had amicably, but might on slender provocation been advised to bring with me. "We be expected to use ite teeth and claws. He keep watoh and watoh, as aboard ship;" was glad, he told me, to see an assistent old Derring had'explained; "Toumaytnm who, landsman though he were, waa likely in first, and I'U gi^e you a call through to be worth his salt, whereas nothing but the speaking trumpet when it's time for threate and cuffs would keep the majority you to take your spell at the look ont." of his subordinates to their light but I felt, however, very little inclination for troublesome duty. And I think I rose in sleep, and sat long musing by the dull hia estimation when I declined the tin gleam of the small kerosene lamp that pannikin of fiery Bourbon whisky which Ulumined the rugged walls of the cahk he pressed upon me. " AU the better for that waa my apartment. It stood at the you, young chap, if yon can do vrithout distance of a pistol shot from the light­ your aUowance of grog," he said. "I house, adjoining an unfinished buildmg can't; at least, not here on this infernal that had probably been intended to con. Heaven-forsaken tongue of sand; but I tein stores of some kind, but had never mean to pitch the bottle overboard, once been roofed in, and was, vrith the exception for aU, when I resign and go North, as I'U of the lighthouse and my hnt, the only do before the fall, once I patch up and structure on the island, which was, as I grow stronger, or my name's not Jonah." have said, an uninhabited one. I sat for It seemed erident to me that Old Derring some time, perhaps an hour, listening waa very iU—^much more Ul, probably, moodUy to the moan of the night-wkd than he himself knew or cared to admit, and the dash of the waves as they broke and that his prospects of recovery were ceaselessly on reef and shoal, while my rendered none the brighter by the quan­ thoughte wandered far, fai' away. What tities of Uquor which he contrived, as was that ? A shriek, sharp, agonised, m- confirmed dram-drinkers vriU, to swaUow tolerably painful to the startled ear, and during hia waking momente. The strong apparently near at hand ! Convinced that drink which habit had made necessary to some one was in peril or suffering close hy him did not, it is trne, affect his brain, me, I sprang hurriedly to my feet, calling except that aa the day waned he grew aloud, aud pushing open the rude door, somewhat more reckless and boastful in emerged into the outer air. To my gnat his talk, which waa gamiahed vrith strange surprise, although I turned successively oaths and nautical jargon, and the tone of towards every point of the compass, I which left very Uttle doubt, to my mind, could see nothing. There were the bare of the truth of the allegations as to a atretchea of yeUow sand, the melancholy youth and prime spent amid scenes of sea, with ite line of foam, the reeds and lawless riolence and rapine. rank grass through which the breeze sighed mournfully, the towering lantern To all this I had made up my turret of the lighthouse, whence the beacon mind before embarking for the Maroons, sent ite warning radiance far and wide over and ao far from repining at the dreary the darkling deep ; but that was all. Half loneliness of the place, ite very solitude had beUeving that I had been the dnpe of an been the magnet which had attracted excited imagination, I returned to my hnt, me thither. It did not take me long and waited there untU the old sailors to leam all that was necessary con­ hoarse summons caused me to take my cerning the detaUs of my duty; the share of watohfulness. trimming and tending of the lamps, re­ flectors, and other gear; where the stores On the ensuing night I heard, or thought were kept; and where, in caae of need, I heard, a sound aa of sobbing, followed by I waa to look for the signals, by the aid of a long-drawn waUing cry, such as might

'^ :;o Charles Dickens.] ON THE GREAT MAROONS. [July 11,1871.] 305 well have proceeded from the Ups of a look to the lamps. There's dirty weather sick child, but on rushing from my hut brewing. Even a landlubber can see that, I could perceive nothing, and began to I guess, can't he ? " conjecture that I had been deceived by I told him, yes. My meteorological my own gloomy fancies, or had possibly knowledge was nothing remarkable, but I mistaken the wild, harsh note of some must have been blind indeed not to note sea bird for the accents of a human voice. the signs of a threatening storm. The I returned to my primitive couch, and scud of clouds went driving fast overhead; after a time fell into a heavy sleep, from white-winged sea-fowl flew screaming which I was abruptly awakened by a shorewards; the breakers were loud and shriek so loud, shrill, and appalling, that I hoarse. Rough weather was certainly lost not a moment in hurrying forth, impending, and aU day the force of the turning towards the spot whence, as I wind increased, until towards evening a judged, the cry had proceeded. This time dense black cloud-bank had gathered on the wan moon, then but a crescent of the horizon, and at sunset the flashes of pale light, peeped for a short space from the lightning and the roU of the thunder amidst the wrack of driving clouds, and by added their terrors to the deep diapason that paUid and flickering gleam I thought of the tempest. ' that I beheld a black-robed form gUde Curiously enough, my aged colleague's phantom-like amidst the tall tamarisks failing health seemed to be in some inex­ and waving reeds, and vanish in a direction plicable manner affected by the advent of opposite to that of the Ughthouse. I ran, the coming storm. His cough was all but shouting aloud, towards the place where unremitting, and he shook and quivered as the figure had appeared, but just then the if ague stricken, talking almost incessantly, moon again hid her face behind the scud but seldom raising his husky voice beyond of hurrying clouds, and when the next a semi-audible growl that partook more of faint glimpse of moonUght became visible the nature of soliloquy than of conver­ nothing could be seen, save the shrubs sation. Before evening, noting his in­ and taU herbage tossing in the wind. creasing weakness, and how constant, in After a protracted search, I came to the spite of all I could say, was his resort to conclusion that my own morbid condition strong stimulants, I felt it my duty to urge of mind had caused me to people that him to allow me to signal to the shore for lonely place with haunting phantasms, the medical attendance which his condition and that I had no doubt exaggerated so clearly required. But he repulsed the the effect of natural sounds and sights, suggestion with jeers and curses. Doctors, influenced partly, iu all likelihood, by my he said, were only fit to feel the pulses own carking sorrow, and partly by the and pouch the fees of chicken-hearted innate tendency to superstitious fears stay-at-homes. If only the confounded from which none of us are wholly free. snap of rough weather would come and go, I can scarcely explain what was the he. Captain Jonah, should right, and ride feeling which prevented me from saying a well through it into port. I signal the word to the chief "Ughthouse keeper, con­ shore, while he commanded on the Maroons! cerning what I fancied that I had seen Never, if I cared to die in my bed! He, and heard. But, indeed, old Jonah old as I might think him, would just as Derring was not likely to prove a very soon blow off the roof of a mutineer's skull sympathetic confidant; whUe on the third as not. He had done as much, and worse, day of my stay on the Great Maroons, a too, to many a better man. And he twitched notable change for the worse took place his knife in its shark-skin sheath, and toyed in his health. I found him in the morning with the brass-bound butt of his pistol, unusuaUy haggard-eyed and feverish, and as if a murder would have been rather his talk seemed wilder and more incoherent a congenial occupation than otherwise. than it had been on previous occasions. Later on, when twUight had faUen, old He was very feeble and tremulous, but Derring seemed to have forgotten his treated with scorn my hesitating remon­ momentary irritation, and lay gasping strance regarding the amount of liquor, and moaning on his pillows, asking unusuaUy great as it seemed to me, which me, now and again, to do him some kind he imbibed. "Let Jo Derring alone office, such as moistening his parched to pick and choose his own medicine, Ups with rum-and-water, or propping his young chap ! " he said, as he took off his heavy head in a more convenient attitude, fourth dram; "and do you go aloft and for now he drew his breath painfully and 806 [Jul; 11,1874.1 ALL THE TBAB EOTOID. tConduoMbr

vrith an erident effort. He kept muttering lamp and adjusted the reflector; but, as I strange words, half of which I lost, but did 80, I again heard a piercing shriek of others had manifest reference to his distress, and caught sight, for an instant Ul-spent life, and I could easily con­ of the black-robed figure which I conceived jecture that his conscience pricked bitn myself to have seen on the first night somewhat, seared though it was by evil of my stay on the Maroons—a female passions and recklessness. " The brig form, to all appearance just vanishing fired first," he murmured, hoarsely, " and among the bushes waving in the wind. when one's blood is up who can stop ? Moved by an impulse that I could not stay Besides, we were a scratoh crew, and the to analyae, I darted down the ladder. black savages and the Spaniards did the " Mr. Derring," I said, almost forgetting most of the mischief. If only they'd struck in my agitetion how critical was the con­ the flag and lain to when we ranged up dition of the old man whom I addressed, alongside—but for aU that, I'd like to " Did you not hear that cry ? There is silence those shrieks—curses on them! some one on the island, I am certain, some they ring in my ears stUl! " And at that one in pain, or in mortal alarm. Perhaps very moment a long, waUing cry, as of a ship—" " What of that I " broke ont old anguish and woe unutterable, reached my Derring, who had gathered the drift of ears, and caused my very blood to freeze my last words; " What if the ship did vrith horror, and my heart to suspend ite run aground here, and aU hands lost, pulsations. But either the sound did not throngh misteking the lights, the Inbberly make iteelf distinct to the duUed senses of bu2zards—was it my business to jahbCT the old man, or he considered it to be the and prate about spilt mUk, or drowned mere product of his heatod fancy, for he humans ! Drive that black dog away! presently said :—" Ay! ay! fifty years keep the brute off I he'll fasten his (vnd more, and fresh aa if I stUl saw the gnashing teeth in my throat next, I know vessel going down, down, and heard the it. How his red eye glares nt me—keep voices on her blood-steined deck, where him off, I say—and give me drink—Im the women knelt screeching among the old and weak. Take the revolver and the corpses, or tried to lift their chUdren into knife; I'm too old and weak to use them." the rigging to save a few poor momente of I gave the sufferer a draught of mm-imd- life before the waterlogged huU sank water, firat removing the weapons, which bodUy. An old story! It onght to be I was thankful to put beyond his reach, forgot long since. Odd how my memory for in hia then state of frenzy he might at runs on old times, to-night. As for the any moment have attempted his own Ufe, ebony trade, a man couldn't afford to be or mine; at the same time using some over nice in that. What, if we did heave soothing expressions, such as were dictated *em overboard, a hundred and eighty of by a natural sentiment of compassion. them, shackled to the schooner's best bower The black hound, I told him, had gone anchor, off the Nun River's mouth, when away. There was no danger now. But I the British cruiser pressed us hard ? "We'd begged him not te excite himself by have been ruined it the craft had been telking too much. I had seen other patients condemned at the Cape—and who cares under the influence of the terrible malady for a few score wooUyheads more or less— which had now prostrated old Dening, give me a sip of the comforter, messmate; and could not help pitying the mental and and, I say, just kick out yonder blaok dog, physical anguiah which he underwent, vriU yon—^how came the brute here ? I'd hardened miscreant thongh he might bo. shoot it, if my hand didn't tremble ao." To my aurpriae the alcohol acted aa» So complete was the tone of conriction sedative on the overstrung nerves of the in which the old man spoke, that I turned old pirate. " Thank ye, my lad! " ke instinctively to look towards the quarter said, calmly and thoughtfully; "ti»t indicated by the pointing of his shaking draught has cleared my adcUed briiui, and forefinger; but there was no dog there. I begin to see my bearings. I'll never get Presently the thunder boomed, and the red better, young chap. I feel that, and I glare of the lightning crossed the narrow know it. I tried, many'a the day, te keep windows, and the noise of the wind and a stout heart, and look forward to clearing sea increased aa darkneaa felt. I now re­ out of this den of a place, with a tidy membered that it was time to kindle the lump of dollars to comfort my old days beacon above, and ascending the ladder to but now I feel that I was only cheating the high lantern, I at once lighted the myself. If I Uve till daybreak, it's about

€ = zia Oharlea Dickens.] ON THE GREAT MAROONS. rjuly 11,187*.] 307 all. Are you a judge of jewels ? " Then, seaward side of the island, on which the seeing my look of surprise in answer to huge waves now beat furiously, while the this abrupt inquiry, he added, impatiently; strength of the wind, as it dashed the " Take the key that lies beside the stone spray in my face, seemed to increase jar yonder on the table. Unlock that sea- every moment. Ha! What was yonder chest in the comer, and bring me the case figure, black-robed, slender, with a weird you'U find wrapped in a flannel shirt." I grace that had something unearthly obeyed, taking from its hiding-place a and saddening about it, that now stood, large case or casket in red leather, with a on a steeply sloping sandbank, with one gilt lock, the latter having evidently been arm outstretched over the boiling waters forced. "Now open it, and tell me the that chafed and roared below ! Was I the worth of the sparklers inside," said the dupe of a diseased fancy, or was this in sick man. I complied, disclosing to view very truth a disembodied spirit that a number of very handsome and costly hovered thus before my dazzled eyes, diamond ornaments that glittered as the dimly seen by the ominous radiance of the lamp flashed upon them. " These are no lightning flashes that lit up sea and shore, doubt very valuable," said I; " although only to deepen the blackness of the gloom I have no conception of their precise when their fitful brightness had passed worth. What would you wish me to —" away ? That shriek again, and then a " To give the shining things, I'd nigh sold sobbing sound, as of passionate weeping ! my soul for, back to their true owner," Assured that, whatever I had before my interrupted Derring. " 'Tis some months, eyes, it was at least human, I rushed now, since a Spanish built steamer forward, and soon reached the spot, and perished—ship, crew, and passengers—on as I did so a shaft of fire seemed to glance the Maroons here. I was alone in charge, dovm from the clouds, making all around for my assistant had left, and no one had as light as at noonday, and I saw that, yet been found to replace him. Not much but a few feet off, was she whom I had was washed ashore, but I got a few beUeved to be sleeping beneath the things, and the best of them are these waves, but how changed ! Haggard, diamonds. I counted on them, once I got pale, with a strange and terrible light weU and made tracks, to Uve on, in com­ in her restless eyes, her hair hanging fort, but, day by day, I grew worse and wildly over her black robe, beautiful still, weaker, and—Heaven's mercy on a great but with something of the desperate sinner—what is that ? " For now the expression of some hunted creature fearful cry which I had repeatedly heard brought to bay, was the girl whom I had was again uttered, and this time so near last seen the petted idol of a happy and as to force itself on the deafened ear of united family. The crackling of the dry the dying wretch, who struggled up into sand beneath my tread made her start, a sitting posture, and with Ups that and as she did so, I could restrain myself worked and writhed without speaking, no longer, calling her name aloud; pointed to the open door. What figure, " Jessie ! dear Jessie ! " I laid my hand in female garb of tattered black, with upon her wrist, but she eluded me, as if in loose hair hanging dishevelled, with paUid fear, and with a dreadful cry, half shriek, face and gleaming lustrous eyes, stood half laugh, sprang down the steep bank into there, beckoning ? "Jessie!" I exclaimed, the sea, and was instantly sucked out from as the apparition turned its face towards the shore by the foaming reflux of a wave. me. " Jessie Mainwaring, my own, my I have never been able thoroughly to loved and lost! " And hardly knowing realise what followed. That I strove, whether I beheld my unforgotten love frantically strove, to save Jessie from the in the spirit or in the flesh, I slowly death that in her madness—for, alas I there approached her; but with a wild and could be no doubt but that her reason had mocking laugh that chilled the very given way—she had sought, and • that I marrow in my bones, she turned and nearly lost my own life in the attempt, I darted out into the darkness of the night. know. I remember, too, how, bruised by Uncertain whether the vision I had beheld the surges and exhausted, I ceased swim­ was of supernatural origin or no, I yet ming, and let the strong current work its pursued in breathless haste the route will with me, and how, when I recovered which it had appeared to take, and after from a swoon that must have lasted long, struggling through the tangled shrubs I I found myself lying, half submerged, on a came in sight of the sandy beach on the spit of sand, sheltered by a projecting head- 808 [Jnl7 11,1S74.] ALL THB TEAB ROtTND. tCondiuiMlir land from the full fury of the bUlows, and "More than a month," I kept saying to vrith some difficulty, after long pacing the myself; " more than a month, for it was shore in the vain hope of seeing any trace then September, and to have heard and seen of Jessie, contrived to crawl to the light­ nothing of them since that afternoon !" house. Here a new sensation awaited me. I had not even heard of them through my Old Derring was lying dead in his ham­ doctor, who, dear old man, came from the mock, and I was now the only liring being opposite direction to Braithwait, and was in that dreary spot. I now discharged too old and too deaf to be much of a gossip several rockete, and made other signals purveyor. We learnt nothing at the lodge for help; bnt it was not until the middle of we drove through, tor the gate was opened the following day that a boat could venture by a child, who stared at me, finger in to the island. mouth, too ahy to speak. We saw no one In Derring's sea chest was discovered a in the park, and in the grounds no one- written confession of his latest misdeed. it was juat the gardeners' dinner hour. It appeared by it that he had concealed from I have often felt a peculiar sadness in a the authorities the fact that some months atinny soUtnde, the loneliness of gloom previously a steamer had been wrecked seems less unnatural. That day the sight on the island, all on board perishing save of the dear old house, sunny, silent, soli­ only one female passenger. This was tary, not a face at door or window, not a afterwards proved to have been no other dog, even, on the steps or the gravel sweep than the Dona Carmen, and the solitery sur­ —suimy, sUent, solitary, against its back­ vivor of the many who had been on board, ground of pine-clad, pine-crowned hill— was Jessie Mainwaring. She was saved sUent, except for the sleepy sound of from the ahipwreck, only to be kept in rooks, and for the always, even in stillest captirity by the wicked old pirate Derring, weather, heard sea murmur in those pines, whose object was to retein possession of dimmed my eyes with tears. some valuable jewels which had belonged To me Braithwait ia a place of many to Mrs. Mainwaring, and which had been memoriea and of unrivaUed attractions. found in a trunk that had been accidentaUy Climbing to the crest of that pine-dark­ washed ashore. Poor Jeaaie had been con­ ened hUl behind it, and turning north­ fined in an underground apartment beneath ward, you get a magnificent coast riew. the lighthouae, where, from grief, solitude, Tou stand, then, on the highest ground in and the threats of the old pirate, who had Torkshire, and, looking over miles of in­ menaced her Ufe should his theft be tervening moor, see headland stretching detected, her reason had wholly suc­ beyond headland, white-lipped bay beyond cumbed. This, then, was the explanation white-lipped bay. Ah! the wild delight of the TajBiery of the haunted island. of a climb to that wintry crest, to battle My poor j^essie'a body drifted to the vrith the sea-breeze there, on a mad March shore and was buried, as was also that of moming when I was young. And the Old Derrick. The diamonds were, I mysterious, halt fearful pleasure of the believe, restored to the Mainwaring famUy, return through the deepening darkness of but I am told that I was myself nearly the ominous soundful pine wood at dusk. mad for months after the events of that The house of Braithwait, thus guarded fearful night. Be that as it may, I am on the north, faces due south, and catches sane now, an aged, broken man, Uving east and west annshine by projecting win­ only in the memory of the past. dows. Ite plantetions, shrubberies, and gardens, aU gently sloping southwards, are as beautiful, and richly varied, and, I SAFELY MARRIED. should say—but, then, I am a favourably Xt THI AVTHOB 0» " AIT SXPSBUITOB," " niiST*! IBIU.B," &0., to. prejudgingwitness—as productive as anyin England. Braithwait seems always to have CHAFTEK VII. a climate of its own, to have been destined IT was then the beginning of November, to be a home paradise, dropped doivn m the but such adayas might have been expressly midst of this dark northern country. made to hinder us from giving a bad In spite of the deserted aspect of the name to any month in the year. place, my approach had not, I found, been My old pony trotted along cheerily, my unobserved. By the time my pony bad old man chatted cheerily, the robins in the stopped at the foot ot the flight of stejB hedges sang cheerily; but, aomehow, I leading up to the portico, Allan Braithwait couldn't feel cheery. was descending them to meet me. Oharles Kckens.] SAFELY MARRIED. [July 11,1874.] 309

*; Althoughhis smile forme was most charm- quiries for her. It was a large and it, ingly affectionate, I was immediately, as it deUghtful room—all dark oak and dim iwere, heart-struck by the expression of his crimson, with great variety of convenient ijface—an expression of settled misery—and tables, attended upon by suitable chairs; j.by his look of seriously bad health. and had always, by reason of the differing H I was stiff with long sitting in my aspects of its projecting, mullioned win­ ; old chaise, and he had almost to lift me dow, sunshine in some part, if any sun­ • to the ground — almost to carry me shine were to be had anywhere; but of up the steps, which he did with a Elfie I found no trace. There was no . kindness that was quite filial. He spoke work-basket—by fits and starts Elfie a good word to my old Nicholas, and pro­ would devote herself to fancy work—no mised him good entertainment; and, when thrown down garden hat and gloves; , I dropped into the first chair in the haU, Elfie liked picking flowers, and the r telling him I had been ill, and was, for garden was stiU gay with them. No .that reason, more short of breath than open magazine or novel; no litter of music, usual, he seemed genuinely concerned. though I knew the piano in this room was "What aselfish, unfeeling bruteyoumust a good one, and especiaUy brought here for think me. Miss Hammond. So engrossed Elfie. No pencils, paints, or drawing-board; ^ by my own happiness, you see, as to have in fact, no sign at aU of Elfie. ; no thought for anyone or anything else." " Is your wife ill ? " I asked, when the •^ The lastwords he said with an intensity of servant had been and had gone. ^ bitterness and irony which made me shiver. " Not that I know of. She danced till ••• " I should be weU content to find I had about five this morning at a baU to which ^ been on that account neglected ; but I can't I had forbidden her to go. Possibly, there­ say that, if this has been the case, you look fore, she's tired. She may be stUl in bed." as if happiness had agreed with you; you His tone was hard and hopeless, and seemed ' look ill," I couldn't help commenting. meant to be one of studied indifference. ; "I am ill. Ill, mind and body ; but no " I'll go and look for her when I've had " matter for that. Where shaU I take you ? my cup of tea," I said, trying to speak • I recommend the library as the warmest Ughtly. " It will do her no good to sleep and snuggest place ; and I know you don't away this lovely moming, however Uttle • mind a suspicion of tobacco." night sleep she may have had. She should ; "No, no; but it's a new thing for you be up and out." to smoke. Perhaps it's that which is not He only shrugged his shoulders, evi­ . agreeing with you ? " dently intending to indicate that this was " I am trying it as a sedative," he not a matter in which he had any influence, answered me. or a subject which had any interest for " A sedative ! What do you want with him. Then he tried to make me garrulous a sedative ? Work is the only fit and on what is supposed to be one of an old proper sedative for people who are strong woman's favourite topics—her own ail­ and young. But, where's your wife ? ments. I ought to have had better advice ^¥here's Elfie ? " than poor old Dr. Skirlew's, he said; and Without answering my inquiries, he he wished to make me promise on any gave me his arm into the library, wheeled future occasion, should such arise, to let the chair he thought I should like best him know of my being ill. to the pleasantest comer, put a stool for " At least—if " my feet, a screen to protect me from the fire, He broke that sentence off abruptly. fresh as I was from the frost-touched air; The servant, just then entering with my suggested that I should take off my shawl tea, gave him the excuse for doing this ; and loosen my bonnet; and then he begged but I seemed to understand that he would to know what I would take—lunch, he sup­ have done the same in any case. posed, would be ready by-and-by, but, after He had the tea equipage set down, that my long drive, I ought to take something he might with his own hand serve me. at once. Wine, soup, tea, what ? He made himself indescribably gracious, WhUe he, having rung, waited to give with a sort of tender lovingness in his his order (service at Braithwait was not attentions. It seemed as if, apart from his now as prompt as I remembered it in the care for the individual, he had, poor old times), I looked round the room for fellow, a pleasure in having somebody any sign of Elfie: and, somehow, shrank to care for. It was only when I spoke faint-heartedly from repeating my in­ of Elfie, when I tried to bring the talk

y^ ^

310 [Jniyii.urt]. ALL THB TBAB BOUND. COtmanetedb round to their ovm affairs, that aU this inexpreaaibly dear to me is, as yon „ changed, and he grew moody, reserved, have already guessed, the honour of tl one might almost say sullen. By-and-by, good old name. How am I to nrote, after reatleasly pacing the room for some this ? How am I to save this ? Can time, breaking silence at intervale, and tell me. Miss Hammond ? " lyo~ in answer to my questions or remarks, but It was here that his manner bei^n to evidently with the effort caused by pre­ lose something of ite unnatural formality occupation ; by-and-by he opened each As he continued, it gradually became more of the different doors, to look down the and more agitated. passages outeide them (one of these doors " Prom any appeal to my wife I have which might, without the knowledge of nothing to hope. There is nothing in ha those in the room, have admitted a listener, to which to appeal, neither heart nor con­ he locked as he reclosed it); then he came science, neither loyalty nor love. From and seated himself in a low chair, very any attempt to rule or coerce her I have close to me, from which he could address nothing to hope. I can get no grasp of himself to my better-hearing ear, and began her, she slips through* my bauds, eludes to speak. Speaking, at first, vrith no heat my hold. H there is any stable good or passion, but as a man in an eril dream thing iu her, any pure womanliness, I have might speak out some of the eril things of failed to find the clue to it. How to save his dream—things that, for him, were so the honour of the dear old name I This is famUiar as to have lost aU suspicion of ex­ now the problem of my nights and ot my travagance and to have passed beyond any days, of my sleepless nights of and my days region in which doubt and question were in which there is neither profit nor plea­ any longer possible. sure. How to save the honour ot the dear " Tou vriU hardly be surprised to hear," old name I I cannot see my way. My was his curiously formal manner of com­ death would not do it, nor hers, nor his. mencement—and the notion occurred to The world would telk. Can yon give me me that he might be about to speak much any hope or any help, Misa Hammond?" what he had made np his mind to write, His tone, as he ended, seemed to go had he not seen me—" that, haring been deep down into my heart; but for all now more than one year married, I beUeve answer to his appeal, I cried, seizing hha myself to have no love for my vrife left; by the arm, and roughly shaking it, no love and no tenderness, stiU more em- " Good heavens, Allan Braithwait, wake phaticaUy, no respect. She ia cold, and up, man, wake up! Tou're dreammg, cruel, and false. She has let heraelf man, wake up, wake up I " become little more than a puppet in the Then, at last, for the first time since he handa of a man who finds his best pleaanre had begun to speak, he lifted his look*) and pastime in crossing, and thwarting, mine. His eyes were fuU of wonder, for and harassing, and wounding her hus­ a moment he stared at me without a word, band throngh her. This is not a stete of then taking my hand from his arm tn hold things to be pnt np vrith. I am seeking it in his hand (the dry heat of which told about for a cure. I thought it would be ite tale of feverish disorder, the cause orthe easy to find a cure. I thought I had found consequence of his sleepless nights and his one. Bnt it is not eaay, and I have not days in which he found neither profit nor yet found one. Not easy, for this reason, pleasure ?) he said, with an indulgent gentle­ that I am not yet indrEEerent to every­ ness, which, from one in such trouble of thing—that there is one thing which stUl mind, seemed tome inexpressibly tonching, remains inexpreasibly dear to me." " I had forgotten how sndden, how Here he paused, as if to give me oppor­ strange, and how extravagant all this tunity for exclamation or for question. might seem to you. The time, perhaps, is He had spoken with hia eyes upon the not, in weeks aud months, long, during ground, and he did not now lift them. which these thoughte have been so fatally Somewhat occupied by wondering if he famUiar to me, and yet it seems no longer were quite sane (not so much, alas! time but eternity—as if they had been because of the matter of what he said, as always thus vrith me. And, indeed, from because of the strangeness of his look and the very beginning, even before we M- manner), and conscious of a queer, creepy tumed to England from our wedding- coldnesa coming over me, I did not speak; journey, such thoughts had visited me, and finding I did not, he went on— thongh then I was stUl able to thrust " The one thing which stiU remains them aside and to trample on them. =:C3 Charlea Dickens.] SAFELT MARRIED. [July 11,1874.1 311

"Then, indeed," I said, not allowing safety, I could live. I would try to live I myself to be softened, but trying to speak usefuHy, would try to do my duty to God ij sternly, " I fear I have cause to think that and to man, indeed I wonld Miss Ham­ • I have married my lovely childish Elfie to mond." This spoken with a boyish ^ a madman ! " earnestness that softened my eyes to tears ^ Without the slightest apparent heed to and even brought them dropping down. a my ejaculation he went on, In spite, however, of those tears, I tried " I can see no way out of it—none. No to take a rallying tone. ^ light anywhere. In whatever direction I "Who would believe in your sanity, , look nothing but blackness. I could bear Allan Braithwait, when told that all this '.'^' to do without happiness. That trial Iran t and rhapsody, this most foolish and • could, or BO I believe, bear uncomplain- most wicked talk of suicide and murder ; ingly. But it is not possible, and it has for cause—what ? That your wife last ought not to be possible, to live without night went to a baU to which you had not ; honour. So I say, but how am I help it ? wished her to go!" I finished with a mix­ For thongh, in sober truth, I would rather ture of mockery andgrandmotherlyreproof. ^ be guilty of murder, hers, or his, or both, He looked at me very strangely before - than let myself be dishonoured, how he spoke again. Then he said in a much could such murder help me in saving less overstrained tone, but vrith sternness -• the honour of the dear old name ? It of emphasis—a dominating manliness to ^ would not help me. One hears what the which I could not dare play the raUying - world would say. One knows what the grandmother. "A ball, remember, to " world would think. One sees the mud which I had strictly forbidden her to go. •: that would be thrown. What is to help A ball given by the only people in the ': me ? Surely there must be some way of county whom I have forbidden her to - help, though I have failed to find it, have visit. A ball to which I had her ' promise' i utterly failed to find it." Here he dropped that she would not go ! A baU to which •; my hand, which he had held in his till (returning home after a few hours of need­ .? now, and got up; going to the table at ful absence earUer than I was expected), I • which he had probably been sitting before find her gone with Edgar Ramsay and that s I came, he took up something over which sister of his, Mrs. Hurston, a woman whose s tiU now had lain a newspaper. reputation is already, or very soon wUl be, t "Not even this," he said, standing as a burst bubble, and with whom I had just before me now, and looking down with a charged my wife to have nothing to do ! " sort of grim lovingness on the deadly little " That was bad, very bad, very very weapon with which he seemed to me to play bad, I own. But, if you had heard them, as if it had been a harmless toy. " Not even there were doubtless some excuses, some this, it seems to me, can save, what it is extenuating circumstances. The disobedi­ saying nothing to say that I would gladly ence, depend upon it, was not, on Elfie's give my life to save. My life—what is part, premeditated. I never—or, if ever, that worth to me ? " he ended meditatively. I hardly ever—^knew Elfie guiUy of de­ I mnst own to having been dreadfully liberately premeditated falsehood and de­ frightened—frightened for myself, as well ceit. They over-persuaded her—you can­ as shocked and frightened for him and for not tell what arguments, what taunts Elfie. I always have had a horror of fire­ they used—they over-persuaded her. Tou arms, a sort of feeliug that they may at never could have dreamed that you had any time and of their own accord " go married a woman of strong character; off " even by merely being looked at. I you have not been in that way deceived. certainly was dreadfuUy frightened. If you had heard her defence, you would But I hope I did not show my fright, have doubtless found there had been less he did not seem to see it, when suddenly wickedness than weakness in her conduct." he glanced up into my face—a sort of So I pleaded despairingly. longing and of appeal over his own. " But I find I have married a woman of " If you would show me any way of strong character ! She is strong in evil, keeping honour safe, of keeping the honour strong in defying me. Strong in taking of the dear old name unstained—if any her own way and holding her own path. voice, from heaven, or earth, or hell, would Strong in the subtleties of her obstinacy." teach me to do that—then, all the rest There was a silence of some length after might go. Oh, I could live, if only on those words of his, to which I did not this one point I" could have peace and j know how to answer. Then I said, speak-

p y^ 312 ATT. THE TBAB BOUND. [Wjll.Wi] ing from a audden, and, aa I afterwards "Thecircnmstences,not I, judgeandcon. found, a true inspiration— denm her. They admit of no explanation.' " I fancy I can tell you what argument "Have you seen her?" I repeated prevailed vrith Blfie, or rather to what angrily. passion her tempters appealed—to her " This was in my hand when she cme jealousy. They persuaded her you would back. I did not trust myself to see her." be at that baU yourself, to meet some one He apoke with dreary gentleness. with whom you did not care that she Trying to keep up my show of anger, should see you, and that tor such reason though that gentle dreariness in the strong yon had forbidden her to go." young man greatly touched me, " Let mt " Pahaw!" he aaid roughly. " She carea tell you," I said, "the sooner that" (with too little for me to be jealous of me. a aideway nod of my black bonnet towatds Besides," was added in a less convinced the obnoxioua thing he held), " is out of tone, " the only woman of whom she can your hand the better. Tou are no mora ever have had the slightest shade of cause fit to be trusted with it than a child. This even to dream of being jealoua waa the last shooting mania you have upon yon makes woman in the world likely to be there." yon positively unsafe. Pnt the silly, dan. " That she would not know. In some gerona toy away. Tou wUl be shooting ways she is very ignorant, I would even me presently, if I should say anything m say innocent. She might be easUy duped by any way to. offend you, aud I mean to such people aa Mr. Ramsay and his sister." speak pretty plainly! " To this he did not answer. As mnch Of course he saw through my poor to break a sUence which made me nervous attempt at bravado, my poor pretence ot aa for any good could come of such a carrying things off lightly, half by afiect- question, I asked, ing anger, halt by trying to make his " Is there no way in which you can rid desperation ridiculous. Without giring the neighbourhood of your cousin ? " hin^ time to apeak, I went on to rail at "Do you think I have not tried all him in good set terms ot old-womanly ways—all ways but one." He was again railing; almost accusing him, before I fingering that horrid pistol. " And it is came to a pause, of loving some woman no pity for him, but only care for the one who was not his vrife, who poisoned hia thing lett me to care for, the good old mind against hia wife, ao that he could name, that has stood between him and apeak of my lovely Elfie aa if she were that one way. If I shot him what reason aome hardened sinner—some woman of would the world find for my deed ? " the world, long practised in tbe world's " It the world found the true reason it wickedness, rather than the child she WM. would say that you were mad." Poor feUow! He seemed much " taken " But the world does not find true aback " by such an assault from me. He reasons. Not that that reason would be coloured high with anger or annoyance. true I I have endured enough to madden He laughed a bitter, embarrassed laugh. a strong brain, but I am not mad. Last I fancied that, spite of that embarrass­ night. Miss Hammond," hero he seated ment, and spite of that incredulity, my himself beside me again, and spoke ao low abuse of him was found comforting. that I had to strain my hearing to the Finally, as if feeling he must do some­ utmost to hear him, " when I came home thing, he got up, walked to one of tic and learnt where Elfie was gone, and in vrindows, and opened it; then, infinitely what company, I made no donbt but that to my relief, fired off hia pistol. the end had come, the worst had happened. " I never heard of insanity iu the Braith­ For that I own myself a fool! Edgar wUl wait famUy tUl now," I concluded, when he make no sacrifices such as are incurred by a waa again cloae enough to bear me. "But man who takes a woman from her home and I prefer to think you mad to thinking yoa her husband. He vrill atudy to make his re­ a very worthless and wicked young man. venge as costless to himself as costly to me." In what fashion he might have answered "Have you seen your wife since she me I never knew. At thia instent a door came back ? Or has she been judged aud flew open, and the apparition it admitted oondemmed unheard ? " arrested na.

The BigM of TransUtting Artioletfrom Ann THI TIAS BOUNU M rutrvad by the Authors,

PnbMBhed at the Office, 18, Wellington St., Btnmd. Printed ta 1 Palace Pre"".