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 "•"" -j i T i rr ii 'm ii I I fl : 
 
ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 ^ 0O\}t\ 
 
 BY 
 
 CAPTAIN ANDREW HAGGARD, D.S.O. 
 
 AUTHOR OF UUDO ANO I 
 
 ; I 
 
 ' 
 
 
 TORONTO : 
 WILLIAM BRYCE, 
 
r. 
 
 "r 
 
 ^ A<^ ^. 
 
 20i)0 
 
 Entered according to Act of Parliament of Canada, in the Offic ' of tbe Minister 
 of Agriculture, by William IJuyck, in tlio year oie thouoc»ud eigbt hundred 
 and ninety-one. 
 
• « 
 
 **Hac olim nteminisse juvabii' 
 
 TO 
 
 LI LI AS EATON 
 
 IN RECOLLECTION OF 
 MANY PLEASANT DAYS IN PLEASANT PLACES, 
 
 That its dedication now, after long years, may be accepted as a 
 
 slight proof that the words of the old Latin motto hold 
 
 good in this prosaic age, as they did in centuries 
 
 past, is the earnest wish of her old friend, 
 
 THE AUTHOR, 
 
•' 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 cHAprm 
 I.- 
 
 II.- 
 
 III.- 
 
 IV.- 
 
 V.- 
 
 VI.- 
 
 VII.- 
 
 VIII.- 
 
 IX.- 
 
 X.- 
 
 XI.- 
 
 XII.- 
 
 XIII.- 
 
 XIV. 
 
 XV.- 
 
 XVI. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 XV] II. 
 
 -A subaltern's quarters • • • 
 
 -A WEST-COUNTRY BEAUTY • • • 
 
 -A TOUCH OF NATURE . , . • 
 
 -A QUAINT FAMILY AND A GOOD APPETITE 
 -SOME SENTIMENT ON BOARD THE ADELAIDE 
 -ON THE HOE AND HOMEWARD BOUND . 
 -THE miller's DAUGHTER . , , 
 
 -A PICNIC AND A PROPOSAL . , • 
 
 -CHUMS AND SKETCHES. 
 
 -JACK GOES FISHING AND CATCHES A SALMON 
 -TRISTILLIAN . . . 
 
 -FOX ABANDONS HIS PLANS OF PURSUIT 
 -THE SUMMER-HOUSE .... 
 — WHERE JACK WENT . . , , 
 
 — NELLIE'S PICTURE .... 
 
 ■"bung" in LOVE .... 
 
 — IN PARIS 
 
 I-' 
 
 JACKS RETURN . 
 
 VAOS 
 I 
 
 6 
 
 9 
 
 i6 
 
 24 
 
 32 
 40 
 
 50 
 62 
 
 71 
 86 
 
 96 
 
 107 
 
 122 
 
 126 
 
 133 
 142 
 
 150 
 
 \ 
 
 \- 
 
 m 
 
 i 
 
 .12 
 
Vltl 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTFR 
 
 XIX - 
 
 XX.- 
 
 XXI.- 
 
 XXII.- 
 
 XXIII.- 
 
 XXIV.- 
 
 XXV.- 
 
 XXVI.- 
 
 XXVII.- 
 
 XXVIII.- 
 
 XXIX.- 
 
 XXX- 
 
 XXXI.- 
 
 XXXII.- 
 
 XXXIII.- 
 
 XXXIV.- 
 
 XXXV.- 
 
 XXXVI.- 
 
 XXXVII.- 
 
 XXXVIII.- 
 
 XXXIX.- 
 
 XL.- 
 
 -THE KNCOUNTER WITH F()X 
 
 -THE ANNOUNCEMENT IN THE PAPERS 
 
 -RESURRECTION . 
 
 -AN UNEXPECTED GUEST . 
 
 -ANGRY HEARTS 
 
 -THE MEETING IN GEORGtC SllM.r.T 
 
 -HEMMINGS THE IMMACULATE! 
 
 -MOLLIE'S RETURN 
 
 -CHRISTMAS AT MOOR LODGE 
 
 -fox's DETERMINATION 
 
 -THE WRECK . . , 
 
 -MOLLIE'S WEDDING . 
 
 -NELLIE AN ANGEL OF MERCY 
 
 -NELLIE HAS A CHANCE 
 
 -THE "queen's BIRTHDAY PARADc. ". 
 
 -PREPARATIONS . 
 
 -THE WEDDING . . 
 
 -THE FUtE. 
 
 -THE RESCUE . 
 
 -THE DEATH OF HEMMINGS 
 
 -PASSION AND TEMPTATION — WEAKNESS 
 AND STRENGTH . 
 
 -CONCLUSION . - . 
 
 fKV,% 
 158 
 
 178 
 192 
 
 200 
 208 
 
 215 
 
 221 
 231 
 238 
 
 245 
 
 257 
 266 
 
 271 
 
 283 
 
 290 
 
 297 
 304 
 314 
 
 319 
 335 
 
ADA TRISCOTT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A SUBALTERN S QUARTERS. 
 
 RLL, Colonel, is anything settled about the 
 move yet?" 
 
 The scene is the citadel at Plymouth, 
 and the speaker is a well-made, good- 
 looking young iubaltern in the — th Regiment now 
 quartered in that favourite station for soldiers. 
 
 " Ah, Treleaven, is that you ? Oh, yes, the order has 
 come for us to move across the bridge into Devonport next 
 Friday, and very glad I shall be of the change myself, as 
 we shall have the whole regiment together again in the 
 Raglan Barracks. I fancy it will save you, too, a few 
 half-crowns in cab hire on wet days, eh, my lad ? " 
 
 Jack Treleaven flushed just a little at the innuendo 
 conveyed in this remark, and the amusement it evidently 
 afforded to his brother officers standing round ; but he was 
 equal to the occasion, and answered readily : 
 
 *^Ah, yes, sir, the Devonport station is close to the 
 barracks, and, as the South-Western is the line I generally 
 
 • t 
 
 i| 
 
 ii 
 
 1:1 
 
ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 use for my fishing excursions, it will save me something 
 in cabs." 
 
 " Well fielded, Jack," sang out one of the group, a little 
 dark man with merry brown eyes. " I think you must have 
 been sharpening your wits with the point of your fishing- 
 rod ; however, as I am going down into Devonport myself 
 this afternoon, I shall be able to tell your Stoke friends 
 the reason you are looking forward to our change of 
 quarters, and no doubt they will be highly gratified." 
 
 " You shut up, ' Bung,' " answered Jack, irreverently, 
 to his senior officer, Captain Lifton, " and pay attention to 
 your beer; that's only the second glass you've had since 
 parade, so of course you can hardly be expected to know 
 what you are talking about yet. When your wits have 
 been brightened up by another three or four glasses, perhaps 
 you'll understand what you're saying." 
 
 There was a general laugh at this mild witticism, for 
 Lifton's, or rather "Bung's" partiality for beer was too 
 well known to admit of doubt. Meantime, Treleaven 
 effected his escape to his own quarters, where he was 
 shortly after joined by Lifton himself. 
 
 " Well, old * sonny,' " said the latter worthy, '* what do 
 you think of the move?" for these officers of the — ^th, 
 having been quartered some time in what Plymothians call 
 the " three towns," were given to affecting the Devonshire 
 expressions and dialect. " I suppose," he continued, " we 
 shan't see you very often at mess now ; but, upon my 
 word, how you can go on eating the old chap's dinners, 
 and filling yourself with his dry Monopole, beats me ; 
 when you know you have about as much idea of marrying 
 Ada Triscott as you have of your other * flame ' up along — 
 Miss Nellie Watson. I think it is an infernal shame the way 
 
A aUIiALTERN'S QUARTERS 
 
 you carry on with three or four girls at o^ice ; make them 
 all believe you are desperately in love with them, and then 
 leave them to find out you are only trifling with their young 
 affections after all. However, you take care, my boy, you'll 
 be getting yourself into some confounded scrape one of 
 these days. Some old governor will 'cut up rough/ or 
 you will have the brothers at you ; or else you'll have the 
 girl swearing she will never leave you, and coming up to 
 your quarters in broad daylight, so as to let everybody 
 know she means it. Why really. Jack, being a west-country 
 man yourself, and knowing what passionate natures these 
 Devonshire girls have, I wonder you are not just a little 
 more careful. I know I have not much right to preach, 
 still, take my advice for once ; do as I say, not as I do, 
 and be a bit careful about Ada Triscott ; if not you'll regret 
 it, on my honour you will." 
 
 Jack was sitting in his shirt-sleeves smoking a pipe, as 
 Lifton delivered this homily. He was a tall, good-looking 
 young fellow, of about twenty-six or twenty-seven, with 
 blue eyes, a long fair moustache, of wMjh he was not a 
 little proud, and a splendid set of teeth that seemed to 
 light up his whole face as he laughed or smiled, making 
 his frank, pleasant manner quite irresistible even to his 
 enemies — who said he was selfish and conceited. They 
 were, however, very few, end, though hot-tempered and 
 rather opinionated, he was a general favourite in his regi- 
 ment — always a good criterion of a mau's character. He 
 looked more serious just now, as he answered : 
 
 " I know you're right, old man, but I can't help it. 
 I was born so. I always Vras in scrapes about women, 
 and I always shall be, I suppose, until I am comfortably 
 married. If I come across a pretty girl, I can't for the 
 
 B 2 
 
 !l 
 
 1 
 
 ii^i 
 
ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 life of me help making myself agreeable to her, whether 
 she's a shop-girl or the Lady Harriet Thingummy, and if 
 they choose to imagine I am in love with them, it's their 
 fault, not mine. Why, very often I don't want to make 
 love to them at all, but, after I have known them a bit, 
 I find them expecting it from me as a right, so I am 
 obliged to be empressk in my manner, and all that sort of 
 thing, just to please them, and for fear of their being 
 disappointed. It's all because I'm so d — d good-natured, 
 I don't like to hurt their feelings." 
 
 " Well, yes," interrupted Lifton, meditatively, ** it does 
 seem a ' d — d good-natured * thing to run the chance of 
 wrecking all a girl's future happiness, just for the enjoy- 
 ment of the present moment." 
 
 " However," continued Jack, not appearing to notice 
 this sarcasm, "although I do know you to be an old 
 numbug, who does not * practise what he preaches,' I will, 
 just to show there is no ill-feeling, take your advice this 
 once, and, as I hear there are plenty of peal up the Tavy 
 after the flood, I'll just take my rod out to Horrabridge 
 every day for the next week or two, and won't turn up 
 at the dance on the Adelaide or any of the others for a 
 bit, where Ada is likely to be ; for we have been going 
 it rather hard lately, I'll admit. I shan't have much 
 chance of seeing her for the rest of the autumn, for they 
 are going to the north of Devonshire. I think I shall get 
 leave for a week to start with, the day after we get to 
 Devonport, and stop at the mill at Denham Bridge. 
 There ! What do you think of that for a good resolution ? " 
 
 " Not so bad for you, if you only keep it. Let's see, 
 Denham Bridge is exactly three miles and a half from 
 Horrabridge ; and of course you will not be able to leave 
 
A SUBALTERN'S QUARTERS 
 
 S 
 
 your fishing to walk to that lovely place, all the way up- 
 hill, to see the Watsons quite every day ; and, although I 
 know perfectly well you calculate upon the girls walking 
 down to see you fish, still I don't think their energy will 
 carry them that distance more than once in the week to spoil 
 your fishing. Well, come, let's go to lunch, and afterwards 
 we'll take a turn on the lloe, and do George Street as 
 usual* 
 
 U, 
 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 A WEST-COUNTRY BEAUTY. 
 
 DA TRISCOTT, the subject of the conver- 
 sation in the last chapter, came of a good old 
 Cornish stock. There are, as every one knows, 
 endless Triscotts in the west country; but 
 William Triscott of Penallyn, her uncle, always declared 
 that his was the oldest branch of the family, and Ada, who 
 had lived with him since her father's death six years before 
 the commencement of this story, firmly believed him, and 
 loved to listen to his stories of dead and gone Triscotts 
 and their doings. Her mother, who had been an invalid 
 for many years did not long survive her husband, and 
 died at Penallyn Hall some months after, leaving her 
 orphan boy and girl to the care of their uncle ; since which 
 time, William Triscott — a childless widower himself — had 
 been as a father to Ada and her sailor brother George. 
 
 They had neither of them been left penniless ; and, 
 although their father had not been rich, being the younger 
 brother, he had been able to leave a small independence 
 to his widow, which, divided equally among the children 
 at her death, gave them each about two hundred a year. 
 George the sailor, about five years the senior, came into 
 possession of his share at once ; but, as Ada was then only 
 about thirteen, her uncle had carefully allowed the interest 
 
A WEST-COUNTRY BEAUTY 
 
 to accumulate for her ; and she was now, at nineteen, the 
 possessor of about five thousand pounds safely invested. 
 
 But Ada never troubled her head about these matters ; 
 and her uncle it was who defrayed all expenses of her 
 education and gave her pocket-money when she wanted 
 it, for she was indeed as a daughter to him. 
 
 Ada was not tall, she was about the medium height ; 
 but so beautifully made that her whole figure, though 
 exquisitely liv.he and graceful, seemed at the same time 
 to indicate the perfection of health and strength. From 
 being accustomed to ramble about the rocks and accom- 
 pany her brother in his fishing and birds'-nesting expe- 
 ditions, she had early become as sure-footed as a goat, and 
 could even now, if she wished it, have climbed the tallest 
 tree with ease ; but though she considered it incumbent on 
 her, now she was a grown-up young lady, to give up such 
 freaks as that, she would still scramble up a cliff for a fern, 
 or creep along a rocky ledge for gulls' eggs to add to the 
 splendid collection she and her brother had commenced 
 years ago, and which was one ot the first things she would 
 show, with not unmerited pride, to any visitors to Penallyn 
 Hall. 
 
 George was at present away in China with his ship. 
 He was a fine manly young fellow, and had, at the time 
 our story opens, been two years a lieutenant on board 
 H.M. corvette Haven, Open-handed to a fault, always 
 falling in love and falling out again, a good sailor, a good 
 dancer, and a good fellow, he was one of the most popular 
 officers in the ship, and was adored by the " blue-jackets," 
 who would have followed him anywhere. 
 
 If George had a weak spot in his nature, it was love 
 for his little sister, and, although he hated letter-writing, he 
 
 •t1 
 
 lil 
 
 
 1) 
 
 • 
 
8 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 proved his affection for her by writing constantly long 
 accounts of himself and any expedition he might be en- 
 gaged in. However, since his vessel had left the Malay 
 waters, some six months before, very little had been heard 
 of him at home \ from which it was to be argued that 
 nothing eventful had occurred to disturb the "even tenor 
 of his way," 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 A TOUCH OF NATURE. 
 
 »HE Triscotts generally spent a good part of 
 the year in Plymouth, or, to be more accurate, 
 in Stoke, which is a suburb of Devonport. 
 Here William Triscott owned a pleasant 
 little house in Tamar Terrace, overlooking the People's 
 Park, and Hamoaze, with its picturesque old hulks, which 
 serve as a perpetual reminder of the ancient maritime 
 glories of England. 
 
 Nothing strikes one more than the view to be obtained 
 from the People's Park. Close below, on the one side, 
 lies Heigham Dockyard, with its queer-looking towers and 
 shears, whilst Morice Town with its teeming population, 
 lying almost at the dockyard gates, serves to remind one 
 that thousands of families are supported by the ceaseless 
 toil going on within those massive walls. 
 
 Beyond, lie the shining waters of the Tamar, dotted 
 here and there with old worn-out men-of-war, bounded, on 
 the opposite side, by the fair hills of Cornwall. The 
 peaceful contrast thus formed with the ceaseless noise 
 and bustle on one of its banks, is both remarkable and 
 impressive. 
 
 On the other side, a view is presented of the blue 
 waters of the Sound, and of that marvel of engineering 
 
 ' i 
 
 m 
 
■Tmnrt.-ia ^ jgifmtHj 
 
 to 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 skill, Plymouth Breakwater, under the lee of which the 
 largest men-of-war can lie in safety throughout the raging 
 of the fiercest gales. 
 
 Above the Sound, tower the heights of Staddon, 
 crowned with its fort and lofty wall, which, only built on 
 the seaward end of the " heights " to serve as a stop-bullet 
 for the sometimes wild shooting of the British soldier, has 
 many a time proved a veritable "beacon of joy" to the 
 homeward-bound British sailor. But to attempt a de- 
 scription of the view from the People's Park at Stoke, with 
 its alternations of fortifications close at hand, the three 
 towns down below, the shipping, and the lovely scenery of 
 wooded Mount-Edgecumb?, across Hamoaze, is to attempt 
 to paint such a mixture of the realities of life with the 
 beauties of nature, the woiks of man with the works of the 
 Creator, as can in no other part of the world be seen to 
 blend into such a harmonious whole. Surely the dullest 
 soul, the giddiest girl, would sometimes pause to survey 
 such a scene, and exclaim : " It is beautiful 1 " 
 
 Such a scene it was that met the eye of Ada Triscott, 
 from the balcony of her uncle's house, one July morning 
 before breakfast, a few days after the change of quarters of 
 the — th from Plymouth to Devonport. But truth compels 
 me to admit that it is not the gleaming waters of the 
 Sound which arrest her attention, nor is it on the verdant 
 beauties of Mount - Edgecumbe that her gaze is fixed ; 
 although to a casual observer, pausing a moment to admire 
 her graceful attitude and fresh young beauty, such might 
 seem to be the case. No, it is upon Raglan Barracks that 
 soft beam is concentrated. Distant but a few hundred 
 yards, the bugle-calls sound clearly through the morning 
 air, and Ada has not passed so many summers in Sioke 
 
 » 
 
A TOUCH OF NATURE 
 
 II 
 
 without learning to know the import of these, to outsiders, 
 generally mysterious sounds. Alas ! that I should be 
 compelled to say so ; but it is nevertheless a fact that the 
 South Raglan Barracks have, with their discordant noises 
 of drummings and bugling, more attraction for Ada, just 
 at present, than all the surrounding beauties of nature put 
 together. She is looking musingly on a facade of windows 
 which she knows to be those of the officers* quarters, and 
 her thoughts run somewhat after thic fashion : 
 
 " I wonder if Mr. Treleaven has come back yet ? From 
 what he told me, that must be his room at the end, but I 
 did not see any light in it when I went to bed last night. 
 He told me he chose it because it was farthest away from 
 the noise in the mess, which always made his head ache. 
 I wonder if he expected me to believe that ? " and the girl, 
 unconsciously, laughed to herself a merry peal, disclosing 
 such a set of pearly teeth between her red lips that, had 
 you been there, O reader, you would, be you male or 
 female, have fallen in love with our heroine on the spot. 
 "There goes the breakfast bugle," sh j continued; "perhaps 
 he is on duty, and going round to ask the men if they have 
 ' any complaints,' " and again she laughed, for Jack had, 
 not long since, given her a highly-amusing description of 
 the arduous duties a British subaltern has to perform in 
 the middle of the night, /.<?., at eight o'clock a.m. 
 
 But we can no longer intrude upon her thoughts, for 
 they were interrupted at this moment by the loud, cheery 
 voice of her uncle, calling : 
 
 *'Now, my child, come along; breakfast, breakfast! 
 eight o'clock. I'm starving." 
 
 It is somewhat significant that Miss Triscott's first 
 morning thoughts should have been of Jack Treleaven ; 
 
 -fj 
 
 I 
 
 i \\ 
 
 m 
 
la 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 and had that worthy, who, I may as well say at once, had 
 not returned to Devonport, been aware of the fact, perhaps 
 he might have regretted having asked for and obtained an 
 extra three days' leave from his indulgent commanding- 
 officer. 
 
 That afternoon, as Ada had just attired herself to go 
 into Plymouth, for tea with some friends, her uncle being 
 out, a Captain Hemmings was announced. A commander 
 in the navy, and, in these days of slow promotion, one of 
 the luckiest men in the service ; his enemies — and they 
 were not a few — said that his rapid advancement was more 
 due to luck and his high connections than to merit. Luck 
 he certainly had, good interest also, but he had never failed 
 either to take advantage of the former or to work the latter; 
 and having recently distinguished himself in a slaving affair, 
 in which he received a nasty wound, he had been appointed, 
 while yet a very junior lieutenant, to the commandership of 
 the Royal Adelaide, stationed at Plymouth, an envied berth. 
 
 He was a good-looking fellow and a great sportsman. 
 An agreeable man, but one who knew how to say disagree- 
 able things ; on the whole, more feared than liked by his 
 juniors in the service, for Captain Hemmings — to use the 
 honorary title a commander always gets — was one of those 
 who never forgot to let his subordinates know he was senior 
 officer. This was naturally — even in the navy, where 
 officers are much more "stand-off" to each other than in 
 the sister service — galling to men who, although much his 
 senior in years, found themselves his inferior in rank. He 
 had been a shipmate and friend of George Triscott, who 
 had been with him, and indeed had saved his life, in the 
 above-mentioned affair, for which George had been duly 
 mentioned in despatches, but, not having Richard Hem- 
 
A TOUCH OF NATURE 
 
 13 
 
 mings' interest at the Admiralty, he was not also promoted, 
 but quietly forgotten. 
 
 Whatever character Lieutenant Hemmings may have 
 borne on board the Raven, where, with the exception of 
 George Triscott — who got on with everybody — he had 
 hardly a friend ; still, want of gratitude was not one of this 
 young officer's faults, and one of his first acts on coming 
 home was to call on his old messmate's uncle to tell him 
 all about his nephew to whom he owed his life. He made 
 acquaintance with Ada at this time, and was struck with 
 her beauty and open manners; she, of course, was natu- 
 rally pleased at hearing her brother so much praised; 
 and thus a considerable friendship had grown up between 
 the pair. 
 
 " Well, Miss Triscott," he commenced, " I fear I have 
 come at the wrong time ; you are evidently just ofiF to the 
 vortex of fashion in Plymouth." 
 
 " Oh, not at all. Captain Hemmings. 1 am only going 
 up to the Hoe, to afternoon tea with the Parkers. I think 
 you know them ; but there is no hurry ; sit down, please, 
 and tell me everything about everybody. I woi.der you 
 are not worked to death with preparations for your dance 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " Oh, well, when you like to go 1 will accompany you 
 up in the tram tc the Parkers. What a blessing that tram 
 is ! and also what a blessing that no one thinks or sets the 
 fadhion of calling it infra dig. to go in it ! As for our dance 
 to-morrow, we shall do our best ; but, as you are coming, its 
 success is of course a foregone conclusion." 
 
 "Now, Captain Hemmings, you had better take care 1 
 I've got a very large book here, and if you make fun of me 
 like that I shall send it straight at you, so beware ! Now, 
 
 I f 
 
 ? J I 
 
14 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 don't chafT — what have you been doing with yourself all 
 these days ? " 
 
 " Well," said the commander, looking admiringly at the 
 lovely face, " yesterday I was fishing for peal on the Tavy, 
 I grieve to say without success ; not so, though, another 
 friend of yours." 
 
 " Who do you mean — Mr. Treleaven ? Oh, I hope he 
 has had good sport; I believe he is really a good fisherman." 
 
 "That is to say, I'm not. Well, never mind, I forgive 
 you. He certainly seems to know who to take to land his 
 fish for him, for, having just lost one myself, I chanced to 
 stumble on Mr. Jack Treleaven in the act of having a peal 
 of about four pounds landed for him in a most masterly 
 manner, by a very pretty young lady, who seemed quite up 
 to the business — but I shouldn't tell you, though, I forgot, 
 I won't say another word." 
 
 Ada flushed, and said, with a slight shade of anger in 
 her voice : 
 
 " What nonsense ! As if it mattered to me who lands 
 Mr. Treleavdn's fish ; " then, laughingly, " he may be 
 landed himself, for all I care ! " but whether that laugh was 
 quite sincere or not, after the soliloquy of the morning, who 
 can tell ? " But, come, Captain Hemmings," she went on, 
 ** who was the lady ? Do I know her ? and is Mr. Tre 
 leaven coming in for your dance ? He is such a splendid 
 dancer, you know, I hope he will come." 
 
 Captain Hemmings looked at her curiously for a moment 
 before answering ; if there had been any trace of annoyance 
 in her tone or manner it had quite faded out as she asked 
 these questions, and she sat so composedly tying together 
 some roses for her dress, that even the suspicious captam 
 felt baffled, but, recovering himself quickly : 
 
i; 
 
 A TOUCH OF NATURE 
 
 15 
 
 y \ 
 
 " Yes, I think you do know the fair pkheuse^ said he, 
 "Miss Nellie Watson. I fancy she is coming in, but, 
 unless she has sufficient weight to persuade Mr. Trelcaven 
 to leave his fishing now the water is in good ply, I really 
 cannot answer for him. As you do not know, you can't 
 expect me to be better informed. However, he's such a 
 good fellow, I hope he will think better of it and come." 
 
 Captain Hemmings thoroughly understood the art of 
 "damning with faint praise." Having now said all he 
 deemed necessary, he suggested an adjournment to Plymoutli 
 and they left the house, Ada still laughing and chatting 
 gaily ; but, for all her gaiety, she did not now feel quite ai 
 happy as in the morning. 
 
 ^1 
 
 m 
 
 \ in 
 
 ii 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A QUAINT FAMILY AND A GOOD APPETITfc 
 
 HAT same evening, at about eight o'clock, a 
 little party of four might have been seen wend- 
 ing its way across the summit of Roborough 
 Down, which is a kind of off-shoot of Dart- 
 moor. The spot upon which this party halted was perhaps 
 as lovely as any throughout a district celebrated for its 
 wild picturesqueness of hill, stream, and dale. The young 
 fellow with a cast of flies round his hat, we know already ; 
 also his friend, Captain Lifton, who has been out to 
 Horrabridge to see how the fishing progresses. The rest of 
 the party consists of two young ladies, who play no un- 
 important part hereafter in this story. 
 
 Nellie and Mary Watson were as handsome girls as 
 any of those to be seen from time to time at Plymouth balls 
 and parties. 
 
 Nellie the elder was about twenty-four; she had fine 
 features, a brilliant complexion, but her eyes were the chief 
 beauty of her face ; they were large and brown with a bright 
 restless expression, until she became specially interested, 
 when, as one of her youthful victims had once remarked, 
 " they seem to go right through you and out at the other 
 side ! " This had of course been repeated to Miss Nellie, 
 >vho, as she said, " scored " the next time she met him, by 
 
A QUAINT FAMILY AND A GOOD APPETITE 17 
 
 gazing at him fixedly for fully five minutes, and then saying 
 in an audible whisper to her sister : '• I wonder if they have 
 got out at the other side yet ! " to the utter discomfiture and 
 confusion of the wretched young sub. 
 
 Unfortunately, this independence of speech and manner 
 sometimes degenerated into a " slanginess " which spoilt 
 her. She had been so accustomed, for the last six or 
 seven years, to doing exactly as she pleased, that she had 
 got into a habit of iiiagining that she was always to have 
 her own way about everything, and was very fond of laying 
 down the law to her numerous male friends and admirers, 
 as to what they should and should not do. Nor was she at 
 all above contradicting flatly, when she chose to disagree 
 with you. That habit frequently estranged her friends for 
 a time, though they generally came back again better friend? 
 than before ; for there was an originality and attractiveness 
 about her very whims and fancies which made one like 
 her, no matter how quarrelsome and dictatorial she chose 
 to be. 
 
 She was a clever and talented girl with all her oddities, 
 and had as good a knowledge of the world as many women 
 double her age, with sufficient strength of mind at the same 
 time to keep what she knew to herself ; and although the 
 recipient of secrets of all kinds, both from women and her 
 semi-piatonic male friends, she had never been known, even 
 when in her worst of tempers, to divulge a word or repeat 
 the most trivial story told her in confidence. She was 
 thoroughly safe, and also, with all her knowledge of men and 
 things, a woman with whom no one ever dreamed of taking 
 the smallest liberty. Indeed, any one doing so would 
 scarcely have dared to repeat the experiment. Her father 
 — sensible man ! — had long since given up trying to control 
 
 s 
 
 \\\\\ 
 
 ' \> ^l 
 
 
i8 
 
 ADA tRI SCOTT 
 
 her ; whimsical himself, he knew that his eldest daughter 
 took after him ; and, with the strongest affection and admi- 
 ration for both his daughters, he felt he could trust them 
 in great things, so left them in minor ones to their own 
 devices. He would still, however, consider it incumbent 
 upon him, about once in a year or six months, to exercise 
 his parental authority in some way or other, when he and 
 Nellie would have a desperate battle, in which it must be 
 confessed she always came off victorious, telling him, when 
 all other argument failed, to " shut up and mind his own 
 business," and finally driving him "with great slaughter" 
 into the study, where, having apostrophised the book-shelves 
 for half an hour or so on the subject of his wilful, head- 
 strong, impertinent, and undutiful daughters, he would be 
 kissed and forgiven by them. 
 
 Mary Watson was two years younger than her sister. 
 Haifa head taller, and built altogether in a larger mould, 
 she equalled, many said surpassed her sister in good looks. 
 She had the bluest eyes, the finest hair, and the best com- 
 plexion on Dartmoor. Although partaking somewhat of her 
 father's humorous nature, she was wanting in the ready wit 
 and esprit of her sister, and did not therefore receive as 
 much general admiration. She was, nevertheless, a clever 
 girl in her quiet way, and in temper so sweet and self-deny- 
 ing, that Mollie, as she was always called, seemed the per- 
 sonification of a happy woman. 
 
 The sisters were much attached to one another. The 
 fiery Nellie would sometimes try to get up a quarrel, but it 
 was impossible to ruffle Mollie's perfect temper; the only 
 reply to these attacks would be a laugh and a few queer 
 words of chaff, which generally ended in the former's join- 
 ing in the laugh against herself. 
 
>. QUAINT FAMILY AND A GOOD APPETITE 19 
 
 They were both good artists, but whereas Nellie, if not 
 perfectly satisfieu with every detail, would get into a rage 
 and tear up a picture she had spent an entire morning at, 
 or leave it unnoticed on her easel for weeks, Mollie worked 
 away so patiently and perse veringly at her oil paintings — 
 chiefly moorland landscapes — that they were already be- 
 coming known, and were, she would tell you, quite a little 
 source of income to her. 
 
 Such are the two Miss Watsons, as they stand before 
 you, reader, on the summit of Roborough, within ten 
 minutes' walk of their home. - 
 
 "Well, Captain Lifton, that's settled," said Nellie, "you 
 come with us and have some grub, and go home by the 
 late train ; that is, if your Damon here can spare you for 
 that short time. I am sure you are dying to walk back to 
 the mill with him to-night to get a good chance of abusing 
 us behind our backs. However, I'm not so certain that 
 Mr. Treleaven would not prefer your room to your company 
 this evening." 
 
 "What on earth are you driving at now. Miss Watson?" 
 jaid Jack. 
 
 " Oh, it's all very well your looking so indignant, Mr. 
 Treleaven ; but I'm not quite a fool, you know, and, to say 
 the least of it, it's rather queer that, the only evening you 
 should have consented to come over, Laura Luscombe 
 should also have come into Horrabridge. But you're quite 
 right not to walk back alone, especially along a haunted 
 road 1 " 
 
 Jack looked a little annoyed but said nothing, while 
 Nellie continued : 
 
 "I suppose. Captain Lifton, you are burning with 
 curiosity to see our ' Maid of the Mill ' ; of course Damon 
 
 » 1*1 
 
 ^\ 
 
20 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 i 
 
 has told you there is something else to keep him out here 
 besides fishing." 
 
 "Well," said Lifton, with a mischievous glance of his 
 merry brown eyes at MoUie, which she seemed to under- 
 stand perfectly, " I rather thought there was something 
 besides fishing to keep Jack here, but upon my word it's the 
 first I've heard of any * Maid of the Mill,' and, as he tells 
 me all his secrets, I think you must be wrong for once." 
 
 " That's quite right, honour among thieves ; of course 
 you won't split, but we know, don't we, Mollie ? " 
 
 " Come along, Mollie," said Jack, " I'm sure you won't 
 stop here to hear my character destroyed by your bad sister. 
 Let us go and eat up the tea before she gets a chance. I 
 know how to punish you. Miss Watson. If you have a 
 really weak point, it's your appetite." 
 
 There was a general laugh at this, for Nellie's good 
 appetite was an old joke against her. 
 
 "That's right, Mr. Treleaven," said Mollie, "jump on 
 her while she is down ; she says she never gets any one to 
 look after her at supper half as well as you do, so if I were 
 you I should certainly not come in for the ball after all these 
 unkind remarks. Now then, off ! " 
 
 So saying, and accompanied by Jack, she started off at 
 a run down the hill, jumping over the heather and bracken 
 like a fawn, and heedless of the cries and entreaties of the 
 pair left at the top "to stop and give them a chance." 
 They ran until they were out of sight, and in a few minutes 
 had gained the hospitable Moor Lodge, the home of the 
 Watsons. 
 
 They found Mr. Watson already at his ireal, for it was a 
 house where everybody looked after themselves, and went 
 in and came out as they pleased; and, under Mollie's 
 
A QUAINT FAMILY AND A GOOD APPETITE 2t 
 
 general supervision as housekeeper, this principle seemed 
 to suit them all thoroughly. 
 
 Mr. Watson welcomed Jack heartily, and then turning 
 to Mollie asked : 
 
 "Where's Nellie?" 
 
 " Out on the moor with Captain Lifton," said Mollie. 
 
 " Oh, well," said her father, " I suppose they'll come in 
 when she gets hungry. Sit down, Treleaven — you've done 
 a wise thing to bring the only sensible member of the family 
 to look after you." 
 
 Nellie and Captain Lifton appeared presently, and they 
 all sat down to tea. 
 
 Conversation soon turned upon the subject of the ball 
 on the Adelaide, and Mollie began by saying : 
 
 •' Really, joking apart, and putting Nellie's appetite out 
 of the question as a matter of no consequence, I shall be 
 personally very much aggrieved if you don't come, for 1 had 
 counted upon at least three good waltzes with you; we 
 both know our steps suit each other perfectly, and we 
 haven't had a dance together for so long. However, I 
 suppose I shall have to sit out and become a wall-flower 
 like Nellie, that is if it is one of her nights for calling herself 
 passUP 
 
 There was considerable amusement caused at the idea 
 of MoUie's sitting out for want of a partner. She was 
 generally reckoned the best dancer at any of the Assembly 
 or other balls, and had not ever, in the memory of man, 
 been known to sit out a dance. Her sister was not so fond 
 of dancing, consequently nothing like so good a dancer — 
 still, with her beautiful face and figure, if for no other 
 reason, she might have danced everything, and had her 
 choice besides of all the best/ar//V in the room. But one 
 
 ■J 
 
22 
 
 ADA TRl SCOTT 
 
 w 
 
 of the quaint girl's latest freaks had been to say she was too 
 old for round dances, and to sit out with the chaperons, 
 dance after dance, to the annoyance of her many admirers. 
 However, as she said herself, she was "all there" when 
 supper began ; and there was as much emulation among 
 the men to take her in to supper as there was to get a dance 
 from her sister. Jack Treleaven had lately been the 
 favoured one, and had been in the habit of keeping two 
 dances vacant on his programme for this express purpose, 
 and, as Miss Watson gave out that no one else looked 
 after her so well on that important occasion, he was con- 
 sidered a lucky fellow to be in her good graces. 
 
 " Now, Captain Lifton," said Mollie, " won't you try to 
 persuade Mr. Treleaven to give up his fishing and come to 
 the ball?" 
 
 " Bung " looked rather confused at this suggestion, for 
 he was not quite prepared to fall in with it. Visions of 
 Ada Triscott and a recent conversation he had had with 
 Mr. Jack concerning that young lady, rose in his mind, and 
 he thought, on the whole, that Jack was safer where he 
 was : so he answered : 
 
 " Well, Miss Watson, if I had such flattering remarks 
 made about my dancing, etc., as Jack has, I should not be 
 able to resist any longer. But then, you see, I'm not a 
 fisherman. They tell me time, tide, and fish wait for no 
 man. Captain Hemmings, whom I saw this morning, told 
 me Mr. Treleaven's success in that line was entirely due to 
 his being able to get the morning's fishing. And if he does 
 not get Thursday morning, he is not likely to get another 
 for some time ; for the colonel has been kicking up a row 
 about leave, and nothing vexes him more than when a man 
 hab applied for an extension, and after giving him all the 
 
A QUAINT FAMILY AND A GOOD APPETITE 23 
 
 trouble about signing it and making it square with the 
 general, his coming back before it has expired." 
 
 It must be owned that Lifton was romancing a little in 
 this statement anent the colonel, from beginning to end ; 
 but, as his intention was a good one, let us hope that the 
 recording angel did not make a very black mark against his 
 name. But it was all no good, for Nellie, laying down her 
 knife and fork, and fixing her most penetrating look on him 
 as she spoke, said, deliberately : 
 
 ** Now, look here, Captain Lifton. If you think I am 
 going to be done out of my supper by all the colonels and 
 generals in the service, you're very much mistaken. There's 
 only one man in the three towns who understands how to 
 feed me properly, and that's your Dam*. , Jack Treleaven. 
 Now, as my constitution is a particularly delicate one, I 
 cannot afford to have it trifled with by the first comer. So, 
 if Mr. Treleaven doesn't go, neither do I, and I shall have 
 spoilt MoUie's best ball-dress, which I thought suited my 
 style of beauty, and had therefore appropriated, for nothing. 
 Now, Jack Treleaven, what do you say ? " 
 
 A subdued chuckle, and " Go it, Nell ! " was here heard 
 from the arm-chair, whither Watson pere had retired. Jack 
 was now " hole-and-cornered " most completely. 
 
 "To go or not to go, that is the question," said MoUie, 
 sententiously. '* Think of my lost dance." 
 
 " And my lost supper," said Nellie. 
 
 " And my lost dress," from MoUie. 
 
 ** And your lost fish," said Bung. 
 
 "And Nellie's lost temper;" this from the arm-chair. 
 
 "That decides it," said Jack, amid the general laughter, 
 and with a queer look at Lifton. *' Confound the fish, I'll 
 gol 
 
 H 
 
 M 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 SOME SENTIMENT ON BOARD THE "ADELAIDE." 
 
 ;0 those who have never been at a dance on 
 board a man-of-war, it may seem a matter of 
 surprise that a ball on board ship can ever be 
 a success. Some people have a kind of idea 
 that all ships are, more or less, a sort of conglomeration of 
 pitch and tar — those of the Royal Navy no less than others ; 
 and that ladies, if determined to go to a thing of the kind, 
 should put on their oldest garments before starting, and 
 indeed should expect, if ever they return at all, to do so 
 having left the greater part of their habiliments adhering to 
 the sides of the vessel, or minus a heel left in the oakum 
 caulking of the seams. Little do such as these, and inex- 
 perienced land-lubbers generally, "know of the height to 
 which the ingenuity and hospitality of the British naval 
 officer can attain, or how ably their instructions are carried 
 out by those blue-jackets who are as much the sons of 
 Terpsichore as of Neptune. No, when the naval officer 
 does "break out," it is in good earnest; and, unless the 
 elements are very much against him, his labour is rarely in 
 vain. 
 
 On the occasion of the ball on board the Adelaide, 
 everything was in favour of the sailors. The night was 
 clear and warm, and the waters of Hamoaze were like a 
 
SENTIMENT ON BOARD THE ''ADELAIDE'' 25 
 
 mill-pond. Consequently, the steam-launches sent by the 
 officers to the various landing-places in Plymouth and 
 Devonport brought off batches of people thoroughly pre- 
 pared to enjoy themselves, and not, as is sometimes the 
 case, cargoes of half-drowned, three-quarters sea-sick, and 
 wholly discontented persons. On this occasion not even 
 *' paterfamilias," as he comfortably stretched himself on the 
 cushioned seat3 of the launch, had the slightest apology for 
 a grumble, however much he might regret his after-dinner 
 nap at home. The dancing took place on the upper deck, 
 but, had you not known this beforehand, you might have 
 thought it a very good imitation of fairy-land, for what with 
 the wealth of exotics, fern and flowers, the flags covering 
 every inch of boarding, and the Chinese lanterns, the 
 whole place had been so transformed that the oldest blue- 
 jacket on board must have been more inclined to imagine 
 himself in the sailor's paradise, Fiddlers' Green, than on 
 board one of Her Majesty's ships of war. 
 
 I cannot, however, attempt to describe all the arrange- 
 ments made by the Adelaides for the comfort of their guests. 
 Were I to do so, I might call some part of the ship by an 
 unnautical name, and thereby bring down upon my devoted 
 head the universal condemnation of every officer who ever 
 has, or ever may serve on board one of these gallant old 
 three-deckers. 
 
 Suffice it to state that there were comfortable snuggeries 
 for the chaperons well out of the way of the dancers, and 
 flirtation-corners with only two chairs, arranged everywhere 
 on poop and quarter-deck, graduating away from the full 
 light of what may be called the ball-room, to where nought 
 but the very faintest ray of a Chinese lantern served to 
 §how fi corner, and the proximity of its occupants, without 
 
 Hi 
 
 iMJ 
 
 < i 
 
26 
 
 ADA TRI SCOTT 
 
 I \ 
 
 iih 
 
 indiscreetly revealing their features. The strains of " Les 
 Sirbnes " had hardly died away when one of these far-away 
 corners was occupied by Jpck Treleaven and Ada Triscott. 
 How lovely she looked, as leaning back, gently fanning 
 herself, she turned her soft expressive eyes on Jack ! Dark 
 as it was, there was a light in them that set Jack's heart 
 wildly beating under his mess jacket. Accustomed as he 
 was to every phase of flirtation, he could not help saying to 
 himself: "This is something more than I deserve, by 
 heavens ! Lifton was right, I ought never to speak to Ada 
 again unless I ask her to marry me." 
 
 And yet, this was at that time about the very last thing 
 that good-natured, good-looking, good-for-nothing young 
 officer contemplated. His feelings, if analysed, would 
 have been something as follows : He wished to have the 
 prettiest girl in the place in love with him ; he was flattered 
 that she should show that preference for him in a marked 
 manner, to the discomfiture of all rivals ; and though 
 feeling for her more than the usual passing fancy for a 
 pretty face, and knowing himself jure of her love at any 
 time, he still — with characteristic selfishness and love of 
 amusement — would not see why that should prevent his 
 showing marked attention to, and enjoying himself with, 
 other girls in general, and Nellie Watson in particular. 
 
 Poor Ada ! Jack was her first love ; she had never 
 even had a serious flirtation with any one before, and 
 he was, she knew it, all the world to her. She had loved 
 him since the first time she had seen his handsome face, 
 and heard aus pleasant, cheery voice, and her love had 
 intensified day by day. She had not of course known 
 him so long and so well, without seeing and knowing 
 that he paid attention to other pretty girls besides herself j 
 
 V ■ 
 
 I 
 
 II ; 
 
SENTIMENT ON BOARD THE ''ADELAIDE'' 27 
 
 II 
 
 ^'f 
 
 but hers was no mean nature given to petty spites and 
 jealousies. She worshipped her idol and king far too 
 well not to place thorough trust and confidence in him ; 
 but, tiiough she could not help letting him see unmistakably 
 how much more he was to her than other men, her woman's 
 pride made her do her best to conceal from him the real 
 state of her loving, passionate heart. 
 
 " Oh I how I have enjoyed that waltz," she was saying. 
 " I was so afraid you would not come back for the ball ; 
 Captain Hammings told me yesterday he did not think 
 you would, as you were far too lucky with the peal." 
 
 " Confound Hemmings ! I wish he would mind his 
 own business, and not trouble himself about me. Why, 
 you know, Ada, that it was an impossibility for me to 
 keep away, when I knew you were going to be here." 
 
 "How much of that do you expect me to believe, 
 Mr. Treleaven, and how many times have you said that 
 sort of thing before?" said Ada, merrily, for she was 
 pleased at the speech. " I'm afraid you think we country 
 girls will believe anything. It is fortunate for us that we 
 don't quite do so, though." 
 
 " Upon my word, I do mean it, though," said Jack, 
 taking her hand gently, which she tried to withdraw, but 
 eventually left in his grasp; "you know there is nobody 
 in the 'three towns,' or out of them, I would as soon 
 dance with as yourself, or whose society I enjoy so much 
 as yours, when only I am lucky enough to get it." 
 
 Ada was silent and sighed softly, and as Jack gazed 
 intently into her eyes, the witchery of the moment was on 
 them both. The grasp of their hands insensibly tightened, 
 and Jack felt he did indeed, for once, mean every word he 
 had said. Presently he commenced, in a low tone : 
 
 i. 
 
 ' % 
 
 ,11 
 
 ! 
 
 
38 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 f, I 
 
 " Ada, if " but the sentence was never completed, 
 
 for at that momeat a footstep was heard, and the shining 
 epaulettes of a naval officer were seen approaching. Their 
 hands separated, and as Ada rose, recognising her partner 
 in Captain Hemmings, before he had discovered her. Jack, 
 with something very like an oath in his heart, if not on 
 his lips, had only just time to wiiisper, " The second extra, 
 then, if you really fcan't give me another," before she was 
 borne away from his side. He stood for a few moments, 
 leaning over the ship's side, listening to the plashing of 
 the tide, and then he too turned and joiueo the dancers. 
 
 That, however, was fated to be the last dance he was 
 to have with Ada Triscott that night, for long before the 
 second extra came off William Triscott had carried his 
 niece off, back to Tamar Terrace, and bed. 
 
 Had Jack's sentence been finished, this story might 
 have been ended here; but what trivial things alter our 
 fate ! Having sauntered back into the ball-room. Jack 
 stood leaning moodily against the door, watching Ada's 
 lissome figure encircled by the arm of Captain Hemmings, 
 when he was aroused from his reverie by hearing a well- 
 known voice behind, saying, in a slightly mocking tone, 
 
 •* Why so pale and wan, young sinner, 
 Prithee, why so pale ? 
 Will, if looking well won't win her, 
 Looking ill prevail ? " 
 
 He turned round quickly with a look of annoyance, 
 and was about to speak, but the comical expression of 
 pensive sadness on Nellie Watson's face, for it was she, 
 completely disarmed him, and they both burst out laughing; 
 but Nellie, calling up a dismal look to her fa?e again, said : 
 
 " Oh, no ! I beg your pardon, that is not exactly what 
 
SENTIMENT ON BOARD THE ^'ADELAIDE'' 29 
 
 I should have said, Mr. Trelc.iven ; of course it is quite 
 immaterial to you what you look like, still, you might culti- 
 vate your countenance a little as well as your moustache — 
 which I know you only consider as a duty you owe to 
 society — and hide your feelings. Now take a lesson from 
 me, for I am determined to be gay, though I am positively 
 pining for a dance with Captain Hemmings, who has been 
 pretending not to see me all the evening. How nicely they 
 dance together, don't tliey ? " 
 
 "Pining for supper is much more like it," said Jack, 
 ignoring the last query. 
 
 " Oh, well 1 ' Quand on n'a pas ce qu'on aime, il faut 
 aimer ce qu'on a,' and I shall have to make love to supper 
 instead of to Captain Hemmings, you to me instead of to 
 Ada Triscott, and Ada to the commander of the Adelaide^ 
 instead of increasing your precious stock of self-conceit by 
 showing every one that you are adored by the prettiest girl 
 at the ball." 
 
 This speech set Jack's back up at once, for it wounded 
 the very conceit Nellie referred to, and there is nothing so 
 annoying to a conceited man as to know he is found out. 
 He therefore began a quarrel, as the best way out of it. 
 He did not choose to take up the part that referred to 
 himself, but chose rather to reply : 
 
 " What right have you to speak of Miss Triscott in that 
 way? One would think, to hear you run her down, that 
 you are jealous of her." 
 
 Nellie's eyes flashed, but commanding her voice, she 
 answered, in the same bantering tone : 
 
 " Well, so I am jealous of her, but only because she is 
 monopolising the attentions of that delightful Captain 
 Hemmings whom I positively dote upon." 
 
 
 > i 
 
30 AVA TR/SCOTT 
 
 "You dote upon everybody — you'll be altogether in 
 your dotage soon." 
 
 " Or you may," said Nellie, laughing ; and that ended 
 the quarrel for that time, which was beginning to look 
 threatening. For their quarrels usually ended thus with 
 a joke. 
 
 Mollie, who was passing with Lifton, stopped to say : 
 " I thought you two peojile were going to have one of 
 your usual fights ; you looked so cross as we came f long, I 
 had quite made up my mind that this was to be another 
 three weeks' fight, or rather three wc.eks' sulking-match. 
 Pray don't irritate her, Mr. Treleaven, she is quite harmless 
 if left alone, only a little eccentric. Captain Lifton, just 
 explain, quietly, will you, that it is the nature of the 
 animal, that's all ; but he forgets that if he rouses its angry 
 passions for his own amusement I shall have a dreadful 
 time of it at home." 
 
 " Mollie, I will be the death of you," said Nellie, 
 laughing. 
 
 " I'm afraid it is too late," said Lifton. " You see already 
 she threatens to commit murder ; but you know I look upon 
 Jack in the light o. her keeper, and he will probably 
 produce a muzzle if she becomes dangerous." 
 
 " There will be two murders now instead of one," said 
 Nellie, solemnly. " I warn you. Captain Lifton, that your 
 blood will be upon your own head." 
 
 " I think now is the time to produce the muzzle if you 
 have it about you," said Mollie to Jack, in a stage whisper ; 
 and with this parting shot the light-headed pair made their 
 escape, leaving the late belligerents in a thoroughly good 
 humour with each other, which lasted for the rest of the 
 evening. 
 
SENTIMENT ON BOARD THE '' ^IDELAIDE'' 31 
 
 It is true they indulged in a good deal of mutual chaff, 
 but it verged rather more on the sentimental than anything 
 else. Although Nellie always pretended to hate sentiment, 
 she nevertheless sometimes indulged unintentionally in a 
 little of it herself when in the society of a man she knew 
 and liked as she did Jack, whose mentor she pretended and 
 imagined herself to be. Somehow the role of mentor, 
 when undertaken by a pretty woman, and carried out, late 
 at night in a ball-room, is rarely displeasing either to teacher 
 or pupil. Advice leads to moralising, and often, after a 
 few glasses of champagne, moralising frequently becomes 
 sentiment. At any rate. Jack and Nellie parted that evening 
 — or morning — on uncommonly good terms with each other, 
 and vowing that they never would fight any more, they were 
 too great friends for that, they said, and liked, respected, 
 and esteemed each other far too much 1 On the whole, 
 they thought the ball a succesa. 
 
 if* i 
 
 % 
 
 iHs |i- 
 
 M^ 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ON THF. HOE AND HOMEWARD BOUND. 
 
 DA had also enjoyed the ball. She had regretted 
 not being able to give Jack more dances ; still 
 he had had a couple, and then the teU-d-tite 
 in the dark, on the poop, had been worth 
 to her half-a-dozen more. She had seen Jack con- 
 soling himself for her loss during the remainder of the 
 evening with Miss Watson; but not being of a jealous 
 temperament, unless regularly aroused, that did not disturb 
 her mind in the very least. She knew alao of the sort of 
 pseudo-platonic affection that existed between the young 
 lieutenant and Nellie, and often made it the subject of 
 merry banter. Indeed, the Watsons were Jack's oldest 
 friends in the neighbourhood, and, considering their house 
 was always open to him day or night, it is not surprising 
 that he should have been on the best of terms with them, 
 nor did Ada think it so. 
 
 However, it was at Tamar Terrace he passed the most 
 of his spare time for the next week or two, as the departure 
 of the Triscotts had been postponed owing to the news that 
 H.M.S. Haven was not only suddenly ordered home, 
 but well on her way, having already reached the Suez Canal. 
 William Triscott, who was very fond of his nephew, deter- 
 mined to await his arrival. Apart from the pleasure that 
 
 1 
 
ON THE HOE AND HOMEWARD BOUND 33 
 
 expecting her brother gave Iier, Ada found another and a 
 deeper one which increased as the days went on. Her 
 uncle and Treleaven were very good friends, and as she 
 was left to do very much as she pleased, and was utterly 
 unfettered by the so-called looking after of a chaperon, 
 she passed a considerable part of the day in the society of 
 the man she loved. Jack would generally come for after- 
 noon tea or sooner, and th?n, accompanying her into 
 Plymouth, pass an hour or so with her in that Paradise for 
 idlers. 
 
 Many an hour did this couple spend on the Hoe, on 
 the very ground where Drake and Hawkins were playing 
 their game of bowls when the news of the advent of the 
 Spaoish Armada was brought to them. 
 
 Apart from the fact that, on a fine afternoon, one was 
 sure to see on the Hoe all friends and acquaintances not 
 already met in a preliminary turn up and down George 
 Street, this grassy promenade, overlooking the sea as it 
 does from a considerable height, has a charm all its own, 
 quite different to the usual style of parade at a sea-side 
 place. 
 
 The sea from the Hoe seems to have a deeper blue than 
 from elsewhere, and the breeze, never boisterous, feels there 
 fresher and purer. The men-of-war coming in or out, 
 and either working their way past the little fortified f^let, 
 known as Drake's Island, into Hamoaze, or swinging round 
 on their anchors two miles away in the lee of the breakwater,^ 
 are always present to give food ibr conjecture as to their 
 names or destinations, their armament or class. 
 
 The fishing craft and yachts gliding around Mount 
 Batten into the Catte-water are another object of amuse- 
 ment and speculation to the lounger ; while, if only to gaze 
 
 
 t 
 
 1 i 
 
34 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 upon the lovely green of Mount-Edgecumbe, with its fine, 
 massive old gray house standing out in its setting of 
 foliage, like a pearl among emeralds, it is well worth while 
 passing an hour upon the Hoe. 
 
 However, we will not dwell longer upon the beauties 
 and attractions, for are they not written in the hearts of all 
 those who have experienced them ? and especially if, like 
 that lucky fellow Jack Treleaven, they have been experienced 
 in the company of as beautiful a girl as Ada Triscctt, the 
 expression of whose lustrous eyes and sweet parted lips tells 
 plainly enough the loving feelings of her happy heart. And 
 now, O reader, try to discover why our hero found the 
 Hoe so remarkably lovely upon those happy summer after- 
 noons ! 
 
 Yes, Jack was very happy — and Ada ? She was drinking 
 in drops of bliss, delighting in his presence, and loving him 
 more and more day by day. Oh, Ada, take care ! What 
 will you do when the hour of parting comes ? Do you not 
 know that these soldiers are here to-day and gone to- 
 morrow ? Torn away, often sadly against their will, perhaps 
 because another regiment is required in India, or, maybe, 
 only because there are a couple of companies wanted in 
 Cork or Tipperary. Take care, Ada, take care ! You are 
 giving yourself up too passionately and entirely, pouring 
 out all the warm love of your nature upon this handsome, 
 good-humoured young fellow ; but what will you do should 
 he trifle with that love and passion ? Answer, if you can ! 
 
 She cares not, it is indeed too late ; while he likes her to 
 love him she is satisfied. He accepts her silent adoration 
 gracefully — perhaps he loves her too, he certainlv likes 
 being with her, and occasionally says or implies as much. 
 At any rate, the lock she sees in his bold blue eyes be- 
 
ON THE HOE AND HOMEWARD BOUND 35 
 
 tokens something more than mere admiration, and Ada is 
 happy, oh ! so happy, when she thinks that her hero loves 
 her. He, a soldier, who has been everywhere and seen 
 everything, loves her, a little Devonshire country girl — at 
 least she thinks so, sometimes. Is she right ? Ah, Ada, 
 may you never find out to your sorrow that you are mis- 
 taken, and that this happy, free-and-easy young soldier, 
 whom every one likes, is just simply amusing himself with 
 you, " to keep his hand in." 
 
 In the meantime, George Triscott's ship, the Raven^ was 
 flying along gaily before a south-westerly breeze. But she 
 was detained at Vigo, and having strict orders from the 
 Admiralty as to economy in coal, was obliged to finish her 
 voyage under canvas ; so the Raven, although really a fast 
 sailer, seemed positively to creep to those on board longing 
 for home and the tender embraces of those dear to them. 
 
 It was evening, and several groups were gathered on 
 her decks, scanning with eager eyes the Ushant light 
 shining faintly on the starboard-bow in the gloom of the 
 darkening twilight. 
 
 One of these groups had assembled on the forecastle, 
 where, as is usual when blue-jackets are in a good humour, 
 some of them had collected for a " yarn " and a song. 
 One of the number had just finished a celebrated " fore- 
 bitter," as songs sung before the " bits " are called in 
 nautical parlance. " Ninety-five fathom and a clear sandy 
 bottom," is essentially a homeward-bound song, mentioning 
 every place of interest the sailor passes on his homeward 
 course, Ushant, of course, being one of them. The singer 
 had just sat down, amid tumultuous applause ; the very 
 worst singer would have been encored that night, but this 
 was indeed one of no ordinary power ; he possessed a tenor 
 
 D 2 
 
 ' '■ 
 
 ji 
 
 
 ;. fj 
 
! 
 
 I I 
 
 3« 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 voice of great sweetness, and as he did not neglect to drawl 
 and dwell upon his words in the way dear to seamen, his 
 songs were always a success. He was a fine stalwart fellow, 
 with a black beard, deep-chested and strong-limbed, with 
 muscles of iron. William Fox, quartermaster on board the 
 Raven^ was a man of about thirty-two, and, you would say, 
 decidedly the sort of man to have on your side in a quarrel. 
 He had had some education, and did not spring by any 
 means from the lowest of the people, and, having a good 
 memory, he not only did not forget what he had learned 
 when he was a boy, but improved himself to the best of his 
 ability, as he knocked about the world. He was devoted 
 to George Triscott, always accompanied him as his coxswain 
 in boat-cruising expeditions, and often in his sporting trips 
 as well. X 
 
 " Bravo, Bill ! " said little Jack Stentiford, as spokesman 
 for the rest, " we alius did like your moosical voice, but I'm 
 jolly well blowed if this blessed sou'-west breeze don't 
 seem to blow them notes out of your whistle ten times ^ 
 clearer nor usual. Why, I 'spects your Poll will hear them , 
 rolling on the wind clearer nor a telegraph wire, and be^ 
 looking out of her winder to see if it isn't a bloomin* f 
 message to say you'll be in to see her soon enough for 
 breakfast, and want some new-laid heggs and extra rasaers 
 of bacon got in a-puppus for you.*' 
 
 " Thank 'ee, Jack," said Fox, " I don't happen to have 
 a Poll convenient enough to slip in to breakfast with her ; 
 but, please God, if this breeze holds, I'll eat my break- 
 fast in dear Old England the day after to-morrow all 
 the same, and I dare say it will be a sight better than 
 salt junk, for I am to go up to Mr. Triscott's as soon at 
 I get ashore." 
 
 I 
 
ON THE HOE AND HOMEWARD BOUND 37 
 
 r; 
 
 " Ah," said Jack, " that's a deal better and more reliable 
 than a Poll, don't you see ? " 
 
 " How's that, Jack, my hearty ? '* 
 
 " Why, becos them bloomin* Polls is so changeable *, 
 who knows if they'd have the heggs and bacon ready for 
 yer arter four years' absence at sea ; you might find her 
 took up with and a-feedin' of some other feller with what 
 ought to be your pervisions, which in fac* is usually the 
 case, I understands. But, don't yer see, a good officer and 
 a nice gentleman like Mr. Triscott, he ain't one of that sort, 
 and if he sez, William, heggs and bacon, he means William, 
 heggs and bacon, hand sausages too ! " 
 
 " Right you are, my boy. Let's give him three cheers,'* 
 said William. " Three cheers for Mr. Triscott ; " and three 
 such cheers were given as must have made the distant 
 lighthouse tremble to its foundation. 
 
 When the cheering — which had startled, but not sur- 
 prised, the officers on the quarter-deck, ignorant as they 
 were of its import — had concluded. Jack Stentiford rose. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he remarked, " I'm a-thinkin' suffin, and 
 when yer quite ready, I'll commoonicate my commitations 
 to yer." 
 
 "Hear, hear!" "Goon, Jack." "Spit it out." "What 
 is it?" etc., was the cry on every side. Jack was con- 
 sidered a good orator by his messmates, and the prospect 
 of a speech and the cheering had caused many more of 
 those not on duty to assemble. 
 
 " Well, I'm a-thinkin' that this would be a very sootable 
 hopportunity to pay the hofficers hout, for what, owing to 
 Lieutenant Hemmings — of whom, as he's gone, and was a 
 friend of Mr. Triscott's, I won't say nolhink — v.^ was 
 defrauded of last Christmas Day. Now, if so be as you 
 
 W'\ 
 
 iJT! 
 
 1 y 
 
38 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 remember, we was goin' to carry them once round the ship, 
 but we was stopped. There was, sartinly, then one hofficer 
 I shouldn't have broksn my 'eart over, if he 'ad a-fallen 
 over the side. 'Owever, we was done out of carrying Mr. 
 Triscott anyway ; and, as this is probably the last night we 
 shall ever cruise together, we may as well do it now, and 
 carry him twice round. It won't be inwidious if we carries 
 the others, all on 'em, only once round, becos' why ? they'll 
 think we'd be tired." 
 
 This suggestion was carried nem. con. with tremendous 
 applause. 
 
 "Now," said Jack, "we have to ax the First's per- 
 mission." 
 
 "There you're wrong, Jack," said Fox; "a fellow like 
 you should have more sense than to think of such a thing. 
 If we ask the First Lieutenant, of course, as we're going to 
 carry him too, he'll say no. We must ask the skipper." 
 
 " Ax the skipper? and 'oo's a-goin' to 'ave the cheek to 
 bea/d him ? and 'ow's it a-goin' to be done without the First 
 a-knowin' what's up ? I darn't do it, Bill ! " 
 
 "I will," said William; "you see, there he is on the 
 quarter-deck. Follow me aft, all of you, and I'll tell the 
 First * Luff ' I want to speak to the cappen in private." 
 
 No sooner said than done. The men all proceeded aft 
 in a body. The officers, as they saw them coming, were 
 puzzled beyond measure to know the meaning of it, more 
 so still when Fox asked to speak to the captain in private. 
 Hats in hand, the men stood respectfully at a little distance, 
 anxiously awaiting the result of the conference, which they 
 saw the skipper had graciously accorded to their deputy. 
 
 The captain was a strict officer, but a good-natured man, 
 and he saw no reason for preventing the blue-jackets from 
 
ON THE HOE AND HOMEWARD BOUND 39 
 
 
 showing their good feelings, in their own way, towards their 
 officers on this the last night of their being all at sea to- 
 gether. On the whole, he was rather pleased than the reverse, 
 for it showed that this had been a happy ship. He laugh- 
 ingly gave the desired permission, bargaining that they were 
 to wait until he went below, before commencing operations. 
 They had not long to wait j for, after exchanging a few 
 words on indifferent subjects with one of the officers, he 
 went below. 
 
 In a moment, almost before his hat had disappeared 
 down the hatchway, that respectfully waiting throng had 
 changed apparently to a troop of howling devils ; at least, 
 so they seemed for a moment to the astonished officers, 
 nearly all of whom were on deck. With a rush and a wild 
 " hooroosh," they swarmed upon the quarter-deck. It was a 
 race for who should be first, for most of them wanted to 
 have a hand in the hoisting of George Triscott. However, 
 William Fox, who had kept his foremost place, was the first 
 to bear down upon him, while the late orator, and originator 
 of the scheme, had him by the legs in a second. Half-a- 
 dozen more seized him by any available part of his body, 
 and before he had time to struggle he found himself high in 
 the air above their heads. The same scene was enacted all 
 round, while a party descended and brought up the vainly 
 struggling officers who had been below. Order was at 
 an end ; and the officers for once had to obey the men. 
 Round the ship they went " hurrahing " themselves hoarse. 
 One circuit concluded, they were liberated from their 
 gentle nurses' arms ; all except Triscott, who had to undergo 
 another round to the tune of " He's a jolly good fellow." 
 By the captain's orders every man then got a glass of grog, 
 and thus passed the last evening on board the Raven, 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE milli';r s daughter. 
 
 ^i^voifjjOR a week or so after George's return home, 
 wiS ^^^"^ ^^^ "^^ ^^^ much of Jack Treleaven. 
 . ^iiMs ^^ called and made the acquaintance of the 
 sailor, but, wisely thinking that Ada and her 
 uncle would like to have the latter alone to themselves 
 just at first, he kept away for some time after that. 
 Not so Captain Hemuiings; he was a more frequent 
 visitor at Tamar Terrace than ever, ostensibly coming to 
 see his old messmate, and at the same time spending many 
 a pleasant hour in Ada's society. Jack and ** Bung " at 
 this period passed a great deal of their time out at Horra- 
 bridge. Lifton, though a quiet sort of man, was a clever 
 fellow in his way. He was a good amateur artist, and as 
 such had many tastes in common with the Watson girls. 
 
 One day about the beginning of September, they found 
 themselves as usual out at Horrabridge. Jack soon left 
 them, to walk over to Denham Bridge for an hour or two 
 on the river, leaving Lifton to accompany the young ladies 
 in their walk on the moor. They had reached a com- 
 manding spot near Walkhampton Church, which stands 
 alone on a hill directly overlooking the narrow valley of the 
 little River Walkham, with its rocky sides, and indirectly 
 giving a much more extensive view over Dartmoor and 
 Roborough Down. 
 
THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER 
 
 41 
 
 " Stop, Miss Watson, and look," said Lifton. " This is, 
 I think, one of the finest views in the country ; but how the 
 bracken has changed colour since I was out here last I 
 What lovely tints of red and orange, changing into the 
 deep puiply gloom of the valley where the shadow falls 1 
 What a beautiful study it makes ! but one so far above me 
 that I would never dare to attempt it. How happy you 
 must be to live in such a spot I I should think you never 
 have time for anything but to admire the view." 
 
 *' Indeed, Captain Lifton, I think you underrate your 
 powers," said Nellie. " What I have seen of your painting 
 makes me think you are just the man who would do 
 justice to that view. Your sketches are so nice in detail. 
 Where I should miss the shadow of a rock or of a pro- 
 jecting bush, that would be the very thing you would give 
 your most delicate touches to. What a capital husband 
 you would be I One would have only to paint the outlines, 
 and then send you to finish the picture. It's very un- 
 fortunate that my young affections are engaged, and that 
 there is no chance for me in that line." 
 
 As Nellie said this, she elevated her eyebrows and made 
 a coquettish little " moue," as if she might really have 
 meant what she said ; and Lifton, who was always slightly 
 nervous at any approach to the idea of matrimony, looked 
 a little frightened as he answered, evidently anxious to shift 
 the responsibility at once on to somebody else's shoulders : 
 " Oh, indeed ; and who's the happy man who will have 
 the honour of finishing up your pictures for you ? Not that 
 I fancy you would let anybody within a mile of you before 
 you had yourself finished or spoilt one." 
 
 " Why, really Captain Lifton, you must be very dense 
 if you have not observed that I am pining for Damon. 
 
 IH 
 
 
 
 * 
 
4S 
 
 ADA riU SCOTT 
 
 Yes," as he looked incredulous, " I am even content to be 
 third after Miss Triscott and that horrid little • Maid of the 
 Mill,' who I feel convinced is the only fish he will catch 
 this afternoon. But alas for my pictures ! the only art he 
 understands is the art of gastronomy \ still that's a good deal 
 in these degenerate days." 
 
 " Why, yes, I dare say that is a good deal ; but I 
 imagine you would require something more in a husband ? 
 Constancy, for example, is a good thing, and apparently 
 you don't credit Jack with much of that quality. But why 
 do you harp so incessantly on that girl at the mill ? What 
 on earth can she have to do with Jack ? I don't see how, 
 if he is catching fish, he can have time to see much of 
 her." 
 
 " Bless you, you dear simple man," cried Nellie, sarcas- 
 tically ; and then, after a little pause, " Well, I will own it is 
 very unbecoming of me to pretend to notice these things ; 
 but I haven't lived all my life with my eyes shut, and I 
 know what you soldiers are. You go on in the most out- 
 rageous way with every pretty girl you meet — I don't mean 
 you personally, I think you're too shy — but most of you do, 
 and Jack Treleaven would, I'm sure ; then he is so good- 
 looking that a little flirt like Laura Luscombe would soon 
 have her head turned by his pretty speeches. I believe her 
 to be a designing little thing too, for all her sweet looks." 
 Nellie lowered her voice and looked very serious, as she went 
 on : " You know. Captain Lifton, it is because I really want 
 you to put Jack Treleaven on his guard that I speak to you 
 now about what perhaps I had better not mention ; person- 
 ally I should always stick up for Jack, whether I knew him 
 to be right or wrong, because I like him and always have 
 liked him very much, but others will not do the same, and 
 
THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER 
 
 4S 
 
 people round here have 'ong tongues and are not more 
 good-natured or less inclined to invent and embellish gossip- 
 ing stories than in other places. However," drawing a long 
 breath, " it's off my conscience now ; you may put all I have 
 said down to jealousy if you like, I don't care, so long as 
 you only act upon it. Shall we change the subject? " 
 
 " Is she spoony on Jack or not ? " was the thought that 
 flashed through Lifton's mind as Nellie concluded her 
 tirade ; "but whether she be or no there is plenty of sense in 
 what she says," so he answered at once : " I'm afraid, Miss 
 Watson, I have not much influence with him ; but if you 
 really think there is anything between him and that young 
 woman at the mill, I'll try to get him to drop her. Yes, let's 
 change the subject. Have you seen Miss Triscott's 
 brother since he returned — he is an old friend of yours, I 
 believe ? " 
 
 " Say rather a friend of Mollie's. Mollie ! " calling 
 out to her sister, who was quietly sketching on a rock 
 close by, " Mollie, you know George Triscott, don't you ? " 
 
 The only reply was a heap of turf and heather which, 
 intended for Nellie, smote Lifton heavily on the back of the 
 neck. After the merriment caused by this mishap, which 
 brought them all to their legs, they strolled in the direction 
 of home, where they arrived in about an hour, to find 
 George Triscott himself awaiting them. 
 
 ** Talk of a certain person," said Nellie, " and his tail 
 comes round the corner. Well, George, here's Mollie been 
 doing nothing but talk about you all the afternoon ; " at 
 which sally they all laughed merrily except Lifton, who 
 became silent and rather glum for the rest of the evening. 
 
 They were joined at high tea by Jack Treleaven, who ap- 
 peared, as Nellie had prophesied, without a single fish, giving 
 
 I 
 
 
 il 
 
 I 
 
44 
 
 ADA TR/SCOTT 
 
 the usual excuses of too much sun or too little wind, or both 
 or neither, but to the surprise of both Jack and " Bung " 
 she did not indulge in one word of chaff on the subject, 
 although as boisterous as usual on other topics. 
 
 The three men went home together by train to Devon- 
 port. It was a quiet journey, as each of the trio had 
 enough to occupy himself in his own thoughts. 
 
 Some days after this, Hemmings and Treleaven were 
 going out fishing together. Although so different in every 
 way, they were good friends enough, and had one bond of 
 union between them in their mutual love of fishing. They 
 had been walking silently along for some moments, when 
 said Hemmings, apparently resuming a conversation that 
 they had been carrying on before : 
 
 " Well, Treleaven, I believe you, and I'll take your bet 
 — a sovereign, is it? Now, to show that she really has 
 nothing to do with your fishing so often, you're to kill more 
 fish than I do in a week, and that without coming within a 
 mile of the mill. I warn you, though, that, if I meet her 
 going up to you with luncheon, as I have been confidently 
 assured she frequently does, I shall consider you have lost. 
 However, I suppose you will write her a note and tell her 
 she is not to have the pleasure of your company for seven 
 long days. Dear me, I pity you 1 " 
 
 "I'm sure I shall do nothing of the sort," said Jack, 
 testily; "and, to show you how little I care about her, I 
 will make the bet for a fortnight instead of a week, if you 
 like. She's a pretty little tiling, superior to most girls in 
 her class. I like to stop and chaff with her for a few 
 minutes now and then, nothing more, and I don't see that 
 that hurts any one ; " and Jack looked rather haughty. 
 
 "Ah 1" persisted Hemmings, "I am glad to hear she is 
 
THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER 
 
 45 
 
 rot so very captivating after all, as I suppose I shall see her 
 every day down there. A fortnight, then, and what do you 
 say if we double the money? You see, I feel sure you have 
 overrated your powers of resisting such sweet loveliness. I 
 expect I shall find you coming at the end of the week to 
 tell me that you wish to pay your bet at once, as there isn't 
 a fish in the river. Ha, ha, ha ! We shall soon see if she 
 isn't worth more than two pounds to you." 
 
 " Let those laugh who win," said Jack ; " you're an ass 
 to want to double the money. I consider it as good as in 
 
 > 
 
 my jjocket already. It is like betting on a certainty." 
 
 "I don't much care if it is a certainty," said Hemmings 
 to himself " I don't see why Treleaven should monopolise 
 every pretty woman in the place I take an interest in. 
 Little witch ! She declares she doesn't care a bit about 
 him, and hardly ever sees him. ' All men are liars,' and all 
 women too; I would not trust either of them farther than I 
 can see them. At any rate, I suppose he'll leave the coast 
 clear for a bit now." 
 
 The pair of fishermen now separated to walk to their 
 respective parts of the river which lay across the Down in 
 different directions. We will follow Hemmings, and see 
 how his fishing gets on. He had not been at work for more 
 than half an hour on a lovely part of the Tavy, where it runs 
 through a wood, sloping down a steep incline on each hank. 
 Suddenly there was a splash right in front of him, and in 
 the region of his flies. Although it was hardly like the rise 
 of a fish, unless that of a very large one, the angler struck 
 heavily on seeing it, and struck all the harder that he was 
 somewhat surprised at its suddenness. His line, however, 
 meeting with no resistance, the only result was that he 
 landed his cast of flies into a bush on the bank, well above 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
fin 
 
 III! 
 
 i: m 
 
 ! 1' 
 
 I ill 
 
 l!ii 
 
 [ 
 
 i 
 
 Ij 
 
 a6 
 
 ADA TRI SCOTT 
 
 his head, for he was wading the stream. This necessitated 
 his getting out of the water, a matter of some difficulty in 
 waterproof waders, as the bank was very steep, and about 
 ten minutes or a quarter of an hour's delay in disentangling 
 the cast from the bush, and the flies from each other, for 
 the gut cast had tied itself up into one of those abominable 
 tangles, the misery of undoing which none but an angler 
 can appreciate. Captain Hemmings accompanied the whole 
 operation with muttered nautical expletives against the fish, 
 the bush, and the flies. 
 
 When all was clear, he made a fresh cast over the big 
 fish that had missed his fly, as he thought, the first time. 
 V/hen, lo ! another trer lendous rise ! This was so evidently 
 caused by a stone, that Hemmings turned round angrily, 
 with a very naughty word on his "ps. But his anger turned 
 into a laugh, though rather a laugh of vexation, as he saw 
 peering out from behind a tree a pretty little red bonnet, 
 and a very pretty face beneath it, while he was greeted with 
 a merry laugh and " Good afternoon. Captain Hemmings. 
 Didn't you rise a regular whale just now? The noise he 
 made quite frightened me." 
 
 " Confound you ! you little monkey. I had no idea that it 
 was you that was making such a fool of me, and you have been 
 calmly watching me undoing your handiwork, and never even 
 offered to help me. I'll pay you off when I get out." 
 
 He had scrambled up the bank and was standing beside 
 her. 
 
 " Now then, young lady, you must give me a kiss." 
 
 But Laura Luscombe — for of course it was she — looked 
 frightened, and said, hiding her face in her hands : 
 
 " Oh ! no, no ! Captain Hemmings, please don't ! I 
 couldn't indeed—don't ask me." 
 
THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER 
 
 47 
 
 nri 
 
 He took b's arm from round her waist as she spoke, but 
 the look of sinister determination in his face was not 
 pleasant to see. Laura was in appearance no countrified 
 girl; like all Devonshire girls of her class, she had llie 
 knack of drestJng herself well and neatly, and many a lady 
 would have looked less ladylike than did the miller's daughter 
 at this moment. 
 
 She recovered herself quickly, and, looking archly up at 
 the sailor, said : 
 
 " Now, Captain Hemmings, you must forgive me." 
 
 " Well ! come and sit down here, and I'll tell you all 
 about that presently. It's too hot to go on fishing. I 
 suppose you were strolling up to see Mr. Treleaven? but he 
 isn't fishing down here to-day." 
 
 " What nonsense ! " replied Laura. " You know I don't 
 care about Mr. Treleaven when you're here. He's well 
 enough to talk to when you're away, and to make life more 
 bearable in this slow old place." 
 
 " i m afraid you are a horrid little flirt, Laura ! I'll 
 forgive you this once though, as you look so pretty this 
 afternoon." 
 
 She felt pleased, and, looking up blushingly at her 
 companion, said : 
 
 " I'm so glad you think I look nice ; and you know it 
 isn't on Mi. Treleaven's account, or that of any of the other 
 gentlemen whom I liieet up at father's place, when they 
 come here fishing, that I wish to do so, don't you ? Am I 
 as pretty as Miss Triscott ? Horrid thing ! I hate her ! " 
 and a very black look came over Misj Luscombe's lovely, 
 but, at this moment, determined little face. 
 
 " Why do you ask me, and not Mr. Treleaven ? " said 
 Hemmings ; " and why should you hate that young lady 
 
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4S 
 
 ADA TRI SCOTT 
 
 f i 
 
 \\' 
 
 tniu i 
 
 and abuse her when you know her to be a friend of 
 mine ? " 
 
 " I ask you because William Fox, who is a very old 
 friend of ours, and who was out to see father the other day, 
 told us he believed you were engaged to be married to her ; 
 now perhaps you can guess why I hate her ? " 
 
 " Confound that man Fox ! " said Hammings, angrily. 
 " I never liked him ; he was always shoving in his oar when 
 he was not wanted. Why can't he mind his own business?" 
 
 ** It's no use your abusing William Fox," said Laura, 
 " for I may as well tell you at once, I think him a very good 
 fellow. It would have been far better for me, had I 
 married him before he went to sea last time. He wanted 
 me to do so, and, although he is only a blue-jacket, he is 
 well-born, and would, had I married him, have taken pains 
 to get on, and :iOw probably have been a warrant officer. 
 But I was too much of a lady — and now, what good has it 
 done me, or is it likely to do him ? " said she, sorrowfully. 
 " I am only discontented and always wishing I was, what I 
 can never be — a lady. It is true, you tell me, and I know 
 myself I have the perceptions and feelings of one — that's 
 all the good that cornes of going to a superior school and 
 being educated above your station. Now, when I meet that 
 proud Miss Watson, who looks at me so superciliously if 
 she sees me speaking to a gentleman, I often feel I have as 
 good a right to be in their society as she has, and better. 
 I'm sure I have not her loud, boisterous ways. Because 
 she was born a lady, people call her vulgarities eccentricities ; 
 whereas, if I spoke and acted so, they would only be called 
 by their proper name. It makes me angry too that, if she 
 came down the slope now, while I am talking to you, you 
 would be anxious to move away from me and pretend it was 
 
THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER 
 
 49 
 
 only an accidental meeting ; and if it was Miss Triscott 
 who was to appear, you would positively fly. Oh, Richard, 
 it is very, very hard ! " and the poor little girl began to sob 
 bitterly. " It is no wonder " (sob) " that I take every 
 opportunity of being seen with Mr. Treleaven " (sob) " or 
 any other gentleman on purpose to '* (sob) '* spite them for 
 despising me " (sob), "a poor, wretched girl with feelings as 
 keen as any of them." 
 
 Poor Laura ! she was fairly overcome. She was, as she 
 had said, a well-brought-up and an educated girl, and one 
 of extreme sensitiveness, and it was indeed sometimes very 
 hard for her. It would have been far better for her had 
 she been left in her own sphere, and not sent by her father 
 to one of those expensive schools where so many good girls 
 of her class have been spoiled. Ay, and it would have been 
 better for her now to be lying cold in her grave than sitting 
 as she is, with her head on Richard Hemmings' shoulder, 
 while he passionately kisses away the tears that are coursing 
 down her burning cheeks. 
 
 And so occupied, we must leave them for the present 
 
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 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A PICNIC AND A PROPOSAL. 
 
 BOUT this time the Triscotts talked of going for 
 their long-deferred visit to North Devon. 
 Before going, however, they determined to 
 give a large picnic, as a source of pleasure to 
 themselves and their numerous friends in the " three towns," 
 and also as a good way for William Triscott to pay off all 
 the civilities his niece had received during the summer 
 months. It would save him, too, the racket of a dance 
 which had, at first, been proposed \ / George, but rejected 
 because the hoase was not half big enough to hold all those 
 who should be asked. This forthcoming picnic was the 
 talk of the place. It was to be the picnic of the year, and 
 William Triscott himself, as well as his nephew and niece, 
 were determined to make it a success. 
 
 The morning broke bright and sunny, and when the 
 different parties arrived at Shaugh Bridge, in the Bickleigh 
 Vale, the lovely scenery round that well-known spot was 
 looking at its best. Situated below the juncture of the two 
 streams Cad and Meavy, which united form the River Plym, 
 there can no better spot be found for a picnic. A nice, 
 grassy glade under fine old oaks on the river's brink was 
 chosen as the place for the repast, which, it is needless to 
 state, was ot tne must excellent and lavish description, for 
 
 4 :' 
 
A PICNIC AND A PROPOSAL 
 
 51 
 
 William Triscott was not the man to do things by halves. 
 The champagne was therefore of the best, the ice sufficient, 
 the solids abundant and dainty, and the fruit fresh and 
 delicious. 
 
 Some people seem to think that a necessary part of the 
 fun of a picnic is the being obliged to use the same plate 
 for every description of food, and of having to share a knife 
 and fork with some one else. Generally it will, however, 
 be found that this implies a certain amount of discomfort 
 for everybody. No sane person can possibly imagine that 
 raspberry-tart tastes the better for beiiig flavoured with 
 pat^ de foie gras, and great indeed must the friend be with 
 whom one would care to share knife and fork if others were 
 available. On this occasion, we are happy to be able to 
 chronicle, everything was available, therefore those — and 
 let us hope chey were few — who care for the species of fun 
 aforesaid were mostly disappointed. Not all, however ; for 
 there was one of the last-joined subalterns of the Royal 
 Marines observed seated under a bush " apart," eating very 
 gravely off the corner of the plate of a goddess about double 
 his own age and v/eight. 
 
 He was afraid to speak to her, but he was pleased with 
 her condescension, and was happy. She was happy too, 
 for it was evident that her reign of conquest was not yet 
 over j and, since they were both pleased, why need any 
 one else complain? Nay, rather let us envy them their 
 solitary plate and their united happiness ! 
 
 After the feast, which was not solely one of reason, and 
 the flow of a good deal besides soul, the party divided, and, in 
 groups or pairs, wandered off in different directions. There 
 was every description of ground to ramble over : moorland, 
 wood, hill, mountain, or the rocky sides of the stream. 
 
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 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
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 The elder members of the party did not go far, for it 
 was not a day for strict chaperonage, and they preferred to 
 stay near the adjacent cottage, where tea was to be served 
 in a couple of hours' time. They were the more wise in 
 this, as some .ather ominous-looking clouds were beginning 
 to collect — greater age, it is to be concluded in this instance, 
 brought greater wisdom. But the clouds did not prevent 
 any of the officers of both services, or the young ladies, 
 from starting at once whither they listed ; for in Devonshire 
 every one is prepared for rain at the most likely and un- 
 likely times. Talk about rain in Ireland! For a good 
 "rainy season," where you will find more showers in a 
 weeic than other places can produce in a month, go to 
 Plymouth I 
 
 Some members of the party settled to visit the " Dewah 
 Stone," which crowns a steep, rocky hill at the base of which 
 runs the river, and from whence the best view of the 
 surrounding country is to be obtained. To visit this 
 eminence, it is necessary to cross the River Cad at its 
 juncture with the Meavy. 
 
 All started together, and much fun was caused by the 
 manoeuvring required to cross the stepping-stones, which feat 
 was at length accomplished by the greater number. Once 
 across the stream, those who had contrived to get wet feet, 
 found it absolutely necessary to walk much quicker in order 
 to dry them. As there are endless roads, through the 
 bushes, briars, and rocks, which are supposed to lead to the 
 Dewah Stone, and as each one chose a different route, soon 
 of all those who had crossed the river scarcely more than 
 two were left together. There was, however, one group of 
 three ; for, although Captain Hemmings had attached him- 
 self to Ada, she had asked her brother to stay with them. 
 

 A P/CN/C AND A PROPOSAK 
 
 S3 
 
 and was de^ernnned that they three should actually accom- 
 plish the ascent. 
 
 George did not know his sister's reason for asking him 
 to come with her and Hemmings, but, Mollie Watson 
 having disappeared with some one else, he felt too lazy 
 this hot afternoon to commence a fresh flirtation with any 
 of the young ladies not already provided with partners, and 
 saying to himself : " Well, I suppose Ada knows what she 
 is about, and would not have asked me if she had not 
 wanted me," he joined her and Hemmings, and they started. 
 What the gallant commander thought of the arrangement 
 remains a secret ; for he made no remark, and his face was 
 a perfect mask. 
 
 Among the first to cross the stepping-stones were Nellie 
 Watson and Jack Treleaven. Nellie was looking at her 
 very best to-day; in the highest spirits and apparently 
 thoroughly pleased with herself. Jack, and every one else. 
 Her cheeks were fresh as her own moorland air, and her 
 bright btown eyes, sparkling and roving over everything 
 and everybody, did not lose the very smallest detail, either 
 ludicrous or sentimental ; from the youthtul marine casting 
 " sheep's eyes " at his elderly inamorata, to the fat major 
 who had surrounded himself, in a nice shady spot, with 
 every comfort, ostensibly for the delectation of the slim, 
 frightened little girl at his side, whom he will mystify by- 
 and-by with one or two of his highly flavoured old Indian 
 stories 1 Never a great stickler for Us convenances, Nellie 
 had been the moving spirit to start the rambling after 
 lunch ; saying to Jack, " Let us give the young people a 
 chance, Mrs. Grundy has always been my natural enemy, 
 and I never feel so exhilarated as when I know I am giving 
 her a sell. Now, Jack, you don't think, do you, that any 
 
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 iv 
 
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 ADA TRISLOTT 
 
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 chaperon would ever be tough enough to want to cross 
 those stepping-stones, and take that walk afterwards ? " 
 
 Jack having reassured her as well as he could upon this 
 point, they set off together. 
 
 Although Ada knew of the sort of platonic friendship 
 between Jack and Nellie, it was not without a little twinge 
 of jealousy that she watched that volatile young lady and 
 the man she loved disappear among the trees at the other 
 side of the river. She would not perhaps have minded had 
 it been at any other time, and if Nellie had not been 
 looking so very well; but to-day, her last day before 
 leaving for a time, she thought he might have come to walk 
 with her. 
 
 Poor Ada ! she had not half the knowledge of mankind 
 her older Tiiend Miss Watson had ; she was far too con- 
 fiding and soft-hearted. She could hear them laughing 
 merrily after she had lost sight of them, and it was evident 
 they intended enjoying themselves to the uttermost this 
 pleasant afternoon. Ada and her companions went steadily 
 on towards the summit, but they had not got more than 
 half-way up when it began to rain. As she had an umbrella, 
 and the rain was not very heavy, she continued to climb, 
 but Hemmings; full of gallantry, and perhaps tired of being 
 a troiSy said he would return for her waterproof and meet 
 her a?? she came down. So George and his sister went on 
 alone, in spiie of the rain which came dovn heavier and 
 more rapidly every minute. He, sailor-like, had come pre- 
 pared for all emergencies, and when they alone, of all those 
 who had started ^ith a similar ipte-^.ion, had reached the 
 summit, he wrapped himself and his sister in his large 
 waterproof, and for a while they waited hoping for an 
 improvement in ihc weather. 
 
 |i| 
 
 i V 
 
 ^^ fi; 
 
^"'J 
 
 A PICNIC AND A PROPOSAL 
 
 S5 
 
 Let us see now how the others fared. They had nearly 
 all hurried back when the rain commenced, and recrossed 
 the stepping-stones ; and well for them that they did so, for 
 the water in the Cad was rising, the rain having been much 
 heavier higher on the moor. Once back at Shaugh Bridge, 
 there was plenty of shelter in the cottage and elsewhere. 
 Jack and Nellie were not among those who returned. At 
 first they continued to struggle upwards, but, having hit 
 upon one of the most circuitous paths, they did not seem to 
 make much progress towards the Dewah Stone, and, the 
 rain getting worse, they resolved to return ; but by the time 
 they reached the stream they found the) had delayed too 
 long, for the water was rushing fast over the stepping-stones. 
 There was a little clam or wooden foot-bridge close by, but 
 the door on that they found locked. There was nothing for 
 it but to remain as they were on the far side of the stream. 
 
 " Here's a pretty kettle of fish," said Nellie, helplessly 
 shaking the little aoor. " Shall we have to stay here all 
 night, I wonder? Oh, dear! oh, dear! think of the nice 
 hot tea they are all having at the cottage now. Jack, can't 
 you suggest something ? " But Jack could (vnly gaze hope- 
 lessly at the muddy stream, whirling and eddying higher 
 every moment over the stepping-stones, and beg of Nellie 
 to stand closer under the small umbrella, which was 
 beginning to make dirty little streams down her smart blue 
 dress. " If this goes on much longer I shall cry, I know I 
 shall ; there is a limit to human endurance." She went on : 
 " Hurrah, I have it ! How very stupid of me not to think 
 of it before ; " for her knowledge of the locality had sud- 
 denly come to her assistance, and she remembered a sort of 
 little cave or hollow in the rocks, quite close to where they 
 were standing, in which she and her playfellows had been 
 
 
 k' ^'i 
 
56 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 
 wont to make fires as children. They hurried to the place; 
 a large tree stood just before the entrance, effectually hiding 
 it from those who were not aware of its existence. Once in 
 this dry retreat, the pair recovered their spirits, and became 
 quite cheerful again. There was just room for both to sit 
 down, and they could hear the rain pattering on the leaves 
 of the large oak that guarded the entrance. While them- 
 selves dry and comfortable, they wondered if any of the 
 rest of the party were still out in the wet ; if so, they were 
 probably getting but small shelter under trees or bushes. 
 And this thought — such is human nature — made them feel 
 so comfortable in their snug little retreat that they waxed 
 more chatty and confidential than ever. Jack felt an occa- 
 sional qualm when he thought of the rising river and of 
 Ada, to whom he had intended devoting himself for the 
 rest of the evening, and he did once propose making an 
 attempt to ford the stream, but Nellie stoutly refused to 
 " risk her life," as she said, by being carried across, so he 
 had to dismiss all thoughts of getting back for the present. 
 
 In the meantime, George and Ada, tired of being rained 
 upon at the top of the hill, commenced their descent; 
 Hemmings did not turn up with the waterproof at the spot 
 agreed upon ; they therefore went on, as Ada and Jack had 
 done, only to find the stream impassable. The rain was 
 still descending in torrents, and they retraced their steps to 
 try to find some kind of shelter. As luck would have it, 
 they came across the large oak which hid the mouth of the 
 grotto where Jack Treleaven and Miss Watson were seated. 
 The noise of the rain on the leaves prevented the occupants 
 from hearing them approach, and the first idea they had 
 themselves that there was any one within half a mile of them 
 was the sound of voices. They could distinctly hear the 
 
A PICNIC AND A PROPOSAL 
 
 57 
 
 tones of the speaker, and at the first word Ada laid her 
 hand upon her brother's arm to impress silence. 
 
 Jack was speaking in impassioned tones, and as follows : 
 
 *' Dearest Nellie, I have loved you for months past 
 without daring to breathe a syllable of it. If the devotion 
 of a lifetime is worthy to be laid at your feet, accept it 
 from me, and become my wife." 
 
 Ada did not wait to hear another word, but clutching 
 her brother by the arm dragged him away. He looked in 
 astonishment at her face, white more with i)assion than 
 grief, and was about to ask her what had hapi>encd ; but, 
 turning her ashy face to him, she implored him not to ask 
 her anything now. And she hurried him on towards the 
 river. 
 
 The rain was stopping, and bright blue patches appeared 
 between the ragged clouds. The man who kept the key of 
 the " clam," guessing that the river would be swollen, had 
 arrived upon the scene, and all the party were soon safe 
 back at the cottage where tea was ready ; Jack and Nellie 
 being the last to get back. Ada kept up a gay appearance, 
 helping to pour out tea, and doing the honours as hostess, 
 talking to every one, and making George look after the 
 chaperons; but inwardly her heart was raging tem- 
 pestuously. She managed skilfully to avoid Jack and 
 Nellie until quite the end of the evening, when the former 
 at last found her sitting alone in a window-seat, and took 
 the vacant place beside her. The blood rushed to her pale 
 cheeks as he asked, in the old, lowered tones, " If she 
 was tired, and if the day had not been rather long for 
 her ? " But she steadied her voice with an effort, and 
 replied, drily : 
 
 " No, it had not been too long, and she had enjoyed it." 
 
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58 
 
 ADA T/^ /SCOTT 
 
 But when he asked her if he might come and see her 
 once again before her departure, she said, in a hard, con- 
 strained voice : 
 
 " No, I shall not have time to see you, and I should 
 prefer your not calling ; " and getting up she walked into 
 the next room, where George was struggling to force a 
 stout matron into an ulster which evidently did not belong 
 to her. 
 
 Utterly at a loss to understand this very sudden change 
 in one whom he had believed to be entirely devoted to 
 him, Jack retired, much discomfited and crestfallen, to 
 ask the advice of his friend " Bung." That wise man, not 
 knowing all the circumstances of the case, was quite unable 
 to offer any of a satisfactory kind, and Jack turned from 
 him in disgust. 
 
 Nellie Watson also, when she came to say good-bye, 
 and thank her for a pleasant day, was surprised at the 
 coldness of her manner. She put it down to her friend's 
 being quite tired out, and perhaps out of temper at the 
 rain having come to spoil the otherwise successful picnic. 
 
 No words can describe Ada's misery for the next few 
 days, but she was too proud to shut herself up, and weep 
 over Jack's heartless conduct. 
 
 *' No," she said to herself, " he is not worth a second 
 thought ; " and she indulged in an amount of flirtation with 
 Captain Hemmings during those days that quite astonished 
 him. Still Hemmings was not deceived altogether by this 
 forced hilarity, for he had not been all over the world, 
 seeing people and places of every sort and kind, without 
 gaining a considerable knowledge of the human mind. 
 Hemmings also, although a good-looking fellow and a man 
 rather inclined to an overbearing manner to those of his 
 
A PICNIC ASD A PROPOSAL 
 
 S9 
 
 own sex, was not without a certain amount of modesty with 
 ladies ; he was not inclined to overrate his own powers of 
 captivation, and was far too cautious to make a false move 
 where he might meet with repulse from being over-pre- 
 cipitate. He therefore remained courteous and friendly 
 with Ada, but was not empresse enough in his manner to 
 excite remark. 
 
 George had never questioned his sister, but he had 
 sufficient penetration to find out her secret. He was angry 
 at what he considered Treleaven's deception, and, when 
 next he met him, gave him a cool nod and passed on. 
 Nevertheless, such is the contradictoriness of the feminine 
 nature that when George liad made some sneering remarks 
 about him afterwards, A.da turned upon her brother 
 furiously, and would not hear a word against her defaulting 
 lover. 
 
 Notwithstanding Ada's having desired him, on the even- 
 ing of the picnic, not to call again at Tamar Terrace, Jack 
 resolved to see her before she left, and have some kind of 
 explanation. Imagine his mortification, then, although he 
 had seen the top of her head by the window where she 
 usually sat to read or work, when the servant simply said, in 
 reply to his inquiry, those three cabalistic words, " Not at 
 home," Virhich have rung the death-knell to many an aspiring 
 lover's heart. The pleasure of his feelings was not increased 
 by the fact that he could distinctly hear the tones of 
 Hemmings' voice, as he turned angrily away, more per- 
 plexed than ever by this last discomfiture. 
 
 There was another person who could not understand 
 the turn events had taken, and this was Mr. Triscott. 
 Liking Jack as he did, he regretted the coolness which had 
 taken place between his nephew and niece and the young 
 
 ii 
 
 4'! 
 
6o 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 soldier. He had wished Ada to ask the latter to dinner, 
 but she had, to his astonishment, refused to do so. Noticing 
 her flaming cheeks and confused manner, he said : 
 
 "Why, Ada, my child, what's the matter? Have you 
 and Treleaven been having a tiff? There's nothing serious, 
 I hope, for I like the lad." 
 
 But, getting no answer, he went away, softly whistling 
 to himself, and wondering vaguely what had occuried. Ada, 
 now that she had of her own free will given up this last 
 chance of seeing Jack, went, as soon as Hemmings was 
 gone, to her own loom and burst into a flood of tears. As 
 she sat there weeping, she heard the bugle sound of the 
 " dress " for mess over in the barracks. This only made 
 matters worse, for well she remembered how full many a 
 time that bugle sound had been but a prelude to his step 
 upon the stair, and his cheery voice in the dvawing-room. 
 She thought of his manly form and blight smiling face as 
 they had often appeared to her on such occasions ; and now 
 it was all over — he was another's. Had she not herself 
 heard him ask that other to be his wife in terms of fondest 
 affection? This too he had done knowing full well how 
 dearly she herself had loved him. 
 
 "Oh, Jack, Jack," she cried, in her anguish, "how could 
 you be so cruel ? What have I done to deserve it ? " and 
 the tears that flowed so freely, brought no relief, no hope. 
 
 Everything, henceforth, was to be a blank. She felt, if 
 only he would return to her, how gladly she would forgive 
 him. She had taken out his photograph intending to tear 
 it up, but found herself gazing fondly and wistfully upon it. 
 A thousand wild ideas came into her head ; she thought she 
 would write and reproach him for his perfidy, or else perhaps 
 ask him to come and see her once more] but both, she 
 
A PICNIC AND A PROPOSAL 
 
 6i 
 
 quickly felt, were equally impossible, equally incompatible 
 with her maidenly dignity. She was very weak and she 
 knew it, but she was incapable of lowering herself by making 
 any advances of this sort. 
 
 Gentle reader, pity, do not condemn her for her momen- 
 tary weakness ! Remember she had lost her first love, 
 whom she had loved with all the strength and idolatry of 
 her warm, trusting heart, and in one summer's day her idol 
 had fallen with a crash and been shattered 
 
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 CHAPTER IX 
 
 CHUMS AND SKETCHES. 
 
 SiME ran on, and the Triscotts left Tamar 
 Terrace. Ada had not again seen Jack except 
 once in the distance, and she departed to 
 North Devon sick at heart, and endlessly 
 reproaching herself with not having given Jack a last 
 opportunity of explaining his strange behaviour, or at least 
 of bidding her farewell. So, to the moment that the train 
 started out of the station, she had clung to the hope that 
 she might perhaps meet him accidentally, and, had she done 
 so, had fully determined on having an explanation of some 
 kind. 
 
 On the day of her departure she had taken particular 
 care to be early at the railway-station, for, somehow, she 
 had a kind of hope that Jack might be there once more to 
 endeavour to bid her good-bye. As she had told Captain 
 Lifton only the day previously of the train they were to go 
 by, she knew Jack must have learned it from him. Her 
 hopes were, however, as she knew they must be, fruitless ; 
 and ihe entered the train more unhappy and despairing 
 than before. 
 
 Could she have seen the delinquent at that moment she 
 might not have been so entirely heart-broken and wretched. 
 He was standing in the window of Lifton's quarters with 
 
CHUMS AND SKETCHES 
 
 63 
 
 go 
 [er 
 
 Bs; 
 »g 
 
 Ihe 
 
 cd. 
 th 
 
 his eye to a telescope, watching the station for the smoke of 
 the train that was to bear her away. Presently it was seen 
 issuing in white puffs which he followed intently, until it 
 entered the North Road Station, whence it re-issued, after 
 the lapse of a minute, and was lost to sight again almost 
 immediately. He turned from the window, shutting up the 
 glass with a bang, which called forth the following remon- 
 strance from his friend : 
 
 "I say, old fellow, I don't see that, because you have 
 been making an ass of yourself, and won't have quite as 
 many opportunities of doing so for the next month, you need 
 on that account break my glass. It's ungrateful, too, when 
 you've been able to see the smoke so nicely through it 1 " 
 
 " D n the smoke and you too, you Job's comforter ! " 
 
 said Jack, fiercely, leaving the room, and banging the door 
 after him. 
 
 And perhaps it was as well for him that he did leave the 
 room after this little ebullition of temper, for he had just 
 done one of the few things calculated to make his chum 
 lose his. To treat his telescope like that ! His telescope, 
 the best, of course, that ever was made, and from which he 
 was as inseparable as a sailor. This was, indeed, wounding 
 " Bung " in his tenderest feelings. He bounded across the 
 room after it, for once really angry. Luckily, however, the 
 precious spy-glass, after having struck the wall, had fallen 
 on the bed, and was discovered, after half an hour's unscrew- 
 ing of joints and rubbing of lenses, to be entirely free from 
 injury. 
 
 B> this time " Bung " also had recovered his equanimity, 
 and, s ■>liloquising, acknowledged to hiinselt that it wasraiiittr 
 rough on Jack "to have made that remark about the smoKC," 
 but, he added to himself : 
 
 
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 64 
 
 ^/;/i TR I SCOTT 
 
 *' It is none the less true that Jnck is an ass, and ought 
 to be contented with one girl at a time, instead of getting 
 himself into difficulties with two or three, as I always told 
 him. I should like to know, though, what really is up 
 between him and the fair Ada. It's all nonsense his pre- 
 tending not to know what he has done to annoy her. But 
 it's no business of mine, and I won't worry the old chappie 
 with questions until he likes to tell me all about it. Still, he 
 wouldn't be my 'chum' if I didn't think of him and his 
 scrapes a little, and, if I don't know what's the matter, how 
 can I help him ? I wonder if he's been proposing to both 
 girls at once, and if they've told each other ? " 
 
 This idea appeared to the discreet captain as so utterly 
 ludicrous that, laughing silently behind his pipe, he swallowed 
 a puff of smoke which nearly choked him. He had just 
 recovered from this accident when Jack returned, looking 
 very contrite, and saying he " hoped the telescope was not 
 damaged."' A bhake of the hand, and all was as usual 
 between these two; for, whether a quarrel be a little or a 
 big one, it is always far easier made up between two men 
 than between two persons of the opposite sex. In the latter 
 case, there is frequently so much preparatory parleying 
 required before my lady chooses to show signs of an in- 
 clination to be mollified, that very likely the whole thing 
 commences all over again. 
 
 Jack sat down looking subdued and gloomy, and took 
 refuge in a pipe also, and the pair of them, having apparently 
 nothing to say to each other, puffed away for some time in 
 silence, each occupied with his own thoughts. 
 
 "Bung's" countenance, though still rather inflamed from 
 his recent choking fit, had now assumed a sympathetic 
 expression, which, whether indicating his true feelings or 
 
» 
 
 CHUMS AND SKETCHES 
 
 >g 
 
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 65 
 
 not, helped somewhat to soothe Jack's perturbed spirits. 
 Presently Lifton broke the silence by asking : 
 
 " What are you going to do this afternoon, Jack — 
 Horrabridge ? " 
 
 **Yes, I suppose so," gloomily, from Jack, 
 
 "Fishing?" 
 
 " No — water too low.* 
 
 "Watsons'?" 
 
 Jack nodded gloomily over his pipe. 
 
 " I'll come with you, then, if you'll get out of uniform at 
 once ; we can catch the next train, as Miss Watson promised 
 to show me a lovely view for a sketch from the Sheep Tor, 
 and I think we might have time to reach it to-day if we 
 start at once. The walk will do you good, old man, in your 
 present depressed condition. If any one can cheer you up, 
 I'm sure it's your friend Miss Watson. It's hardly worth 
 while my reminding you that, ' Quand on n'a pas ce qu'on 
 aime, il faut aimer ce qu'on a;' indeed, she may be the real 
 object of your adoration, for anything I know to the con- 
 trary. But of one thing I am convinced, and that is, that 
 if any one can rouse your drooping spirits, Miss Watson will, 
 or else you'll have a battle royal, which will answer the 
 purpose quite as well ; so hurry up, ' old sonny,' if you're 
 going ' up along.' " 
 
 " I believe you're right," said Jack. " Nellie is a dear, 
 good girl, and can never be valued too highly, in spite of 
 her whimsicalities. I do think a downright good row with 
 her would do me good to-day, and I should not wonder if 
 we had it, too ; " and, laughing for the first time that morn- 
 ing. Jack hastened to his quarters to dress, calling out to 
 " Bung," " not to forget the telescope for the view fr( tn 
 Sheep Tor." Although this was meant in chaff, the hint 
 
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66 
 
 ADA TRI SCOTT 
 
 I! 
 
 was taken in earnest, and, when they started, the precious 
 instrument, which had so narrowly escaped destruction, was 
 under Lifton's arm. 
 
 Arrived at Moor Lodge, they found both young ladies 
 hard at work painting. Mollie, neat and smiling as usual, 
 welcomed them heartily, but Nellie continued working 
 vigorously at her easel, pretending not to have heard them 
 come into the room. She raised her head at last, and held 
 out her hand first to one and then to the other, saying 
 tragically, as she did so : " You've done it, I knew you 
 would!" 
 
 " Done what ? " said Jack, alarmed. 
 
 " Done M'hat, indeed ! Why, you have just dashed all 
 my budding hopes of fame to the ground by coming into the 
 room — without even coughing at the door — exactly at the 
 wrong moment ; just when I had an inspiration, and had 
 commenced a work which would very likely have made my 
 name famous," 
 
 Lifton, never quite understanding her moods, or when 
 she was in earnest, began to apologise. However, as she 
 did not seem to notice him, but kept on frowning heavily at 
 Jack, he crept quietly into the background with Mollie. 
 
 "Oh, is that all?" said Jack, relieved, for he really 
 thought for a moment that he had indeed been " putting his 
 foot into it." ** Well, let me see this work of genius ; and 
 if you like I'll order creaks in my boots before I come to see 
 you again, so that you can hear me half a mile off." 
 
 But Nellie was not to be pacified, she was evidently in a 
 quarrelsome humour, and when this topic was exhausted, 
 they began afresh upon another. Mollie and " Bung " from 
 the corner where they sat could not help h !;anng a little of 
 the fray, and they exchanged meaning glances when Ada 
 
CHUMS AND SKETCHES 
 
 «7 
 
 Triscott's name was mentioned, and when subsequently they 
 heard Nellie tell Jack in angry accents that " he ought to be 
 ashamed of himself." 
 
 A moment afterwards she bounced off her chair, cast a 
 look of withering scorn at Jack, and saying, " I don't intend 
 to stir from the house to-day," walked out of the room, 
 shutting — not to say banging — the door after her. 
 
 Jack gave a long whistle. Lifton looked perplexed, 
 and Mollie amused, and a rather awkward silence ensued, 
 which Lifton was the first to break. 
 
 " I am sorry, Miss Watson," said he, " that we should 
 have chosen such an unfortunate day for our visit. I think 
 we had better be off. We can either find our way to Sheep 
 Tor alone, and take advantage of this fine day for the view; 
 or," turning to Jack, " if you prefer it we can go back to 
 Plymouth by the next train." 
 
 " Pray don't do that, Captain Lifton. I see you don't 
 half understand my sister ; she will be back in a moment, 
 I dare say, and then we can arrange about the walk, if not 
 I shall go and look for her." 
 
 " I hope you will do nothing of the kind," said Jack, 
 haughtily ; " in Miss Watson's unenviable frame of mind, 
 I don't think she would be a very pleasant companion. 
 If you would like to go, let's go without her; I've had 
 enough of her temper for one day." 
 
 " Oh ! you have, have you ? " and though scarcely two 
 minutes had elapsed, Nellie herself entered fully attired for 
 walking. "Now, how long are you people going to keep 
 me waiting, I should like to know? Aren't we going to 
 Sheep Tor? Come, Jack, no sulks ! I forgive you for 
 having attacked me in such unmeasured terms — you all heard 
 him, didn't you ? It's no use his denying it. I've ordered 
 
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68 
 
 j4DA TRISCOTT 
 
 -\ ' \ 
 
 the sandwiches, and they'll be ready by the time yem have 
 your hat on, Molly ; so make haste." 
 
 "Trust Nellie to look after the grub," said JToUie as 
 she departed, leaving " Bung " and Jack to ar ver her 
 sister's voluble questions, or not, as they pleas'^d, ,;nc not 
 in the least surprised at her sister's sudden change < i mood. 
 When she returned she found the three the bee;*^ possible 
 friends, criticising Nellie'" picture which had been the 
 Oiiginai cause of their quarrel. 
 
 i i'armony thus thoroughly restored, they started to drive 
 as far ;.. they could up the wooded valley of the Meavy, 
 and to walk the rest of the way. When they had driven as 
 far as possible, Mollie proposed that the provisions "be 
 disposed of at once for fear Nellie should forget all about 
 them ! " and so after a little rough picnic the four set off 
 across the moor, the river being no obstacle tr day as it 
 had been the day of the picnic ; the weather having been 
 dry and warm now for some days. 
 
 Jack carried Nellie's sketch-book, and he and she 
 walked briskly on in front, while Lifton and Mollie trudged 
 along behind with many a good-natured, merry laugh from 
 the latter as she stumbled over the rocks and roots con- 
 cealed in the long heather. 
 
 Both girls looked particularly nice as they reached the 
 summit of Sheep's Tor, as Devonians frequently call it. 
 Nothing improves the personal appearance of young ladies, 
 with any pretensions to good looks, so much as a climb. 
 The exertion of the scramble heightens a good colour, or 
 gives one where it is wanting, the eyes seem to shine with 
 greater brilliancy, every contour of a pretty figure is shown 
 off to the best advantage, a neat little bit of red stocking 
 calling attention perhaps to a still neater ankle ; and when, 
 
CHUMS AND SKETCHES 
 
 69 
 
 the summit once reached, the cool, refreshing breeze plays 
 with a few escaped locks of silky hair, where is the 
 charming woman who does not look more charming still ? 
 
 Our discreet old friend, Captain Lifton, id long ueen as 
 an artist an admirer of the beauties ot nt ture. He now 
 found himself admiring the beauties of womanhood, as Nellie 
 and Mollie stood before him on the top of Sheep Tor. In a 
 minute Nellie had turned away, and with her back to the 
 rest, and her hand making a shade over her eyes, stood gazing 
 silently out over the beautiful stretch of country that lay 
 beneath them ; but Mollie — Lifton could not take his eyes 
 off her as she leanet' ag 'ast the rock smiling down at him. 
 He had always tho> ;ht r handsome, but he thought her 
 simply lovely to-d:;', •*:sd she certainly did look well with 
 her soft hair blov-n w. loose wavy locks about her face, and 
 her splendid c<. ii' .ion made richer and fairer by the 
 moorland breeze. He had also always liked her the better 
 of the two girls, for, though he considered Nellie clever and 
 amusing, he could never quite get over an uncomfortable 
 sensation of mistrust, when in her company, as to what she 
 might do or say next. Latterly he had seen a great deal of 
 the two girls, and Mollie's gentle, unselfish ways had grown 
 upon him. Almost unconsciously to himself, he had got to 
 think of her as a constant companion, and to wonder what 
 her opinion would be of his pain., ig and all other subjects 
 in which he was interested. To-day, out there on the moor 
 together, he had suddenly felt, with a sinking of the heart, 
 what a dull, lonely life his would again be if the regiment 
 were to be ordered off and he be separated for ever from 
 Mollie. At this point his reverie was interrupted by Nellie's 
 loud 'augh. 
 
 "What are you thinking of. Captain Lifton? Has 
 
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Jit 
 
 70 
 
 ADA TRLSCOTT 
 
 Mollie's back hair come off, or any of her buttons ? You 
 may not be aware of it, but you have been gazing at one 
 another fixedly for the last five minutes. Pardon me for 
 having interrupted you, but I could really stand it no 
 longer." 
 
 Lifton reddened all over his bronzed countenance, and 
 muttered something about " Been thinking." 
 
 "Yes," said Nellie, "you looked as if you were thinking ; 
 but I advise you not to think quite so hard for the future, 
 it's dangerous ; no ordinary brain could stand that sort of 
 thing!" 
 
 MoUie meanwhile had got Nellie's sketch-book from 
 Jack, and, telling her sister not to talk so much nonsense, 
 set both her and ** Bung " to work at their sketching ; she 
 and Jack made a comfortable nest for themselves in the 
 heather, tickling one another's necks with sprigs of heath, 
 under the pretence of " wasps," and behaving themselves 
 generally in the indecorous way in which intimate friends, 
 with nothing to do on a mountain-side of a warm day, are 
 wont to behave. MoUie's cheerful talk and laughter 
 seemed to have a capital effect on Jack Treleaven's spirits, 
 for all the homeward way he and Nellie chaffed one 
 another on the most amicable terms, without having any- 
 thing like a quarrel. As for " Bung," he did not say much, 
 but he looked very happy, and told Jack on his way back 
 to Plymouth that his sketch had been most successful. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 JACK GOES FISHING AND CATCHES A SALMON. 
 
 TIE days went on quietly enough for the several 
 characters in this story. Jack Treleaven, 
 whenever he could escape from his military 
 duties, went to Horrabridge, and fished nearly 
 every day until the season closed at the end of October, 
 d'-opping in from time to time at Moor Lodge on his way 
 to and from the river. Captain Hemmings also was to be 
 seen oftener on the platform of Horrabridge station, with 
 his rod in hand, than formerly, but somehow this gentleman 
 did not seem a very successful piscator, generally returning 
 without a single fish in his basket. The teasing he got 
 from the Miss Watsons, when they met him on any of 
 these occasions, he bore with great equanimity. He 
 readily admitted nov.% whenever comparisons were drawn, 
 that Jack was by far the better fisherman of the two ; 
 and attributed entirely to luck the fact that he had run 
 him pretty close in point of numbers of fish killed in the 
 earlier part of the year. They told him they thought him 
 very persevering ; but he replied that the fresh country air 
 agreed with him after the smell of salt-water, and as long as 
 he could enjoy that, and contemplate the beauties of nature 
 by land as well as by sea, he was happy — fish or no fish ! 
 To show them t'^a'. ^": wixs not sinuular in his ta^tp", and 
 
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72 
 
 ADA TJ^ I SCOTT 
 
 
 
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 I -ii! 
 
 i;l 1 
 
 that old Izaak Walton was two hundred yeara previously of 
 precisely the same oj)inion, he began one day to quote 
 the following stanzas from the i»cn of liiat "father of 
 angling " : 
 
 "I care not I to fish in seas, 
 P'resh rivers best my mind do please, 
 Whose sweet c.ihn course I contemplate. 
 And soek in life to imitate ; 
 In civil bounds I fain would keep 
 And for my past offences weep. 
 And when the timourous trout I wait 
 To take, and he devours my bait. 
 How poor a thing sometimes I find 
 Will captivate a f,'rcedy mind ! 
 And when none bite, I praise the wise 
 Whom vain allurements ne'er surprise." 
 
 If anything had been necessary to convince the ladies 
 that Captain Hemmings was the enthusiast for the beauties 
 of nature that he declared himself to be, the air with 
 which he delivered the above quaint lines was enough. 
 Even the astute Nellie was quite delighted to find the 
 sailor of such a poetic temperament. 
 
 " Why," she exclaimed, " I am astonished I I should 
 have thought you much too matter-of-fact to be a ' Find 
 tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in 
 stones, and good in everything ' young man ; but live and 
 learn. I wish I too ccmld live up to that kind of thing, 
 but I fear I am far too prosaic for such a charming life of 
 contemplation." 
 
 " Well," said Hemmings, " I am going away for some 
 time almost directly, amongst other visits to stay with the 
 Triscotts at Ilfracombe, so I shall not be able to follow 
 this life much longer. If, however, you should care to try 
 lor one day what living up to it is hke, why should not you 
 
L I XULU I - 
 
 JACK GOES FISHING 
 
 73 
 
 and your sister walk down to the river with ;ne now, as 
 you seem to have nothing particular to do ? Perhaps we 
 shall come across Treleaven down there ; as this is one of 
 the last days, he is sure to be at it. These soldiers have 
 the pull over us in everything, you see ; lazy beggars with 
 nothing to do, they can catch the early train, if they have 
 sufficient energy to get up in time, which I believe 
 Treleaven has." 
 
 ** I can't come," said MolHe, " but that is no reason 
 why Nellie shouldn't. She is quite old enough to 
 chaperone you over her native heath alone. If you do 
 meet any one on this lone waste, they will look at Nellie 
 and say, * Oh ! it's only that Miss Watson,' nobody for ten 
 miles round is ever the least surprised at anything she does. 
 She has no character to lose, I assure you 1 " 
 
 " Thank you, Mollie, for taking away my character so 
 thoroughly," said the elder sister. "At least, as you say I 
 haven't any, you can't well take it away, can you? I'm 
 afraid you're right, though, and that it has * gone, like last 
 year's summer, gone like my aunt's best spoons.' But that 
 is not the question. Am I to go with Captain Hemmings 
 or not ? I think, on the whole, having nothing better to 
 do (excuse apparent rudeness). Yes ! " 
 
 ** Bring Jack Treleaven back with you, and I'll give you 
 all something to eat, that is, if you and Captain Hemmings 
 are not satisfied with contemplative food beforehand." 
 
 " Oh, you wag ! " said Nellie, " your sarcasm is quite 
 too cutting. I fancy, however, that Mr. Jack will, in all 
 probability, bring himself, and, as he's sure to have an 
 appetite for three, it world be as well if you provided 
 sufficient for that nunil.cr ; " and oil" they started on their 
 fishing excursion. 
 
 > I f,i 
 
 t ' 
 

 74 
 
 ADA TRISC0T7 
 
 I ii 
 
 ? a 
 
 ; S' 
 
 MolHe looked after them until they were out of sight, 
 and then turned slowly back to the house. 
 
 "What was it," she kept on thinking to l^erself, "that 
 she could never quite like about Captain Hemmings?" 
 He was good-looking and agreeable, and had never done 
 or said anything in any way to prejudice her against him ; 
 but still she had that unaccountable feeling of slight mis- 
 trust when in his society — a feeling that, when he was most 
 open and above-board in his manner, he was in reality 
 most determined to conceal. But Nellie liked him ; so she 
 supposed it was all right, and, dismissing the subje'^' from 
 her thoughts, she entered the house, ?.nd was soon engaged 
 with "cook ■' in deep calculation over butcher's and baker's 
 books, which had been somewhat neglected lately for the 
 picnic, painting, and sketching excursions of the season. 
 
 Hemmings did not lead his fair companion in the 
 direction he generally pursued when going to the River 
 Tavy, but shaped his course, to use one of his own nautical 
 expressions, for a point quite a mile higher up, where, as 
 the banks were very thickly wooded, anglers seldom re- 
 sorted. They talked gaily as they went down over the moor, 
 Nellie certainly not giving her companion time for much 
 contemplation; nor did she appear much in the humour 
 for it herself. Had they known it, however, a surprise was 
 waiting for them, sufficient to give one, if not both of them, 
 food for contemplation enough to last for many days to 
 come. As they came down to the river's brink, through the 
 now almost leafless trees, they could see its course for some 
 distance without being observed by any one on its banks. 
 They were making for ? deep pool not entirely devoid of 
 current, where Hemmings proposed commencing his fishing 
 operations, and had just turned the corner of a large rock 
 
 ill 
 
JACK GOES FISHING 
 
 75 
 
 close to it, when a sight met their eyes, causing Nellie 
 Watson to turn pale, as she uttered a cry of surprise and 
 grasped her companion's arm tightly. Richard Hem- 
 mings, too, started back, while a deep flush of rage spread 
 itself over his dark face, and an oath passed his lips which 
 he had never before uttered in the presence of a woman. 
 But it passed unnoticed by NelHe, who seemed petrified 
 where she stood. This was what they saw. 
 
 At the bottom of the pool the water ran shoal, smooth 
 but rapid over a ledge of rock, preparatory to tumbling in a 
 little cascade into another deep hole. In the middle of 
 the river stood a man, withstanding with difficulty the force 
 of the current as he staggered along with a burden in his 
 arms. What was it ? No ! their eyes had not deceived 
 them. It was a young girl with legs bare above the knees, 
 where his arms clasped her, her dress trailing in the water, 
 her arms round the man's neck ! 
 
 In a moment Nellie had recognised both. The man, 
 fighting with the current, and supporting himself with one 
 hand with the handle of a landing-net, while the other 
 supported the bare-legged girl, was — Jack Treleaven ! And 
 the girl ? Laura Luscombe ! See, there were her pretty 
 little high-heeled boots and her stockings lying on the 
 opposite bank, beside a fishing-rod and large fishing-bag, 
 which accidentally concealed from view a fine, newly-killed 
 salmon, 
 
 " Disgraceful 1 " exclaimed Nellie, loud enough to be 
 heard by Jack, in spite of the roar of the rapid below, 
 startling him so that as he glanced in the direction of the 
 voice, and saw by whom he was observed, he nearly dropped 
 his fair burden in mid-stream. Nellie did not remain to 
 think or see more of what she considered his disuustinz 
 
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 76 
 
 y}Z>/^ TRl SCOTT 
 
 behaviour. She never noticed how dead was the weight he 
 was carrying, nor how pale the little face lying on his 
 shoulder. 
 
 "Come," she said, dragging Hemmings away forcibly, 
 and then, woman-like, turning upon him. " I ought to be 
 extremelv obliged co you for your kindness in bringing me 
 here to 'behold such an exhibition." And then in tones ol 
 as much sorrow as rage: "I had no idea that Jack Treleaven 
 could be such a brute ! " 
 
 There was no more talk of fishing that day, and they 
 retraced their steps to Moor Lodge in gloomy silence. 
 
 Let us now take a glance at Jack, who was, for the 
 second time in this history, seriously compromised, not, 
 however, on this occasion, as upon the last, without the 
 satisfaction of knowing how he had become so. He reached 
 the bank, but not a moment too soon, for even as he did 
 so the grasp of the arms round his neck had relaxed, and 
 he perceived that Laura was in a dead faint. Fortunately 
 for them both she had, by the mere force of muscular 
 action, held on so long, for she had fainted before Nellie 
 and Hemmings appeared upon the scene. He laid her down 
 on the bank and tried with all the care of a woman to 
 restore her, but for a long time ineffectually. 
 
 Jack was soft-hearted to a fault, and, not being accus- 
 tomed to women fainting, became really frightened. Little 
 cared he at this moment who might observe him, could he 
 only bring her to again, as, having in vain dashed water in 
 her face, he set to work frantically rubbing her hands and 
 dainty little feet, carefully drying them first with his pocket- 
 handkerchief. He was beginning in his fright to think that 
 T.aura was dead, when a soft sigh and quiver of the eyelids 
 told him she was still alive. He redoubled his efforts until 
 
JACK GOES FISHING 
 
 77 
 
 she was sufficiently restored to sit up and put on her shoes 
 and stockings, although, as she was otherwise soaking wet, 
 she might as well have been without those articles of attire. 
 
 A.iid now it is time that our readers should know that 
 which Nellie Watson had never stopped to inquire : what 
 was the meaning of all this, and how it all came about. 
 Jack had met Laura some way down tiie river as she was 
 returning from a solitary walk. Her first exclamation on 
 seeing him was ; 
 
 "Oh, I am so glad to have met you, I've just seen 
 a salmon, a beautiful clean-run fish, rise twice ; you must 
 come up the river and try to catch him." 
 
 Jack was at first incredulous, as a salmon is a very rarus 
 piscis indeed in the Tavy until after the close of the angling 
 season, when they begin to come up from the sea into that, 
 as well as into other west-country streams. However, he 
 had heard of occasional ones being killed, and Laura soon 
 persuaded him that she had not lived all her life on the 
 banks of the river without knowing a veritable salmon from 
 a peal. He acceded to her request, therefore, to go up the 
 river. 
 
 Laura made a capital companion, and was full of en- 
 thusiasm. She pointed out the exact spot where she had 
 seen him rise, behind a rock at the very head of the pool. 
 Jack admitted that it certainly did look like the "lie" of a 
 salmon, and, selecting a likely fly, he put on a stronger cast 
 of gut. At the very second throw, and just as the fly swept 
 round out of the stream in behind the rock, what were 
 Jack's sensations as he saw a large quitt " boil," which did 
 not, however, break the suriace, in the water at the end of 
 his line ? Well he knew what that meant ! It was Uic rise 
 ot a "real fish," as the salmon i^^ called par excclUnu by 
 
 Kil 
 
78 
 
 ADA TRI SCOTT 
 
 'I 
 
 J 
 
 anglers, and it was also the rise of a taking fish His heart 
 jumped into his mouth a? he struck a little harder than 
 perhaps he would have done had ** fish " been plenty. As 
 'le did so the rod, which was of good material but rather 
 light for the work, bent double, and the line flew out 
 through the rings as the fish, being hooked and keeping 
 deep, dashed up-stream where the water ran heaviest. No 
 doubt now as to whether it was a salmon or not — no peal 
 in the river could have faced the stream at that pace ! 
 
 Fortunate, indeed, was it that the precaution had been 
 t;iken of putting on a heavier cast ; the weight of the water 
 would infallibly have broken the one just removed, especially 
 when the fish flew into the air several times in succession 
 in his vain endeavours to remove the obnoxious insect that 
 had fixed itself so firmly in his mouth. Jack tried to keep 
 cool, but he was trembling all over with excitement, and 
 Laura also, as they saw the sides of the salmon shining like 
 burnished silver in his frantic leaps. Jack, however, had 
 presence of mind enough to lower the point of the rod to 
 him at each jump, and, as he followed him closely, keeping 
 as short a line as possible, found after the third leap that he 
 still had him on safe. After his leaps the fish still kept on 
 steadily up-stream, but moving much slower. 
 
 They had now reached a place where the river narrowed 
 very much and was beset with rocks and bushes. If he 
 once got among them he was lost, as, although clad in 
 wading things, it was no place where the fisherman could by 
 any means follow him. 
 
 " For goodness' sake, turn him if you can," said Laura. 
 
 ** I must try to do so even if I break everything," said 
 Jack, and, suiting the action to the word, he put on such a 
 strain as his little rod had never felt belore. 
 
mmmffmem 
 
 55E5 
 
 yACJ^ GOES FISHING 
 
 79 
 
 The fish turned, and, apparently not one whit tired by 
 his previous exploits, flew down the current and Lack 
 towards the pool like a sky-rocket, making the reel screech 
 again as the line ran out, although Jack followed at a run 
 along the bank for fifty or sixty yards back to the pool in 
 his efforts to keep close to his quarry. The salmon now 
 halted in his old quarters behind the rock and began to 
 sulk, at the same time jagging his nose in the ground to 
 rub out the hook, to the imminent risk of cutting the line. 
 This must be stopped at all hazards. At Jack's direction, 
 Laura commenced throwing stones, but down-stream of 
 him, for fear that, in descending, the weight of the stream 
 should carry them against the line, and either break it or 
 loosen the hold. The fish hereupon took another run. this 
 time across the pool and back again, to recommence the 
 same tactics. 
 
 But stones were plentiful, and I.aura kept him on the 
 move until he was evidently getting tired out, for he came 
 up to the lop of the water and began to show, giving a roll 
 over every now and then in a way which, although satis- 
 factory as showing he was nearly beaten, was very trying to 
 the hold. But he as not done yet, and he now took it 
 into his fishy brain j execute a manoeuvre which was not 
 only calculated to .ender all Jack's labour in vain and 
 secure his own es ipe, but which was the direct cause of 
 the dilemma in wn oh Captain Hemmings and Miss Watson 
 had discovered he pair. Slowly and irresistibly he swam 
 across and down the pool until, just at its tail, and where, 
 close to the opposite bank, a deep eddy was overhung by 
 some bushes, he gave an expiring jump. He was success- 
 ful in the first part of his plan, and had jumped over a long 
 wattle n-niortirrr (if into the river; the hne had pitched 
 
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 80 
 
 ADA TRI SCOTT 
 
 over it, just the length of the cast, and he himself still lay 
 splashing in the eddy. 
 
 The wattle was strong and pliable, yielding to his 
 struggles and playing him nearly as effectually as the rod ; 
 but vain as his endeavours to escape, were Jack's to lift his 
 line clear. The distance was too great ; the whole width of 
 the pool was between them. All he could do was to keep 
 it tight — to slacken it would be to lose the fish altogether. 
 The line moved backwards and forwards over the wattle, 
 but a twig sticking up prevented its being slipped off again 
 by any means \ should thj salmon take it into his head to 
 move but a few yards back into the centre of the pool, he 
 was lost, as indeed it seemed to both Jack and his fair 
 attendant he must be in any case. Now it was that the 
 latter displayed her presence of mind and showed herself to 
 be mistress of the situation. Exclaiming, " I'll save him 
 yet ! " she sat down on the bank, and had her shoes and 
 stockings off in a moment ; then, regardless of appearances, 
 or anything but the fish, she had in another moment taken 
 Jack's long-handled landing-net as a support, and sprung 
 into the shoal water at the tail of the pool. 
 
 The botto n just there was of firm gravel and did not 
 hurt her feet, but she found the water considerably heavier 
 than she thought. Advancing sideways, it was nearly up to 
 her knees at first, and got still deeper as she went on. Jack 
 shouted to her not to mind the fish, but to return, but Laura 
 was not the kind of girl to turn back from anything she had 
 made up her mind to do. She cried out : 
 
 *' It's all right. The current is not so heavy here. You 
 mind the line and I can get on well enough ! " 
 
 And so she could in the excitement of the moment, 
 especially as just then the salmon gave another desperate 
 
JACK GOES FISHING 
 
 Bi 
 
 splash, giving her a pang of fear lest he should escape after 
 all. Just as she reached the end of the eddy, she found 
 herself on a shifting sand, and sank a little in it, but with 
 a scramble she obtained a firm footing on a flat rock, 
 over which the water was running not fast, and barely knee- 
 deep. She was now just within reach of the wattle, but, as 
 she touched it, the fish saw her and made a plunge in the 
 direction most to be feared, /.<?., towards the centre of the 
 pool. For a moment it seemed as if the line must break, 
 but, shouting to Jack, " Look out ! raise the point of your 
 rod," she pressed down the wattle with the handle of the 
 net, leaning on it with all her force. The line passed over 
 the twig that was holding it, and all was again clear, the 
 salmon nearly touching her as he passed out into the midd'.e 
 of the pool. 
 
 To land hiii now was a comparatively easy task for Jack, 
 as, although without gaff or landing-net, he stood upon a 
 nice sloping bank, and after a few minutes more was able to 
 get the now thoroughly exhausted fish on the shallow, then 
 moving out below, while having out only a line the length of 
 the rod, one successful dash, and the fish was held by the 
 gills in a grip of iron by Jack's right hand. Useless all his 
 kicking now. There he lay on the sward, a magnificent 
 fellow of about fourteen pounds' weight. 
 
 Laura had paused upon tlie rock to see the end of the 
 fray, and to recover her breath, which she had quite lost in 
 the unwonted exertions. When she had seen the fish landed 
 and knocked on the head, she attempted to return. She 
 now, however, became aware for the first time that the 
 water was excessively cold, and that a chill and numbness 
 was creepina; through her limbs. ScarceW Ind she stepped 
 into the deeper water and on to the shifting sand, than .•'he 
 
 \ 
 
8a 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 i 
 
 'i 
 
 I!' % 
 
 found herself almost entirely iinable to move from cramp. 
 She screamed to Jack, who, to do him justice, was not 
 unmindful of her, and who had started to assist her after 
 giving the fish a knock on the head as a precautionary 
 measure, wiiliout waiting even to take the hook out of his 
 mouth. It was well he had tarried no longer, for T.aura was 
 in a dangerous plight. Just below where she stood she now 
 perceived what in going out she had not noticed, namely, 
 that the water was cmite deep, and, good heavens ! she was 
 slipping down the s.ind into the hole. She made another 
 desperate struggle, which, although it brought her fortunately 
 to ihe edge of the firm bottom over which Jack was advancing 
 to meet her, also plunged her deeper into the water, which 
 was now nearly up to her waist. She saw it was useless 
 attempting to proceed, and stood perfectly still, supporting 
 herself with the landing-net. It seemed as if Jack would 
 never reach her, her strength too was rapidly leaving her, as 
 cramped and benumbed she felt herself slipping inch by 
 inch towards the hole. 
 
 He was just in time. Reaching from the edge of the 
 firm ground he was able to take hold of the landing-net 
 which she still grasped, and to help her to place her arms 
 round his neck. He then contrived to draw her up the 
 sloping bank into the shallow water, Laura the while obey- 
 ing his instructions mechanically. He managed with diffi- 
 culty to lift her in his arms ; as he did so, she fainted. It 
 was at that very moment that Captain Hemmings and Nellie 
 Watson had come round the corner of the rock, and 
 witnessed this, to them, extraordinary performance, little 
 knowing how narrowly they had escaped seeing a woman 
 drowning. Had the impulsive Nellie but known the true 
 facts of the case, in place of at once assuming that this was 
 
 I: 
 
 :' ii 
 

 JACK GOES FISHING 
 
 83 
 
 some piece of indelicate romping on the part of poor T.aiira, 
 how different might have been the current of her thoughts 
 and her behaviour ; not indeed that either she or her com- 
 panion could, at the time, have been of much use, as there 
 was no bridge or means of crossing the river within a mile 
 of where they stood, either up or down the stream. 
 
 When Laura had recovered consciousness. Jack forced 
 her, very much against her inclination, to take a good dose 
 of whisky from his flask, of which she soon felt the benefit, 
 and was able in a minute or two to walk with his help. 
 
 Her first words were words of apology to Jack for all the 
 trouble she had given him, and for having been so silly as 
 to faint I She asked to have a look at the salmon, and 
 laughed delightedly when Jack called her a plucky little 
 girl, and said that the salmon would not have been there 
 but for her. She seemed to have forgotten her recent 
 danger, and declared she would willingly go through another 
 wetting for another salmon. Not so Jack ! Enthusiast as 
 he was, not for a hundred thousand salmon would he that a 
 girl should again risk her life in such a way. 
 
 They walked rapidly back to the mill, she leaning on 
 his arm, talking earnestly all the time, so that any one see- 
 ing them might have thought them a pair of young lovers. 
 She seemed to be appealing in some way to him from the 
 expression of her up-turned face, which looked white and 
 delicate now, from her late shock, with the fragile loveliness 
 of a wild hedge-rose. 
 
 They parted at the mill gate, Laura refusing to take the 
 fish, which she said would be no use to her, and telling 
 Jack she wished his friends " in along " to see it. After a 
 few more words, he took her hand and said : 
 
 " It is a bargain then, Laura? You promise faitlifully ?" 
 
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84 
 
 ADA T/CJSCOTT 
 
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 " Yes," she replied, after a moment's hesitation, " I 
 solemnly promise." 
 
 Jack paced thoughtfully back the three and a half miles 
 across the moor. It was well on in the afternoon when he 
 reached the station, for, not feeling inclined to have an 
 interview with Nellie that evening, he resolved to go into 
 Plymouth by a train that would soon pass. 
 
 Needless to say his salmon was the object of the envy 
 and admiration of several of his brother anglers, who were 
 waiting for the same train. Jack frankly told them that, 
 but for Miss Luscombe, the fish would have been alive at 
 that moment. He did not enter into more particulars, but 
 of course this was quite sufficient to give them a wide field 
 for chaff. Some of the young fishermen even went so far 
 as to call him " a sly dog ! " others remarked that he knew 
 what he was about when he took a pretty girl fishing with 
 him, especially as he managed to kill " two fish with one 
 hook," etc., etc. 
 
 But Jack was in no humour for badinage, so instead of as 
 usual going home with the other fishermen in a third-class 
 smoking-carriage, which they had to themselves and their 
 " fish " talk, he quietly at the last moment evaded the rest 
 and betook himself with his fish into a first-class carriage 
 which he got to himself As he went home he resolved to 
 go out on the day after the morrow — for on the morrow he 
 expected to be " on duty " — and explain to Nellie Watson 
 the equivocal position in which she had found him. At 
 first, in the righteousness of his cause, he made up his mind 
 that he would be above giving any explanation. He felt 
 angry with Nellie for turning up at such a time, and for so 
 evidently believing at once the very worst of him — with 
 Heminings, too, who he expected would make a good story 
 
JACK GOES /■■/.S///NG 
 
 (s 
 
 out of the whole thinfj. Is there anything that irritates a 
 man so much as the idea of being made ridiculous ? Hut 
 on reflection he ould not but acknowledge to himself that 
 the situation, to say the least of it, must have seemed 
 peculiar to an onlooker ; he therefore determined, as afore- 
 said, to go out to Horrabridge and right himself at all events 
 in Nellie's eyes. 
 
 Among those who had overheard the chaff at the station, 
 or some of it, was Henimings himself. He had gone with 
 Nellie as far as the i^ates of Moor Lodge, but she did not 
 press him to go in, and he went back to the station, arriving 
 there just before Jack. Although burning to hear Jack's 
 own account of what he knew must have been some strange 
 adventure with Laura Luscombe, he kept with characteristic 
 stealth in the background, and did not get into the train 
 with the other fishermen until he had seen Jack settle him- 
 self in the empty first-class carriage. On the way home, he 
 heard of course all that Jack had told the fathers about it, 
 and, on getting out at L'^evonport station, purposely threw 
 himself in Jack's way, and asked to see the fish. Jack 
 showed it to him, but neither made any allusion to what 
 was uppermost in both their minds. 
 
 " Are you going out again to-morrow to try for another ? " 
 asked Hemrings, casually, as they parted. 
 
 " No," said Jack, shortly, " the day after." 
 
 When the day after came, Jack had left Plymouth on 
 long leave. A telegram, on important family business, had 
 compelled him, he told the colonel, to take first instead of 
 second leave. 
 
 Strange to say, on the same date pretty Laura Luscombe 
 disappeared from the mill at Denham Bridge ! 
 
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 CHAPTER XL 
 
 TRISTILLIAN. 
 
 DA, her uncle, and her brother were now at 
 Tristillian — a fine old place near Dawlish, 
 belonging to their cousin Mr. Trefry. 
 
 This gentleman had been brought up in 
 his youth with Ada's father, and her uncle, William Triscott, 
 and they had maintained in after-life the brotherly affection 
 they had felt for one another as boys. Mr. Trefry's house 
 was always open to his cousins, who were nearly as much 
 at home there as at Penallyn. The first part of the shooting 
 season was generally passed by William Triscott with his 
 cousin, whose coverts were well stocked with pheasants. 
 
 Mr. Trefry's family consisted of his wife and one 
 daughter — Rose. The latter was a year or two older than 
 Ada. She was a tall, handsome girl, and had seen a good 
 deal of excitement in London and elsewhere; on the 
 strength of which she was a little given to patronising her 
 more unsophisticated cousin. The two were, however, fast 
 friends, writing constantly to one another, as girls will ; and 
 we may be sure that, in Ada's letters, Jack's name had 
 not been unfrequently mentioned — especially as Rose had 
 herself met him at Plymouth. Having seen him also in 
 the Park occasionally during the season, she was quite 
 
5 » . :' hi 
 
 TRISTILLIAN 
 
 «7 
 
 ^^l;- 
 
 inclined to take an interest in the handsome young oflficer, 
 whose dancing she remembered as " simply delightful." 
 
 Accustomed as she was to hear of Jack's sayings and 
 doings whenever she wrote to her, Miss Trefry was not a 
 little surprised to find, after her cousin had been at 
 Tristillian for a short time, that Jack's name had never 
 once been mentioned. She noticed also that Ada's 
 spirits were by no means so good as they were wont to be, 
 and that, although she laughed and seemed gay at times, 
 there was not a true ring about it ; and, when the excite- 
 ment of the moment passed off, she looked pale and worn, 
 and her manner became dull and abstracted. So Rose 
 began to think that something serious was the matter, and 
 shrewdly suspected that Mr. Jack Treleaven was at the 
 bottom of it, whatever it was. Nor was she wrong. Poor 
 Ada was indeed moping after Jack. The state of incerti- 
 tude she was in as to how matters stood with regard to 
 Nellie Watson made it worse. When she received letters 
 from friends in Plymouth, she tore them open eagerly, 
 hoping, yet fearing, to get the intelligence she looked for 
 and dreaded. 
 
 "Was he engaged to Nellie Watson? Had she ac- 
 cepted him or not ? " were the questions she asked herself 
 a thousand times a day. She was too proud to ask the 
 question directly from any ot ner correspondents, but she 
 wrote often, hoping to hear something definite soon, for the 
 suspense she felt was almost more than she could bear. 
 She wondered, as the month wore on, that some good- 
 natured friend did not write her the news of Jack's engage- 
 ment, and she looked in every Plymouth letter for the 
 dreaded paragraph commencing : " I h^ve some news that 
 may interest you about a friend of yours," etc. But no 1 
 
 %\ 
 
 SM "i i 
 
 f ■ 
 
88 
 
 AVA TRI SCOTT 
 
 Jack mic;ht have been dead and buried for all her friends 
 appeared to know or care. It was inexplicable. Oh, what 
 a relief it would be if she could only learn the worst at 
 once ! She became more depressed, and gave up writing 
 to her Plymouth friends at last. 
 
 " What was the use ? They would not tell her what 
 she wanted to know." 
 
 Rose Trefry had, out of good-nature, forborne to ask 
 her any questions for the first fortnight, hoping that what- 
 ever had gone wrong would improve, and Ada soon recover 
 her spirits. Finding, however, that in place of mending, 
 things became if anything worse, and Ada more melancholy 
 and nervous every day, Rose determined at last to find out 
 what had happened, and see if nothing could be done to 
 make poor Ada happy and cheerful again. Said Rose to 
 herself: 
 
 " A young thing like that must not have a secret, and 
 get dull and gloomy, if I can help it. I dare say it is only 
 some lovers' quarrel that she is worrying and fretting herself 
 to death over, that can easily be set right." 
 
 To tell the truth, also. Rose had her full share of 
 feminine curiosity, and wished greatly to hear all about 
 it, and know what it was that had so completely changed 
 her once bright and merry cousin. 
 
 One night, towards the end of Octobei, she went as 
 usual into Ada's room to sit by the fire in her dressing- 
 gown, and have a chat before they went to bed. This had 
 formerly been the time for confidences of all si ^ts between 
 the two girls, and they would often sit up until long after 
 midnight, talking and laughing over people and things, 
 and telling one another of their conquests and adventures ; 
 sometimes giving one another sage advice, or making plans 
 

 TRISTILUAN 
 
 89 
 
 for their future life — plans in all probability hardly re- 
 membered next morning, with the ready forgetfulness of 
 youth. But latterly it had been different. Rose could 
 feel that poor Ada, though still loving and sweet in her 
 manner, was evidently relieved when she bid her good- 
 night and left her room. 
 
 " However," said Rose, " I won't let this go on much 
 longer ; " and that very night she went into Ada's room, 
 and when they were sitting side by side at the fire, she 
 suddenly laid her hand on Ada's, and began : 
 
 " Now then, Ada, before another m'^rning breaks you 
 must tell me all about it. Why are you always moping and 
 looking so unhappy ? Now, don't prevaricate ; " for Ada 
 was beginning to say she was not unhappy, " I can see 
 quite well that there is something wrong since you came 
 here. You had much better tell me. It's not a good thing 
 for a girl of your age to have a secret upon her mind ; " 
 and Rose looked very sapient. " Now, is it Jack Treleaven ? 
 I feel convinced it's something about that former hero of 
 yours. Raison de pius^ you have never once spoken of him 
 since you came here. Now you must not mind me, it will 
 be much better for you to tell ; " and she drew Ada's 
 burning face on her shoulder and kissed her. 
 
 The kind voice and manner touched the unhappy girl 
 to the heart, and burying her face in her cousin's bosom, 
 she began to sob uncontrollably. 
 
 Rose soothed her as best she could, but she could not 
 help crying for sympathy herself, and it was some little 
 time before either of them could find voice enough to 
 speak. Then it all came out. Locked in each other's 
 arms, the whole story was told. How she loved Jack, how 
 she believed until lately that he loved her. How also, 
 
 
 •I 1 - 
 
ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 although Ada had always known that Nellie Watson was an 
 intimate friend of his, she attached no importance to that 
 fact until the fatal day of the picnic, when she heard him 
 proposing to Nellie in unmistakable terms ; and then, 
 worst of all, the uncertainty as to whether she had accepted 
 him or not, and her own inability to find out. She had 
 tried hard, she said, to think no more of him ; she hated 
 herself for it, but it was useless. She could not banish him 
 from her thoughts, nor help hoping that it had all been some 
 miserable mistake, and that he would come back to her the 
 amekind, honest, dkbonnaire Jack she had known and loved. 
 As to Rose, she became more utterly aghast at every 
 word. Ada had " heard him propose to Miss Watson with 
 her own ears 1 " What could that mean but that he meant 
 to marry her, and had only been flirting and amusing himself 
 with Ada ? Poor Ada ! she hoped it would " turn out to 
 be a mistake," and that he would "return to his allegiance !" 
 Rose knew it was worse than folly for her to lay that 
 " flattering unction to her soul." Mr. Jack Treleaven was 
 a mean, heartless wretch, amusing himself with every pretty 
 girl he met, and engaging her affections just to throw her 
 over for the next pretty face ; and Rose breathed a short 
 prayer that he might meet his match some day, and be 
 amply repaid for all the sorrow he was now causing. 
 However, all these thoughts she kept to herself, telling 
 Ada, as cheerily as she could, that she would do every- 
 thing in her po^ver to find out the truth, and bidding her 
 keep up her spirits, " for the good time would surely come." 
 
 And Ada went to sleep that night with a lighter heart 
 than she had had for many a long day. 
 
 Rose determined to wasie no time in finding out what 
 Ada desired to know. She said : 
 
y:\ 1:1 
 
 TRISTILUAN 
 
 91 
 
 "I will write to the Mansfields — they are intimate 
 friends of the Watsons. If anybody will know, it is Blanche 
 Mansfield." 
 
 Next day, therefore, she wrote to her friend, carefully 
 leaving the question she wished answered until the end, 
 when it was put in a postscript in the following terms : 
 
 " By-the-bye, my dear, when you are writing, don't torget 
 to tell me if it is really true that Mr. Treleaven is engaged 
 to Miss Watson ? " 
 
 After the lapse of a day or two an answer arrived. It 
 ran as follows : 
 
 "My dearest Rose, 
 
 " Fancy your thinking that Mr. Treleaven was en- 
 gaged to Nelli^ Watson 1 Whoever told you that must 
 have dreamed it. I am glad to say that such a thing was 
 never even reported here. I must tell you that I did hear 
 he was engaged to your cousin. Miss Triscott, but I suppose 
 it was only gossip — indeed, I hope so for her sake, as he 
 has turned out to be such a horrible scamp. Of course you 
 have not heard the story. He has run away with a girl 
 belonging to this place. She was missed two days ago, 
 and my mother, who was coming from Torquay that very 
 day, saw Mr. Treleaven put her into a carriage at Newton 
 Abbot Junction, and go i?i himself after her. So you see 
 there is no shadow of doubt about it. But I forgot to tell 
 you who the girl is. She is a miller's daughter near here, 
 called Laura Luscombe, a stuck-up little thing with some 
 pretensions to good looks. She was well-ec" jcated, I 
 believe, and imagined herself a lady. I must say I never 
 expected her to come to any good; she was quite above 
 her station, and the airs she gave herself at the Sunday 
 
 .M I 
 
 'k \ \ 
 
93 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 School, where our vicar, a very good-natured man, kindly 
 allowed her to teach, were simply ridiculous We heard of 
 her being missed at once, and the poor people at the mill 
 were in the greatest state of mind. They were dragging 
 the river when mother returned from Torquay. Although 
 she would much rather not have mentioned such a thing at 
 all, she was obliged to say what she had seen to stop the 
 useless search. It was too late for the poor old miller to 
 attempt recapturing his daughter if he wished to, which I 
 should think doubtful." 
 
 A few more rather malicious remarks ended this very 
 agreeable letter. There was a spiteful tore running through 
 the whole letter — against Ada, against Laura, and against 
 Jack Treleaven — which Rose could not account for at first, 
 until she remembered that when Jack was a stranger in 
 these parts, and before Ada appeared upon the scene, she 
 had heard that he admired Blanche Mansfield, who, al- 
 though not very pretty, was a pleasant, ladylike girl. Miss 
 Mansfield had a score to wipe off with Ada, but, to do her 
 justice, she little knew how thoroughly and completely her 
 letter to Rose Trefry would do it. 
 
 Rose groaned as she finished reading it. This was 
 really awful ! Could she in any way avoid showing the 
 letter to Ada, she might at least soften down the cruel facts 
 in telling her. The thought had hardly passed through her 
 mind, when Ada entered the room, and seeing the letter 
 in her hand asked for it, and Rose knew it would be 
 useless to try to withhold it. Alas, poor Ada 1 What an 
 awakening was hers ! The irritation caused by the mention 
 of her own name was rapidly swallowed up in the infinite 
 disgust and horror she experienced as she perused the 
 missive to the end. 
 
TRISriLLIAN 
 
 93 
 
 ■|'» 
 
 Having read it once, she turned the page and de- 
 liberately read it through a second time. Every letter, 
 every syllable, seemed to impress itself upon her brain as if 
 it vfr-'^ written in fire. Very pale, very handsom*^ and 
 nobk i^id she look as she handed back the letter to her 
 CO ; .n, saying quietly : 
 
 *' Thank you, dear Rose, I now see that you are per- 
 fectly right ; I have been very foolish, and, thank heaven, 
 until now I have known nothing of the world. Oh that 
 I had never learned such a bitter lesson of the wickedness 
 and heartlessness of men ! It will be one to last me my 
 whole life. I never wish to hear his name again ; and no*/ 
 let us have done with the whole painful subject." 
 
 Rose was crying, but Ada's face was perfectly com- 
 posed. 
 
 "Don't be sorry, darling," she said, kneeling down 
 beside her cousin and kissing her. "See, I don't mind!" 
 setting her features into a stiff smile. " It is much better as 
 it is; he is too vile and wicked to waste a thought on. 
 Come, get on your things ; a walk will do you good." And 
 again kissing Rose affectionately she got up and left the 
 room. 
 
 From that day the name that had been the dearest in 
 the world to Ada— even when she had thought its owner 
 was to marry Nellie Watson — was religiously tabooed 
 between the girls. 
 
 William Triscott and George of course heard the news 
 in due time ; but they were far too considerate to refer to 
 it in any way to Ada. William Triscott felt sincerely sorry 
 to hear that his favourite. Jack, had gone so utterly to the 
 bad, and found a difficulty in crediting the news ; for he 
 had, being an observant man, believed him to be much 
 
 :| 
 
 ; r.' 
 
 !i! 
 
 I r ;i 
 
94 
 
 ADA TRI SCOTT 
 
 attached to his niece, and he could hardly think it possible 
 that Jack would thus outrage her best feelings, even though 
 he had made no open declaration of love to her. 
 
 Had Jack Treleaven not been previously paying atten- 
 tions to his niece, Mr. Triscott — who was a man of the 
 world himself, and had, moreover, not been one of the 
 steadiest in his own youth — would have inclined to condone 
 the offence. Under the circumstances, however, he could 
 not but feel disgusted and disappointed. Speaking of the 
 matter to his cousin, Mr. Trefry, he said : 
 
 "It all comes of being in the army. I am glad, my 
 dear fellow, that neither you nor I have a son in that pro- 
 fession. Men join it very young, to find a very slack tone 
 of morality prevailing among their seniors, and, from having 
 so much idle time on their hands, they too soon fall into the 
 same groove. A colonel of a regiment has plenty to do besides 
 looking after the morals of his subalterns, and, having been 
 brought up in the same school himself, is apt to look upon 
 their little indiscretions in a very venial light — should he 
 accidentally become aware of them — often merely as a good 
 joke. Is it then so much to be wondered at, that these 
 boys, full of life and high spirits — good fellows enough, 
 many of them, if only they had a little encouragement to 
 keep straight — should run into follies and commit faults 
 quickly repented of and bitterly regretted throughout a 
 lifetime ? Depend upon it, my dear fellow, the army is 
 not the best profession to put a boy into, unless he has 
 strength to resist its temptations, and a wisdom beyond his 
 years. I'm really sorry about Jack Treleaven ! " 
 
 George had a few words on the same subject with his 
 cousin Rose. He said: "He thought, on the whole, it was 
 as well that Mr. Treleaven had done something that would 
 
THIS TIL f J AN 
 
 95 
 
 make his sister give up thinking of him altogether; that now, 
 at any rate, she could not bother her head any more about 
 him ; and it was quite evident that if he could, while 
 making love to her, go and calmly propose to another gir\ 
 — to say nothing of this last escapade — he was not a man 
 irorth caring about. If you will excuse my saying so, Rose, 
 in — adjective — blackguard, is what I call him. I can't 
 make out why Uncle William is so fond of the fellow. I 
 think we are well rid of him." 
 
 George felt very strongly the shameful way in which he 
 considered his sister had been treated, and had he at that 
 moment had an opportunity of an interview with our hero 
 himself, very hard things might have been said and done by 
 this young sailor. 
 
 
 s\ 
 
 m 
 
 .. 
 
 I' 
 
CHAPTER Xn. 
 
 FOX AHANnONS HIS I'F.WS OF PURSUIT. 
 
 •r'VaS^fV," 
 
 IIl-'-RE was yet another person at Tristillian at 
 tlvs tiiTH', to whom the knowledge of Laura 
 Liisconibe's elopement with Jack Treleaven 
 came as a severe blow. This was no other 
 than William P'ox. That true-hearted blue-jacket hid 
 accompanjjd the Triscotts thither. Looking after the 
 guns, and doing all sorts of useful things, he was in- 
 valuable as general handy man. JJy the death of a 
 relation, William had just become possessed of some little 
 property, and he was talking of leaving the sea and be- 
 coming a farmer ; he would then be in a better position, 
 and, with some money to back him, purposed to prosecute 
 his suit with Laura, who he hoped would not prove 
 obdurate for ever. He had loved her truly for years; 
 but although he knew she " looked higher," and considered 
 herself above him, as she had always been kind and 
 friendly, he fancied he might now have a chance. 
 
 At the dreadful news all his hopes were dashed to the 
 ground, and his whole future wrecked by a villain. Neither 
 the Triscotts nor the Trcfrys had told him — he had heard 
 the whole uniiappy story Irom his irieiid the old miller in 
 this way : When he had heard of his own good forzune, he 
 had written immediately to Laura's father, apprising him of 
 
FOX ABANDONS HIS PLANS OF PURSUIT 97 
 
 it, and telling him that he intended retiring from the navy. 
 He had at the same time forwarded some presents to hi > 
 friends at the mill. These articles he had been unable to 
 get at on his first return fiom sea, and so they were sent 
 now. Among otlier things, some pretty ornaments for 
 Laura. In a few days came the miller's reply, telling of 
 the dreadful calamity that had befallen them — the disap- 
 pearance of their daughter ! He further stated that her 
 abductor was an oflicer of the — th Regiment, who used 
 frequently to be on the river fishing — a gentleman of the 
 name of Treleavcn ; she had been seen in his company 
 the day she left home. The nu'Uer went on to say that he 
 had the greatest difficulty in believing that Mr. Treleavcn, 
 whom he had known well, and thought very hiuhly of, 
 could have been guilty of so base an act. He had gone at 
 once to inquire for him at the regiment, and was then 
 informed that Mr. Treleavcn had gone abroad. That 
 same evening he received a letter dated from Paris from 
 his unhappy daughter, asking his forgiveness and tellini; 
 him not to fret about her, that she was happy. He could 
 no longer have a doubt youug Treleaven was his daughter's 
 seducer, and the old man cursed him from his heart for a 
 sneaking, hypocritical villain. 
 
 When Fox received this letter he was stunned. He too 
 knew this Mr. Treleaven, having oiten met him at Mr. 
 Triscott's, and, like everybody else, had been greatly pre- 
 possessed by Jack's frank and open manner. Gnashing his 
 teeth with rage, William Fox swore to be avenged upon the 
 destroyer of sweet little Laura Luscombe. Laura ! whom 
 he had watched growing up from pretty innocent childhood 
 into beautiful womanhood ; and whom he had worshipped 
 in his heart as the embou-.^iciiL oi ail j^oodneis and purity. 
 
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 98 
 
 ADA TRIS^ ST 
 
 What was she now? The last pretty plaything of an idle 
 and vicious young scoundrel, to be kissed and petted as 
 long as the fancy lasted, and then, when the novelty had 
 worn off, to be cast aside for some new toy. He did not 
 blame her ; he could not blame her. He thought of her 
 youth and innocence, and knew she had been deceived. 
 He thought of the cruel awakening that must come sooner 
 or later, and — with a shudder — of what her future life 
 might be : cut off from the influence of all good women, 
 with neither hope nor self-respect, to what depths of 
 degradation might she not sink? And — bitterest thought 
 of all — how helpless he was to save her ! 
 
 Oh, how broken-hearted he felt as he reviewed his own 
 past life for the last five years ! Present in his mind had 
 ever been one image to cheer him in the tempest, or during 
 the lonely watches of the night. Out at the yard-arm 
 reefing topsails in the gale ; at the wheel when the salt 
 spray dashed over and around him, and the sea-birds 
 shrieked overhead — Laura Luscombe's memory had been 
 his one haven of hope, his sole light of refuge. Of her 
 memory he felt indeed as the old poet says of the girdle : 
 
 •* \\. was his heaven's extremest sphere* 
 The pale that held that lovely dear ; 
 His hope, his joy, his fear, his love» 
 Did all within that circle move." 
 
 v (all an hour ago he had been a hopeful, happy man — 
 and now what was he ? A mere broken spar tossed to ?,nd 
 fro in a restless sea of misery and disappointment, no 
 haven of tranquil peace to look forward to, no guiding star 
 in his dark night. He had staked everything on the 
 certainty of sooner or later winning this woman's heart and 
 making her his wife. And he had lost, "Yes, lost, lost, 
 
FOX ABANDONS HIS PLANS OF PURSUIT 99 
 
 lost ! " he muttered. *' What is there now to live for ? 
 Nothing ! " and, laying his arms on the table where he sat, 
 he laid his head on his hands and wept aloud. But all is 
 not yet over ; there is something still to live for — a duty to 
 be performed. He will have vengeance on the man who 
 has blasted her life and his own. And, raising his head 
 from his arms, William Fox looked towards heaven and 
 solemnised his determination with an oath. As his passions 
 subsided and he grew calmer, his thoughts again reverted to 
 Laura. Is it not still possible to do something for her 
 before she is ruined, body and soul ? He would try to 
 discover where she was hidden, and take her back to her 
 father's house. This resolution brought him some comfort, 
 and he felt that he must now be active and not let the grass 
 grow under his feet. 
 
 His discharge from the navy was instantly applied for, 
 but there were more obstacles in the way than he had 
 reckoned upon. Several weeks elapsed, and still the 
 parchment certificate he so much longed for, which was 
 to make him a free man, remained unsigned. His in- 
 tention was to proceed instantly to Paris. From his habits 
 of application, he had, while in French ports, picked up a 
 good deal of the language, in addition to what he had 
 learned in his youth at a good middle-class school. Once 
 in Paris, he would hunt for Laura until he found her, and 
 would then persuade, or if necessary force, her to return. 
 This was the somewhat wild idea which took possession of 
 his mind and grew there^ while he waited on from day to 
 day with Lieutenant Triscott at Tristillian, hourly expecting 
 his release, without which, if he left the kingdom, he 
 rendered himself liable to be arrested on his return as a 
 deserter. He had no choice bat to remain where h*^ was. 
 
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 ADA TRI SCOTT 
 
 fretting and fuming at the delay which was making llfai 
 hngward and old before his time. 
 
 George Triscott was at a loss to understand his im- 
 patience to get his discharge; telling him he had written 
 about it, alt^'-^ugh he thought it a pity so good a sailor 
 should leave the service, but he could not see what dif- 
 ference a few days one way or the other could make. 
 
 William Fox was an honest, open-hearterl fellow, but he 
 could no^ bring himself to speak to the lie\itenant of the 
 secret that had destroyed his present and future happiness. 
 He said " He had business which rendered his leaving the 
 country a necessity, and the sooner the better." 
 
 A month passed; yet, although he had obtained 
 an extension of leave through George's influence, the 
 anxiously expected paper never arrived. At the expira- 
 tion of that period several guests arrived at Tristillian, 
 Captain Hemmings among the number; for, the leal 
 now being well off the trees, the big shoots were about 
 to commence. 
 
 The commander did not appear particularly pleased at 
 again encountering his former subordinate. Whether it was 
 a reminiscence of a conversation with Laura some few 
 months ago on the banks of the Tavy, or whether it was 
 caused by an old dislike which Fox had experienced to his 
 cost aboard the Raven, this much is certain, that his face 
 showed distinctly a shade of annoyance as he greeted the 
 former quartermaster of that ship rather sharply. 
 
 "Well, Fox, what are ycu doing here ? Time yoa were 
 at tea again ; your leave must be up long ago." 
 
 The blue-jacket answered his officer respectfully, from 
 old habits of discipline, '* that he wasi anxiously Awaiting his 
 discbarge." 
 
 ilij 
 
FOX ABANDONS HIS PLANS OF PURSUIT loi 
 
 .^'H 
 
 Hemmings' face softened a liitle as he replied, more 
 kindly : 
 
 '^ I think you are making a great mistake. A man with 
 your education would be sure to get on ; you would 
 probably soon become a warrant-officer. You should think 
 better of it before it is too late. In fact, as Mr. Triscott 
 spoke well to me of your recent conduct on board the 
 Raven, I should be glad to help you if you felt inclined to 
 change your mind. The Hesperus is now commissioning, 
 and I think, as the captain is a friend of mine, I could get 
 you a berth on board her as gunner. If I remember right, you 
 were gunner's mate when you were unfortunately reduced." 
 
 Well did Fox remember that fact also, and that the very 
 officer speaking to him had been the cause of his reduction 
 on the occasion referred to. In spite of this, the apparent 
 kindness of the intention touched him, and to a thorough 
 seaman — as he was — the prospect of obtaining the respon- 
 sible post of gunner in a smart ship was by no means an 
 unpleasant one. He remembered that if his discharge did 
 not arrive very shortly he would be forced to rejoin, and in 
 his old inferior capacity of quartermaster. 
 
 " Thank you very much, sir," he answered, " for your 
 kindness. If I have not obtained my discharge parchment 
 in a day or two, I shall be very much obliged if you still 
 feel inclined to interest yourself in me." 
 
 Little did Fox know that it was Captain Hemmings 
 himself who had been, either accidentally or intentionally, 
 the direct cause that that paper had not long ago reached 
 his hands. And yet such was the case. After an absence 
 of about ten days, Captain Hemmings had been called to 
 take over, on his return to Dcvonport, temporary command 
 of the i^uardship, on the buck, of which William Fox's nav.ic 
 
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I02 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 was home, while not belonging to a ship. While thus em- 
 ployed, the application for discharge came in among some 
 others for his signature, but was for some reason " pigeon- 
 holed" by him, no doubt for further reference — and for- 
 gotten ! 
 
 Captain Hemmings had been relieved from this duty at 
 the expiration of a few days, when he again went away, this 
 time on prolonged leave of absence, which his high connec- 
 tions at the Admiralty facilitated his obtaining. When 
 further applications for William's discharge came in, re- 
 ference should of course have been made to the original 
 one, which was not forthcoming. Now " red-tape " is quite 
 as strong a power in the navy as in other Government 
 services. It would therefore have been highly improper and 
 out of routine for any steps to be taken in the matter until 
 the production of the original document ; as this was not to 
 be found, William's chance of being in a short time once 
 more at sea was fa ' greater than he expected when thanking 
 the commander for his supposed kindness. Speaking after- 
 wards to George, Hemmings remarked : 
 
 " You should not really keep that man Fox about here 
 any longer, or encourage the idea he has of leaving the 
 service. From what you tell me of the man, I have a much 
 better opinion of him than I had formerly. He is a well- 
 spoken fellow, and would make a good warrant-officer. I 
 can get him a billet as gunner, if you do as I think you 
 should, and persuade him to take advantage of some hitch 
 he mentions in getting his discharge. It is simply absurd to 
 think of a man like him, who has been so long at sea, 
 turning farmer.'* 
 
 George wondered at this somewhat sudden interest in 
 Fox, wiioiu Heminiiigs had never beiore had a good word 
 
FOX ABANDONS HIS PLANS OF PURSUIT 103 
 
 for ; but he agreed in all he said, and promised to speak to 
 the man again in the course of the next day or two. Before 
 he did so, however, another and more important conversa- 
 tion took place between the commander and Fox. The 
 latter was accompanying the gentlemen out shooting one 
 day, when he heard Captain Hemmings telling one of the 
 party that he had been in Paris for so'ne weeks lately, and 
 enlarging on the different places of amusement he had been 
 at while there. The thought instantly struck William, whose 
 heart beat fast at the very first mention of the name Paris : 
 " Perhaps he may have seen Laura while there. He might 
 have seen her at one of those theatres." 
 
 After thinking the matter over calmly he determined to 
 ask the question. Taking advantage, therefore, of the 
 opportunity when Hemmings was alone to address him, he 
 asked if he might be allowed a word with him in private. 
 The commander, imagining that it bore reference to the 
 appointment as gunner, readily granted the request. 
 
 William commenced at once, without any beating about 
 the bush : 
 
 " I think, sir, you know a young woman of the name of 
 Laura Luscombe ; she told me she had seen you occasionally 
 fishing at Denham Bridge." 
 
 Hemmings was not a man easily taken aback, but he 
 certainly seemed to be so at this moment, as, pausing a 
 second, he replied, in a voice full of suppressed passion : 
 
 " What the devil do you mean, sir, by this impertinence ? 
 What should I know of Laura Luscombe ? " 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir, you misunderstood me, I mean 
 no impertinence," said Fox ; " but knowing you to have 
 been in Paris recently, where she is supposed to be, I 
 thought you might possibly have seen her, that's ail." 
 
 
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104 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
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 ** I don*t understand you at all," said the commander, 
 trying to su;)press tlu anger his voice betrayed, bat still 
 white with rage — or was it anxiety ? " Explain yourself." 
 
 "Well, sir, you see the young lady I mentioned dis- 
 appeared from her home some little time ago. Her father 
 is one of my oldcsL friends, and is in the greatest distress ; 
 he is most anxious to have some tidings of her, and if 
 possible induce her to return home." 
 
 William stopped for a moment, with a face now nearly as 
 white as Hemmings', as if unable to utter the next few words. 
 Wiping his brow with his handkerchief, he hurried on : 
 
 "She was seduced from her home by Mr. Treleaven. 
 He is abroad with her now — in Paris. I thought it possible 
 you might have seen one or other c f them there, and would 
 be able perhaps to give me some information. I was 
 thinking of going over to try to bring her back to her 
 wretched parents." 
 
 Hemniings' face had cleared considerably as poor Fox 
 jerked out these sentences, and he was his quiet, self- 
 possessed self agam as he answered: 
 
 "A most laudable intention, truly. I most certainly 
 did see Mr. Treleaven one day in Paris, but not the young 
 woman you speak of. Ah, yes ; I recollect now, he did tell 
 me he was travelling with a lady. All the information I 
 can give you about the matter is that he told me he was 
 going to Italy, and then on into Egypt. I am afraid yours 
 would indeed be a wild-goose chase, and that you would 
 only waste your time and money for nothing. Supposing 
 you do find her, which is highly improbable, are you certain 
 she will return with you — ^a young lady who voluntarily 
 leaves her father's roof in the way you describe — ^just bo- 
 CiiUHc you choose to follow and ask her to do %o}" 
 
;' 
 
 FOX ABANDONS HIS PLANS OF PURSUIT 105 
 
 *' Yes, sir," said William, "but " 
 
 But Hemmings would not be interrupted, and went on : 
 
 "Again, there is another possibility to be entered on, 
 namely, that of her being his wife. From the little I know 
 of Miss Luscombe, and from what you tell me yourself of 
 her, I feel quite confident that this must be the case. She 
 was a very lady-like girl, quite good enough for that young 
 coxcomb, Mr. Treleaven. Think then what a fool you 
 would make of yourself by following her ! ** 
 
 Fox had never looked at it in this light before ; but, 
 now it was put before him, he wondered he had not. From 
 this moment he began to give up all his plans of pursuit ; 
 he knew there was truth enough in all Captain Hemmings 
 had said. That even supposing he got his discharge 
 immediately, and found Laura, what chaace was there of 
 his being able to persuade her to return home ? Almost 
 none. To force her to do so, he now felt in his calmer 
 moments, would be impossible. His spirit was broken. 
 Laura was under any circumstances lost to him for ever, 
 and the best thing he could do was to try to drown care 
 and sorrow in h?.rd work. 
 
 ** I am sorry for you, Fox," said Hemmings, who had 
 been watching him narrowly as he meditated heavily over 
 these things, " if you are interested in the girl. A thing of 
 this sort must be very distressing, and it is better to try to 
 forget it if no good can be done. Excuse me if I did not 
 understand you just now when you began to speak. I 
 had, I will own, heard something of the young lady's dis- 
 appearance, and was naturally rather astonished at your 
 asking me about her. Plenty of work is the best thing for 
 you, as I told you a few days since ; I shall be glad to help 
 you, and if you like, although now rather late, I will still 
 
 
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 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 
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 try and get the billet I promised. If I succeed, while the 
 ship is fitting out you will have no time to think, and once 
 at sea you will, as gunner, have lots of work to look after. 
 What do you say, Fox ? Shall I write to the captain of the 
 HtsperusV* 
 
 ** Yes, sir, if you will be so kind ; some active employ- 
 ment will be the best thing for me," said Fox, dejectedly. 
 "I believe I should only make matters worse by going 
 to look for her ; it makes me easier in my mind to think 
 that he has perhaps made her his wife. My poor little 
 Laura ! God send her happiness ! " 
 
 And so it came to pass that about a week after this 
 William Fox was at work in Devonport Dockyard, em- 
 ployed in the fitting out of the ship on which Captain 
 Hemmings' interest had provided him the t srth of gunner. 
 He considered himself most highly indebted to that officer, 
 and felt that he had given him excellent advice. A lonely 
 man he must always be ; since Laura was lost to him, he 
 had no object in life, and no one to make or lay by 
 money for. 
 
 But still, it would have been contrary to his nature 
 to take to a life of idleness and inaction. If there was no 
 permanent solace for his grief in hard work, it brought 
 at least temporary forgetfulness. The idea that Laura was 
 married had become a conviction, and he wrote to the old 
 miller to take comfort — that his daughter could not be 
 anything else than an honest woman and a virtuous wife. 
 
CHAPTER XIIT. 
 
 THE SUMMER-HOUSE, 
 
 ' t '\ "■ 
 
 ^\ 
 
 HE days passed pleasantly enough for Hem- 
 mi ngs at Tristillian. Plenty of pheasants to 
 shoot by day, varied by occasional " partridge 
 drives," and plenty of pleasant women to talk 
 to of an evening — such was the pror^ramme, and one that 
 suits most young Englishmen very well. 
 
 The comma.ider was also a " bit of a lion " among the 
 people whom he now met for the first time, for, although 
 the ill-effects of his wound had quite worn off, the remem- 
 brance of the slave affair in which he had received it was 
 still fresh in the memories of the country-folk, who had 
 seen stirring representations of it in the picture-papers at 
 the time. All the Triscotts' friends likewise knew that he 
 and George had been under fire together. 
 
 He contrived to make himself so agreeable to the 
 ladies that when, twice during his stay, he was obliged to 
 go away on " important business " from Saturday to Monday, 
 he was quite missed. With the men in the house he was 
 not so popular; he did not trouble himself to be so 
 agreeable to them, content to be fad/e princeps with the 
 opposite sex. 
 
 Some of the gentlemen staying with the Trefrys slightly 
 resented this popularity with the ladies, but more par- 
 
 
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 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
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 'II 
 
 tirtibrlv He'T>Tm>c^s' tones of supenority n\tb thcni?;clve8. 
 One of the malcontents indeed went so far as to attempt to 
 disparage him to Miss Trefry, and to remark, with a sneer, 
 "That it was a peculiar thing that Captain Hemmings' 
 'important business' should always take him away on a 
 Sunday." 
 
 This young gentleman, however, who was only the son 
 of a country squire, and had never boarded a slaver, or 
 otherwise distin;^uished himself, was promptly snubbed by 
 the daughter of his host. Aftei that, if Hemmings was 
 unfavourably spokeo o^ it was not in the presence of 
 the ladies. 
 
 Ada continuf^d to be very amiable to him, but she had 
 quite dropped that flighty manner she had adopted just 
 before leaving Stoke, She was graver and quieter than of 
 old, but, in Hemmings' eyes, none the less bewitching for 
 that. Her beauty was as remarkable in morning-dress, 
 when with her cousin out in the woods to lunch with the 
 shooters, as when faultlessly attired in evening costume; 
 although certainly, on the latter occasions, the charms of 
 her round white arms and snowy neck were an additional 
 beauty to her graceful figure. 
 
 Hemmings seemed to become more entranced with her 
 every day. He was always by her side, paying her the 
 thousand little attentions which a man with plenty of 
 saDoir faire can render without making himself obtrusive. 
 Ada accepted this homage as evidence of friendliness 
 towards her on his part, but would not recognise in it 
 anything more, although a secret feeling, which she tried 
 hard not to admit, soon told her that Captain Hemmings 
 wished to be regarded by her as something more than a 
 friend. No new attachment could fmd place in her heart, 
 
rUE SUMMER-HOUSE 
 
 109 
 
 » t 
 
 bnt as a friend she liked Hemmings, and it would have 
 grieved her to pain bin in any way. She therefore weakly 
 pennitted his attentions, being too soft-l.earted to repel 
 them, or put him down in any way. Jack's image was 
 always before her, try as she would to banish it and to 
 persuade herself that she had forgotten all about him. All 
 day long she laughed and talked gaily, taking part in every 
 amusement, and never allowing herself to think for a 
 moment ; but at night the recollection of happy days gone 
 by haunted her, keeping her awake for hours, until her 
 brain ached with thinking, and with anger at herself for 
 thinking still of one so base and heartless. 
 
 One night, while thus lying awake hour after hour, her 
 thoughts turned to Nellie Watson. She remembered the 
 picnic, and how she had overheard Jack proposing to 
 Nellie ; that had been the first blow to her happiness, but 
 it was nothing to what she had suffered since. Poor 
 Nellie ! she had parted coldly from her, at the dose of 
 that miserable day; but ''a fellow-feeling makes us won* 
 drous kind," and she now pitied her for havmg been 
 befooled by Jack, who had certainly pretended to love 
 her also. Ada regretted having been so frigid to Nellie, 
 and determined to make it up when next they met. There 
 was a bond of union between them, for had not both been 
 equally unfortunate in mistaking for real gold what was the 
 merest dross? On their return to Penally n in the winter 
 she would ask her uncle to invite Nellie and her sister 
 there. George would like it, too, for he used to swear 
 ''there was no girl like Nellie Watson." It was true he 
 seemed just now to be a good deal taken up with his 
 cousin Rose ; but then — he was always in love w.ih some 
 OTie, aaid not at all avcTS© to chanj^ing backwards and 
 
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 ADA TA'ISCOTT 
 
 'i 
 
 forwards with chanc:e of place. He was a regular sailor in 
 ihat respect, and bcciacd to find uuthiiig bo ciiarming 
 as variety. 
 
 But to return to the present. Hemmings was constantly 
 with her, and, unacknowledged even to her own heart, it 
 sonMif^d her wounded pride to find another man only too 
 willing to pick up what Jack had so ruthlessly cast away. 
 Rose took every opportunity to give them as much of one 
 another's society as possible, for she thought the more she 
 saw of another man the less her cousin would be disposed 
 to dwell on her late desillusion. Miss I'refry was also a 
 woman of the world, and thought it would not be at all a 
 bad thing for Ada to marry Captain Hemmings. She knew 
 him to be well-off and well-connected, what more could any 
 one desire? Ada must get over that fancy for Jack Tre- 
 leaven. And Rose wondered vaguely what would become 
 of him, now he had put himself outside the pale uf suciei), 
 in that part of the world at least. 
 
 It therefore came about that at lunch-time in the 
 coverts, when the ladies stayed to see a little of the shooting, 
 or when on off-days there were excursions to any of the 
 places of interest round about, it was invariably to Hem- 
 mings' charge that Ada fell. He was not ungrateful to 
 Miss Trefry, and made the best of the opportunities she 
 gave him, but still he was not sure of Ada. 
 
 The commander's stay at Tristillian was drawing very 
 near its close, when a day was fixed for shooting the 
 "home coverts." This was to be the great day of the 
 season, and, although the number of pheasants to be slain 
 would not have appeared great to a man only accustomed 
 to Norfolk battue-shooting, it was something considerable ; 
 for, in addition to the birds whose usual habitat was in 
 
THE aUMMER-llOUSE 
 
 III 
 
 the coverts all round the Mall, many more, and hares* 
 also, must have drawn in after the shooiing outside, in 
 the large woods and the plantations farther away. 
 
 The coverts to be shot to-day were the " North " and 
 "Alma" plantations immediately at the back of the Hull ; 
 the *• North Grove " farther away still, and the *' l-f>jig " 
 plantation. This latter, streiching souihwards Ironi liic 
 *'Alma," swept past the front of the Mall, beini^ there 
 intersected by a carriage-drive, and then on fur abuut 
 Haifa mile down into the little village. This Ion;; plamatioti 
 was traversed throughout its whole length by a gravel 
 walk, which was a favourite place of exerci.-.e for the 
 inhabitants of Tristillian in winter or summer. In the 
 former season it was sheltered from tlie blast by the tail 
 trees, which shaded it f'om the heat in summer also. 
 
 In this plantation, about three parts of the way down 
 to the village, was an old thatched oak summer-liouse 
 situated on the borders of a pond. But this summer-house 
 requires a little more description before we proceed further 
 with the events of the day. It was built on a slight eleval' }n 
 above the pond, and shaded on three sides by tall ash 
 and fir trees ; the fourth side was a large doorway, through 
 which the sun shone from the opening among the trees 
 above the water, and whence in summer one might watch 
 the great pike lazily splashing about among the water-liiics 
 that swayed gently to and fro with every breath of air. 
 
 The path from the vdlage to the Hall ran close beside 
 it, winding round on the far side of the pond, through a 
 regular forest of larches, which pushed their pale green 
 
 i If 
 
 This was written before the Ground Game Act came into (orce. 
 There were hares in those da>s, and in plenty. But, alis ! there wa'< 
 only one hare killed at TribtiUian in the last big shoui: n ,889. 
 
112 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 w 
 
 folip.ge up through the rarer forest trees. Owing to these 
 larches, and the little eminence on which the rustic house 
 stood, a person advancing along the gravel walk would 
 neither observe nor be observed by the occupants until close 
 to the entrance, when the sound of his step on the gravel 
 might probably give sufficient warning to prevent indiscreet 
 intrusion. 
 
 It was indeed quite possible to pass the summer-house 
 without noticing that it was occupied or not, the entrance 
 being slightly turned away from the path and facing a little 
 grassy peninsula which ran out into the vater. At the 
 extreme end of the little peninsula a weeping :villow dipped 
 its long pliant boughs into the glassy depths below. It was 
 a pleasant spot at all times of the year, and one in which 
 eithei' old or young might easily while away an hour with a 
 book, a companion, or solitary thoughts. The cooing of 
 the wood-pigeons, or their frightened flapping, as, disturbed 
 from their retreat in the big ash, they wheeled across the 
 pond ; the harsh note of a water-hen swimming leisurely 
 along in little jerks ; the squirrels chasing each other up and 
 down the trees, or playing together on the peninsula; a 
 hare cantering slowly up the path to the edge of the pond, 
 and then perchance turning frightened away, scattering the 
 gravel in its headlong flight —these, and many similar wood- 
 land scenes, might well afford interest by the hour together 
 to the lover of nature. 
 
 On the day of the shooting, the " North Grove," which 
 it may be remembered was that farthest away, and which 
 covered the largest acreage, was the covert first shot by the 
 gentlemen. This occupied them until lunch-time ; and, 
 Wiih the arrival of lunch, arrived also the ladies upon the 
 isceue. After luncheon — which was comfortably cicrved 
 
THE SUMMER-HOUSE 
 
 "3 
 
 upon the cImh straw of a bam, known as the "blue barn.** 
 on the lucus a non lucendo principle because it was white — 
 the guns surrounded the " North " plantation. Here the 
 hot corner was made at the corner of the farmyard, a very 
 convenient place for the ladies, who, without wading 
 through the mud, could from their comfortable seats upon 
 the straw see all the sport through the large open barn 
 doors, while they were at the same time quite safe from the 
 guns. 
 
 As the guns all drew down the sides of the covert to the 
 corner, it was easy to see that two of the gentlemen were 
 shooting very jealous of one another, both shooting at the 
 same bi-ds, and deliberately taking each other's shots. 
 These were the young squire before mentioned and Captain 
 Hemmings. This young gentleman had been nettled by 
 some little remark about his retriever made by the other, 
 and, in retaliation, had — they being both on the same side 
 of the " North " plantation — commenced shooting at his 
 birds and hares before they reached him, firing across 
 Hemmings in the most unr'arrantable manner. But two 
 can play at that game ; and Hemmings, being rather the 
 quicker shot of the two, was getting the best of it, while both 
 were getting exasperated. 
 
 As they approached the comer, the head keeper — who 
 did not like seeing his birds mutilated by receiving two 
 barrels instead of one, or else easy shots missed clean, 
 from the mutual anxiety of the jealous pair — ventured to 
 address a slight remonstrance to " the Cappen." 
 
 "Quite right," said Hemmings, in a very sarcastic tone, 
 which, as there was just then a momentary lu.i in the tiring, 
 reached the ladies where they sat. " Quite ricjht," he 
 repeated, quietiy, putting his gun under his arm ; •* 1 think 
 
 
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IH 
 
 ADA TRI SCOTT 
 
 we'll just let Mr. Stone " — the gentleman pforesaic' — " have 
 two shots at evt^rything first, and then see what v/e ran do 
 for him ; then there need be no more dispute as to whose 
 bird it is!" 
 
 Mr. Stone waf? maddenerl hy this calm snrrPRm. A 
 cock pheasant got up. Barely giving it time to clear the 
 boughs, he discharged both barrels at it in quick succession ; 
 knowing that the ladies' eyes were upon him, he missed 
 clean with both. 
 
 " Now then, Stone, let me see if I can't help you with 
 that bird," said Captain Hemmings ; and, taking his gun 
 deliberately from under his arm, he bowled the bird over as 
 it was sailing away unscathed over the barn. It fell on the 
 roof, and, bounding off, dropped in front of the open door 
 at the ladies' feet. 
 
 " Bravo ! Captain Hemmings," cried Ada, clapping her 
 hands ; and a murmur of approval went round, for nothing 
 succeeds with the fair sex like success. 
 
 This was one of the last shots fired at this covert, and 
 Mr. Stone, who was a victim to Ada's charms, ground his 
 teeth with rage at seeing a couple of the tail feathers of the 
 bird gracing her hat before they left for the " Alma " planta- 
 tion, which was next shot; and then came the "Long" 
 plantation, the one in which the summer-house stood. This 
 last was beaten up to the carriage-drive, which, it may be 
 remembered, intersected it, and then the top part was driven 
 down to the same place. Ada was standing on the drive 
 with Hemmings when, at the very end of the proceedings, 
 another slight misunderstanding took place between that 
 gentleman and Mr. Stone. A hare crossed the road — they 
 botli fired at it, and it rolled over into the bushes on the 
 other side. 
 

 THE SUMMER-HOUSE 
 
 "S 
 
 " That's my hare ! " cried Stone, " my hare ! " 
 
 "Then, if it's your hare, you'd better send that excellent 
 retriever of yours, whose points we were discussing this 
 morning, to fetch it," replied Hemraings. " I fancy he'll 
 have his work cut out for him ; " for he had seen the hare, 
 after lying motionless for a moment or so, pick itself up and 
 run away down the " Long " plantation. 
 
 Mr. Stone's dog hit off the trail pretty well at first, but 
 the wounded hare had evidently more strength than they 
 thought, for, although the dog followed it half-way down to 
 the summer-house, it was not to be found, and then the dog 
 came to a check in a marshy spot. The shooting was over, 
 and Hemmings strolled down the pathway, accompanied by 
 Ada, in order to watch the dog's performances, whose powers 
 of nose he had maligned in the morning. He had borrowed 
 the keeper's retriever, an excellent animal, and led him in a 
 thong. Stone's dog being at fault, Hemmings considerately 
 remarking, " There ! I told you he had no nose," loosed the 
 retriever he held in leash, saying : 
 
 " Now we'll decide whose hare it is, by whose dog finds 
 him." 
 
 But Mr. Stone was still in a state of irritation, possibly 
 increased by the sigh»^^ of the feathers, which nodded mock- 
 ingly at him from Ada's hat, reminding him of how beauti- 
 fully Hemmings had "wiped his eye" in the morning. 
 
 " You can't expect my dog to hunt if you let that brute 
 loose with him," said he, with a scowl. " I'd rather give up 
 my hare than have my dog spoiled by that good-for nothing 
 beast;" and, whistling to his retriever, he strode angrily 
 away \ Hemmings saying, as he departed : 
 
 "We'll send your hare after you by the *good-for-noLhing 
 beast,' in a minute or two." 
 
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 >4Z>^ TRISCOTT 
 
 He was soon enabled to redeem his promise, for the 
 hare was retrieved near the back of the summer-house, 
 where it was found lying, having expired in the effort to 
 jump a little ditch, through which a rippling streamlet ran 
 into the pond. The keeper's dog was despatched up the 
 pathway to his master with the hare ; and let us hope that 
 Mr. Stone, whom the "good-for-nothing beast" passed 
 upon the road with its load, felt satisfied as he saw it that it 
 was indeed his hare. This is the more important as, beinj^ 
 the last appearance of Mr. Stone in this, or, as far as we 
 know, in any other story, we should like to leave that gentle- 
 man in a good humour. 
 
 Ada and Hemmings strolled into the summer-house, 
 and, sitting down on the oak bench, they commenced 
 deciphering a Latin inscription carved deep in the panel of 
 the wall. 
 
 "Now, Captain Hemmings," said Ada, merrily, "I hope 
 you are a good Latin scholar ? I have set my heart upon 
 knowing the literal translation of this inscription, which was 
 carved by my grandfather in memory of his grandfather, I 
 believe." 
 
 To make it out, they both had to stand up, and to stand 
 pretty close together. The entire centre of the summer- 
 house was filled up by an octagonal oak table, standing on 
 one stout leg, so that it resembled a gigantic mush- 
 room. The evening was closing in, and they found it 
 necessary to place themselves between this table and 
 the wall, to read the inscription which directly faced the 
 entrance. Kneeling on the bench, they could just make 
 out the words. 
 
 Hemmings had taken Ada's hand by way of helping her 
 on to the bench, and held it tight in his own, notwithauaid- 
 
THE SUMMER-HOUSE 
 
 117 
 
 ing an ineffectual attempt on her part to withdraw it. Pro- 
 testing that he knew more about rope-ends than Latin, he 
 read out the inscription as follows : 
 
 •'/« memoriam avi nernon amid 
 
 Hoc ttctum nestoravit 
 
 Gulielmus M. R. Trefry. 
 
 An, Dom. 1855.** 
 
 "I don't think it's good Latin," said Hemmings, with a 
 puzzled and comical expression. 
 
 " I'm afraid you mean that it's too good for you. Captain 
 Hemmings, for that's the way everybody commences to 
 translate it, and I never yet have learnt its real meaning. 
 It is a bad sign to hear you begin by saying : * It's not good 
 Latin.' But I insist upon your translating it somehow, good 
 or bad ; " and Ada, who was blushing a little from the con- 
 sciousness that he was still holding her hand, laughed, and 
 again tried to draw away her hand. 
 
 Hemmings felt all his blood tingle in his veins, as he 
 gazed into that face, with its perfection of ripe young beauty, 
 and he quite forgot the inscription on the wall, until reminded 
 by Ada. 
 
 ** Go on, sir ! * In memoriam.' " 
 
 ** Yes, ' in memoriam,' that means * in memory of,' I'm 
 certain of that," said he. 
 
 " Of course ! Why, a girl could tell you that — but go 
 on to the next word, * avi.' " 
 
 *' Avi ! avi ! I don't quite know what an avi is — unless 
 it — I think it means ' my uncle,' that is to say, a pawnbroker, 
 I suppose 1 But why on earth, Miss Triscott, did your 
 grandfather erect a summer-house in memory of a pawn- 
 broker ? It is true, they are a very useful and intelligent 
 body of men, like the metropolitan police force." 
 
 
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 ADA TRI SCOTT 
 
 "What a tease you are! Dear, dear! it is too ridiculous! 
 A pawnbroker, indeed ! Why, I told you it was his grand- 
 father. I certainly do not think the commander of the 
 Adclaiife shines in Latin ; " and Ada laughed more heartily 
 than she had done for many a day past. " Now, go on ! " 
 she said, " next word ? " 
 
 " * Necnon amici,' — ' none the less a friend.* Really, 
 Miss Triscott, you are mistaken about its being his grand- 
 father. It must have been the pawnbroker, after all, for 
 you see, he was none the less a friend — that is to say, he 
 turned up trumps at the right time, excellent man I whatever 
 his exact relationship, so don't let us uiquire too closely. 
 Let us concede he was a relation and a friend — I don't 
 think I'm equal to going on with his history any further 
 to-night, though." Then changing his tone of light banter 
 for one of much more serious import, so suddenly as to 
 startle Ada, he continued: "And now. Miss Triscott, I want 
 to speak to you on an important subject. I want to ask 
 you if you will become my * relation and friend.' Yes I my 
 closest relation and dearest friend for life. Do you under- 
 stand, Ada?" 
 
 There was a magnetic spell in his glance, a mesmeric 
 power, that prevented her from moving, and withal a plead- 
 ing, earnest look that moved her. Frightened though she 
 was, she understood well enough that he was asking her to 
 be his wife. Oh, memory of Jack ! What was she to say 
 or do? It all flashed through her mind in a second — she 
 felt she still loved Jack. No ! She could not marry this 
 man — much as she liked him, much as George and everybody 
 else liked him, and thought of him — how could she? She 
 still loved Jack ! Thus ran the current of her thoughts, but 
 all she found it in her power to say was : 
 
THE SVMMER-HOUSE 
 
 1x9 
 
 •*0h, Captain Hemmings !' 
 
 "Yes, Ada," he continued, "you are perhaps surprised 
 at the suddenness with wliich I ask you to be my wife. But 
 I assure you it is no sudden fancy, no frenzy of the moment 
 that prompts me — I always liked you much. During the 
 month I have been here, there has not been a single day 
 in which I have not thought of you from morning until night 
 — not a day in which I have not lived upon your looks and 
 actions. I know, for I have watched you so carefully, that 
 you have had some sorrow hanging over you, which has 
 changed you from your former self; I have, if you will 
 excuse my saying so, had a very shrewd idea in what that 
 sorrow consisted, and that it related in some manner to a 
 man in every way unworthy of the confidence which you 
 placed in him, and who has proved his unworthiness by his 
 actions. Will you let that man stand between me and you ? 
 Why should you, after the way in which he has behaved ? 
 Oh, say that you will not, and that you will be my wife, for 
 I love you very deeply. Can you not love me in return, and 
 give me the promise I ask for ? " 
 
 Ada was silent. He waited for an answer. At last she 
 said, calmly and deliberately : 
 
 *' Captain Hemmings, I thank you for your kindness. I 
 appreciate the honour you do me very much ; but, before I 
 reply, I must ask you one question — I feel convinced you 
 will answer me truthfully. Is it true that Mr. Treleaven 
 committed the action that everybody says he did ? " 
 
 She was deathly pala as she spoke. Hemmings did not 
 hesitate a moment ere he replied : 
 
 " There can be no doubt about it." 
 
 **Then," said she, distinctly, " I will be yonr wife.'* 
 
 He leaned over and kissed her. At this moment a 
 
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 ADA T:: /SCOTT 
 
 shadow crossed the threshold of the door, and a voice 
 behind them cried out, in well-known tones : 
 
 "Good heavens, Ada, what are you doing with that 
 man ? » 
 
 She turned with a scream 5 
 
 "Jack— Mr. Treleaven!" 
 
 Hemmings also turned and said, with perfect composure : 
 
 " You'll excuse me, Mr. Treleaven, but your presence 
 at this moment is an intrusion. The lady you address in 
 such familiar tones is my affianced wife." 
 
 " Ada," said Jack, " is this — can this be true ?" And a 
 wild look of rage and despair was in his eyes. 
 
 Ada had recovered her presence of mind and her dignity. 
 She remembered the crime Jack had been guilty of, and 
 remembered what she had suffered at his hands. This 
 nerved her with courage to speak. When she did so, 
 although she was trembling all over, there was no sound of 
 tremor in her voice, no hesitation in the words that issued 
 from her blanched lips. Drawing herself up to her full 
 height, and coming round the table so that, in the waning 
 twilight of the December evening, she could distinctly see 
 those well-known and once dearly-loved features, she 
 confronted him. 
 
 "Jack Treleaven," she said, "I wonder you are not 
 ashamed to speak to me. Yes, it is true. I am Captain 
 Hemming's affianced wife." 
 
 " Oh," said Jack, putting on his most unconcern d 
 drawl, ** I am sure I am most delighted to hear the good 
 news. I congratulate you, Miss Triscott, upon having 
 obtained such an excellent parit, and such a thoroughly 
 straightforward man as a husband. And you. Captain 
 Hemmings, I must not leave without giving you my warmest 
 

 77/ A' SUMM£K-HOUSE 
 
 131 
 
 congratulations upon" — and here he drawled out and empha- 
 sized the words in the most insulting manner — " upon being 
 the most unmitigated scoundrel unhung." 
 
 And, turning, he walked quietly down the path, whistling 
 as he went : "The girl I left behind me." 
 
 Poor Ada ! her courage was all very well for the moment 
 while her virtuous indign;iLion served to maintain it ; but 
 now, as she saw the so recently found Jack retreating as 
 rapidly as he had appeared, she felt as if she had indeed 
 made a mess of the whole thing. Oh, why had he not 
 appeared five minutes sooner ? Then she might have 
 asked him everything. But still, was not Captain Hera- 
 mings the very soul of honour, and the man into whose 
 keeping she had voluntarily resigned her whole future ? He 
 surely would not have told her what was not certain I Jack 
 must be indeed the villain she had heard he was. But 
 still, how handsome he looked ! How reproachful was the 
 glance in his clear, blue eyes ere he turned away in bitter 
 sarcasm ! 
 
 Altogether, on their walk home. Captain Hemmings 
 did not have the most pleasant companion in his affianced 
 bride. But he also had something to think about which 
 perhaps prevented him from noticing Ada's preoccupation 
 — Jack's crushing insult to himself. Why had he not 
 sprung at his throat and avenged it on the spot ? The fact 
 was it had come too suddenly upon him, and Treleaven 
 was gone before he had had time to collect himself. 
 
 Well, now we will leave them to make the best of 
 their engagement, and to enjoy the few remaining days 
 they were to have in each other's society at Tristillian. 
 There are others whom we have long neglected, uud whom 
 it behoves us now to chronicle. 
 
 \*i 
 
 .'. ■ \ 
 
 1-. M 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 WHERE JACK WENT, 
 
 E must now trace the movements of our hero, 
 since we left him nearly six weeks ago, after 
 the successful capture of the salmon. This 
 feat, if it had redounded to his credit as a fisher- 
 man, had also helped considerably to lend colour to the 
 report of his having taken Laura Luscombe away from her 
 home. But we hope that whatever rumours many-mouthed 
 scandal had circulated to that effect, to the detriment of 
 his character for morality, none of our readers have for 
 a single instant had any doubt of his innocence in the 
 matter. 
 
 Poor Jack ! the stars in their courses seemed to have 
 fought against him. On the evening after the exploit, just 
 as he was sitting down to mess, a telegram was handed to 
 him. It was from his only sister, who was with their 
 mother in London. It ran as follows : 
 
 I il ' 
 
 "Uncle Charles very ill in Paris. Has wired for us 
 both. Come up by Dutchman to-morrow. Will meet you 
 at Paddington." 
 
 Sir Charles Treleaven — the uncle in question — had 
 been a diplomatist all his life, and, consequently, had lived 
 
WHERE JACK WENT 
 
 123 
 
 r I 
 
 a good deal abroad. There had never been any thought of 
 Jack's succeeding to the title until rather more than a year 
 previously, when both his cousins had been drowned while 
 boating on the Lake of Geneva. 
 
 The solitary and heart-broken father (he had been a 
 widower for many years) had come to England, where he 
 had received every consolation it was in the power of his 
 sister-in-law, Mrs. Treleaven, and of his nephew and niece 
 to afford him under the weight of his heavy calamity. To 
 Jack, as his heir, and to his niece, the old man now naturally 
 turned in his illness — a very painful and dangerous one, 
 with which he had been seized as he was going out to take 
 up once more his duties as British Ambassador in Rome. 
 
 Jack started immediately, joined his sister in London, 
 and both crossed by the same night's tidal boat from 
 Folkestone. 
 
 It was on his way up to town, and as his train was 
 waiting for a few minutes at Newton Abbot junction, that 
 Jack to his surprise saw Laura Luscombe standing on the 
 opposite platform. As he crossed the line to speak to her, 
 the train he was going on by came into the station. He 
 put her into a carriage, and entering it after her passed out 
 at the opposite door, which, as the platform runs close up 
 to both sides of the here single lines, he could easily do. 
 Ke had barely tine to speak to her, and catch his own train 
 on the other side ere it started ; while the one by which 
 Laura was travelling left the station simultaneously. 
 
 Jack had been seen to enter the train with Laura, and 
 not to emerge thence ; the lady who had seen him, and had 
 brought the news to Horrabridge, never dreamed of his 
 going through and out at the other side. Therefore, when 
 §he had said she had seen them both with her own eyes go 
 
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 iii 
 
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134 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
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 li 
 
 o(T together, she stated what she thought was strictly true. 
 This, however, was one ol those occasions upon which she 
 would have done well to have remembered the old proverb, 
 " Believe only half what you see," etc. 
 
 Unfortunately for Jack, it never crossed her mind ; con- 
 sequently, his ciiaracter was damned. In any case, his 
 disappearing on the same day as Laura Luscomhe would 
 have looked suspicious, while such conclusive evidence as 
 this would have been enough to convince even an Irish jury. 
 
 It may be remembered that after the salmon episode 
 Jack Treleaven had intended going out to explain matters 
 to Miss Watson on the very day he was compelled to leave. 
 He did not care to write about it, for it was too long a 
 story altogether, and unnecessary writing was a thing he 
 hated. He resolved to tell " Bung" the whole yarn, with strict 
 instructions to rej)eat it to Nellie Watson word for word. 
 
 Unluckily "Bung" was not at mess that evening, so 
 Jack proceeded to his quarters. After kicking three or 
 four times at the door of Lifton's room, he suddenly re- 
 membered that his chum had said something to him about 
 going away on two days' leave for rabbit-shooting. (_ 1 
 course "Bung" was gone, confound him ! He never was 
 there when he was wanted ! Well ! it could not be helped 
 Nellie must wait for his explanation ; and Jack soon forgot 
 the whole thing in the bustle of departure. 
 
 So it was that Nellie Watson never heard the true 
 version of Jack's sudden disappearance. When " Bung " 
 returned next evening, he was told that Jack had received 
 a telegram on important business ; had immediately applied 
 tor leave, and gone off. 
 
 This, then, was all he was in his turn able to com- 
 municate to Miss Watson. When, a few days afterwards, 
 
WHERE JACK WENT 
 
 I2S 
 
 true 
 lung " 
 ;eived 
 Ipplicd 
 
 com- 
 /ards, 
 
 in spite of her indignation against Jack, she asked, perhaps 
 in the hope of hearing him cleared, " What was the cause of 
 his departure ? " — truly it was l)ut an unsatisfying and un- 
 satisfactory reply that she received. On hearing it she said, 
 with a regular sniff of indignation : 
 
 " Humph ! A pretty sort of story, that ! Important 
 business, indeed ! Well, he's a bigger fool than I took him 
 for if he could not have invented soniL^thing better than 
 (hat ! — if he has got no respect for his own good name, he 
 might have some for his friends. How am I to go on lying 
 about him — as I have been doing freely — unless I know 
 what excuse he intends to make for himself when he comes 
 back ? — if he ever does ! As it is, every one knows I'm 
 lying. I don't care twopence for what he has done, but 
 1 think he is thoroughly mean to have no respect for his 
 friends' characters." And as Nellie stamped her foot with 
 rage, nearly on Lifton's toe, he observed her eyes glistening 
 with tears of indignation, or some other mixture of feelings 
 which he was not able to understand. 
 
 In good sooth, this honest girl and staunch friend had 
 indeed been, as she herself expressed it, "lying freely," in 
 defence of the absent one ; although in her own heart she 
 could not for one moment doubt but that he was as black 
 as everybody painted him. 
 
 People soon found out that it was not, as some of them 
 had supposed, the way to please her to abuse her absent 
 friend. She invented the most specious stories to account 
 for his absence and the fact of his having been seen with 
 Laura at Newton Abbot, and told them with the most 
 unblushing effrontery ; brow-beating his maligners so that, 
 if men, they were too polite to contradict her, and, if 
 women, she quite cowed them into silence. 
 
 
 'li, 
 
 
 M 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Nellie's picture. 
 
 i'.n 
 
 \1a 13 
 
 APTAIN LIFTON had got into the habit of 
 coming out to Horrabridge pretty frequently, 
 as, since Jack had gone, without his chum he 
 found time hang heavily enough on his hands 
 in Plymouth. 
 
 l-lt had received one short note from Jack a week or so 
 after he left, giving no fixed address. Thus Lifton had no 
 means of ascertaining the truth or falsehood of what 
 rsmmon report said concerning him. Captain Lifton was 
 therefore as much exercised in his mind as any one else 
 \bout the matter. It is true that he seemed to take it all 
 ^v °ry quietly ; and it has been confidentially asserted that 
 he drank more glasses '>f beer during this period than at 
 ar.y previous or subsequent epoch of his career. However, 
 although appearances were so much against his friend, 
 " Bung " reflected that on the whole it was quite possible 
 he mi^ht be blameless in the matter, and with the more 
 reason, as he had always been confidant and adviser to 
 Treleaven in bis numerous scrapes or love affairs. 
 
 " It was highly improbable," thought " Bung," as he sat 
 by an empty beer-glass, "that Jack would not have con- 
 sulted me also in this running away business. At least," 
 mused the worthy captain, " if he had not consuked me, I 
 
NELLIE' r PICTURE 
 
 127 
 
 think he would have told me if he intended carrying the 
 girl off, and that, too, in spite of the advice he might have 
 expected to get from me on the subject. No ! I don't 
 think Jack can have done it ! " and so Captain Lifton 
 settled the matter in h's own mind, troubling his head no 
 more about it, and applying himself more diligently than 
 ever to his painting. 
 
 About this time there wrs to be a local art exhibition in 
 Plymouth, to be concluded with an auction of the pictures, 
 for which both he and the two Miss Watsons had agreed to 
 prepare pictures ; so there was plenty to be done in fillmg 
 in the detail of two or three moorland scenes he had com- 
 menced. As the weather was now too rough for out-of- 
 door sketching, he kept his painting things at the Moor 
 Lodge and worked there, the three amateurs giving and 
 taking advice from each other about their respective 
 pictures. 
 
 At this time, however, Nellie became a most unpleasant 
 companion to work with. She was as fractious as a little 
 child, and Lifton soon got heartily tired of her tempers, 
 for peace and quiet he prized above all things. He began 
 to think that the clever and handsome Miss Watson 
 really was becoming sour and old-maidish. Her beautiful 
 eyes had lost their bright penetrating expression, looking 
 dull and heavy, or else blazing into sudden anger for some 
 tri.ling cause ; and " Bung," no judge of human nature, 
 wondered at the change, and turned with greater ad- 
 miration than ever to the sweet and gentle Mollie, who 
 was as usual always ready witli a pleasant laugh or jest as 
 she plodded away at her work. 
 
 Nellie and Lifton, in addition to two or three smaller 
 paintings which were finiaiicJ, were working at two coiir 
 
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 128 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 panion pictures. The sketches each had taken of Dait- 
 moor, from the summit of the Sheep Tor, formed the basis 
 of their work. Nellie^ in spite of her bad temper, got on 
 well with her picture, as what she lost one day she made 
 up the next. I.ifton's also was likely to be a success, and 
 Nellie appeared anxious, more on his account than her 
 own, to do her very best to make her companion picture 
 a success also. She allowed herself, therefore, to be 
 guided by his advice, which was always sound and to be 
 relied upon, in the preparation of her work. 
 
 They had agreed that the pictures were not to be 
 sold separately, but, whatever their respective merits might 
 prove to be, they should be sold together, or not at all, 
 and they were to go shares in the earnings. The pictures, 
 they calculated, should fetch seven or eight pounds apiece ; 
 but they had determined to take nothing less than five ; 
 Nellie declaring that that was the very lowest price at 
 which she would consent to permit her work to be criticised 
 " by an ignorant and unappreciativc public." 
 
 All went well until about ten days before the exhibition 
 was to open. The pictures were done all but a few 
 finishing touches, when one day Captain Lifton, at her 
 request, criticised Nellie's work thoroughly. He was well 
 pleased with it, as a whole, but made some slightly un- 
 favourable remarks upon the foreground. 
 
 Now this happened to be one of Miss Watson's bad 
 days, for some kind friend had written, making unpleasant 
 remarks to her on her friendship with Mr. Tieleaven. She 
 had managed to bottle up hei wrath all the morning, and 
 to control her fiery temper; but Nellie's temper was a 
 demon unused to contradiction, and, once excited, ready at 
 a touch to burst forth. 
 
NELLIE'S PICTURE 
 
 129 
 
 ution 
 few 
 
 It her 
 
 well 
 
 un- 
 
 \ bad 
 lasant 
 She 
 I, and 
 ^as a 
 |dy at 
 
 Captain Lifton's good-natured criticism was the spark 
 to the gunpowder. The blood rushed to her face, and 
 then ebbed back again, leaving it pale and composed but 
 for the ominous quivering at the corners of her mouth. 
 
 " Oh, very well. Captain Lifton ; of course, if you wish it, 
 I'll alter that foreground. I can do it best upstairs ! " So 
 saying, she snatched the picture from the easel, and — 
 swinging it about in a way that made Mol'-e cry out in an 
 agony, "For heaven's sake, Nellie, take care! You'll 
 knock a hole in it 1 " — left the room. 
 
 But Mollie need not have been so anxious ; in a few 
 minutes her sister reappeared with the picture. Walking 
 up to where she and Lifton sat side by side at work, she 
 laid ii before them saying : 
 
 " There ! I've altered it — do you think it an improve- 
 ment?" 
 
 And then — as she watched their faces of horror and 
 astonishment, and listened to their exclamations of disgust 
 and surprise — the strange girl seemed quite to recover her 
 good-humour, and, putting her hands to her sides, broke 
 into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. And now what had 
 she done? She had washed out the whole foreground; 
 not a vestige of it remained. Where it had been was now 
 a ridiculous outline, in blue paint, of a Uttle dog begging, 
 with a pipe in his mouth ! Oh, horror ! 
 
 Poor "Bung" was too disgusted to speak. It was 
 utterly spoiled now — good-bye to the exhibition, he 
 thought, and he turned to the window to hide the expres- 
 sion he feared his face would give of his outraged feelings. 
 But Mollie for once lost her temper. She abused her 
 sister as she had never done before in her life. She re- 
 proached her for her ingratitude to Captain Lifton, whose 
 
 ■4-! 
 
 'i' 
 
m 
 
 130 
 
 ADA TIUiiCOTT 
 
 labour was now all thrown away. But, as Nellie only went 
 on laughing, Mollie, who just then gave another look at 
 the little dog, found the droll expression on his face so 
 irresistibly funny that she was forced to give up scolding 
 and join in her sister's laughter ; calling out to ** Bung": 
 
 " Oh ! Captain Lifton ! You must look at the * fore- 
 ground's ' face — it's too good ! " 
 
 " Bung " glanced at it, and, in spite of his vexation, the 
 little dog was too much for him also. It was useless his 
 trying to look solemn and angry — he too could do nothing 
 but laugh. 
 
 When they had all laughed as much as they could, a 
 reaction set in — they became very grave, and sat down and 
 looked at one another. Nellie began to be very much 
 ashamed of her childish passion ; but she was not going to 
 show it, and was putting on a look of rather over-done 
 nonchalance, preparatory to makin;:^ some flippant remark, 
 when Lifton broke the silence. Takiug up his hat, he 
 said : 
 
 " I shall just have time to catch the three o'clock train 
 — good afternoon," and he was gone ; leaving his plates, 
 palettes, and pictures to look after themselves. It was the 
 best thing he couid have done under the circumstances, 
 words would have done no good ; least said soonest 
 mended, and he showed his sense in going. 
 
 It was unusual for Nellie to get the worst in a battle ; 
 but she could not help acknowledging to herself that 
 Lifton had turned the tables upon her this time, and made 
 her feel very small and mean. What a fool he must think 
 her I Why, even kind, forgiving Mollie was silent and 
 sorrowful, as she collected and put by the painting mate- 
 rials littered around. Nellie could bear it no ion^^erj 
 
NELLIE'S PICTURE 
 
 131 
 
 train 
 
 ilates, 
 
 las the 
 
 ,nces, 
 
 lonest 
 
 Rattle ; 
 
 that 
 
 made 
 
 think 
 
 It and 
 mate- 
 )n- er ; 
 
 seizing upon her miserable hnnrliwork, she hurried with it 
 to her own room, and did not issue thence that evening. 
 
 Later on, MoUie went to her door, but found it locked, 
 so sent some tea upstairs to her undeserving sister, who had 
 not, as she herself would have said, "the cheek" to ask for 
 it. Mollie returned to her own painting, and worked at it 
 until it was dark. Annoyed with her sister as she felt, and 
 sorry as she was for what she knew must have been such a 
 disappointment to Captain Lifton, it must be owned that 
 Mollie — who was ever keenly alive to a sense of the ridiculous 
 — found herself laughing, as .'he had often laughed before, 
 at her sister's extraordinary conduct. Mollie, however, 
 looked graver when she reflected on the cause that had 
 given rise to it, for she knew Nellie too well not to be per- 
 fectly aware that it was something more than pique at Lifton's 
 just criticism that made her spoil her own work, and render 
 their friend's labour fruitless. 
 
 Mollie knew well that her sister had felt, and did feel 
 keenly, the disgrace Jack Treleaven had brought upon his 
 own good name. Whether her sister had any deeper interest 
 in our hero's welfare than that of the friendship she had 
 always professed for him, Mollie knew not ; for Nellie's was 
 not a character easily read by any one, not even by a sister. 
 The recipient of many confidences, Nellie Watson rarely, if 
 ever, made any to others. 
 
 Next day, Lifton received a letter of deep contrition from 
 the fair offender. She begged of him to finish off and exhibit 
 his own picture alone. She promised to try her best to replace 
 the lost foreground in time, by working from morning till 
 night ; but, as it was most improbible she could do so, she 
 could never fed he had forgiven her unless he consented to 
 send his picture, in any case, to the cxhiuition. In a week's 
 
 
 l'\ \ 
 
 
 W: 
 
 ,. 
 
 > : 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 'I lit. 
 
II 
 
 tsa 
 
 ADA TRl SCOTT 
 
 time she would let him know if it was possible to have hert 
 ready. 
 
 During that week, Nellie worked with locked doors. At 
 the end of it, Mollie and Lifton were together admitted to 
 her room. As they gazed upon the picture on the easel by 
 the window, the disgust they had previously felt was changed 
 to delight. It was the best picture Nellie had ever painted ! 
 A new foreground indeed existed — but what a foreground ! 
 There were two figures in it — admirable portraits — her own 
 sister and Jack Treleaven, who, it may be remembered, had 
 sat idly in the heather, while she and Lifton had sketched 
 from the summit of Sheep Tor. 
 
 The two pictures were sold at the exhibition for fifty 
 guineas. Jack's recent notoriety went for something in 
 running up the price ; while the many admirers of MoUie's 
 beauty bid against each other. Thus for once good came 
 out of evii 
 
m 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 " BUNG " IN LOVE. 
 
 '^~~ n^O^?IIE success of her picture did not appear to 
 
 give Nellie much satisfaction. She said she 
 considered the price it had realised as a 
 compliment more to Mollie, whose pretty face 
 nad caused it to sell so well, than to herself, and refused to 
 accept the congratulations of her friends as due to herself in 
 the matter. 
 
 If praise was deserved by any one, said she, it was 
 deserved by Captain Lifton, who had "cowed her by his 
 awful glance " into finishing her picture in time in spite of 
 herself. She did not keep her twenty-five guineas long, 
 saying, " That she was afraid if people knew she was such a 
 'catch,' they would be wanting to marry her for money, 
 not for herself." She spent most of it in articles of wearing 
 apparel, the greater part of which she presented to her sister. 
 When Mollie protested against this generous extravagance^ 
 she was promptly told to "Shut up, as if she wanted the 
 things again, she should take 'em." 
 
 Mollie knew this to be perfectly true, and accepted them, 
 contented with the terms of presentation; as indeed most 
 sisters would have been under similar circumstances. Mollie's 
 l)icturos had also been a success. She too was high in her 
 praise of Liitoa, who, it was now evident, was not only him- 
 
 r 
 
 »rn:.^! 
 

 I 1 
 
 i 
 
 h:mt 
 
 IKII 
 
 I i 
 
 
 1 
 
 134 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 self a first-class artist, but well able to advise and instruct 
 others. Mollie had indeed thanked him very prottilv alrea«iy, 
 for the help he had given her in pointing out old faults, which 
 had arisen from her being hitherto wholly self-taught ; and 
 for showing her how best to eradicate them. 
 
 "Bung" was covered with confusion, and positively 
 blushed like a girl at her little speech. He modestly dis- 
 claimed having been of mucli use, but professed himselt 
 entirely at her service for the fuiure, in so far as lay m his 
 power. 
 
 Thenceforward Miss Mollie Watson and Captain Lifton 
 became very firm friends. To please her, he even allowed 
 himself to be initiated into the mysteries of the "trois-temps," 
 for hitherto he had not been a very good performer in the 
 terpsichorean art, and this, Mollie said, must be remedied ! 
 He proved a painstaking and apt pupil, and, at the next 
 assembly ball, his fair instructress granted him three or four 
 dances as the reward of progress. 
 
 The young subalterns, observing this, began to remark 
 that the "old sign-painter" was going it ; for they had had 
 the impertinence to confer this new title upon Lifton, since 
 he had come out so strongly in the artistic line. And 
 indeed the " old sign-painter," as he sat in his quarters by 
 himself after mess, began too to think that he was " going it." 
 He wished he had Jack there to talk to about Mollie : only, 
 of course, to ask him " if he did not think her a very charm- 
 ing and amiable young lady ? " Questions of that kind were 
 what he felt he would like to put to his " chum." He could 
 picture to himself, though, the kind of grin to be expected 
 on Mr. Jack's jovial face, on his discovering this sudden 
 interest in a young lady. 
 
 He could imagine Jack "chaffing him, and teUing 
 
 
 
'*BUNG'' IN LOVE 
 
 "35 
 
 » 
 
 him '*that it was he now who was making an ass of 
 himself;" with many other offensive remarks. All this 
 Lifton felt quite prepared to put up with, if only he could 
 have his " chum " there for half an hour, to talk to him 
 of Mollie Watson. " Yes, Bung, old fellow, you're floored 
 at last ; you should never have gone in for the sign-painting 
 trade, if you wished to preserve that weather-beaten, tough- 
 as-leather old heart of yours in its normal condition ; why, 
 Bung, old man, it's no use your denying it, for a child 
 could see it." He admitted it to himself, and in words 
 very like the above. It was that last ball that had settled 
 the matter beyond a doubt. 
 
 The floor of the " Royal Hotel " ball-room at Plymouth, 
 which was built on springs especially for the assembly 
 balls, is probably one of the best in the world. It had 
 been an entirely new sensation to Lifton to And himself 
 dancing — and dancing really well — upon its polished sur- 
 face, instead of merely lumbering away, as Jack had once 
 delicately put it, "like an old cow." To feel himself 
 gliding along — Mollie's tall form in his arms — in perfect 
 step and time with her, partaking in her pleasure, and 
 seeing that he himself contributed to it, was an entirely 
 new and quite delirious sensation. Formerly he would 
 occasionally ask Mollie or her sister for a dance as a 
 matter of duty. Now he realised, for the first time, that 
 a waltz with Mollie was something very nearly divine. 
 
 Have we not already said that she was the best dancer 
 in Plymouth ? At the above-named ball, Nellie Watson 
 had not enjoyed herself at all. She had gone to it attired 
 in an old dress, wilfully refusing to wear any of the new 
 ones she had given her sister, and she had declared 
 herself passee more persistently than ever. Even to the 
 
 T » 
 
 F'' 
 
 I \ 
 
&\ 
 
 
 136 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 supper, to which she had permitted a gray-headed major 
 to conduct her, she paid but small attention — unj;ratefully 
 telling him that "no one but Jack Trtleaven knew how 
 to feed her properly ;" for she was not afraid to mention 
 her absent friend's name ; and, on this particular occasion, 
 took an especial pleasure in doing so, lor she knew the 
 major to be inimical to Jack, entirely, it may be mentioned, 
 on Miss Nellie Watson's own account. 
 
 "And that gentleman," said the major, referring to 
 Jack, ** has just done something so startling, that I con- 
 clude. Miss Watson, he is never likely to have the 
 opportunity of * feeding ' you again ? " The major was 
 rather glad to get this chance of a cut at Jack. 
 
 "And that gentleman," replied Nellie, "has done 
 nothing at all startling, and I conclude. Major Turnfield, 
 he may have the oppuiiuuity of 'lecdiUij me * atjaia \shen- 
 ever he likes ! " 
 
 " Oh ! " said the major, stiffly ; " shall we return to 
 the ball-room ? " 
 
 " Oh 1 " said Nellie, mimicking him, " I think we 
 will!" 
 
 The major did not speak to her again for a week; 
 at the end of that time, he went over to Moor Lodge 
 and laid his elderly heart at her feet, which Nellie returned 
 to him " with thanks " on the spot. 
 
 By this time " Bung " had become thoroughly awake 
 to the fact, that he was head over ears in love with 
 MoUie ; and was in consequence in a most desponding 
 and uncomfortable frame of mind, asking himself the same 
 questions over and over again every hour of the day. Let 
 us ask the question too ! for it is easy to see what is 
 passing in the mind of that distinguished soldier, beer- 
 
 m 
 
"BUNG'' IN LOVE 
 
 137 
 
 drinker, and si|/n-painter. Does Millie love him? Does 
 MoUie — that generous-hearted, good-natured, accomplished, 
 handsome and -lappy girl — care about him ? Do her pulses 
 beat any quicker when he is by? Do the roses in her 
 cheeks become a deeper shade when he approaches ? 
 Do those merry, truthful eyes brighten, as they watch him 
 coming up the avenue to the lodge? Does the day seem 
 any fairer while he is there ? or duller when he goes ? 
 With such an open nature as hers, it would not be easy 
 for such signs of love as these, did they exist, to escape 
 notice. And yet, stay ! with an open nature like hers, 
 such signs might betoken only a kindly friendliness. It 
 is all very perplexing. In fact. Captain Lifton, if you 
 want to have an answei to your questions, you must go 
 and ask for it yourself; for we are utterly unable to obtain 
 it for you. 
 
 And this was what, shortly afterwards, Captain Lifton 
 made up his mind to do. He made up his mind he would 
 ask Mollie Watson to be his wife on the first opportunity ; 
 for when Lifton settled to ^o a thing, easy-going fellow as 
 he was, he generally did it at once, and was not given to 
 shilly-shallying over whatever matter there might be in hand. 
 And so he went out to Horrabridge next day with a fixed 
 purpose — anxious in the extreme, it is true, and fearful of 
 the result of his temerity. But it has often been said that 
 " man proposes and God disposes." Captain Lifton was to 
 prove once more the truth of the old proverb ; with the 
 exception that, this time, man did not propose ! 
 
 On arriving at Moor Lodge he found that his bird had 
 flown — there was no Mollie to propose to I She had left 
 unexpectedly to stay with some friends at a country-house 
 in Wales. The rich old lady wi h whom she had gone to 
 
 ■1 
 
 1 
 
 iM 
 
I 11 
 
 II' 
 
 I 
 
 11 
 
 i',p « 
 
 i] 
 
 I3« 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 stay was an eccentric person, wont to come at odd and out- 
 of-the-way times and seasons, and to depart in the same 
 fashion. She had appeared suddenly at the Watsons' the 
 day before, with an immense quantity of baggage, telling 
 them she had come to stay for some time with them ; but 
 that very evening Nellie, who could not stand the airs and 
 graces of " the old witch," as she called her, had managed 
 somehow to offend her, and off she went next morning, 
 taking her godchild and pet, MoUie, with her for an indefi- 
 nite period. 
 
 Poor " Bung " 1 he was excessively disappointed. He 
 did not know when he might see her again. Although he 
 was quite prepared to ask Mollie to be his wife, he shrank 
 from putting the proposition in writing. His was not the 
 pen of a ready writer, and he knew that, if he spent days 
 and nights at it, he could never convey to her by letter all 
 the love and adoration he felt for her ; and it was, more- 
 over, possible that he might, by his blundering composition, 
 make himself ridiculous in her eyes. No, he would rather 
 wait than write. And wait he did, trying to " possess his 
 soul in patience ; " but often, as the days slipped by, and 
 she did not return, losing that patience, and cursing his 
 luck and the old lady together. For the first time in his life 
 Lifton was tormented by a sensation of jealousy, not against 
 any particular person, but against mankind in general. 
 
 " Would not," he argued to himself, " Caryndyd Castle, 
 whither his Mollie had flown, be sure to be filled with men 
 for the pheasant shooting ? And would not all of them be 
 sure to fall in love with Mollie, her lovely face and gentle 
 manners ? Something probably quite different to what they 
 were accustomed to ? " For in his unreasoning jealousy 
 Lifton set down these unknown men as being all of the very 
 
 a 
 
•'BUNG** IN LOVE 
 
 «39 
 
 wont cTiaracter, tnd arcnstonr»'*d onlvto t!)e very worst form 
 of female society. " And might not Mollie in her innocence 
 be in her turn captivated by one of these Lovelaces — these 
 Roderick Randoms? Might she not — if ever she returned 
 at all — return as Mrs. Roderick Random ? and would she 
 not find out, when too late, that there was no escape from 
 the villain ? Confound him I " said Lifton, clenching his 
 teeth as he thought of his imaginary enemy, who was, in his 
 excited imagination, rapidly assuming a tangible form. 
 " Confound him I Only let me get hold of him ! I'll teach 
 the scoundrel that he shall not wreck her happiness for 
 nothing, no matter whether the law gives me a right to take 
 the matter into my own hands or not !" And in his imaginary 
 vindication of the law, having nearly reached the Divorce 
 Court by this time, this usually undemonstrative, good- 
 tempered man gave the table such :i kick as not only upset 
 it, with ink-pot and everything on it, but capsized it with 
 such a noise that it brought in his next-door neighbour at 
 ** the double " to see •' what the blazes " was the matter 1 
 
 On entering, this gentleman was naturally much sur- 
 prised to see the quiet ** Bung," the peaceful sign-painter, 
 standing with clenched fists and flushed cheeks, apostro- 
 phising and kicking his fallen foe — the table — while the ink 
 meandered in a winding stream over the floor. He looked 
 at " Bung " for a moment, and then, turning, rushed from 
 the room, with all possible despatch, to the mess, to tell the 
 fellows there that '* Bung " had gone mad, and was fighting 
 with his table. 
 
 " Hooray 1 " roared the assembled subalterns. ** Let'i 
 go and see the sport ! " 
 
 " I'll back the table !" cried one. 
 
 «* I'll back ' Bung ' ! " cried another. 
 
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 ■ i I 
 
140 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
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 V; 
 
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 " Bung," who heard them coming in tT.>ops, whooping 
 and yelling, had only just time to elude them by flying 
 down the servant?,* staircase, Ic ving his room, with its 
 already maltreated furniture, to their tender mercies. 
 
 Is it not strange that the passion of love should have 
 such a destructive tendency in some temperaments? It 
 may be remembered that in Jack Treleaven it had taken 
 the form of breaking or teying to break telescopes, while 
 ROW we see that the same cause had, in his friend, deve- 
 loped the variety of kicking and cursing his articles of furni- 
 ture " lor the'r d d villainy !" 
 
 But we left " Bung's " room in possession of the gilded 
 youth of the regiment, and, the afternoon being wet, they 
 determined not to be disappointed of their " lark." They 
 had chevied his flying coat-tails down the back stairs, but 
 he had too much of a start for them, and was out past the 
 guard and into the street too soon for recapture. The 
 young officers, therefore, went to Lifton's room and held a 
 formal court of inquiry upon the condition it was found in. 
 They said " They considered this only due to themselves as 
 a first step ; " so that, in case anything was found broken 
 when they left, it should be carefully recorded thai, " in the 
 opinion of the court, Captain Lifton, alias Bung, alias the 
 sign-painter, was wholly and solely to blame, and liable for 
 all expenses in the matter." The opinion of the court 
 having been written out in a large and legible hand, upon 
 the best writing paper they could find, was nailed upon the 
 door and signed by the president and members. Another 
 copy of the " proceedings of the board " was pinned to the 
 sheets ; for, to be strictly formal and busiuess-like, the pro- 
 ceedings were in duplicate. 
 
 Then a search was instituted for liquor. A bottle of 
 
^^Mr:« 
 
 *^BUNG'' IN LOVE 
 
 141 
 
 whisky having been discovered, was emptied to their absert 
 host's health, then placed at the foot of the bed, filled with 
 water, as a hot-bottle. Tooth-brushes, hair-brushes, and 
 combs were collected, put to bed, and tucked in, but net 
 the sponge — " Bung " was too popular for that — nor wer- 
 any of his painting materials touched ; but every other 
 article in the room of which it was possible to " make hay " 
 was made hay of. 
 
 LaiJtly, a " mawkin," or lay figure, was constructed on 
 the substratum of one of the easels. Dressed in a pair 
 of regimental trousers, with a corporation formed of a 
 pillow, draped with a great-coat, and crowned with Lifton's 
 once best high hat, this weird figure stood directly opposite 
 the door, defiantly brandishing the telescope over its head, 
 waiting to welcome Lifton on his return. 
 
 After dark, •' Bung " came quietly back to his quarters, 
 and the pleasant surprise as he opened the door was quite 
 a success, for it was a splendid " mawkin " that greeted 
 him. 
 
 Truly that happy fellow, the British subaltern, is often 
 an ingenious dog, and to bring out his ingenuity there is 
 •nothing like a wet aitciuuua. 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^h 
 
w ^A 
 
 1 > 
 
 II I 
 
 f. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIL 
 
 IK PARIS. 
 
 HILE events had thus been following their 
 cJ^ own course in Plymouth and its environs, 
 Jack Treleaven had arrived in Paris, and we 
 must now trace his proceedings from that 
 time until his unexpected reappearance in front of the 
 summer-house in the " Long " plantation at Tristillian. 
 
 On their arrival in Paris, Jack and his sister had joined 
 their sick uncle at the well-known " Hotel Meurice " in the 
 Rue Rivoli. Here they remained about a fortnight, while 
 the sick man hovered between life and death. It was the 
 first time in his life that Jack had been brought face to face 
 with sickness in an a{;gravated form; but, thougi utterly 
 inexperienced, he, from sheer goodness of heart, rose to 
 the occasion as if he had been a born nurse, and, with his 
 sister, kept watch and ward night and day in the sick- 
 room. Jack deserves all the more credit for this when 
 we remember all the attractions the gay city has for a 
 young man. But, pleasure-loving as he was. Jack Tre- 
 leaven was far too fond of his sister to let her perform all 
 th ; trying offices of a sick-room, while he amused himself. 
 Therefore, resolutely resisting the seductions of Paris, he 
 passed more of his time indoors thaii ever he had done 
 before in his life. 
 
IN PARIS 
 
 143 
 
 For once, strange to say, the man proved the better 
 nurse, and Jack seemed able to manage his dying uncle 
 and fulfil all his requirements better than his sister could 
 do. The invalid, recognising this with all the selfishness 
 of sickness, was never happy unless his nephew was in the 
 room. So Jack had more than his share of the work, but; 
 being really fond of his uncle, he did it willingly. 
 
 Paris was, at this season, rapidly refilling, the nioiide 
 md demi-monde returning after their relaxations at la luasse 
 and the watering-places ; and the theatres were again all 
 in full swing. Jack's sister insisted one evening on her 
 brother's taking an outing, for he was looking jjale and 
 done-up from the unaccustomed confinement. She had 
 herself, in consequence of his having proved such a good 
 liUrse, been able to go a couple of times with some English 
 friends to the play, whereas he had never once left the 
 house by night and but seldom in the daytime. 
 
 Dora was just then being played at the Vaudeville, 
 and Jack, who had seen it in its English form, Diplotnacy^ 
 determined to compare the two. Picking up a friend at 
 the Washington Club — for, wherever Jack went, he found 
 old friends springing up round hnn like mushrooms — they 
 repaired, after a comfortable repast, to the above-named 
 pretty little theatre. 
 
 Jack was a good French scholar, having passed several 
 years abroad before joining the army; he was, therefore, 
 at first too much inieiested in the piece to take much 
 notice of the people. During the entr'acte, however, 
 following the custom of Rome, he and his friend took a 
 turn in the Joyer^ and then, with a last look round the 
 house, resumed their seats. 
 
 "Look," exclaimed tiie latter, as they did so; "there's 
 
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144 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 I I 
 
 a very pretty girl up there, in a box to the left, talking to a 
 dark, good-looking fellow. Do you know them, Treleaven ? 
 They look English, and have been watching us the lasi 
 minute or two." 
 
 Jack looked, and instantly recognised Hemmings as 
 one of the occupants of the box ; of the lady's face he 
 only just caught a glimpse, for she had drawn back behind 
 the curtain and remained there. In that moment he had 
 been struck by the extraordinar}' .ikeness this young lady 
 bore to some one he knew. He could not for the life 
 of him think who it was she resembled so closely; but 
 taking her for some relation of Hemmings', probably his 
 sister, he gave up puzzling his brain, and turning to the 
 stage, became again absorbed in the performance, to which 
 he was paying great attention, lest his unaccustomed ear 
 should lose any of those equivoques and jeux-de-mots^ which 
 make a French play so sparkling. His friend, meantime, 
 had been intently watching the box which contaim^d the 
 Englishman and the young lady, by whom he seemeo to be 
 quite fascinated. As the curtain fell on the closing scene, 
 and the lights were again turned on full, he elbowed Jack 
 sharply, saying : 
 
 "Look, now! isn't she awfully pretty? The best- 
 looking girl I've seen in Paris, by Jove ! Such a fresh, 
 clear, English complexion she has, too — so different from 
 these sallow Frenchwomen." 
 
 Jack raised his eyes to the box, and this time plainly 
 saw the young lady, who was so much the object of his 
 friend's admiration. She had stood up to leave, and her 
 profile was turned towards them, showing to perfection the 
 graceful contour of her full white throat and small shapely 
 Jiead, with its sunny hair twisted into a knot low on the 
 
IN PARIS 
 
 145 
 
 neck. He could no longer doubt who it was she resembled. 
 It was — it must be — Laura Luscombe herself ! Jack felt 
 certain of it for a moment, but the girl left the box without 
 turning her full-face towards him, and, after an instant's 
 reflection, he dismissed the idea as preposterous. Had 
 not Laura told him herself, not a fortnight ago, as they 
 returned to the mill from that memorable fishing expe- 
 dition, that she had obtained a situation as governess 
 to a family in London, and had he not met her on her 
 way there at Newton Abbot junction ? Had he not him- 
 self, at the mill-gate — noticing how down-in-the-mouth she 
 appeared to be at leaving home for the first time — made her 
 promise, if ever she was in difficulty or wanted a friend, to 
 write to him ? 0\ no ! The idea of little Laura Luscombe 
 — the "maid of the mill" — as a beautifully-dressed young 
 lady, in a box at a Parisian theatre, was quite too ridiculous. 
 
 Still our hero felt inclined to try to get a closer in- 
 spection of the young lady, who looked so like what Laura 
 might have looked had she been born in a different station 
 of life. Of course, when he met Hemmings he could 
 easily find out who alie was, but in the meantime he and 
 his friend might as well have another look at her. But by 
 the time they had pushed their way through the crowded 
 doorways, Hemmings and the young lady, having left a few 
 minutes sooner, had disappeared. 
 
 Jack and his friend laughed good-humouredly at their 
 disappointment, and then — according to the correct Parisian 
 programme for gentlemen — strolled down to the celebrated 
 Cafe Americain to obtain un grog, and a view of all the 
 pretty and faultlessly attired ladies to be found chez Peter's, 
 for an hour after the close of the theatres and places of 
 auiusement 
 
 ; i 
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 M I 
 
146 
 
 ADA TR I SCOTT 
 
 Seated at one of the little tables under the verandah, 
 facinfi; the boulevard, Jack presently saw Hemmings stroll 
 in, apparently bent on seeing and being seen. Jack asked 
 the commander of the Adelaide to join them at table, and 
 introduced his friend. After the usual inquiry, " What 
 brings you to Paris?" made by all Englishmen on first 
 meeting in that city, without in the least caring what answer 
 they get ; and after the usual unsatisfactory replies, which 
 are nevertheless perfectly satisfactory, the conversation 
 turned upon the play. 
 
 " I really think," said Jack, " that if the piece is by 
 Sardou, as I believe it is, it's about the best thing he has 
 written. Don't you, Hemmings?" 
 
 " Upon my word, I don't know," said the latter. "To 
 tell the truth, I don't understand French well, and was not 
 paying much attention to it." 
 
 " No," laughed Jack, " you had something better to do. 
 That was a very pretty young lady you had with you. Do 
 you know, if you will excuse my saying so, she reminded 
 me very much of some one we both know — Laura Luscombe, 
 of Denham Bridge. May I ask who she is ? " 
 
 At the mention of Laura's name, Hemmings, by a 
 sudden movement of his hand, had managed to capsize his 
 long tumbler of grog on to the stone floor, smashing it to 
 bits of course. He stooped to pick up the pieces, though 
 an obsequious waiter had hurried up to remove the broken 
 glass on hearing the crash. 
 
 " What an awkward chap I am ! " said he, composedly, 
 addressing Jack. " I beg your pardon, what were you 
 sa3'ing when I broke the tumbler? Something about Laura 
 Luscombe, wasn't it ? " 
 
 Jack nodded assent. 
 
]ir.. 
 
 IN PARIS 
 
 U7 
 
 "Ah !" said Hemmings, with a thoughtful smile, "you 
 think so ? Well, now you speak of it, I do see a likeness to 
 the miller's little girl in my sister-in-law ; about the eyes, 
 don't you think ? " looking inquiringly at Jack. 
 
 " I did not particularly notice her eyes," said Jack, 
 "she was too far off; but I thought at first that it actually 
 was Miss Luscombe herself." 
 
 " It is very funny," said Hemmings. " I must tell 
 Katherine what a pretty girl she has been taken for." 
 
 Here Jack's friend, who was a member of the Embassy, 
 struck into the conversation. 
 
 " If, Captain Hemmings, you and your sister-in-law are 
 making any stay in Paris, I shall be very happy to send her 
 a card for a ball at the Embassy this week. I happen to 
 have one still left at my disposal." 
 
 Strange that this gentleman's friendship for Jack should 
 prompt him thus to offer a chance acquaintance what many 
 ladies in Paris were sighing for in vain ! Yet such is human 
 nature, that generous actions are frequently done from an 
 equally unknown motive. 
 
 Hemmings was ungrateful enough not to appear to 
 appreciate this kind offer for his " sister-in-law," as he 
 ought to have done. Hastily finishing off the now renewed 
 grog, he said, " He was afraid she would not be in Paris so 
 long " ; then, remembering an appointment, bid Jack good 
 night and left, forgetting to mention where he was staying. 
 
 Jack felt a Httle annoyed at his sudden departure, as he 
 had not had time to inquire about Plymouth friends. He 
 was also rather surprised at its suddenness, for a moment 
 previously Hemmings had been sitting like a man who had 
 no intention of stirring for an hour or so. 
 
 Do you think, Treleaven, that there's anything queer 
 
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 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
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 about that fellow's sister-in-law? " remarked Jack's friend as 
 soon as Hammings had gone. "Did you notice what a 
 hurry he was in to be off when I offered him the ball-ticket 
 for her ? By Jove ! she's a very ;^'itty girl, though. I wish 
 she was coming to the ball, whoever she may be." 
 
 Jack could not understand it, but he kept his thoughts 
 to himself, and soon after they left the caf6. Once back 
 in the " Hotel Meurice," he had enough to do in the sick- 
 room witiioat bothering his head any further with Hem- 
 mings and his female relations. 
 
 A few days after this the old gentleman took a sudden 
 :\xixx ior the better, and, although fully conscious that he could 
 never recover, he insisted on being taken by easy stages to 
 Florence, where, many years ago, his young wife had died 
 and been buried. Here, after lingering tor about a fort- 
 night longer, he too departed for the undiscovered country, 
 lovingly watched and tended to the last by Jack and his 
 sister. And now, at the age of twenty-seven, Jack Tre- 
 leaven found himself a baronet, and the owner of several 
 thousands per annum. 
 
 At this crisis of his life who did his thoughts first fly to? 
 Was it to Nellie Watson, or was it to Ada Triscott ? The 
 one we have heard him p'-opose to? We never heard 
 him propose to the other; we only knov that once, on 
 board a ship, he had serious thoughts of doing bO. We 
 are inclined to think that this latter was the young lady 
 to whom his thoughts had flown, and who, notwithstanding 
 that other proposal, he hoped would soon consent to s? are 
 his title and wealth. But, before returning to England, 
 Jack had heard from " Bung," to whom he had written 
 from Florence, telling his whereabouts and his dui.n^s. 
 Lifton, in his letter, gave ihe whole story of Laura's dia- 
 
 i v-: 
 
 V > .H 
 
 ■r" M^ 
 
IN PARIS 
 
 M9 
 
 appearance and Jack's implication therein, begging him to 
 lose no time in setti:ig himself right with the Watsons and 
 other friends. 
 
 The light had at last broken upon Jack. He saw it all 
 now, and in the midst of his horror and disgust he could 
 not help smiling at his own simplicity in not having seen or 
 guessed something of the sort in Paris. Of course that was 
 Laura herself at the theatre — how could he have mistaken 
 her for a moment ? That blackguard Hemmings ! He 
 remembered the breaking of the glass, and his confused 
 mannei in refusing the ball-ticket. Why, even his friend 
 at the time had suspected something wrong about the lady. 
 Yet he himself, foolishly, had suspected nothing unusual. 
 
 Burning with rage and indignation, the new-fledged 
 baronet hastened back to England as soon as possible after 
 the funeral of his uncle. 
 
 
 I! 
 
 : I 
 
 'i\ 
 
CHAPTER XVIIl 
 
 I ., 
 
 J i •' 
 
 II . 
 
 iii-.Siii /:r 
 
 |l i 
 
 JACK S RETURN. 
 
 pZ<^\J^^ FEW days after his return, and as soon as the 
 law business relating to his succession to his 
 uncle's title and estates had been settled, Sir 
 John Treleaven ran down to Plymouth to see 
 his friend Lifton. On arriving in the mess of his regiment, 
 Jack was heartily welcomed by those of his brother-officers 
 who were not away on leave. They one and all seemed 
 glad of his good fortune. Although he was clad in deep 
 mourning, these gentlemen did not think it necessary to 
 make any great show of condolence with him under the 
 circumstances. 
 
 "So the old chap is gone, is he. Jack?" said one. 
 " Sorry he's dead, of course." said another ; " still, it was 
 very considerate of him to leave his money to a fellow 
 who'll know how to spend it. And you're a baronet, too 1 
 Gad, there'll be no holding you now, I suppose. By the 
 way, perhaps you'll kindly inform us — officially, of course — 
 how we are to address you ? We shall have to be very 
 respectful to a man of your exalted rank." 
 
 And Jack, in spite of his trappings of woe, very nearly 
 found himself engaged in a bear-fight five minutes after 
 entering the ante-room, owing to the audacious attempt of 
 one of his brother-subalterns to " bonnet the barrow-night." 
 
JACK'S RETURN 
 
 «$« 
 
 He did not, moreover, escape some chaffing remarks in 
 reference to the late escapade with which he was generally 
 credited. His brother-officers considered Jack had laid 
 hims,elf open to this kind of thing by his clumsiness in 
 being found out ; for, although his uncle had died, there 
 was not one of them who imagined for a moment that his 
 uncle's illness was the cause of his sudden departure on 
 leave. 
 
 After the circumstantial account every one had heard of 
 his having been seen with Laura at Newton Abbot junction 
 — reports he had not as yet contradicted, it must be re- 
 membered — it was not strange that these reports were 
 popularly believed. He now most emphatically denied 
 any connection whatever with Laura's elopement, but was 
 too generous to say thus publicly that he had found out 
 accidentally who was the companion of her flight. 
 
 His assertions of innocence were met with cries of, 
 *' Go it, old fellow ! Quite right to say you did not do 
 it ! " accompanied by more or less incredulous smiles. The 
 fact was that not one of them cared two straws about the 
 matter ; it did not concern them. If one of their number 
 had taken it into his head to run off with a whole harem of 
 women, probably the only remark made upon the subject 
 would have been that '* they hoped he would be able to 
 keep them." 
 
 One of the great advantages of our regimental system is 
 that officers never concern themselves about one another's 
 private affairs. It is indeed surprising to find how little 
 two men, who have lived in the same regiment for years, 
 will know of each other's means or family connexions, or 
 indeed, sometimes, whether they are respectively married 
 or single. Of course, if Jones has a wife, and brings her to 
 
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 ADA TRI SCOTT 
 
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 live with him at the place where his regiment is stationed, 
 everybody knows it. Well and fiood ! But if, on the 
 other hand, Jones gets married and goes to India, leaving 
 his wife behind with her relations for a year or two, half the 
 men in the regiment probably would know nothing, and 
 care less, about Jones's domestic relations, and certainly 
 never dream of asking a question concerning them. 
 
 So long as a man behaves liimself as a gentleman in his 
 relations with his brother officers, that is all they want, 
 without troubling themselves about each other's private 
 business. Even if intimate with a man, you might live with 
 him for years, never knowing whether he had father or 
 mother, sister or brother, unless he himself volunteered the 
 information. Curiosity is not by any means the failing of 
 the British officer as a class. 
 
 Escaping shortly from the mess, the two friends are 
 once more seated in " Bung's " quarters, which, by-the-bye, 
 are in a much more orderly condition than when we last 
 saw them. 
 
 " Well, old fellow ! so you're back again, owner of a 
 title and estate in North Devon, and six or seven thousand 
 a year. Upon my word. Jack, it will be a change for you, 
 who were always so hard up. Now, what are you going to 
 do ? Take my advice, be careful at the start, and don't 
 make a fool of yourself. It's easy enough, you know, * old 
 son,' when one comes suddenly into unexpected riches. 
 I hope you won't leave the service. However, we can 
 talk of that by-and-by. There is something else to be 
 considered. You know, I suppose, that, rightly or wrongly, 
 you are ' dished ' with all your female acquaintance ? '* 
 
 "Yes, 'Bung,' I'm afraid so; but I hope when I see 
 them I can explain matters easily, so as to clear myself, at 
 
JACK'S RETURN 
 
 «$3 
 
 all events, with those in whose eyes I wish to appear clean. 
 Ladies are not like those asses in the ukss jusl now, who 
 judge one by their own standard. I am sure tliat neither 
 the Watsons nor the Triscotis will doubt me for a moment 
 when I tell them that 1 had notliing whatever to do with 
 that poor girl's abduction. I may, however, find it difficult 
 to avoid implicating another in the matter, and, although 
 the blackguard deserves to be shown up, that is not my 
 business any more than 1 suppose he thought it was his 
 to contradict the rumour about me, and thereby tlinnv 
 suspicion on himself. You may be surprised to hear wiiose 
 fault it is that I have got such a bad name, while not a 
 soul suspects him in the remotest degree. You know hiui 
 well — Hemmings is the man with whom Laura Luscuuibc 
 is living at present." 
 
 " Hemmings I Are you sure ? Why, he is the very 
 man who always remarked to me that it was a pity yo i 
 were so thick with the *maid of the mill,' as Miss Waisun 
 called her. He used to say he was afraid you would 
 damage yourself by it with the Triscotts. liii. is slaying 
 with them now at Tristillian. By Jove, Jack, 1 hope you 
 
 are mistaken ; if not, he must be a d d scoundrel, and 
 
 one who would be capable, by hints, of doing you no end 
 of harm. But how do you know ? " 
 
 "How? Curse him, there is no mistake. 1 saw her 
 with him in a theatre at Paris; but, although so struck 
 with the resemblance of the lady with him to Laura that I 
 asked him who she was, on his telling me she was his 
 sister-in-law, I thought no harm. It was only on receipt 
 of your letter, a fortnight after, that I knew he was a 
 liar, and that it must have been Laura herself whom I 
 saw, dressed so smartly, sitting in the box witii him at 
 
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 154 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 
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 the Vaudeville. Staying with the Triscotts now, is he? 
 
 D n him i then J wonder what he's done with that 
 
 poor girl ? Deserted her already, I suppose ; and I dare 
 say the blackguard is making up to Ada now ! " Jack's 
 face was while with passion, but he spoke calmly. " I 
 liardly know what is best to be done," he continued. 
 " Miss Triscott showed me in such a marked manner that 
 she wished to have nothing more to do with me, that I do 
 not fancy intruding myself upon her society any more ; 
 but still it would be my duty to warn her against Hem- 
 mings. I never was an informer yet though, * Bung,' old 
 ni?n, and I don't care to commence the trade now, espe- 
 cially as it might seem done out of spite, even if I was 
 believed. Seeing the ingenuity this infernal scoundrel has 
 displayed, as what you tell me yourself shows, what is more 
 probable than that he has poisoned all their ea'-s against 
 me, so that they will not beUeve one word I say?" 
 
 "I think, Jack, you ought to go out to Horrabridge, 
 see Nellie Watson, and tell her everything. She has been 
 the one friend who, in your absence, has stuck up for you 
 light and left; although, as she herself told me, and as I 
 could not help acknowledging, nothing seemed clearer than 
 that you w jre to blame. What an ass you were not to give 
 me an address, or leave word for me of the cause of your 
 departure ! All this might have been cleared up long ago 
 — a^ any rate, with the Watsoris. iiut what is passed can- 
 not be helped. Let us look at the present, and let me tell 
 you that I believe Nellie Watson to be the best friend you 
 have in the world besides myself, and you owe it to her to 
 show her some little gratitude for fighting your battles m 
 your abseuv^e. She has not improved in temper, though, I 
 warn you," added J^ifton, with a smile, as he recollected 
 
 i li 
 
JACK'S RETURN 
 
 155 
 
 the episode of the picture ; " still I think you understand 
 her temper betcer than any one else, and you cannot do 
 better than take her advice as to what you shall do about 
 the Triscotts." 
 
 " Very well, ' Bung,' I will go out to see her to-morrow 
 morning. And now, eld man, tell me all about yourself 
 and what you have been doing all this time." 
 
 " There is not much to relate," said " Bung," somewhat 
 sheepishly ; " but I suppose I may as well take the bull by 
 the horns and tell ' the truth, the whole truth, and nothing 
 but the truth ' at once, to save complications." 
 
 "Come on, out with it, old fellow!" said Jack, en- 
 couragingly. 
 
 " Well, to begin with, I'm in love ; to go on with, I'm 
 desperately in love ; and to wind up with, I'm miserably 
 in love;" and poor "'Bung" did look wobegone as he 
 uttered the last sentence. 
 
 "Ha! ha! ha! Ho! ho! ho!" laughed Jack, for- 
 getting all his own troubles at the sight of "Bung's" 
 solemn face as he made this most unlooked-for announce- 
 ment. Jumping up, he brought down his hand between 
 his friend's shoulders with a bang that took all the breath 
 out of his lungs. " Bravo ! go it, old man I The steady 
 old 'Bung' — who never yet flirted more than was sate — 
 nobbled at last ! Ho I ho ! ho . Ha ! ha ! ha ! " (Anothei 
 hearty bang.) 
 
 " Confound you, Jack ! Leave me alone, will you, you 
 fool ! And don't stand laughmg there like a hyena ! " 
 cried " Bung," with assumed indignation. " If you think 
 I am going to be downtrodden by a bloated aristocracy 
 for imitating their follies, you're mistaken. So you'd belter 
 look out." 
 
 4-1 is 
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 156 
 
 ADA TR I SCOTT 
 
 Seeing the bloated aristocrat again advancing for an- 
 other bang, Captain Lifton doubled his own by no means 
 small fist as a preventive measure. This had a salutary 
 efiFect, and brought his tormentor to reason. They re- 
 sumed their seats, Jack saying : 
 
 *' Come, forgive me, old fellow. You must not grudge 
 me that laugh, for it's the first I've had since I saw you 
 last. So you are in love? Well ! I'm deliglited to hear it, 
 for it shows that >ou, at least, have taken a step in the 
 right direction during the last month. But let's hear who 
 the young lady is — I'm dying to know that." 
 
 " Behave yourself like a Christian, and you shall hear. 
 I don't think I need dwell upon her good looks and good 
 qualities to you, when I tell you who she is — but I believe I 
 won't tell you, after all ; it's no subject for laughter ; " for 
 Jack was still smiling broadly. 
 
 "Yes, tell me, 'Bung,' old boy — don't be shy — out with 
 the lady's name. Surely, if she's worth loving, you ought 
 not to be ashamed of her name." 
 
 This last had the desired effect in overcoming Lifton's 
 shyness; for such it was that prevented his naming his 
 inamorata. 
 
 " Her name, Jack, is Mollie Watson ; but I do not know 
 if she cares about me or not; she was spirited away to some 
 beastly place in Wales cdled Caryndyd, before I had time 
 to ask her that question." 
 
 Jack had jumped out of his chair as if with the intention 
 of repeating the banging process once more ; but a warning 
 twinkle in Lifton's eye, as he seized the poker and began 
 raking the bottom bar of the fireplace, told him that the 
 long-suffering *' Bung " had got a little tired of this sort of 
 congratulation ; so he contented himself with wringing his 
 
JACK'S RETURN 
 
 '57 
 
 friend's hand warmly, and saying, with much real feeling and 
 iLindness : 
 
 " Well, all I can say is, I sincerely hope she does, for I 
 believe you could not love a better woman, nor— I say it 
 with honest conviction— she a better man ; " and the two 
 fhendi sat up yarning away until tar into the night. 
 
 \ 
 
 ; J-V; 
 
 i; 'r 
 
 *. » 
 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE ENCOUNTEF. WITH FOX. 
 
 fcl }' ! 
 
 '■} ;i3 
 
 ■i: I 
 
 m 
 
 Vm 
 
 ^^W r^^HE next morning after breakfast, having an hour 
 or two to spare, before the train by which he 
 intended going to Horrabridge would start, 
 Jack went out for a stroll, while his brother- 
 officers were engaged in morning parade and other regi- 
 mental duties. Having sauntered out of what is known as 
 the north-eastern barrie'" gate of the Raglan barracks, Jack 
 did not seem to know exactly what to do willi himself, 
 and stood irresolute for a minute or two, looking in the 
 direction of the walk across the people's park, which he 
 had so often traversed going to and from Tamar Terrace. 
 It had lost its attraction for him ; the house in Tamar 
 Terrace was closed, as was Ada's heart, against him, .ind 
 the walk through the park looked bleak and deserted in 
 the chilly December morning. 
 
 Jack turned, with a sigh, in the opposite direction, down 
 through Fore Street, the principal street in Devonport, to 
 the dockyard gates. Although so close to the barrack-walls, 
 this was almost a terra incognita to our hero. In fact, with 
 the exception of having once driven through it in a cab on 
 his way to a ball at the Devonport "Royal Hotel," it is doubt- 
 ful if he had ever been down that way before. Indeed, this 
 street is nothing but a haunt for Jews, p.i\vnbrokers, sailors, 
 
(Ji 
 
 THE ENCOUNTER IVITH FOX 
 
 159 
 
 outfitters, et hoc gemts omne. Except to the seeker after old 
 curiosities, or the ready-made clothing in its numerous slop- 
 shops, Fore Street, Devonport, presents few attractions to 
 the public. Still strolling along, smoking his cigar, and 
 indolently looking in at the windows at the strange sea- 
 faring gear, or valuable odds and ends brought by sailors 
 from foreign countries, only to be deposited in the pawn- 
 shop, Jack insensibly reached the other end of this street, 
 in which he was probably, at that hour of the day, the only 
 idle wayfarer. He was roused from the reverie into which 
 he had fallen, by the words, spoken in an authoritative but 
 civil voice : 
 
 " No smoking allowed in here, sir." 
 
 Looking up, he perceived that he was entering the dock- 
 yard gates. 
 
 "Capital," thought Jack, "here, at last, is the opportunity 
 J have intended for so long to lake, of visiting the dockyard; 
 this will pass an hour very well." 
 
 On his making known to the man at the gate that he 
 was an officer, and extinguishing his cigar, he was allowed 
 to proceed, although indeed the official had not thought it 
 necessary to inquire whether he belonged to the army or 
 not, the fact being too self-evident. 
 
 After examining the workshops, where he was scorch, d 
 by the molten metal and deafened by the noise of ihe 
 steam-hammers, he was glad to escape to the water-side. 
 Here he looked curiously at the men-of-war, in every stage 
 of dismantlement and every stage of refitting, as they lay in 
 the different dry and wet docks. In one of trie latter a ;-hip 
 was lying evidently just ready for sea. Staiidir^g on the 
 shore. Jack was able to sec but a portion of her Cclks, \a-x 
 what he did see was sufliciviit, witii his so^d.^ib (.)c lo; 
 
 'f 
 
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 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 neatness and order, to make him wish for more, for every- 
 thing looked bright and clean as a new pin. Her crew, too, 
 as far as he could judge from the number of men he saw on 
 her decks, seemed to be all aboard — in fact, she was only 
 waiting for the tide now at half-flood to rise to haul out into 
 the Sound previous to sailing. 
 
 Stepping over the gangway — a mere plank without a 
 rail — on to the deck, Jack inquired of a tall man in uniform, 
 which he tOvok to be that of an officer: 
 
 " Pray, what is the name of this ship, and is it permis- 
 sible to go over her ? " 
 
 " H.M.S. Hesperus is the name, sir. As the captain is 
 on board, I am not sure whether you can see her or not. 
 If you'll give me your card, I'll ask the officer of the 
 watch.'* 
 
 As he spoke, the man, whom Jack now perceived to be 
 a warrant, not a commissioned officer, from the buttons 
 instead of lace on his sleeves, eyed Sir John Treleaven 
 closely, while to Jack himself there seemed a ring in the 
 voice and a look in the face of the person addressing him 
 that was quite familiar. He gave his card. The man 
 glanced at it — to satisfy his curiosity, thought Jack — before 
 taking it to the officer of the watch, and, stopping short, 
 read, in a strange voice, which seemed more than ever 
 familiar to Jack : 
 
 " Sir John Treleaven.' 
 
 Jack elevated his eyebrows in haughty surprise at what 
 he considered a piece of unwarrantable impertinence. 
 
 ** Are you the officer who used to come to Mr. Triscott's 
 house in Tamar Terrace, or his brother?" went on the man. 
 
 As he spoke, it slowly dawned upon Jack's mind that the 
 speaker, although greatly changed by his dress and having 
 
THE ENCOUNTER WITH FOX 
 
 i6i 
 
 shaved off his beard, was the same William Fox whom he 
 had often seen in the above-named house. 
 
 " Yes, of course I am the :ame Mr. Treleaven." 
 
 The words were hardly uttered, when Fox sprang at him 
 and seized him by the throat. 
 
 " Thank God you have come to me ! You infernal 
 scoundrel ! Providence has sent you, that I may avenge her." 
 
 Jack heard the words hissed in his ear, but so sudden 
 was the attack, that before he could recover breath he was 
 borne back to the gangway by his powerful assailant, whose 
 evident intention was to throw him headlong into the dock. 
 But self-preservation is one of the first laws of nature, and 
 almost instinctively the young officer had wrenched one arm 
 free and struck out violently, hitting his foe a tremendous 
 blow straight between the eyes. He might as well have 
 struck a stone wall. Fox, in his maniacal passion, did not 
 seem to feel it, but with tightened grasp forced young 
 Treleaven back more rapidly towards the water. Jack's 
 presence of mind, momentarily lost, had returned, and he 
 knew that he must employ stratagem, to have any chance 
 against the giant strength of his adversary. He seized Fox 
 by the throat in a grip of iron. He was now being forced 
 almost into the opening in the ship\ side. Contriving for 
 a second to get a purchase agrinst the bulwark, which thus 
 left him free to use his legs, he entwined them with those of 
 his enemy, encircling him at the same time with his dis- 
 engaged right arm. He saw that, if he would not go over- 
 board, there was but one chance left him. He seized his 
 opportunity, and, with an almost superhuman effort, tripped 
 his antagonist up, throwing him down, and across the open- 
 ing. Of course he fell with him, but in this position, until 
 he wa,3 completely choked, which ho felt he soon would be. 
 
 •I 
 
 
 
 ! j 
 
 11] 
 
l6l3 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 he was quite capable of enough passive resistance to foil Fox 
 in his continued efforts to throw him over the side. If he 
 could only shake off that terrible bulldog grip at his throat 
 he would be free. Would help never come? Maddened 
 with rage, he too made a desperate attempt to strangle his 
 adversary, and once more hit him, but feebly this time, for 
 his strength was exhausted. He could dimly see the forms 
 of the b^ue-jackets approachi: v , wb- Fo c, struggling round, 
 swung himself througli the opv;iiivtg\ and together, locked 
 still in a firm embrace, they plunged ove- the side into the 
 dock, and the dark waters closed over thefiJ. 
 
 Poor Jack ! It was a strange recompense for havi)ig 
 once saved Laura Luscombe from a watery grave, that he 
 should now suffer such a fate at the hands of her infuriated 
 and disappointed lover. To be first throttled, and then 
 drowned in a dock, is a hard and inglorious fate for any man ; 
 but how much more so when he is innocent of any crime, 
 young and handsome, beloved perhaps, and loving certainly. 
 
 Oh, ladies ! think well ere you lightly refuse a man who 
 loves you. See how, as in the case of William Fox, a sane 
 and sober man may be driven to madness ; an upright man 
 may become a murderer. The innocent, as well as the 
 guilty, may be made to suffer through your cruelty. Think 
 of it ere you too are the cause of blood-guiltiness. 
 
 " But," some reader will ask, " how could all this have 
 happened on board one of Her Majesty's men-of-war — 
 especially when fully manned and equipped ? How was it 
 possible tor William Fox, the crew of the Hesperus looking 
 on, to deliberately murder his innocent victim ? " 
 
 It was easy enough. The whole affray did not take half 
 the time it has taken to describe its tatal course and termina 
 tion. The instant Fox had seized the young baronet by the 
 
THE ENCOUNTER WITH FOX 
 
 163 
 
 throat, one of the few blue-jackets standing near at the time 
 said : " He must be a Fenian spy ! " for this happened to be 
 a period of Fenian scare, when dynamite explosions were 
 expe^ \ everywhere The word wa'. passed from mouth 
 to mou'.h : " A Feniar. spy ! A Fenian si)y ! " Consequently 
 no hr. .d was lifted in poor Jack's asois'ance ; the officer on 
 the bi i Jge had not seen the be[,inning of the fight. When, 
 however, he turne !! aaJ saw something unusual going on by 
 the gangway, he rushed to the spot to hear the same words 
 repeated. 
 
 "Secure him at once!" he cried, but, as he said the 
 words. Fox had made his final and successful effort, and had 
 precipitated himself and the supposed destroyer of Laura 
 Luscombe into the dock alongside, ere the twenty blr 
 jackets — who, seeing the ojfficer approaching, had, accordiv^.g 
 to strict rules of man-of-war discipline, waited for his or.*.? 
 — rushed forward too late to obey it. 
 
 The officer himself, a Lieutenant Durnford, was the first 
 overboard after them, and he was followed by two more. 
 He it was who brought Jack's lifeless body to the steps up 
 the side of the dock, while the gunner was also seized and 
 brought ashore a minute after. 
 
 But, kind readers, we will no longer keep you in 'juspense. 
 Jack was not dead, though seemingly lifeless when fished 
 out of the dock. As he afterwards himself remarked, per- 
 haps he was reserved for a higher fate. His card, which 
 had been picked up, was handed to the captain, who had 
 ajjptared on the scene before the two insensible combatants 
 were brought on board once more. 
 Sirjohti Trdeaveriy 
 — th Regiment^ 
 
 Naval and Military Club. 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 ' 
 
 i \ 
 
t«« 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 "There has been some terrible mistake," nid the 
 captain of the Hesperus. "This is no Fenian spy." For 
 he too had been told the same story, and had supposed 
 that it was in a laudable endeavour to arrest some miscreant, 
 that the newly-appointed gunner had, with that miscreant 
 been so nearly drowned. 
 
 Word was immediately sent up to the Raglan Barracks, 
 where the regiment was known to be quartered, that an 
 accident had happened to Sir John Treleaven, and that it 
 was not yet known whether he would survive or not. 
 "Bung" came on board at once, but it was deemed 
 inadvisable to move his friend, and the ship was now 
 about to sail. The captain courteously invited him to 
 remain on board, promising to land him at Falmouth or 
 Queenstown. This kind offer Captain Lifton accepted, 
 sending word to the colonel the circumstances as far as 
 he knew them. 
 
 Thus when our hero opened his eyes, he found himself 
 in the cabin of the captain of the Hes^erus^ which gallant 
 craft was well out at sea. 
 
 'k.. !fl 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE ANNOUNCEMENT IN THE PAPERS. 
 
 §5(f p^T was indeed a narrow escape that Jack had 
 
 ^'^Di had from death. He was unaware of the 
 cause of the ferocious attack that had been 
 made upon him. The officers of the ship 
 seemed equally astonished with himself, and also to be 
 ashamed that such an incident should mark the opening 
 of their ship's commission. William Fox, on recovering 
 from the effects of his immersion, which he was the first 
 to do, had inquired whether Sir John Treleaven was dead 
 or no. Upon receiving an answer in the negative, he 
 remarked : 
 
 "It is a pity that such a scoundrel should still live, 
 but perhaps it is as well on the whole. Under any circum- 
 stances I must at once request to be placed under arrest." 
 
 He refused to give any explanation of this request, but, 
 as he persisted in it, it was complied with. 
 
 Jack, when well enough, asked to be allowed to see 
 Fox, now a prisoner, as he hoped to be able to elucidate 
 the mystery of the wild attack that had been made upon 
 hira. It must be borne in mind that Jack was quite 
 unaware of any intimacy or even friendship having existed 
 betweer ♦^-•e prisoner and the misguided Laura. He had 
 there'' .vi not understood, in the remotest degree, the few 
 worUs uttered by the former while aisaultini; him. 
 
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 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
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 Fox was brought into the captain's cabin under escort 
 of two officials of his own rank. He at first declined to 
 answer any of the questions put to him by the man he 
 had so nearly drowned. Smiling sarcastically, he observed 
 that it was useless his giving information about what was 
 already known, but that there were some questions he 
 would like to ask .Sir John, did he not know how hopeless 
 it would be to expect a truthful answer to one of them. 
 *' However," he went on, after a short pause, " I shall 
 speak neither one way nor the other, unless I am permitted 
 to bi)eak alone with Sir John Treleaven." 
 
 Jack begged the cai)tain to let him have an interview 
 with Fox alone. The latter demurred a little at this, 
 but gave in finally on Fox's giving his word of honour to 
 attempt no furlher violence, if granted a private interview 
 with Sit John. It is not our purpose to give a detailed 
 account of what passed betv/een them. Suffice it to say 
 that to Jack was made clear the cause of the assault; 
 while the unhappy Fox discovered that in his blind rage 
 and thirst for vengeance he had nearly murdered an 
 innocent man. He threw himself at Jack's feet craving 
 his forgiveness, and thanking heaven that he had been 
 spared the commission of an awful crime. Jack forgave 
 him freely. Indeed, when he found that it wus again 
 mainly owing to Captain Hemmings' lying words that Fox 
 had been deceived, he much pitied the unfortunate fellow, 
 while feeling that he himself had yet another account 
 to settle with the commander of the Adelaide, 
 
 He tried his best to console William, who was almost 
 inconsolable at the error he had committed, and who 
 declared himself willing to suffer the worst punishment 
 naval law might inflict upon him for his folly. 
 
THE ANSOUNCEMRNT IN THE PAPERS 167 
 
 " TTc only dreaded imprisonment," he said, " because 
 he knew not but that Laura would recjuire his help when 
 he was powerless to aid her." 
 
 Jack promised to do his utmost to cjct the capt.^in to 
 overlook the offence allogcther; but, should this be impos- 
 sible, he swore to Fox to give Laura all the aid in his 
 power whenever she mi Jit recpiire it. 
 
 "She had herself," he i lAMined the now repentant 
 gunner, "solemnly promised to a[)ijly to him if in want 
 of a friend." 
 
 ''Then, sir," said Fox, "I shall go to prison — there is 
 no chance of my being let off cheerlully ; yes, cheerfully, 
 knowing that a man who can so generously forgive his 
 would-be murderer will, by God's blessing, not be one 
 who is unlikely to keep his promise to befriend the poor 
 lost one, if ever it be in his power." 
 
 When our hero came to the captain and informed him 
 that the attack by Fox had been all a mistake, that officer 
 was more than ever annoyed that such a contretemps had 
 occurred upon his ship. For no entreaty of Jack's would 
 he consent to forej^^o trying Fox by court-martial, and the 
 only concession Jack could obtain, after a long wordy war, 
 was that a charge of assault should be substituted for the 
 serious and indeed the right one of attempted murder. 
 
 "F'or such an occurrence to happen on board one of 
 Her Majesty's men-of-war and to be overlooked was," said 
 the fussy little captain, "impossible, utterly impossible, 
 sir!" 
 
 On arrival at Q^.ieenstown, Jack and "Bung" together 
 parted from the ship and its officers with regret. Especially 
 to Lieutenant Durnford did the former express his grateful 
 thanks for huvUij^ risked his own life to save his, and in 
 
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 leaving he made him promise to come and see him at his 
 place at some future day. 
 
 As Jack was particularly anxious not to have to appear 
 as a witness in the court-martial about to assemble on poor 
 Fox, the captain of the man-of-war did not insist upon it, 
 saying : " There were plenty of witnesses without his having 
 to be present." Jack also took a kind leave of his late 
 enemy, telling him : " He sincerely hoped he might be 
 lightly dealt with, and that he had begged the captain to 
 mention to the court when it assembled that there were very 
 extenuating circumstances in the prisoner's favour." 
 
 The pris';ner wrung his hand and thanked him with tears 
 in his eyes as he bid him good-bye. 
 
 The two friends returned via Dublin and Holyhead to 
 Plymouth, where they arrived three days after leaving that 
 port in the Hesperus. ** Bung " proceeded immediately to 
 the Raglan Barracks, but Jack, being still on leave, and 
 being anxious also to avoid all the questions he would be 
 sure to meet with if he accompanied his friend, went to the 
 well-known " Duke of Cornwall Hotel " opposite the Millbay 
 Station and barracks. 
 
 That evening, however. Jack found his room invaded, 
 not only by officers, but by many ot his former Plymouth 
 friends, for this affair had made a noise in the place, and his 
 safe return was immediately known. Apart, therefore, from 
 the fact that Jack had become a baronet — a palliation m 
 itself to many for his supposed rcrape with the " Maid of 
 the Mill " — the fact of his having so narrowly escaped being 
 murdered was sufficient to bring all those who had any 
 friendly feeling towards him to offer their congratulations on 
 his having been rescued from a violent death. Many wer> 
 the CO, jejtures as to luc cause of ilie attach ; but as this was 
 
THE AN.\OUi\CEMENT IN THE PAPERS 169 
 
 only known to our hero himself, and to the discreet Lifton, 
 and they neither gave any information on the subject, it 
 was put down generally to the sudden phrenzy of a mad 
 sailor. 
 
 Next morning, Jack determined to waste no more time 
 m loitering about. There might, for all he knew, be fresh 
 risks hanging over him for doing so, as misfortunes so 
 seldom come alone. He therefore started for Horrabridge 
 by the nine o'clock train from the station opposite. 
 
 As he opened his Western Morning News before entering 
 the train, the first i-aragraph that met his eye was headed : 
 " The I dcent Attempted Murder of Sir John Treleaven," 
 and commenced : 
 
 " We are glad to be able to inform our readers that this 
 young officer has not, as at first reported, died from the 
 effects of the brutal attack recently made upon him in the 
 Devonport Dockyard, etc., etc. He has arrived safely in 
 Plymouth from Queenstown, and is staying at the ' Duke of 
 Cornwall Hotel.' " 
 
 The same subject afforded matter for a leader from the 
 editorial pen. Jack now for the first time became aware of 
 the importance attached to him since he had succeeded to 
 his uncle's title and estates. 
 
 His first feeling on reading the above announcement 
 was one of annoyance at the publicity of the whole affair ; 
 then it flashed across his mind that these reports might have 
 reached his mother and sister, whom he had forgotten to 
 telegraph to from Queenstown. Indeed, he had not thought 
 at all of the likelihood of their hearing of his mishap. 
 However, this omission he remedied before the train started, 
 and thereby set an anxious mother's heart at rest. 
 
 There had been another besides this mother and sister 
 
I70 
 
 ADA TRI SCOTT 
 
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 to whom the announcement of " the reported murder of 
 Sir John Treleaven," in the Western MorniNg Neivs of 
 three days previous, had come as a severe blow. Was this 
 Ada Triscott ? No — no inteUigence of the mishap had as 
 yet reached her. for the Morning Ncivs was not a paper 
 taken at Tristillian, and, if the report of Jack's murder had 
 been copied into other papers, it had been overlooked in 
 that household where nothing was being thought about but 
 the shooting ; and when men — and women too, for the 
 matter of that — were too much occupied from iriorning till 
 night at this particular period, to pay much attention to the 
 news of the day. 
 
 But Mr. Watson, sitting at breakfast with his daughter 
 Nellie, had seen it and read it. 
 
 " Good heaven ! " said he, dropping the paper. 
 
 " Don't swear, papa, you know it spoils my breakfast," 
 said Nellie, languidly. She was a little disgusted with her 
 self for having by accident got up in time for nine o'clock 
 breakfast this morning. 
 
 Mr. Watson took up the paper again, and began reading 
 the paragraph aloud. As he finished it, 
 
 "There!" exclaimed Nellie, baiu'ins; the end of her 
 knife on the table with a violence that shook everything on it, 
 and made her father jump in his chair. " I always told him 
 he'd come to a bad end. Seive him right ! What a fool 
 he is to choose this time of all others to get killed too — just 
 when, with more luck than he deserves, he has become a 
 baronet. I suppose he's done it to spite us all, and not to 
 give us a chance now he's worth marrying. But if he thinks 
 we're going to mope over him, and forgive him all his sins, 
 just because he's taken it into his head to go out of the 
 world in a sensational manner, tliat's where he makus his 
 
5 il 
 
 THE ANNOUNCEMENT IN THE PAPERS 171 
 
 mistake ! Very mean of him to spoil my breakfast, though, 
 like this." And dashing the knife down on the floor, 
 apparently in a rage, this inconsequent and irrational young 
 woman left her breakfast untasted, and retiring 10 her room 
 — did what? Acted up to the spirit of the foregoing 
 sj)eech ? No ! Threw herself face downwards on her bed, 
 and there remained for hours. 
 
 When the servants came to do the room, and tried the 
 door, they were told angrily to " go away," and the same at 
 lunch-time equally angrily. At last dinner-time arrived, 
 and Mr. Watson, in fear and trembling, again sent a servant 
 to apprise her of the fact. She got off her bed this time, 
 and going to the door, opened it and looked out into the 
 passage. The maid had retired to a little distance on 
 liearing her coming, not knowing how Miss Nellie might 
 receive her. But Nellie only said, in rather an imploring 
 tone : 
 
 " Will you go away ? I don't Wrint any dinner, I have a 
 headache and want to be left alone." 
 
 "Very well, miss," said the girl ; and she wondered, as 
 she took her way downstairs again, what had happened tc 
 kcei) her young mistress shut up all day long in her room 
 with neither food, fire, nor lights. 
 
 Nellie, having locked the door, once more threw herself 
 on the bed. But the exertion of getting up had aroused 
 her from the first stoniness of her grief, it had changed the 
 wluvlc current of her feelings, and brought the required 
 relief Silently now the great tears welled through her 
 fingers, as she held her hand tightly clasped over her eyes. 
 Ail that miserable day she had been saying, over and over 
 to herself, " Jack is dead ! Jack is dead ! " but the words 
 had no meaning for her — it was impossible to connect Jack 
 
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 172 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 in her mind with any thought of death. But now she 
 seemed all at once to realise that it must be true — true that 
 she should never again see his handsome, good-humoured 
 face, or hear his hearty, honest laugh. 
 
 " Oh, Jack, Jack," she sobbed, " why did you die ? 
 Shall we ever, ever meet again ? Oh, yes, perhaps in an 
 unknown world. But oh ! the long, long, weary waiting." 
 
 It was characteristic of the girl that no sentimental 
 thought of an early death for herself ever entered her head. 
 No, she was young and strong, and had, in all probability, 
 a long life stretching out before her. She knew that, had 
 Jack lived, he would never have been hers ; to many women 
 this would have softened the blow of his death. But not to 
 Nellie. She was curiously devoid of the small jealousies 
 peculiar to most women. Her love for Jack had been a 
 pure and unselfish one, and her sorrow was the same. For 
 all her peculiarities could not change her heart ; and that 
 was as noble as her face and form were beautiful. 
 
 Jack, meantime — no corpse, but solid flesh and blood 
 — was dispensing brandy-and-sodas, and receiving the con- 
 gratulations of his friends, in his room at the "Duke of 
 Cornwall Hotel." 
 
 i ,!iav: 
 
 ^1 ■ 
 
^«ll--^ 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 RKSURRECTION. 
 
 ^jf 
 
 II 
 
 >T was about half-past ten when Jack reached 
 Moor Lodge. He had been told at the Horra- 
 bridge station that Mr. Watson had just left 
 by the train for Plymouth; and so he knew 
 he would find Nellie alone. 
 
 " It is certainly rather an early hour for a call," thought 
 Jack, as he walked up the drive, and he began to fear that, 
 after all that had happened, and his own supposed culpa- 
 bility, Nellie might refuse to see him, make the hour an 
 excuse, perhaps, and say she was not up yet. 
 
 However, as he walked up to the door, he could see 
 through the large plate-glass windows into the dining-room. 
 No mistake now as to whether she was up or not. On the 
 table were the breakfast-things not yet removed, while 
 beyond it, leaning down by the fireplace, and apparently 
 tying up her shoe, stood Nellie herself. With her back 
 three (quarters turned away from the window, she did not 
 perceive him as he stood there a minute watching her, a d 
 admiring her graceful figure. His hand was on the bell, 
 when he changed his mind. He had only to open the 
 hall-door and turn to the right to find himself in the 
 dining-ioom. Without knowing what impulse j)ron4)ted 
 
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 ADA TRI SCOTT 
 
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 him to dispense with the usual formality, he did so, and 
 walked straight in, after depositing his hat and stick on the 
 hall-table, as he had done many a time before. 
 
 Nellie, vvlio had risen up, and was leaning her elbows 
 on the mantelpiece, did not turn as he entered the room. 
 She probably thought it was the servant come to take away 
 the things. Jack tiiought her looking very pale as he 
 advanced towards her. Still she did not notice him, but 
 remained lost in thought. Nellie had seen no pai)er that 
 morning with the intelligence of Jack's safety, and she was 
 at that moment thinking of him as dead who now stood ^o 
 near her alive and well. 
 
 He had come quite close to her, waiting for her to turn 
 or move; but, with one foot on the stone carving, she 
 remained motionless, watching the flicker of the wood iirc 
 on the hearthstone, 
 
 " Nellie ! " said Jack. 
 
 Nellie gave a scream — about the only time in her lifj 
 she had ever been guilty of such a thing — as she turr.ed 
 and saw him whom she had imagined doubly lost. Lost to 
 them all as a friend by his own misconduct, and still ni'.re 
 lost, and for ever, by the hand of death. She stood for a 
 moment or two looking at him with pa"ted lips, and the 
 colour coming and going over her chteks. At last she 
 said, solemnly : 
 
 *' Jack, are you dead ? because, if so, I had rather you 
 didn't come any closer." 
 
 " No, Nellie; I'm alive — at least, I think so." 
 
 She had got even paler and was shaking a little. 
 
 " Dear old Jack ! Dear old Jack ! I'm so glad." 
 
 Then, recovering her voice, she laid her hands on both 
 his shoulders, and kisiied him warmly. He put his arm 
 
RESURRECTION 
 
 175 
 
 round her and kissed her too, as he might have kissed a 
 dear, long-lost sister. 
 
 "There, Jack," said Nellie, "don't think I'm ever going 
 to do that again. I never kissed a man before, and I 
 wouldn't have done it now only that you've risen from the 
 dead, and that's a trick you can't play us again. I thought 
 you were dead, and forgave you everything. Far more 
 than you deserved, you know," added Nellie, wiping her 
 glistening eyes. 
 
 Jack too felt a choking sensation in his throat. Who 
 would not have been moved at such a warm and unlooked- 
 for reception ? 
 
 " Now then. Jack ! No more sentiment. Come and 
 have a cup of tea. I'm so glad to see you that, in si)ite of 
 all the trouble you've given me, you shall have the par- 
 ticular cup of strong tea I was keeping for myself. There," 
 she said, as she poured it out, " you never knew m ? so 
 self-denying before. But this is a special occasio m, und 
 the tea is not to be repeated any more than the kisses, you 
 know, Jack." 
 
 Jack drank the tea, feeling rather as if it choked him. 
 
 " Now you've got to tell me everything," went on 
 Nellie ; " but no lies, mind ! What made you run away 
 with that girl ? What have you done with her ? Aren't 
 you thoroughly ashamed of yourself? Answer these ques- 
 tions first, and then you may tell me how you like being a 
 baronet, and how you escaped being murdered. You're 
 the same as a brother to me. Jack ; and don't, like a dear 
 boy, conceal anything from me. I am afraid there has 
 never been the same feeling of confidence between us since 
 that day of the picnic. You remember that day I made 
 you pretend to propose to me in the grotto during the 
 
 I iii 
 

 176 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 shower? That was a very jolly df*);" looking dreamily 
 out of the window ; " since then chings have not been the 
 same, especially not since you disgraced yourself: which 
 you have done, Jack, you know, most abominably." 
 
 "Nellie," he replied, ''I think you know I never have 
 been one for telling lies, either in great or small things ; so 
 you will believe that I am not lying when I declare most 
 solemnly that I am blameless in that matter. It was not I 
 who ran away with poor Laura Luscombe." 
 
 Then, according to Lifton's advice, he told her every- 
 thing regarding Laura which the reader already knows. 
 He told her also that the attack which had bev'^n made 
 upon him had not been, as she had supposed from the 
 newspaper account, that of a madman ; but of a dis- 
 appointed and true-hearted lover, revenging, as he thought, 
 'fh^. cruel wrong wrought upon the woman he loved. He 
 told her of the estrangement that, for some inexplicable 
 causc, exibted between himself and Ada Triscott, and asked 
 her advice as to how to right himself in that young lady's 
 eyes. In conclusion, ne grasped Nellie's hand, and thanked 
 her, with all the dee^ feeling of a warm heart, for the brave 
 way in which she had stuck up for him in his absence, and 
 for refusing to listen to a word against him when she was 
 present. 
 
 The brave woman never flinched when he spoke, as 
 she herself led him on to do, of his love for Ada Triscott. 
 She only asked him if he was sure he loved her truly, and 
 was willing and anxious to make her his wife, and upon his 
 replying in the affirmative, told him that the only course 
 open to him, and the only right one for himself and her, 
 was to j^o to Tristillian as soon as possible, and exonerate 
 himself in her eyes. Jack explained that, though anxious 
 
RESURRECTION 
 
 177 
 
 to clear himself, he did not wish to implicate Captain 
 I lemmings. Nellie respected his scruples, but told him 
 plainly that she did not think that gentleman required the 
 slightest consideration ; for he had evidently fostered the 
 belief which every one held of his (Jack's)guilt, and deserved 
 no mercy. 
 
 " And now, Jack," said Nellie, " you know how much I 
 wish for your welfare, and that, although I was prepared to 
 forgive, how much more happy I am to know there is 
 nothing to forgive. You have been most sadly the victim 
 of circumstances. However, now you've got to have it 
 out, if possible, with Ada, and to show her that you are not 
 a jet-black sheep but the woolly-white lamb you have 
 proved yourself to me. So take my advice ; don't let the 
 grass grow under your feet, or you may find yourself * cut 
 out.' It is quite early yet ; you can get to Dawlish from 
 here easily by a train that runs in half an hour. I'll make 
 you some sandwiches, and walk down to the station with 
 yoa to start you off. This time I shall be able to see with 
 my own eyes that you really do go alone." 
 
 What Nellie's feelings were as she "started Jack off" to 
 woo another woman it would be difficult to tell ; but we 
 know how Jack arrived at Tristillian that very evening, and 
 w.ti his love there in the " Long " plantation, only in time 
 10 find that Nellie's suggestion was too true, and that he 
 was already *' cut out." Again he suffered by Captain 
 Hemmings. First his reputation taken away, and then 
 the woiiun he wished to make his wif'; I 
 
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CHAPTER XXIL 
 
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 AN unb;xpected guest. 
 
 »S Jack Treleaven retraced his steps down the 
 "Long" plantation to the little village of 
 Tristillian, where he had left the trap which 
 had conveyed him from Dawlish, his heart 
 was very bitter within him. Bitter with Ada Triscott, who 
 had never looked lovelier to him than when defiantly 
 announcing herself as the affianced bride of another. 
 Bitter to loathing with that other, with whom he promised 
 himself yet to have a day of reckoning. Bitter again, and 
 almost to madness, with himself and his own folly in 
 having let fall the cup of happiness when raised to his 
 lips, while, through his carelessness and indecision, another 
 quaffed the wine of life and love that might have been 
 his own. 
 
 Taking the train for Plymouth, he did not arrive at the 
 Millbay station until nearly ten o'clock. He was worn 
 out, sick at heart, and hungry, as he walked up the steps of 
 the " Duke of Cornwall Hotel " ; for, however much in love 
 or disappointed a man may be, if he goes without food, as 
 Jack had done nearly all day — for he had forgotten Nellie's 
 sandwiches — he is apt to be hungry after travelling about 
 for hours. Thinking, therefore, "Well, at any rate, I'll have 
 a couiiortable dinner before turning in, and forget for a 
 
 I 
 
 
 1 
 
AN UNEXPECTED GUEST 
 
 179 
 
 time that there's such a thing as a woman in the world," 
 Jack entcre 1 the hotel. But, alas ! even in so small a 
 matter, how little are we able to do what we wish in this 
 world of vicissitudes and trials ! Our hero was once more 
 doomed to disappointment. He was not to be allowed, 
 even at that hour of the night, to have his dinner in peace 
 and to forget that his career was — so much the worse for 
 him — indissolubly bound up with and in the fair sex, who 
 seemed to make and mar it for him at their pleasure. The 
 eventful interviews of this eventful day were not yet over. 
 He was fated to have yet a third interview with a woman 
 that evening, and with one who had unintentionally caused 
 so much sorrow to him, and to others through him. 
 Greeting him with an obsequious bow as he went into the 
 hotel, the head-waiter, an old acquaintance, said : 
 
 "Good evening, Sir John; fine evening, Sir John;" 
 and putting on the familiar manner that is the wont of 
 waiters who, as this one was, are much in the way of being 
 si")iled by naval and military officers, the waiter continued : 
 "I'm glad you're come back at last, Sir John; there's 
 some one waiting upstairs, I think, would have been 
 disappointed if you hadn't. Been waiting a very long time, 
 Sir John." 
 
 "Who is it?" said Jack. "Captain Lifton, I suppose." 
 
 " No, Sir John ; Captain Lifton did come in about six 
 o'clock ; but this is a lady, Sir John," with a significant 
 smile. 
 
 " A lady ! The deuce ! Who is she ? " 
 
 " The young lady said as how she preferred not giving 
 her name ; but that she'd wait for you, Sir John." 
 
 " Young lady ! " Jack ran through his head all the 
 youthful indiscretions he had been guilty of; but could 
 
 
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 remember nothing which might bring any young lady to 
 see him at this particular time. 
 
 " I suppose I had better go up and see," said he, not 
 over-pleased, and somehow not over-easy in his mind 
 as he thought of a young lady waiting for him at ten 
 o'clock p.m. 
 
 "Yes, I think that would be the best way, Sir John," 
 said the man, confidentially, and adding, " the young lady 
 said she should sleep here if you didn't return to-night. 
 Sir John, and ordered a room. It's quite a lady. Sir 
 John ! • not forgetting the half-crown he had pocketed 
 half an hour previously. It had purc.iased that quite. 
 
 " Well, get me some dinner in the coffee-room in half 
 an hour's time," said Jack. 
 
 " Any for the young lady, Sir John ? " said the waiter, 
 looking knowing. 
 
 " Upon ray word, I don't know," said Jack, testily, for 
 he was tired and worried, and the familiarity he had once 
 tolerated now annoyed him. But as the idea flashed across 
 his brain, " By Jove ! perhaps it's my sister come down to 
 find out about me," he added, less snappishly, " I'll tell you 
 presently;" and walking upstairs to his sitting-room he 
 turned ^he handle of the door, to find, asleep in the 
 arm-chair, not his sister, but — Laura Luscombe ! 
 
 Laura Luscombe it was ! but not Laura looking happy 
 and fresh as a rose, as when he had seen her in the theatre 
 at Paris, but Laura Luscombe very pretty still, but pale and 
 thin, with dark rings under her closed eyes, that gave her, 
 even in sleep, a tired, sad expression. As the young 
 baronet looked at her he saw that her eyelashes were wet, 
 while her listless fingers still held the handkerchief with 
 which she had been drying her tears. 
 

 m 
 
 AN UNEXPECTED GUEST 
 
 i8i 
 
 Tender-hearted Jack, looking on the careworn face, 
 forgot his own troubles, and exclaimed, inwardly : 
 
 ''Well, thank God, it is not I who have brought her 
 to this ! " 
 
 Laura awoke and started up. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Ireleaven — I mean, Sir John— forgive me, 
 forgive me this intrusion. I am indeed ashamed of myself 
 and afraid to look you in the face ; but I am so miserable. 
 You once told me if *^ver I wanted a friend to come to 
 you, and now — and now I have got no one else in the 
 whole world to whom I can turn." 
 
 Two big tears fell upon Jack's hand, as the wretched 
 girl clutched it convulsively. Jack was, as we know, very 
 soft-hearted ; he was also, we know, a bit of a flirt, and just 
 now in a reckless and cynical mood in which many another 
 man might have been inclined to take a little harmless 
 amusement out of the situation. It would have been 
 pleasant no doubt to him to have kissed away those tears, 
 and comforted and caressed his pretty little companion, 
 under the guise of friendship and for "auld acquaintance, 
 sake." But such a thought never entered Jack's head, nor 
 any smallest feeling that, by so doing, he might revenge 
 himself for the falseness of others. 
 
 No 1 Jack's first sensation was one of blank dismay 
 at the idea of a young lady being thrown upon his hands 
 at this hour of the night — his next one of yearning com- 
 passion for the homeless, friendless, ruined girl appealing 
 to him for help, as her only possible friend or protector, 
 from those paths of vice and degradation into which she 
 had already taken the first fatal step. 
 
 The tears were flowing fast down her wasted cheeks, 
 and an hysterical sob every now and then warned Jack 
 
 
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 ADA TRl SCOTT 
 
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 that he must be practical, and not stand there only holding 
 the helpless little hand in his. 
 
 " Don't, Laura ; don't cry," said he, cheerfully. *' Come 
 and sit down. You can tell me all about it presently;" 
 and, with these exceedingly consolatory words, he led her 
 back to the arm-chair, made her sit down, and began 
 looking about the room for sherry to give her. Finding 
 none, he rang the bell. 
 
 Now, however unhappy a woman may be, she does not 
 like to look ridiculous before servants, so for once Jack 
 had done the right thing at the right time, and, when the 
 waiter entered, Laura had mopped up her tears as best she 
 could, and was intently studying the only book in the room 
 — one of those musty copies of the Bible, bound in a nasty- 
 smelling brown cover, with which we are so plentifully 
 supplied in hotels and railway-stations by the generosity of 
 the S. P. G. An excellent plan, by the way, of the above- 
 mentioned society, for many a man or woman is driven 
 in sheer desperation at times to read words which may 
 throw the light of truth on an unbelieving heart. Not so 
 Laura Luscombe. As she turned over the leaves, the 
 words swam before her eyes, and looked a confused mass 
 on the dingy yellow pages. 
 
 "Bring some sherry at once, and lay the dinner in 
 here," said Jack to the confidential waiter, who depaited 
 on his errand with a smile, for which Jack felt much 
 inclined to kick him. 
 
 The sherry was brought in a few moments, but the look in 
 Jack's face warned the man i -» indulge in no more smiles ; 
 so, depositing the sherry on the table, he disappeared at 
 once. Having administered some to Laura, Jack bade her 
 sit there quietly, while he went to wash his hands for dinner. 
 
AN UNEXPECTED GUEST 
 
 >83 
 
 His kindness again brought the tears to her eyes, but 
 she forced them back and took up the ancient volume, 
 absently gazing at the pages as though it were some un- 
 interesting picture-book. Alas ! how many of us look at 
 the sacred book in the same light — a picture-book with 
 only one picture — the cover ! How many Bibles, gentle 
 reader, do you possess, given you by parents, brothers, 
 sisters, friends ? And how often in your days of business 
 or amusement do you study the pictures with which its 
 pages abound from the hands of the prophets and kings, or 
 from those of the Divine Master Himself ? Alas ! alas ! 
 for too many of us it is but an ornament for the drawing- 
 room, or piece of necessary furniture for the bedroom, to be 
 left unopened on shelf or table until, in the agonies of 
 grief, suffering, wrong-doing, we turn to its pages, looking 
 for comfort in its pictures, and words of loving forgiveness. 
 God grant that those who look, even in the eleventh hour, 
 may not always look in vain I 
 
 Dinner was ready, and Jack had returned. They took 
 their places at the table, and he did his best to rouse 
 Laura and make her eat, in which effort he was not very 
 successful, although, to please him, she struggled bravely to 
 swallow a few mouthfuls. 
 
 The conversation duriiig the repast was very general 
 on his part, and very monosyllabic on hers. The nearest 
 approach in Jack's remarks to anything that could show he 
 knew in the least how she had been passing her time since 
 they had last met on the banks of the Tavy, was the 
 "How did you like Paris?" which had slipped out 
 inadvertently before he could stop himself. 
 
 Laura looked pained and confused, and replied, slowly, 
 "Oh, very well, thanks," and no moie was said on the subject. 
 
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 When dinner was over, and they were left alone, Jack, 
 who felt in rather a better humour with himself and the 
 world generally than he had done before, drew a couple oi 
 chairs i.) the fire, and said kindly to Laura : 
 
 "Now come, Laura, and tell me all about it. That's 
 to say, tell me as much as you like about all you have 
 done since I saw you last, and the cause of your present 
 distress. I have not forgotten," he continued, "my 
 promise to be a friend to you if ever you wanted help, 
 and I mean it now as much as I did when I made it. 
 First of all, tell me where you are living, and how you 
 knew I was here ? " 
 
 ** I am living at Saltash at present, and have been there 
 for the last three weeks. I knew you were here by seeing 
 it mentioned in the paper this morning." 
 
 Here Laura stopped speaking, and, locking her hands 
 together tightly, seemed to be summoning up all the 
 energy and resolution she possessed to enable her to 
 continue. Jack watched her curiously, but said nothing, 
 and presently she went on : 
 
 " I must ask you a question, Mr. Treleaven ; was the 
 gunner Fox who attacked you the same William Fox 
 who served on board Mr. Triscott's ship the Raven ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Jack. 
 
 " Ah ! I feared so. I knew he had become a warrant 
 officer, for Captain Hemmings told me so one day when 
 taunting me with my former friendship for him, saying that 
 my low acquaintance would soon be out of the way. Poor 
 William ! He was very fond of me once, but I shall never 
 see him again. I have no one — no one left to care what 
 becomes of me. I ought to be dead." She was beginning 
 
 1 
 I, 
 
AN UNEXPECTED GUEST 
 
 185 
 
 to speak excitedly, and Jack, dreading another outburst, 
 interrupted her hastily. 
 
 '' Hush 1 hush 1 Laura, you must not speak like that 
 — you have many friends still, T hope, and Fox I know to 
 be a true one. His attack upon me which you have read 
 about in the papers was the result of a mistake — no matter 
 what the cause, that is a purely personal matter between 
 us — and we are now warm friends. Although, poor fellow, 
 I am sorry to say, he is about to be tried by court-martial 
 jfor it ; he would not have been if I could have got him off, 
 but that was impossible, as it was a breach of naval 
 discipline. I trust his sentence may be light. If it is only 
 dismissal from his ship, that he will not care about, for he 
 told me his only object on earth was to know what had 
 become of you, and he will thus be free to institute the 
 search I know he intended making for you, and which, 
 if you think fit, you may save him. But you have told me 
 nothing about yourself yet, Laura." 
 
 "What is there to tell you?" she said, bitterly. 
 "Captain Hemmings, after doing all in his power to 
 make me love him, persuaded me to leave my home with 
 him for a life of shame. I suppose he did it in a fit of 
 jealousy after he saw you carrying me through the river 
 that day. I know now that he never really cared for me. 
 While I thought he loved me, I was happy enough. He 
 was everything in the world to me. I was discontented 
 and miserable at home ; and, when he asked me to go away 
 with him, I thought he loved me so that we should be 
 married in a little time, and he would make a lady of me. 
 Then we came back to Paris, and since that time I have 
 only seen him twice. At both meetings he spoke harshly 
 
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 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
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 to me and told me * I was a curse to him.' It was hard 
 when I had given up all for him. When I told you I was 
 going to become a governess I spoke the truth ; hut he 
 would not hear of it, and I was too much bound up in iiim 
 to go against his inclinations. By this morning's post I 
 received that letter," handing it across to Jack. " Read it 
 and tell me whether I have not reason enough to drive me 
 to despair or to worse." 
 
 She dropped her face upon her hands with a groan, and 
 went on, speaking more to herself than to Jack : 
 
 " Abandoned ! Cast aside ! Where can I fly to iiide 
 my wretched face ? And I loved him — before God I loved 
 him!" 
 
 Jack read the letter. It was about as heartless a pro- 
 duction as man ever penned — very short — saying it would 
 be to their mutual advantage to see no more of each other, 
 and offering her five hundred pounds on condition that she 
 would never make any attempt to see him again. It was 
 indeed enough to make a girl who would — but for the 
 unprincipled man who wrote it — have been still a good 
 girl, wretched with a wretchedness beyond all words. 
 
 She took the letter back from Jack, whose face expressed 
 all the disgust he felt, and cast it into the centre of the 
 blazing fire. 
 
 " There, Captain Hemmings," she said, as she watched 
 the last dying sparks of the paper. " May I also burn as 
 black as those ashes, if ever I touch one penny of youk 
 dirty money. Much as I have loved you, my love dies 
 with that burnt paper. That you may be punished and die 
 a violent death, and be as powerless to save yourself in your 
 hour of need, is a fate too good for you, for you are without 
 mercy. Are you surprised at me, Sir John Treleaven ? " 
 
AN UNEXPECTED GUEST 
 
 i87 
 
 turning her large, tragic eyes full on him. " Do you think 
 me wicked to speak like this ? Yes, I am wicked — terribly, 
 terribly wicked — but, oh ! the agonies of remorse I have 
 suffered." 
 
 It was sad to see this utter abandonment of grief and 
 misery in one so young and fair; and Jack felt that 
 Hemmings would merit any evil that might happen to him 
 for the ruin he had wrought. He now did his best to quiet 
 and comfort the poor girl, and, as soon as she had become 
 somewhat calmer, he asked her what were her present 
 intentions, recommending her if possible to return to her 
 parents* house. This she said was impossible — she could 
 never face the parents whom she had outrage! by her 
 folly. 
 
 " My father," she said, " would, I am sure, never receive 
 me under his roof, even if 1 were not too much ashamed to 
 ask him to do so." 
 
 " In that I think you are wrong," said Jack, " for poor 
 Fox told me that your father's sole wish was to find you 
 again, and to induce you to return, and that he would, he 
 was certain, pardon all." 
 
 "No, no! " cried Laura, "I couldn't do it, poor father. 
 But what shall I do? I am not yet a sufficiently 
 abandoned wretch to throw all decency to the winds, 
 though heaven knows what I may become in time. But what 
 other course have I left open to me, than in my misery to 
 rush headlong to the destruction I have prepared for myself ? 
 No respectable employment that is worth having can be 
 obtained without a character. Even a cook or a housemaid 
 requires a better one than that the cruel world, without one 
 atom of pity, now gives me. Alas ! alas ! how wretched \ 
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 APA TRISCOTT 
 
 Jack was at his wits' end for some means of distracting 
 the unfortunate girl's mind from the helpless contemplation 
 of her own woes, when the idea occurred to him that he 
 might as well tell her the reason of Fox's attack upon him- 
 self, and of his determination to come to her assistance as 
 soon as he could leave the ship. It would at least divert 
 her attention for the time. 
 
 " Well," said he, *' as you cannot go home, I should re- 
 commend your staying at Saltash for a few days. If you 
 are in want of money, I can give you some ; which you will 
 repay me some day, you know," he added, as she made a 
 violent gesture of dissent. " We shall hear what has become 
 of poor Fox in a day or two. And now I may as well tell 
 you that it was his love for you that caused him to assault 
 me, from a mistaken belief, in which all the world shares, 
 that it was I who led you astray." 
 
 Laura gasped for breath. 
 
 " You ? You ? And have you had your name dragged 
 down by being associated with a wicked creature like me ? 
 Oh, how could that be ? You, who are the only friend I 
 have left, to be maligned for my sake ! You too 
 must hate me, and never wish to see or he.'ir of me 
 again." 
 
 "Don't talk like that, Laura,*' said Jack, severely. 
 " You know I am not that sort of man. If I hated you 1 
 should not be here speaking to you now, and offering you 
 my advice. Yes, it was our meeting at Newton the day 
 you left that caused the report I referred to. It certainly 
 has caused me some little inconvenience," he continued, 
 thoughtfully ; "but it was not your fault, so we need not 
 dwell upon that. I was speaking of Fox. You know 1 
 really am your friend. Will you tollow iny advice, tiien, 
 
AN UNEXPECTED GUEST 
 
 i<9 
 
 and wait at Saltash? At any rate until he returns to 
 England. If he is dismissed from his ship, as is probable, 
 that will be soon. I will let him know where you are. He, 
 being an intimate friend of your father, and devotedly 
 attached to yourself, is the person most likel y to be able to 
 effect a reconciliation between you and your friends, which is 
 certainly requisite whether you choose to go home after- 
 wards or not. In the meantime, I will look about for some 
 comfortable situation for you, if not at home, perhaps on 
 the Continent, where I have many friends. Till you obtain 
 it, you can borrow my money without scruple, and I will 
 come and see you from time to time, to tell you how things 
 go on. And now, good nieri t. Think about this, and tell 
 me in the morning before you take the train out to Saltash 
 what are your resolutions. I myself am going up to town 
 by the ' Dutchman.' So we can breakfast together, if not 
 too early for you, at a quarter to eight. But stay a minute 
 before you go to your room ; " and, getting his cheque-book, 
 Jack filled in a cheque for o e hundrec pounds. Folding 
 it up, he said with a smile, a;, he gave it to her, " You need 
 not look at this now, but, when you do, remember it is 
 your own money, and do not burn it as you did that letter 
 just now — good night Try to sleep, a rest will do you 
 good. I must go downstairs and have a smoke. Ring the 
 bell, and the maid will show you your room." 
 
 And Jack was gone, much relieved at the termination 
 of the harrowing scenes he had just gone through, and with 
 the sense of having done a meritorious action, before Laura 
 had time for the heartfelt expressions of gratitude which 
 were springing to her lips. Let us hope he enjoyed his 
 pipe. " Virtue," we are told, " is its own reward." 
 
 And now let us see how the virtuous behaviour of this 
 
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 ADA TR I SCOTT 
 
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 British subaltern — for we hope that our readers will agree 
 that it has been virtuous — is likely to be rewarded. 
 
 Next morning, business letters rendered his early de- 
 parture impossible. Word war sent to Laura in her room 
 that she might defer her breakfast until a later hour than 
 that fixed overnight. This, after long hours of sleepless 
 tossing, she was glad to be able to do ; and the miserable 
 girl, in consequence of the delay, gained a few hours' 
 repose. 
 
 It was twelve o'-iock when she and our hero left the 
 hotel-door together, intending to cross the road to the 
 Millbay station. As they were descending the step, a little 
 party of three people, issuing from the station-door 
 opposite, came across the narrow street to the hotel, 
 meeting the descending couple face to face. A momentary 
 recognition on both sides ; no salutation on either, barring 
 the coldest possible, hardly worthy of the name. These 
 three, two ladies and one gentleman, were Ada Triscott, 
 Miss Trefry, and George Triscott. The latter alone knew 
 by appearance the young lady accompanying Sir John 
 Treleaven, but it is highly probable that he did not with- 
 hold the information from the others; for of course the 
 ladies asked : 
 
 "Who is she?" 
 
 Unless, Mr. Jack, you are utterly careless what is 
 thought of you by Ada, it would perhaps have been as well 
 had you left those business letters alone, and gone as you 
 intended by the ** Dutchman." 
 
 Another little incident, just to exemplify the adage of 
 "virtue rewarded 1" Three days after this, Mrs. Manslield, 
 the lady who had seen Jack and Laura together at Newton 
 Abbot station, happened to be in the branch Bank oi 
 
AN UMEXPlXrEl) GUEST 
 
 191 
 
 England in Plymouth. The manager, for the time being, 
 chanced to be a friend and fellow gossip of hers. Taking 
 up a cheque which lay on the counter, he pushed it across 
 to her, saying, as he pointed to the signature : 
 
 "I think you know this young baronet, Mrs. Mansfield? 
 What a pity that he should have got into a scrape of this 
 sort I ' 
 
 Mrs. Mansfield read the cheque. It was one for one 
 hundred pounds, and payable to the order of Laura 
 Luscombe ! Turning it over, she perceived the young 
 lady's name signed in full on the back. Mrs. Mansfield 
 went back to Horrabridge with a fresh proof for her 
 daughter Blanche of the truth of the scandal about Sir 
 John Treleaven. 
 
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CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 ANGRY HEARTS. 
 
 ^HE cause of the Triscotts' sudden reappearance 
 in Plymouth was an unforeseen one. On the 
 previous evening, George Triscott had had a 
 stroke of good luck. At the conclusion of the 
 day's shooting, he had found a telegram awaiting him in 
 the house. He had not yet been home long enough to 
 wish to get another ship ; and yet this was what he and the 
 two girls dreaded might be its import, as they stood 
 irresolutely eyeing the ominous yellow envelope. These 
 yellow envelopes ! are they not frequently obnoxious to 
 soldier and sailor alike? Savouring of leave stopped, 
 sudden orders to India or the West Coast — in fact, always 
 to ^, « mistrusted. 
 
 " Confound it 1 " said George, " I'm sure it's to order 
 me off again. I'm afraid to open it ! " 
 
 " Give it me," said Rose, " I'll open it. We may as 
 well know the worst at once." 
 
 Suiting the action to the word, and with more apparent 
 anxiety than she generally thought it "good form" to 
 display about anything, Miss Trefry tore open the cover, 
 A pleasant surprise was the result. The telegram was from 
 the admiral, newly appointed commander-in-chief at 
 
ANGRY HEARTS 
 
 193 
 
 ) > 
 
 
 Plymouth, who happened to be an elder brother of 
 George's late captain on board the Raven, It offered 
 George Triscott the flag lieutenancy. In the event of his 
 accepting, he was to proceed at once to Devonport, and to 
 get Admiralty House ready for the reception of the admiral 
 and his family. 
 
 Of course George accepted this piece of good fortune, 
 which meant for him several years of home service and 
 possible promotion at the end of it. When George had 
 been only a midshipman on board the Satellite^ the new 
 commander-in-chief had commanded that vessel, then 
 cruising on the Pacific station. Being a sportsman him- 
 self, and finding young Triscott intelligent in all apper- 
 taining to sport, the then captain, now Admiral Redvers, 
 had been wont, when at Mazattan or Vancouver, to take 
 the young fellow ashore with him. Either when shooting 
 the curious hares that frequent the former place, or if 
 engaged in slaying the deer or the salmon at the latter 
 island, George had acquitted himself in a way that de- 
 lighted the heart of his skipper, who had never since 
 forgotten him. 
 
 It was due, however, to the excellent report he had had 
 of Triscott from his brother when one day he had enquired 
 of him, " How the youngster he liked so much formerly was 
 getting on as a sailor ? " that Admiral Redvers had deter- 
 mined, unsolicited, to make him his flag lieutenant, to the 
 rejection of others who had nothing but interest to fit them 
 for the post. 
 
 The appointment broke up the party at Tristillian. 
 Luckily for George all the shooting was done before he got 
 this notice to move. Rose said it was impossible that 
 George could make proper arrangeuients to render 
 
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194 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 Admiralty House fit for occupation by ladies, without 
 the assistance of some of the sex ; and, as he was of the 
 same opinion, it was agreed that the two girls should 
 accompany him to Plymouth, and with him occupy the 
 house in Tamar Terrace, until joined by William Triscott ; 
 after that they would repair to Penallyn Hall for Christmas. 
 Thus had come about the rencontre on the steps of the 
 " Duke of Cornwall," where, as proper notice had not been 
 given to have the house prepared for them, the trio pro- 
 posed stopping a night. It was the merest chance that 
 Hemmings had not also been of the party. Fortunately, 
 however, although he had accompanied his fiancee and the 
 others to the Millbay station, he had, on arrivr.l, imme- 
 diately taken a cab and driven down to the " Admiral's 
 Hard " to rejoin his ship. Thus, fortunately, what might 
 have caused a painful scene, where so many interests, loves, 
 and hates were concerned, had Hemmings but crossed the 
 road with the Triscotts, was by the merest chance avoided. 
 There were aching hearts enough as it was. Of course 
 Ada had taken in every detail of Laura's dre^s, face, and 
 figure in this momentary meeting, and of course, after it 
 was over, she felt she hated Jack's companion, knowing 
 instinctively who she was even before her cousin had asked 
 of George : 
 
 " Is that the girl ? " And received the reply : 
 
 " Yes, that is Miss Luscombe." 
 
 Miss Trefrr elevated her chin, and, with an air of frigid 
 contempt, possible only to a well-bred and well-brought-up 
 Englishwoman, said : 
 
 "Then I think Sir John Treleaven has either very little 
 knowledge of the world, or else he is a more hardened 
 reprobate even than 1 thought him, to appear publicly in a 
 
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 ANGRY HEARTS 
 
 195 
 
 place where he is so well known with that disreputable 
 womaij." 
 
 Ada turned very white, but said nothing; she had 
 nothing to say. What did it matter to her ? What was 
 Sir John Treleaven to her that she should take any 
 interest in his actions? Was she not the promised bride 
 of another? Had she not with her own lips told him 
 so no longer ago than yesterday ? Oh I but he was 
 taking a terrible revenge upon her. What a raging storm 
 of angry passion was in her heart ! But two short months 
 ago nothing would have persuaded her that she could 
 ever be capable of such feelings. She could never after- 
 wards tell which she had felt most in the presence of the 
 girl whom he had led astray — a feeling of intense hatred 
 or of infinite pity for her, or whether her sensations to- 
 wards Jack partook most of hatred, or passionate, jealous 
 love. One thing she knew — of one thing she felt a cold 
 and sickening certainty — that she had for herself made a 
 miserable mistake in promising to marry Richard Hem- 
 mings. But the mistake was made and so was the promise, 
 and no mean self-commiseration should ever tempt her to 
 break it. Her pride — a ruling passion in Ada — was galled 
 at the thought that the world should know that she was 
 breaking her heart about a man who, while professing to 
 love her, had first proposed to one woman, and then vilely 
 seduced a second. " It was beneath her even to think of 
 him." But in spite of the concluding phrase, which she 
 repeated constantly to herself, there was all that day a 
 strange glitter in her usually soft and lustrous eyes which 
 was but the slight outward token of the madness that raged 
 in her heart. A very different feeling this to any she had 
 ever experienced before; even when she had overheard 
 
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 ADA TRI6C0TT 
 
 the proposal in the grotto. Then she had been grieycd — 
 no«r she was affronted, maddened, and enraged. She felt 
 fit to do any desperate action, and was positively afraid 
 of being left alone with her own thoughts. All day her 
 fingers were twitching to grasp a knife, and with one blow 
 end her misery. End it ! Death itself could not end it 1 
 Truly she had loved this man ! 
 
 When Captain Hemmings came up from his ship that 
 afternoon to see his^a«^^^, he could not understand her 
 nervous, excited state. But what he could understand was 
 that, for the first time in her life, she was rude, and 
 aggressively so. She treated him to the curtest of answers, 
 and delivered them in a manner which seemed to show 
 that his presence was distasteful to her. When, rather 
 astonished, he in turn showed that he did not like such 
 treatment, some of the rage that was inwardly consuming 
 her burst out, and, stamping on the floor, she told him 
 if he did not like her manner he had better stop away 
 altogether; and then, ashamed and miserable^ Ada fled 
 from the room. 
 
 Captain Hemmings turned in vain to Rose Trefry for 
 some explanation of this exhibition of a temper he had never 
 supposed Ada capable of possessing. 
 
 When he had left her a few hours before, her manner 
 had been, if not exactly affectionate, at least as friendly as 
 usual ; he returned to find her become a perfect fury — a nice 
 commencement this for an engagement ! 
 
 Miss Trefry either would not, or could not, give any 
 explanation beyond saying : 
 
 "That she thought her cousin was unyell, that she had 
 been very silent all day and refused to eat anything," which 
 lent a semblance of truth to this theory. 
 
ANGRY HEARTS 
 
 197 
 
 To tell the truth, Rose had very strong suspicions as to 
 the cause of Ada's agitation, but she was too much of a 
 woman of the world to question her, or pretend to take any 
 notice. She was fond of Ada, and though somewhat 
 toughened by the wear and tear of several London seasons, 
 she was not entirely unfeeling nor unsympathetic. 
 
 But she had made up her mind that Ada must marry 
 Captain Heiumings; it was a most desirable match, and 
 would, she was sure, be for her happiness in the end. 
 And now, she would not put her finger in the pie, and 
 perhaps make mischief. "Least said was soonest mended !'* 
 Indeed, it was possible that Captain Hemmings had said 
 or done something to annoy her cousin ! This Captain 
 Hemmings indignantly denied. And Rose had no more 
 sug.,'estions to make ; so, after a few commonplace remarks, 
 he was obliged to take his leave. 
 
 Miss Rose sat on in the empty drawing-room, with her 
 piece of crewel-work in her lap ; a smile hovered on her 
 lips as she inwardly congratulated herself on her tact and 
 discretion. 
 
 "Tell him of our havinci; met Sir John and that horrid 
 little wretch ! No, indeed, I'm not so stupid." And then 
 her thoughts turned on the " horrid little wretch." " A 
 pretty little wretch too " — Rose could not help acknow- 
 ledging this, even to herself — "and so they had been 
 staying at the hotel since the day before." She had found 
 this out from her brother, who in his anger against Tre- 
 leaven had been easily misled by a remark from the 
 confidential waiter, who was no doubt anxious to show 
 his intimate acquaintance with the baronet and his doings. 
 " Upon my word," thought Rose, " it is the greatest piece 
 of impudence I've ever heard of. It's downright disgusting 
 
 
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 198 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 to be in this hotel. I suppose they're coming back here 
 Only it's too late, I'd go out of it now." 
 
 But nothing must be said to Ada to worry her now, and 
 Rose, stifling her virtuous wrath, went to try to get Ada to 
 take seme tea. 
 
 Captain Hemmings walked slowly back to his ship, 
 racking his brains to think what had happened to put Ada 
 into such a vixenish humour ; but he could think of no- 
 thing to account for it. He had no notion of taking her 
 at her word and stopping away altogether. No ! on the 
 contrary, he felt rather a deeper admiration for her after 
 this little display of temper. 
 
 " How magnificent she looks when in a rage ! " said he 
 to himself. And he never said anything truer. With the 
 heightened colour of her cheek, which left nothing but a 
 pearly band of white skin against her jet-black and luxuriant 
 hair ; with her head thrown back defiantly, her eyes flashing 
 and nostrils dilated ; with bosom heaving and hands 
 clenched, Ada looked no longer a girl, soft and tender, 
 made to be petted and caressed; she looked a splendid 
 woman, and one with whom it would be dangerous to 
 trifle. 
 
 As Richard Hemmings strode moodily away, he too 
 was secretly congratulating himself on havins; broken with 
 Laura, although he was by no means sure of having quite 
 done with that young lady yet. 
 
 "I should not care," he was thinking, "after this 
 specimen of what Ada can be, that she should at any 
 time discover that little liaison, if it still continued. I 
 fancy I might under such circumstances be made to pass 
 a very mauvais quart d'heure ! for it is evident, that what- 
 ever the cause may be, Ada has in her a somc'.hlr? 
 
ANGRY HEARTS 
 
 199 
 
 dangerous when roused. By Jove ! " he continued, *' how 
 beautiful she did look just now !" 
 
 Hemmings was a man with whom physical beauty went 
 a great way, and he was on the whole rather pleased 
 at having discovered it in Ada ir a new form. It flattered 
 his vanity to think that henceforth so much beauty was to 
 belong to him alone. He was a man fond of variations. 
 He tired of a woman if he found her ever the same, as had 
 been the too loving and trusting Laura. Of a calm, calcu- 
 lating temperament himself, he even secretly determined 
 that, when they were married, he would occasionally do 
 his best to rouse Ada to the state of mind in which he had 
 found her this afternoon, that he might have the pleasure 
 of contemplating at his leisure that phase of her beauty. 
 But he was a great deal too cautious to dream of provoking 
 any such scenes before she was irrevocably his. 
 
 "Time enough," he thought, " to make her pay for this 
 unwarrantable flare-up when she is Mrs. Hemmings — then 
 I shall not mind if I occasionally make her look angry 
 again I '* 
 
 
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CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE MEETING IN GEORGE STREET. 
 
 DAY or two after this, Ada and Rose were 
 doing a little shopping in George Street 
 previous to their departure for Penallyn. 
 They were unaccompanied by either George 
 or Hemmings, having, it being a band afternoon, given 
 them a rendezvous at the mignificent Guildhall a little 
 later on, when the band would cause all the inhabitants of 
 the "three towns," who were anybody or nobody, to as- 
 semble in that splendid building. 
 
 The two girls were just coming out of Spearman's well- 
 known shop, where they had been to see if the " Royal 
 Devonshire Serge" was really as good an article as the 
 advertisement in the Graphic and other papers would have 
 us believe. We conclude that the inspection was satis- 
 factory, as they had given extensive orders for serge dresses 
 of the warmest description, calculated to resist the strongest 
 Cornish blasts. 
 
 As they emerged from the shop, Ada was nearly 
 knocked down by a young lady hurrying down the street 
 towards the four-faced clock known as " Derry's clock," 
 which stands at the crossing below. Nellie Watson — for it 
 was she — without evincing the smallest surprise, com- 
 menced, in her usual brusque manner : 
 
THE MEETING IN GEORGE STREET 201 
 
 " What, Ada Triscott, that you ? Glad to see you, but 
 you ought to have better manners than to get in a young 
 woman's way when she's going to meet her young man. 
 Haven't seen you since the picnic. Dear me, what a long 
 time ago that was ! " 
 
 Ada was not so ready, as Nellie appeared to be, to 
 forget that, at the said picnic, she had been decidedly 
 ungracious to her friend at parting. She was a little taken 
 aback, so simply said : 
 
 " How do you do, Nellie ? " adding, " my cousin Rose," 
 by way of an introduction, which was acknowledged by 
 Nellie with a casual nod, and : 
 
 " I think we've met before. Miss Trefry, haven't we ? " 
 for Nellie never forgot faces or names. ** Come along, 
 Ada, and be introduced to my young man; he's been 
 waitir? for me underneath the four-faced deceiver for the 
 last half-hour at least. Such a nice little Joey as he is, 
 too ! It's a shame to try his constancy any longer." 
 
 The girls both laughed, while Ada, finding her tongue, 
 said : 
 
 " What, Nellie, have you taken to the Marines ? " 
 
 " Why not ? " said Miss Watson. •' I assure you no 
 respectable young woman can be wi,thout a young man in 
 these days. Can she. Miss Trefry ? And so, as since Jack 
 Treleaven's been away I've not had one fit for pnything, 
 I'm educating my little marine to fill his place. By-the-bye, 
 have you seen Jack Treleaven lately ? ** 
 
 Nellie had not yet learned anything that had transpired 
 since she had herself despatched that gentleman from 
 Horrabridge station with her blessing and a packet of 
 sandwiches, honestly hoping that things would come right 
 between him and Ada Triscott. The question was put 
 
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 202 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 plainly therefore, looking Ada straight in the face the 
 while. 
 
 " No, yes, no — that is, twice," replied Ada, confusedly, 
 and colouring painfully as she answered. 
 
 Rose Trefry groaned in spirit, but, true to her maxim of 
 non-interference, held her tongue and left Ada to fight her 
 own battle. 
 
 " * No, yes, no — that is, twice 1 ' Well, that's a queer sort 
 of an answer. It may do for the inhabitants of South 
 Devon or Cornwall, but I'm afraid we Plymothians are 
 not educated up to the pitch that we can understand its 
 ambiguity. What do you mean, Ada?" 
 
 " I mean that I have seen Sir John Treleaven, but have 
 hardly exchanged two words with him. Nor am I ever 
 anxious to speak to him more. A man who has behaved 
 as he has must not be surprised if he forfeits his friends," 
 replied Ada, haughtily, and quite unhesitatingly now ; 
 "and," she continued, "lam surprised, Nellie, that you 
 should care to mention his name." 
 
 " Hoity-toity, what rubbish ! " said Nellie — but at this 
 juncture the " young man " was seen approaching. " Go 
 away," said Nellie, imperiously, " I don't want you yet. 
 No, come back," as he was meekly obeying. "There, 
 Miss Trefry, Mr. Jackson. Now you two can talk to one 
 another while 1 am having it out with Ada." 
 
 In spite of her usual aplomb^ Miss Trefry was slightly 
 astonished at this sudden introduction to the " Joey \ " but 
 she had to take Hobson's choice, and talk to him or 
 nobody, for Nellie had carried Ada off up the street again. 
 We will follow them and their conversation, leaving Rose 
 and her marine, who 'vas a sensible, good-looking young 
 fellow enough, or he would have been no friend of Nellie 
 
THE MEETING IN GEORGE STREET 203 
 
 Warson's, to make the best of each other. Nellie was 
 speaking. 
 
 " N <w, then, Ada, what do you mean about Jack ? 
 Surely you don't believe that cock-and-bull story about the 
 maid of the mill ? " 
 
 " I am sorry to say that not only is it impossible 
 to do otherwise than mistrust him, but also that it is 
 no cock-and-bull story at all. I am forced to believe 
 it whether I will or no. I must believe the evidence 
 of my eyes, and I am reluctantly obliged to own that 
 with my own eyes I have seen the most convincing proof 
 of his shocking behaviour." 
 
 Poor Ada ! She looked as she felt, sad and grieved. 
 
 Nellie opened her eyes very wide indeed at this state- 
 ment, and was about to speak when she was interrupted. 
 
 " I want to ask you a question, Nellie. Did Jack " (the 
 old familiar name came to her lips in spite of herself) *' did 
 Jack ever propose to you ? " 
 
 It was now Nellie's turn to blush ; but, as they had 
 turned down a side street, fortunately there was no one to 
 note and chronicle sue' an unusual phenomenon as Miss 
 Watson in the act of blushing. Nellie stopped short, and, 
 looking Ada straight in the face, replied : 
 
 " No, Ada, never ! Why do you ask ? " 
 
 " I thought I heard him do it at the picnic," said Ada, 
 stiffly; for she imagined Nellie was telling her a lie. 
 "George and I were driven by the rain under a tree in 
 front of a little cave. I heard your voices, and he seemed 
 to me to be proposing to you. We were not eavesdropping, 
 but he spoke so plainly that I heard morf than I wanted to 
 before I could get away." 
 
 " My dear child," said Nellie, " I am so sorry. This, 
 
 
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 \.;- 
 
lAfltfi 
 
 204 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 % 
 
 "X] 
 
 .9 
 
 then, accounts for your estrangement from him after that 
 day. It was only a joke — a joke of doubtful taste, perhaps 
 — 1 am afraid some of my jokes are. I had got tired of his 
 eternal fish talk, and told him to say something interesting. 
 He could think of nothing, so I told him to propose to me. 
 He did as he was told, but, as he didn't put sufhcient passion 
 into it, I made him do it over and over again. I think he 
 did so altogether nine or ten times, in different styles, and 
 I refused him as regularly. I wonder which proposal it 
 was you heard?" and Nellie smiled rather sadly at the 
 recollection. 
 
 " It was very real," said Ada. " It must have been the 
 tenth proposal. I did not wait for your reply, and have 
 wondered what it was ever since. It makes no matter one 
 way or the other now, though. I myself am engaged to be 
 married ! " This with a heavy sigh. 
 
 " Well, Ada, since you tell me that, it shows that you 
 cannot have cared very much about Jack. Indeed, if you 
 ever had, you would have taken the trouble to have asked 
 either him or me sooner what you have asked me 
 now. We should not have told you lies. It isn't in our 
 line. I am not given to expressing my feelings, but let me 
 tell you this — I have such an opinion of Jack Treleaven's 
 honour, and I know him to be such a thorough gentleman, 
 that had he been in earnest that day in the cave, instead of 
 in jest, I should, whether I accepted him or Lot, have con- 
 sidered that he was conferring an honour upon me in asking 
 me to become his wife. But I knew then as I know now 
 that he loves you and no one else. When that story was 
 set on foot of his running away with Laura Luscombe, 1 
 found it impossible to believe the strong circumstantial 
 evidence brought against him. But it was strong, and I was 
 
THE MEETING IN GEORGE STREET 205 
 
 at last forced in part to believe it. I thought perhaps in his 
 soft-hearted ness — for he is very soft-hearted — that he might 
 have been wheedled into it by the designing little girl her- 
 self, who, anxious to make a noise and to attract attention, 
 was willing, as she could not be a lady, to do so even at the 
 loss of her own good name, by running away with so well- 
 known and popular a man as Jack Treleaven. I believed 
 she was capable of it, if only to spite me ; for she hated me 
 as the devil does holy water. I do not entirely blame l.er 
 for that either, it has been my fault. I might have shown 
 her a little more consideration upon the few occasions on 
 which I have come in contact with her. Who knows, but 
 that by treating her kindly, instead of snubbing her, I miglit 
 have prevented her falling into the hands of the scoundrel 
 who has wrecked her life ? I am afraid to name him now, 
 Ada, lest I should at the same time name the man who is 
 your intended husband. Don't interrupt me, you can speak 
 presently. Mind ! you have not told me who he is yet, and 
 I may be mistaken in my surmises ; but whai I wish to im- 
 press upon you is that Jack Treleaven is not the villain ; 
 and that he never did — except as a passing acquaintance — 
 have anything to say to this Miss Luscombe. Much less 
 has he been the destroyer of herself, and of all peace and 
 comfort in her father's home. No, Ada Triscott, you have 
 made a great mistake — you have, without properly investi- 
 gating or, as far as I know, asking a single question of Sir 
 John Treleaven himself, accepted the popular version of a 
 public scandal. By so doing, you have, whether you loved 
 him or not, thrown over an honest heart that I firmly be- 
 lieve beat alone for you. And now you tell me you are 
 engaged to be married. You, who vere a chort time ago 
 notoriously in love with one man, have now gone headlong 
 
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206 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
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 W 
 
 Kn 
 
 to your destruction by engaging yourself to another, and one 
 who is not fit for the society of either women or men of 
 honour. Ada Triscott, you ought to be ashamed of 
 yourself ! " 
 
 Nellie was white with emotion. As she went on, she 
 became more and more worked up. She was very different 
 to the "chaffy" Nellie Watson of every day now. Fnied 
 with the righteousness of her cause; anxious for Jack's 
 happiness, which she esteemed far higher than her own ; 
 anxious to save Ada from falling into the hands of a villaia ; 
 no wonder if she was moved ! No wonder that she spoke 
 earnestly ! 
 
 Ada, too, was white and trembling. What was she to 
 believe — to understand ? What did Nellie mean by these 
 stories against the man she was to marry ? although it might 
 be a mistake yet, for she had not named him. Oh ! if only 
 she could believe in Jack's innocence as painted to her by 
 this his staunchest friend. But she must reply. Although, 
 with her own eyes, she had beheld the proofs of Jack's guilt, 
 it yet behoved her to hear the name that NeUie withheld 
 from her. 
 
 " Nellie Watson," she said, at length, " I am but a young 
 girl, and may have been very foolish. You are a woman of 
 the world; and you have spoken to me as woman never 
 spoke yet. Explain your meaning, and name the man you 
 have been hinting at. This is due to me." 
 
 *' Come into the main street, I shall tell you there, for 
 there we shall part, I suppose. And now," said she, as 
 they regained George Street, "the name of Laura Lus- 
 combe's destroyer and your future husband are, I believe, 
 one and the same — Richard Hemmings, commander of the 
 Ade/au/e." 
 
THE MEETING IN GEORGE STREET 207 
 
 At that moment, Hemmings, who had been looking for 
 Ada, came up to them. 
 
 " Ask him," said Nellie, and without the sh'ghtest sign 
 in return for his salute, she swept past him towards the 
 GuildhalL 
 
 i I 
 
 
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 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 HEMMINGS THE IMMACULATE! 
 
 ^^ T was fortunate for Captain Hemmings that he 
 turned up just as he did, for perhaps, had he 
 been a little longer before making his ap- 
 pearance, Nellie might have supported her 
 assertion with some proofs, or with a force of conviction 
 equal to proof. As it was, the only effect of her sudden 
 statement was to take poor Ada's breath away. Ada had 
 quite unconsciously been pleased to hear Jack praised by 
 Nellie, and to hear the assertion made by the lattc of his 
 innocence. But when it came to accusing Hemmings — 
 why, then, she simply did not believe that Nellie knew 
 what she was talking about. 
 
 Ada had always looked upon Richard Hemmings as 
 the very soul of honour. Indeed, it was as much from the 
 high estimate she had formed of his character, both from 
 what she had personally seen of him, and from her brother 
 George's praises, as from any other reason that she had 
 accepted his proffered love. Had Nellie been really 
 anxious to convince Ada, she should have chosen another 
 manner and greater deliberation in her manner of doing it. 
 It is not easy for any one to believe in an instant that the 
 person, who has always seemed to behave honourably and 
 openly, is no more than a villain and a scoundrel; nay, 
 
HEM MINGS THE IMMACULATE] 
 
 209 
 
 more, if the one thus accused happens to be on the spot, 
 ready and willing to refute the charge made against him as 
 a calumny, the chances are considerably in favour of his 
 being believed rather than the calumniator. 
 
 This was what Hemmings did. 
 
 Ada, in her agitation, and in reply to his inquiry: 
 "What was the matter with Miss Watson?" told him 
 everything that had just transpired. 
 
 Astonished as he was that Nellie should know the 
 truth, he did not lose his presence of mind. The line he 
 took was to treat Miss Watson's utterances as those of a 
 mad woman, to whose random words no credit should be 
 given. He did not fail to dwell upon her habitual eccen- 
 tricity, and affected to pity her for what he pretended to 
 regard as a complete breakdown of her nervous system 
 and brain-power. He did not fail to support the state- 
 ment of his own innocence with regard to Laura — whom 
 he said he hardly knew by sight — by lying freely about 
 Jack Treleaven. It had grieved him much, he said, to see 
 her in Jack's company at Paris, etc., etc. 
 
 All these lies were the more easily believed by Ada, 
 owing to the unlucky rencontre with our hero and Miss 
 Luscombe at the door of the *' Duke of Cornwall Hotel," 
 of which also she now apprised Captain Hemmings. He 
 thanked his stars silently that fortune had played such a 
 card into his hands. And well he might I He made the 
 very best use of it. 
 
 When he found that he had sufficiently imposed upon 
 Ada's credulity, to have no further fears for the present, he 
 said in conclusion, with an eye to the future : 
 
 "And now, my dear Ada, I think I must ask you to 
 piouiise not to have any more communication with Miss 
 
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 14 
 
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 Ml !l 
 
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 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 '111 .. 
 
 Watson, either perf5onally or by letter. It is evident that 
 she is touched in her head, and her line of insanity 
 is a most dangerous one. Pitying her and her delusions 
 much as I do, I think it advisable, for the sake of the 
 peace of mind of both of us, that you should listen to 
 no more of her ravings. So promise me, darling, that 
 you will not." 
 
 Ada gave the required promise. Indeed, she could not 
 otherwise account for the attack made upon h^x fiance, than 
 in the way that Hemmings did. 
 
 " Poor Nellie ! " she thought, " she must indeed be 
 quite off her head." 
 
 But, for all Captain Hemmings' apparent composure, 
 he was inwardly greatly disturbed at the turn affairs had 
 taken. 
 
 "Who knows," thought he, "but that this girl will 
 make mischief with others, who will take more pains to 
 investigate the truth of her statements, than does Ada 
 herself?" 
 
 As a precautionary measure, he hurried the departure 
 of Miss Trefry and herself into Cornwall, persuading the 
 latter, who was by no means loth to leave Plymouth, that 
 it would be as well if she arrived a day or two before her 
 uncle at Penallyn, which had been so long unoccupied. 
 He himself accompanied them the next day on the long 
 and tedious journey to Penzance, from whence they were 
 within a drive of Mr. Triscott's residence. Hemmings also 
 thought it necessary to tell George what had happened. 
 
 George was, as we know, an intimate friend of the 
 Watsons ; but he was disgusted at Nellie's conduct, be- 
 lieving, as he did, that it was Jack Treleaven alone who 
 had been concerned in the enleve7nent of which Nellie 
 
y .^';| 
 
 HEMl.IINGS THE IMMACULATE! 
 
 211 
 
 lie 
 
 accused his future brother-in-law. There is nothing Uke 
 having the first word in any important subject ! 
 
 After George had talked it all over with Hemmings, 
 Nellie Watson might have sworn until she was black in the 
 face, but anything she could have said to the commander's 
 detriment would not have been believed by George Triscott. 
 He, too, thought Nellie must be a little cracked, or that she 
 had been made the victim of some gross misrepresentations 
 on the part of Sir John Treleaven. 
 
 " If it is his fault," said George, referring to Jack, " I 
 think it infernally mean of him ; personally I don't care 
 what the fellow does, or who he runs away with ; if he ran 
 away with every woman in the place, it wouldn't matter to 
 me, since I have ceased to reckon him as one of my ac- 
 quaintances. But, Hemmings, old fellow, I do think that 
 for him to saddle his misdoings on you is about one of the 
 meanest things I ever heard of. Of course, though, you 
 have my sympathy, and will have my uncle's also, for I 
 shall tell him, you know, old fellow ; but your character is 
 too well assured for any one to believe a word of it, so it 
 really doesn't matter. I shouldn't bother my head about it 
 if I were you.'* 
 
 Captain Hemmings of course expressed his gratitude for 
 his friend's sympathy on the occasion of his being so tra- 
 duced by the fair Nellie. He also agreed with George that 
 the conduct of a man who would deliberately saddle another 
 
 with an affair that he had committed himself was "d d 
 
 mean ! " Poor George ! he little thinks what a fool his 
 friend is making both of himself and his sister while thus 
 reciprocating his indignation. 
 
 " I wish MoUie Watson was here now," continued 
 George : " she has some sense. If she comes back, I shall 
 
 r- 
 
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 tliJ. Kii, 
 
212 
 
 ADA TR I SCOTT 
 
 m a 
 
 tell her that that fellow has been lying to her sister and 
 making a fool of her." 
 
 "I think you had better not, old fellow," replied his 
 companion. " Unless she starts the subject, it is better to 
 let sleeping dogs lie. And perhaps, after all, this is just 
 some sudden little spite emanating from Nellie Watson's 
 cracked brain, of which her sister neither knows nor will 
 hear anything. You know, that fellow proposing to her 
 when you and Ada overheard him may have had something 
 to do with it. It is possible that Miss Watson, unhappy in 
 her own love affair — for I conclude it was one with this 
 Treleaven — is now trying to pay off some old spite against 
 poor Ada, who of course we uoth know did, for a time, have 
 some little weakness for him ; your uncle foolishly en- 
 couraging him about the house, not knowing what sort 
 of fellow he was. Upon my word, not the sort of man I 
 would care to let near my sisters. However, don't let's say 
 any more about it." 
 
 So far Hemmings had come out of it well, thoroughly 
 well, having, as the result of Nellie Watson's accusation, 
 earned the increased confidence of the whole Triscott 
 family. 
 
 George had plenty to do these times, so, although a few 
 days before Christmas Mollie Watson returned to her 
 paternal mansion, he did not go out to see her. Rose 
 Trefry had also, by her captivations at Tristillian, served in 
 a great measure to eliminate any old softness this young 
 sailor might have felt in his particularly susceptible heart 
 towards Mollie Watson. He was now quite convinced that 
 his cousin Rose was the only one he had ever loved, and the 
 one girl who could make him happy. He did not in the least 
 mind being patronised by her — rather liked it, on the con- 
 
HEM MINGS THE IMMACULATE I 
 
 213 
 
 trary. If she told him he had no manners, and was only a 
 rough sailor, he agreed heartily with her, and would tell her 
 "that she alone could improve him and make him fit for 
 the grand monde of which she was the brightest ornament." 
 Ada began to think that George must be really in love thifs 
 time. Rose was sure of it. But then her naive belief in 
 herself and her attractions, which really were considerable, 
 was quite enough to cause this assurance. George was 
 almost sure of it too ; but then he had been sure in so 
 many different cases before that when, one day, he confided 
 the fact to an old chum and shipmate, who had served vnth 
 him for four years on board the Raven, he was met with an 
 intolerably aggressive fit of laughter from his " pal." George 
 had never been able to keep his love affairs to himself, and 
 they had always been a standing joke with his brother 
 officers. 
 
 " Really in love at last, are you, old man ? " said his 
 friend. " I'd like to know when you ever were anything 
 else but * really in love ' ? Let's see," telling them off 
 on his fingers as he mentioned the ladies' names. " There 
 was the fair Lucy during the month we were detained at 
 Gibraltar. There was Miss Watson before we sailed — that's 
 two. There was that pretty planter girl you and Dickson 
 came to loggerheads about at Colombo — that's three. 
 There was Minnie Hodgson, the merchant's daughter, 
 who quite did for you at Singapore — that's four. There 
 was that lovely snuff-coloured creature at Hong Kong, 
 whom you vowed you would make Mrs. Triscott — only 
 think of Snuffy, the adorable creature ! while I pause 
 before beginning the other hand. Snuffy — poor little 
 Snuffy ! Now for number six." 
 
 But number six remains unrecorded, for an act of 
 
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 i 
 
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 i! : 
 
214 
 
 ADA' TRISCOTT 
 
 violence took place before she, .00, could be enumerated 
 by this gentleman ot ihe loo-retentive memory. I!iit George 
 remains convinced that Rose Trefry is alone the true 
 "queen of his soul^" even Snufly's menjory is but a 
 dream 1 
 
CHAPTER XXVL 
 
 ,) 
 
 MOLLIES RETURN. 
 
 • RS, MoUie had returned from her visit to 
 Wales. It had come to a close sooner than 
 was expected, as the old lady had caught a 
 cold, and had made up her mind that nothing 
 short of spending the winter at Nice or Mentone would 
 effect a cure. She would have taken Mollie with her, but 
 the latter struck, and with reason. For it was only on 
 Friday that her hostess had determined on the Continental 
 trip, and on Saturday she was gone. 
 
 Neither MoUie's wardrobe nor her inclinations warranted 
 a departure for foreign parts on such short notice. She 
 had also, although by no means of a sentimental turn of 
 mind, that very English predilection for passing Christmas 
 at home. Mollie, therefore, reappeared at Moor Lodge 
 as suddenly, if not more so, than she had departed, much 
 to the satisfaction of her father and Nellie. Not that the 
 latter was very demonstrative on the occasion. It was not 
 her way. 
 
 " Oh, you're back, are you ! " had been her greeting, 
 when, on returning from a tramp on the moor, she tound 
 Mollie, looking fresher than ever, and toasting her toes at 
 the cheery wood fire. After a kiss, which between these 
 really devoied sisters wa.s a rare occurrence, the next 
 
 
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 2l6 
 
 ADA T/^ I SCOTT 
 
 question was t " Well, what did old mother give 
 
 you ? " for the godmother was a generous old person. 
 
 " Tonner ! " said Mollie, laconically, laughing merrily 
 at Nellie's eye to business, " and this ; " showir)g an old- 
 fashioned seal, cut with a skull and cross-bones, and bear- 
 ing for motto " Quis sepnrabit." 
 
 " I like that," said Nellie, after eyeing it attentively for 
 a minute with her head on one side, like a jackdaw or 
 raven. " (]ive it to me ! " and, like the jackdaw aforesaid, 
 making a grab at, and possessing herself of the article. 
 
 " All ri.Ljht, old girl, you can have it," said Mollie ; " it 
 will save my getting you a Christmas present that you'd 
 only grumble at, and making a hole in the * tenner.' I 
 don't care for skulls and cross-bones myself." 
 
 " Then that's settled ! " said Nellie, pocketing the seal ; 
 "there'll be no end to my correspondence now, I can tell 
 you. Won't I just skull and cross-bones my friends in the 
 future, that's all ! " 
 
 And she did " skull and cross-bones them " with a 
 vengeance for the next few weeks, so that everybody 
 declared, " Really, Nellie Watson gets queerer everv 
 day!" 
 
 The house at Horrabridge seemed more comfortable 
 after Mollie's return. There was now some chance for her 
 father to get a comfortable meal occasionally, and to be 
 sure of his having his tea properly made in the morning. 
 With Nellie's peculiar fits or occasional unsociability and 
 frequent unpunctuality, in Mollie's absence, the poor man 
 had often to forage for himself in the best way he could. 
 As it was never any use abusing Nellie herself, the worthy 
 man, who had been bottling up his resentment, had it all 
 out now upon his second daughter's return ; telhng Mollie 
 
MOLLIE'S RETURN 
 
 217 
 
 "she had no idea what a good-for-nothing her sister 
 was," and that he'd be hanged if he'd stop in the house 
 with her alone again, but go into Plymouth and live at 
 his club." 
 
 " I wish he would," said Nellie, " then there might be 
 some peace and quietness in the house ; he's done nothing 
 but abuse the servants from morning till night, so that 
 even Emma declared she would give warning. Didn't 
 you, Emma?" addressing the gaunt and privileged hand- 
 maiden. 
 
 She, being afraid of nobody, replied with a toss of her 
 head, and ignoring the speaker : 
 
 " Yes ; and indeed, Miss Mollie, it's been hawful 
 since you left. Nothink to eat, nothink to drink. The 
 master's temper frightful, and Miss Nellie's worse ! Fight- 
 ing like a couple of cock-sparrers all day long — it wasn't 
 fit for a respectable person to live in the 'ouse. I was 
 forced to tell master I should 'ave to go and live at my 
 club too." 
 
 ** Get out I " said Mr. Watson. 
 
 "Yes, sir, to my club, sir," replied Emma. 
 
 With this witticism, Emma, who was a six-footer, smiled 
 a ghastly smile. As it spread itself over her particularly 
 ugly but good-humoured face, she disappeared. She knew 
 how far she could go with impunity — '' like master, like 
 servant!" It was a quaint but happy household. Even 
 the biggest rows in that family usually ended in a joke and 
 a laugh all round. More especially when good-natured, 
 handsome Mollie was at home. 
 
 "Well, Emma, what's been going on?" asked Mollie, 
 cheerily, of the six-footer next morning, that hand-maiden 
 having, in honour of Mollie's return, come in to help her 
 
 I:; 
 
 i i 
 
2l8 
 
 ADA TK I SCOTT 
 
 to dress. A very unusual attention this, which MoHie 
 thought deserved to l)e rewarded by giving Emma a chance 
 of wliat she wanted, i.e., the use of her tongue. 
 
 ** Lor' bless you, miss, since you've been away we ain't 
 lately had nobody here nice at all, barring Mr. Treleaven — 
 Sir John, as he is now— what came to see Miss Nellie one 
 day. I wonder she'll have anythink to say to him now, 
 though 1 Hindeed, he's a queer party, although certainly a 
 nice gentleman, and 'as been nearly muidered." 
 
 Mollie knew nothing of recent events, so here Emma 
 had a splendid chance of telling a sensational story, which, 
 like all people of that class, was what she loved. She was 
 also of a romantic turn of mind, for all her height, and so 
 thought also her young man (height five feet two inches) to 
 whom she was always referring. 
 
 The story of Jack's adventures did not suffer by her 
 telling, for what Emma did not know she invented. When 
 Mollie expressed incredulity, she was immdiately told to 
 refer to the " young man," Jack Spriggs by name — a very 
 safe way of getting out of a difficulty. At last, Emma's 
 version of Jack Treleaven's recent history being exhausted, 
 Mollie asked what else had happened of note during her 
 absence. 
 
 " Well, Miss Mollie, Captain Lifton came here the day 
 you left 'ome, and seemed wonderful put out to find you 
 was gone. Hit's my impression that he's in love, for he 
 wouldn't 'ave no refreshments, nor nothink, although hi 
 did hinvite him in." 
 
 "In love!" said Mollie, laughing, but looking away. 
 " Why, Emma, what yarns you spin ! Who on earth can 
 Captain Lifton be in love with ? " 
 
 " Well, Miss Mollie, hin my private opinion, which Jack 
 
i 
 
 MOLL/E'S RETURN 
 
 219 
 
 Spriggs always says is to be relied on, Captain Lifton, he's in 
 love with a very 'andsome young lady, who doesn't live fifty 
 miles from Horrabridge. Hindccd, if you was just now to 
 look in the glass, miss, I shouldn't be very much surprised 
 if you was to get a sight of 'er ycnirself." 
 
 But to look in the glass was about the very last thing 
 Mollie cared to do at this particular moment ; on the con- 
 trary, she dived her face into a basin of water, telling the 
 excellent Emma her services were no longer required. With 
 "an 'aughty" toss of her head somewhere near the ceiling, 
 the romantic one went off to make some more than un- 
 usually violent and vicious bang-bangs at Nellie's door, 
 shouting out at the top of her voice to that obdurate young 
 lady. 
 
 " It's ten o'clock. Miss Nellie, hand hi'm just going to 
 clear the breakfast away. You'd better come down soon, 
 m- 
 
 )i 
 
 "That's a lie!" called out Nellie, flatly (as it was). 
 " Go away, or I'll pitch the water-can at you I " 
 
 Nellie was too old a bird to be caught with chaff like 
 this. The worthy Emma had tried it on too often before. 
 Nellie did not intend leaving her warm bed on such a mild 
 pretence as this ; and Emma knew better than to venture 
 within that sacred apartment uncalled for. No ! recollec- 
 tions of booby traps laid for her with said hot-water cans 
 were too fresh. Emma had upon the last occasion emerged 
 from Nellie's room literally two walking yards of pump- 
 water. 
 
 Oh, Emma I adorable friend of our youth ! Shouldst 
 thou ever in thy spare moments in Whiteley's show-rooms 
 lay down the mantle of newest pattern, to take up this the 
 latest thing in novels, deign, we pray thee, to remember that 
 
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220 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 in those days, ere the faithless Jack Spriggs fled headlong 
 from thy well-merited wrath, we too loved thee well. Truly 
 in good nature and willingness unequalled, in quaintness of 
 expression rare, in height regal, in " cheek " remarkable — 
 thou wast the queen of serving women \ 
 
 I I 
 
I )'■ 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 
 i- X 
 
 CHRISTMAS AT MOOR LODGE. 
 
 (( 
 
 UNG" was not long in hearing of Mollie's 
 return. He had met one of Mollie's 
 " devotees " who had just been at Horra- 
 bridge, who had apprised him of the fact. 
 
 But old " Bung " had had time for reflection. It was 
 some time since that ball at the assembly rooms, when he 
 had seemed to tread upon air rather than upon deal boards. 
 In the interim he had seen Jack thoroughly unhappy. Ask- 
 ing himself the cause of this unhappiness on the part of his 
 friend, the answer had been patent — Love ! He felt logical. 
 He put it into a syllogism, probably in false logic : 
 
 ** Jack is unhappy because in love. I too am in love. 
 Therefore I too shall be unhappy ! " 
 
 He went on further ; for he had, since the day of the 
 "mawkin," been particularly cautious how he acted on 
 impulse. At that time, he had, he owned to himself, acted 
 foolishly in kicking his pioatrate table about the room. But 
 his folly had been promptly punished by that room being 
 wrecked. 
 
 " What was the reason his room was wrecked ? " Same 
 answer — " Love ! " Another syllogism : ** My room was 
 wrecked because I was in love. I am still in love. My 
 prospects and happiness in life will be wrecked too ! " 
 
 ! . i 
 
 (l"| i}1 
 
222 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 Poor old fellow! Instead of rushing out to Horrabridge 
 by the next train, as another man would have done, he sat 
 by hipuself smoking, and painting at intervals, all day. He 
 found himself wondering why Mollie had returned so soon, 
 and the iniaginary rival again recurred to his mind. 
 
 Probably she was engaged to be married, and had 
 come back thus early to get her trousseau. "Oh, well, 
 after all, it will be better for me not lo see her under those 
 circumstances." And he proposed going away on leave — 
 on long leave — on January ist. 
 
 The end of December was nigh, and still Moor Lodge 
 saw him not ; and still he moped alone, and smoked and 
 painted, and he had occasional "goes" of wkisky-and-water. 
 The chances were, that this thoroughly good -hearted 
 " Bung," having left off beer and taken to whisky, would in 
 time have gone altogether to the bad. Beer agreed with 
 him — whisky did not. He was actually sometimes ill- 
 tempered. If the subalterns, after their wont, and full of 
 exuberance of spirits at their approaching departure on 
 leave, played him any of their little tricks, he resented them. 
 When they playfully substituted a liquid chiefly composed 
 of salt and water, for the half-filled tumbler that stood by 
 his side, he failed as formerly to see the joke. When the 
 junior subaltern of his company wittily removed the arm- 
 chair in which he was depositing himself after dinner, 
 thereby leaving him at full-length upon the floor. Captain 
 Lifton was positively offended. Unheard-of change ! When 
 the same young gentleman, who was a regular wag, drew a 
 picture representing an officer lying upon the floor, appa- 
 rently in a state of intoxication, a capsized brandy-and-soda 
 tumbler lying " convanient," and merely labelled it, " Bung 
 after mess," Captain Lifton actually had the bad ta^te to 
 
CHRISTMAS AT MOOR LODGE 
 
 223 
 
 remark that " he'd Bung him ; " and did so by making that 
 young gentleman, much to his surprise and disgust, do a 
 litde of the company's work, instead of, as usual, doing it all 
 himself. Yes — without a doubt, Bung was going utterly to 
 the bad. He could no longer enjoy practical jokes played 
 upon himself, and considered allusions to " sign-painting " 
 as little short of sacrilege. 
 
 The young officers did not understand it, and very 
 properly considered themselves defrauded of their un- 
 doubted rights. However, something happened to cause 
 a change. A note arrived for him the morning before 
 Christmas Day, which ran as follows : 
 
 "Dear Captain Lifton, 
 
 *' You have treated me shamefully in not coming out 
 to see me since my return. However, if you will come 
 and pass Christmas Day with us and stay the night, we will 
 forgive you. 
 
 '* Yours very sincerely, 
 
 " MoLLiE Watson. 
 
 " P.S. — Emma said this morning, she was afraid she 
 should never see you again, that you must "ave grown 
 'aughiy ' — I hope this is not the case ? " 
 
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 II;' 
 
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 iung 
 te to 
 
 After this note, " Bung " returned to his normal state 
 of placidity. 
 
 Christmas morning was bright and cheerful. There 
 had been sharp frost — a rime frost — in the night. This, 
 together with ihe previous slight fall of snow, made the 
 usual noble appearance of the tors and woods more noble 
 still. There is a certain dignity without pride, a loftiness 
 
224 
 
 ADA TRi SCOTT 
 
 without sublimity, a soft but majestic lieauty, which yet 
 conveys with it no sense of awe, peculiar to some few 
 places in our blest isle of the sea. This could be felt 
 and appreciated that Christmas morning by any person 
 walkin;^ up the Down from the little station at Horrabridge. 
 
 Lovely ! beautiful ! whaPa sense of the majestic, what 
 a spirit of religion seemed to steal over the senses while 
 gazing entranced over that beautiful scene ! Lifton was 
 not more than the rest of us a religious man ; but, as he 
 stood upon the slope of Roborough, he took off his hat 
 and solemnly thanked his Maker for being allowed to live 
 upon such a glorious day. 
 
 " Ice like morsels — hoar-frost like ashes," lay scattered 
 all around. Glittering, dazzling was the whiteness of the 
 crystals hanging from every bough, from every spray of 
 withered fern. He had not been to church, but here 
 under the pure canopy of heaven he devoutly offered up 
 his prayers. 
 
 He thought of a similar Christmas morn long ago, and 
 of a long-lost mother's earnest prayers for his future welfare. 
 The tears came into his eyes as he stood there bareheaded, 
 and thought of that mother at rest in the arms of Him 
 whose advent the joyful bells had that morning so merrily 
 rung out. Yes, his had been for years a peculiarly solitary 
 existence. Friendly with all, intimate with none; without 
 kith or kin since that mother had died, and left him at 
 the age of twenty-one sole master of his fortune and future. 
 Latterly Jack had come into his life, far more into his 
 life than he had known himself. 
 
 •' Poor old Jack ! " he thought, " I wish he was here 
 to-day. How I miss him ! I hope he will soon be happy 
 again and forget all his troul)les." And a prayer went up 
 
yet 
 
 few 
 
 felt 
 
 :ison 
 
 i«ige. 
 
 , and 
 el fare, 
 aded, 
 Him 
 errily 
 )litary 
 thout 
 im at 
 uture. 
 o his 
 
 here 
 
 lappy 
 
 |nt up 
 
 CHRISTMAS AT MOOR LODGE 
 
 225 
 
 from that honest heart for his chum, his almost brother. 
 Straight it ascended, as the prayer that had so many years 
 ago risen from a mother's loving heart for him. Truly 
 that prayer of long ago was now bearing the desired fruit. 
 Long he stood there in silent communion with all this 
 beautiful surrounding nature, the reader of all hearts. Who 
 shall say that those simple orisons, without definite form or 
 shape, offered up on the mountain side, were not as accept- 
 able as though uttered beneath some stately church roof, 
 with all its sacred attributes of white-robed clergy, its 
 studied forms and ceremonies ? 
 
 Meanwhile, Lifton was observed and by mortal eyes. 
 Returning from church and walking briskly up the hill, 
 Nellie and Mollie could not help seeing a man hat in hand, 
 standing on a prominent portion of the Down. Partially 
 turned away from them, they could not at first observe his 
 features; but, as they approached, keen-sighted Mollie 
 recognised his figure. 
 
 " Surely it's Captain Lifton ! " said she, " but what on 
 earth is he doing with his hat off like that on this cold, 
 frosty morning ? " 
 
 " Hush 1 don't make a noise, Mollie," replied her sister, 
 who had at once grasped the situation. " Nothing on earihy 
 I should sayj but something in heaven. Can't you see he's 
 praying ? " 
 
 They could now see his face, and were both struck 
 with the solemnity that o'erspread those usually merry 
 features. 
 
 " Let's pass quietly behind him," said Mollie, " I 
 shouldn't Uke to disturb him." 
 
 " Yes," said Nellie, quietly, " that^s a good man. How 
 I wiish I could pray like that; " and she signed heaviiy 
 
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 226 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 Their design to pass unnoticed was unsuccessful, for 
 one of them trod accidentally on a branch which, dry by 
 the frost, crackled under foot. Re-covering his nead, 
 Lifton turned. The girls could see that his eyes were still 
 wet. They greeted him quietly but warmly, and wished 
 him a happy Christmas. In spite of their wild dispositions 
 and random talk, both had far too good taste to allude to 
 the manner in which he had been occupied when they 
 came upon him. 
 
 How handsome and happy Mollie looks to-day ! How 
 dazzling her complexion, how clear her blue eyes, how 
 straightforward her glance ! Here are nc put-on airs — no 
 artificial ways; downright cordiality of welcome, without 
 any arriire pensee^ is stamped upon her face. She is glad 
 to see Lifton again, and not ashamed to show it. 
 
 Nellie's friend, the young marine, and a couple of 
 people belonging to the neighbourhood, completed the 
 party at dinner at Moor Lodge that day. Very jolly and 
 warm the house looked, and very tastefully was it bedecked 
 with red-berried holly and ivy leaves. 
 
 Mistletoe, too, was not wanting, although first it seemed 
 to be conspicuous by its absence. The fact was, there had 
 been a difficulty in procuring that necessary adjunct to all 
 Christmas festivities. But the stalwart Emma was not to 
 be done. And she it was who, on account of her height, 
 had arranged the greater part of the decorations, under the 
 young ladies' supervision. She threatened Jack Spriggs, 
 and he brought it ; but when the plant beloved by Druids 
 of old, and by young people of the present, was brought, 
 there was apparently no place left in which it might be placed 
 advantageously, every coign of vantage being othp'-wise 
 occupied. Emma and the young ladies stood in corisulta- 
 
CHRISTMAS AT MOOR LODGE 
 
 227 
 
 temed 
 
 te had 
 I to all 
 
 lOt to 
 leight, 
 
 ;r the 
 
 >riggs, 
 iruids 
 >ught, 
 blaced 
 wise 
 [isulta- 
 
 tion. The former, lost in thought, gazed lovingly on the 
 bush she held in her hand. 
 
 " I 'ave it, Miss Nellie," she exclaimed, at last, " the 
 very think, the halcove ! " 
 
 And in the alcove she hung it up, likewise placing a 
 sofa beneath it in the recess, which was ordinarily occupied 
 by a hat-rack and a couple of chairs. Partially shaded by 
 a heavy curtain, and partly concealed by a large stand of 
 flowers, this formed about as comfortable a little hiding- 
 place for two people as could be wished for. 
 
 Emma was a great woman in mind as well as body ! 
 Having hung the mistletoe to her own satisfaction, she did 
 not intend that it should waste itself on the desert air. 
 When, therefore, after dinner, the occupants of the dining- 
 room were waiting about between the hall and the drawing- 
 room until a few more neighbours arrived for a sociable 
 hop, Emma beckoned Mr. Jackson, the young marine, 
 tragically aside. 
 
 He followed her to the other end of the hall, wh:le the 
 others, wondering what she was up to, followed her with 
 their eyes. Drawing aside the curtain that obscured the 
 entrance to the alcove, the " six-footer " said, in her deepest 
 of stage-whispers, much resembling a groan as it resounded 
 in a deep bass monotone up the hall, pointing the while 
 with outstretched arm : 
 
 " Hit's in there, sir ; Miss Nellie 'elped to 'ang it 
 herself." 
 
 Leaving the ** Joey " blankly g.izing, she had whisked 
 away her two yards of womanhood, even before he had 
 grasped the sibyl's meaning. Much merriment was caused 
 in the hall by the event, but everybody was, as Emma had 
 intended they should be, enlightened as to the whereabouts 
 
 > 
 
 , I 
 
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 I \i 
 
228 
 
 ADA TR I SCOTT 
 
 I! 
 
 i! 
 
 of the mystic bush. Soon they commenced to dance, and 
 let us hope that the imparted infv)rination was taken 
 advantage of, as Emma's good-will deserved not to have 
 been exerted in vaui. She thought that every one who was 
 deemed worthy of the hospitahty of Moor Lodge should, 
 on ChristiTfias night at least, have the fullest opportunities 
 given them of enjoying themselves. 
 
 Whether others availed themselves of the shelter of the 
 alcove or not, one thing is certain, that, at rather an 
 advanced period of the evening, Moliie and Lifton were 
 comfortably ensconced upon the sofa in the recess. The 
 others, tired of dancing, had just settled down to play 
 round games ; for this was one of those evenings when 
 there was amusement for everybody, and everything was 
 tried in turn. 
 
 " I thought you were never coming to see us again, 
 Captain Lifton, and now I suppose you will be off on 
 leave. Oh, dear ! as Emma says, every one nice is going 
 or gone;" and Moliie smiled a comical little smile, 
 betokening the future utter bereavement of the inhabitants 
 of Moor Lodge. 
 
 " Well, I had intended going on the first," replied our 
 old friend, "Bung," now grown desperate and utterly 
 forgetful of recent logical application ; " but," he continued, 
 "it depends entirely on you." 
 
 Moliie blushed brightly, and regarded the misdetoe 
 without saying anything. "Bung" felt he must plunge. 
 Now or never ! 
 
 ** Look here, Moliie — no, I mean Miss Watson — I say, 
 you know — that is, you don't know — how can you? Well, 
 the fact is, I don't know what to say or how lo say 
 it** 
 
CURISTMAS AT MOO A' LODGE 
 
 22y 
 
 stletoe 
 )lunge. 
 
 -I say, 
 Well, 
 Xo say 
 
 "Now, Captain Lifion," said MoUic, her heart beat- 
 ing frantically, " don't talk nonsense. I — I must go ! " 
 and she jiunitud up mrvuusly; but Lifton had risen 
 too, and taken hold of the hand she put up to her burning 
 cheek. 
 
 " Mollie, Mollie, wait ! I must speak — I have been so 
 unhappy." 
 
 They were both standing directly beneath the mistletoe, 
 and he had taken the other hand. Mollie could not raise 
 her head, as he held her fast prisoned. 
 
 " Look up, darling," said he ; " won't you give me the 
 ri^ht to kiss you beneath this plant ? Not only now, but 
 lor life." 
 
 His arm was stealing round her waist. How brave the 
 shy C'ai)tain Lifton had become ! Mollie lifted her dear, 
 beautiful eyes to his, and he read the answer there. Never 
 did she look handsomer than at this moment — never 
 truer, never better. Their lips met in a long, loving 
 kiss, and, with a contented little sigh, Mollie's head 
 fell upon his shoulder. Oh, happiness unspeakable ! 
 surely heaven can have no purer bliss than this — of mutual 
 first love? 
 
 About an hour after, Nellie came to drag them from 
 their retreat, to come to supper. Nellie had felt a warning 
 voice somewhere within her crying long ago that that repast 
 was ready, but she had resisted its outcries until she thought 
 the absentees had had time to get hungry too. It was a 
 happy evening for every one, and even the little marine 
 went away with pleasant recollections of it, though Nellie 
 had put him through rather a severe course of training in 
 his duties as an efficient " yonn^^^ man." In Nellie's thoughts 
 alone had there been a rej^ret. • 
 
 H 
 
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 *M^ 
 
i 
 
 230 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 ** If only dear old Jack were here, how much jollier it 
 would all be 1 " 
 
 Yes ! beneath that careless exterior beat the strong, 
 loving heart that could not even momentarily forget the 
 loved one, although capable of that rarest and noblest of 
 virtues — self-sacrifice. 
 
 I 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 fox's determination. 
 
 HRISTMAS was come and past. It had been 
 celebrated at Penallyn by William Triscott in 
 his usual hospitable manner; whether Ada 
 had been happy or not, would be hard to say. 
 Captain Hemmings and George had both been down for a 
 day or two. The latter full of spirits, with all the buoyancy 
 of an unclouded youth, had certainly contrived to make 
 those around him, to a certain extent, catch the contagion 
 of his mirth. 
 
 The former had exerted himself to the utmost to please 
 his fiancee and everybody. As a result, she could not but 
 feel grateful to him ; but still, the thought that she did not 
 love him as she ought to love the man who was to be her 
 companion for life, grew heavier on her mind day by day. 
 Feeling this, she gently opposes his express wish for an 
 early union. 
 
 As William Triscott was also not anxious to lose his 
 niece yet, the commander had perforce to make up his 
 mind to wait. He was a self-reliant man, and as the days 
 wore on he quite ceased to feel any anxiety as to the 
 possible chance of th discovery of his late liaison. Indeed, 
 after the ease >vith which be had persuaded the Triscott 
 
 
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 ^ 
 
 a32 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 family of the falsehood of Nellie Watson's wild statements, 
 it did not seem as if he had much to fear. 
 
 We must now turn our attention to William Fox, whom 
 we left last in " durance vile " at Queenstown. He had 
 not been, as Sir John Treleaven anticipated, dismissed his 
 ship. No, there was no such luck for him, for luck he 
 would have esteemed it. When he received Sir John 
 Treleaven's letter, informing him of Laura's deserted con- 
 dition, he was at Bantry, where the Hesperus touched for 
 last letters before proceeding on the Atlantic station. But 
 to return. His captain had been as good as his word given 
 to Sir John, and the charge against him had been framed 
 as leniently as possible. As a consequence, he had siini>iy 
 been disrated as gunner, and reduced to the rank and 
 pay of gunner's mate. There being, however, now no 
 time for another gunner to be procured, he was ordered 
 to continue to perform his former duties, with a chance 
 held out to him, if he proved satisfactory, of being shortly 
 reinstated in his former rank. 
 
 And Fox made up his mind that he would do his duty 
 thoroughly. It was hopeless to think of again applying for 
 his discharge. At such a time, and so soon after his trial, 
 the application would not for one moment have been 
 entertained. 
 
 The idea of deserting had crossed his mind, but was 
 dismissed on a second's reflection. He had never yet done 
 anything disgraceful, and did not now intend that his name 
 should be branded as that of a deserter from Her Majesty's 
 Service. He must stick to his ship throughout her com- 
 mission, unless some honourable means of leaving it pie- 
 sented itself. 
 
 It was with a heavy heart thjit he wro*e two letters before 
 
FOX 'S DE TKRArfNA TION 
 
 333 
 
 leaving Bantry Bay. The first to Jack, the other to T.aiira, 
 for his mind was filled with gloomy forebodings of what 
 might be the fate of the girl whom he had once --ay ! whom 
 he even now loved. Friendless and alone ! He shuddered 
 to think of it. 
 
 His letters were short as was his time for writing. Jack 
 he simply thanked for iiis kindness in writing to him, and 
 for his promise that he would as far as in his power protect 
 Laura from coming to further harm. Laura he exhorted to 
 return home, but told her, whether she felt herself able to 
 do that or not, that, whatever befell, she was to remember 
 always that there was one who did not blame her, who had 
 long ago forgiven her for having been so easily deceived by 
 the honeyed words of a man who had deliberately won her 
 heart but to trample ner love in the dust. He told her 
 that while he had a penny she should never want, and 
 begged her to write to him frequently, if for no other reason, 
 because it would be an occupation to her. In conclusion, 
 he asked her if possible to send him news of the Triscotts, 
 who had been so kind to him, could she procure information 
 concerning them in any way. 
 
 William had his reasons for wishing to know about the 
 Triscotts. He could now see why Captain Hemmings had 
 been so anxious to get him off to sea again. He remem- 
 bered that officer's confusion when he had asked him 
 "whether he had seen anything of Laura in Paris?" With 
 burning indignation the thought recurred to him of the 
 manner in which Captain Hemmings had wilfully lied to 
 him — a lie whereby the life of a true English gentleman had 
 been nearly taken away, and whereby he (William Fox) had 
 almost become the murderer of that man. 
 
 Fox now suspected that the cause of his application for 
 
 ■ii 
 I 
 
 * \ 
 
 \ \ 
 
HM 
 
 «34 
 
 ADA TRI SCOTT 
 
 dischar;?e hs.ving been unsuccessful, in some way lay with 
 Captain Hemmings. In this we know he was not wrong. 
 The reason why the commander wanted to get rid of him 
 was now plain enough. Living so long with the Triscotts, 
 the attentions of Captain Hemmings to Miss Triscott must 
 have been noticeable by Fox, as indeed they were by all the 
 sen'ants in the household. Even before leaving Tamar 
 Terrace, the servants had begun to draw comparisons between 
 the naval and the military officer. The sudden banishment 
 from the house of the latter had been, among all the 
 dependents of the household, a theme of the freest com- 
 ment, and also of some regret. His free-handed way^', as 
 well as the fact of his being a friend of the family, had 
 made him well liked by those who sat below the salt. 
 
 Fox therefore concluded, and rightly, that Captain 
 Hemmings, having become aware of the interest he took in 
 Laura, and meditating, as he probably was, a breach with 
 that poor girl himself, considered that his (Fox's) presence 
 in the household was dangerous in the highest degree. A 
 mere chance mi^ht have given him that information con- 
 cerning Laura which, if communicated to ^he Triscott family, 
 might have upset all the commander's plans. So he must 
 be got rid of. 
 
 With bitterness William remembered how easily he had 
 been got rid of, by the offer of that post of gunner, which 
 he had held for such a short time. William Fox, of course, 
 sailing across the Atlantic, could not be aware at once of 
 the fact of the commander's engagement to Miss Triscott. 
 He had, however, considered such an eventuality as not 
 improbable. When, therefore, at Rio he received a letter 
 from Laura telling him of it (for she had learned it some- 
 how), he was not surprised. 
 
FOX'S DETERMINATION 
 
 235 
 
 But he was none the less determined, th; t if anything 
 that lay in his power could prevent the marriage of George 
 Triscott's sister with a man who had behaved as Captain 
 Hemmings had to an innocent girl, that marriage should be 
 prevented. Miss Triscott herself had ever been too kind to 
 him for him to see her, if he could help it, united to a 
 villain. Then, again, he had sworn to be revenged upon the 
 man who had wrecked the happmess of the girl who bad 
 been everything in the world to him. What better revenge 
 could there be than to dash the man's cup of happiness 
 from his lips — than to hold up one who had passed for a 
 brave and honest man, a good officer and true gentleman, to 
 the scorn of the world — to point him out as a liar and a man 
 of no honour ; as one who had thrown the blame of his own 
 blackest of misdeeds upon the shoulders of one who had 
 passed for his friend. Yes ! he too should know what it 
 was to feel that shame which he had brought upon a poor 
 girl's name. He too should be degra<]ed among his fellows ! 
 To accomplish this merited punishment would be indeed 
 revenge; and William Fox determined that to bring it about 
 would be henceforth the o*ie object of his life. 
 
 But how was it to be done by him at a distance ? How 
 was this his mission of avenger to be fulfilled? Grown 
 cautious since his misguided attack upon Sir John Treleavrjn, 
 he telt that to w rite a simple letter would not be sufficient. 
 Nor would a simple letter to George Triscott cause sufficiently 
 the notoriety of ill-fame, which he determined should hence- 
 forth cling to the name of Captain Hemmings ; retarding 
 his advancement in life, and making him a by-word and a 
 scorn among his brother officers and equals. 
 
 For this Fox knew that he must be himself on the spot 
 — he must be supported by the most damning proofs of 
 
 >':'"' 
 
 .; 
 
 ;fl 
 
 f 
 
 { 
 
 !r<Mi' 
 
u>m 
 
 236 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 this man's ill-conduct, and must, if possible, choose the 
 most signal manner of bringing the offender to account. 
 But how could he get home ? At present it seemed likely 
 he should remain abroad for several years, cruising about 
 on the Atlantic station ; but still he hoped, trusting in 
 Providence, that aid might come to assist him in preserving 
 Miss Triscott from the hands of the man whom, rightly or 
 wrongly, he considered his greatest enemy on earth. 
 
 He managed, by communicating with Laura and others, 
 even with George Triscott himself, to know what was going 
 on at Penallyn; and had learned that there was no 
 immediate prospect of the wedding. Time was flying 
 by rapidly. The new year was now fast advancing from 
 spring to summer; and still William had no prospect of 
 returning to England. He was reappointed as gunner 
 about tb:: middle of May; but this circumstance, although 
 satisfact«;)ry in itself, as showing the appreciation of his 
 officers of his diligent discharge of duty, brought no relief 
 to his mind. From constantly brooding on the one sub- 
 ject, he was becoming quite ill. From a robust man, he 
 was becoming quite gaunt and thin. To add to his 
 distress of mind, he ceased to receive letters from Laura. 
 This was a fresh car^. For three or four weeks, though 
 often in port at various places in the West Indies, he 
 received never a line. He imagined all sorts of things 
 about her ; we need not here attempt to particularise his 
 various misgivings. At last, one morning in June, he 
 received at Port Royal, Jamaica, a newspaper addressed 
 very shakily in Laura's hand. She was then alive ! He 
 tore the paper open A marked paragraph met his eye. 
 It ran as follows : 
 
 ''We hear upon good authority that the inumded 
 
FOX'S DETERMINATION 
 
 •37 
 
 marriage of Captain Hemmings, commander of Her 
 Majesty's ship Adelaide^ and Miss Triscott, of Penally n 
 'Hall, will be celebrated at Penallyn about the middle 
 of July." 
 
 William Fox trembled as he read the words. Was he 
 then to be balked of his vengeance after all ? He went at 
 once to the captain, and urgently applied to be allowed to 
 claim his immediate discharge. The captain was kind 
 but firm. 
 
 ** It was impossible. He could not be spared." 
 That evening, while endeavouring to write to George 
 Triscott, he was struck down by an attack of the deadly 
 yellow fever. 
 
 his 
 relief 
 sub- 
 , he 
 
 his 
 ^ura. 
 
 DUgh 
 
 , he 
 ings 
 ; his 
 , he 
 ssed 
 He 
 eye. 
 
 \i 
 
 ded 
 
11 ')'■!■' 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 THE WRECK. 
 
 HEN Fox recovered consciousness, he found 
 himself in a hospital. His ship had sailed, 
 and he himself for a fortnight had remained in 
 a very precarious state. Although the strength 
 of his constitution had enabled him to shake off the fever, 
 his mind, ever brooding over Laura's wrongs and his desire 
 to avenge her, militated much against his regaining strength. 
 In fact, so much was he debilitated that it was resolved to 
 send him home on the first opportunity. This soon came, 
 and, about three weeks after he had first been admitted 
 into hospital, William Fox was embarked upon the steam- 
 ship Queen of the Seas, as a passenger to Plymouth. There 
 might yet be time for the unmasking of Laura's destroyer. 
 Fox's wishes were also at last fulfilled. A board of surgeons 
 had declared him unfit for further service. He was a free 
 man at last ! 
 
 While still lying on his bed of sickness at Port Royal, 
 Fox had made his will. In this document he left all his 
 lately-acquired property to Laura Luscombe. The will 
 itself had been forwarded to Sir John Treleaven with a 
 letter dictated by Fox asking that gentleman to become 
 his executor. Had the surgeons, who had certified to 
 William's unfitness for further service, seen him after he 
 
THE WRECK 
 
 239 
 
 had been two or three days at sea, they might have thought 
 they had made a mistake. Never man recovered so quickly 
 both spirits and health as did the ex-gunner. Although the 
 good ship Queen of the Seas was as fast a boat as any afloat, 
 yet she seemed but to creep along to him in his impatience. 
 In spite of this, the knowledge that, in all probabilii), hc 
 was likely to arrive in time gave Fox renewed courage, 
 which, of itself, gave him health and strength. 
 
 The Queen of the Seas touched at Queenstown after an 
 uneventful voyage. Here William telegraphed to Laura 
 that she might expect to see him at Saltash in about 
 thirty-six hours' time, possibly sooner. It depended upon 
 the time the steamer was decayed at Queenstown. In his 
 telegram, which was a lengthy one, William inquired for 
 her health, for he had been very anxiou", both before and 
 when he had received that newspaper from her, addressed 
 in such a shaky hand, and accompanied by no letter. 
 Poor William ! he had feared many things. He also 
 inquired when Miss Triscott's marriage was to take place. 
 In an hour or two, William, who had employed the interval 
 in writing to Sir John Treleaven a letter, which he intended 
 posting in England, received an answer by electric wire. 
 Laura said : 
 
 " She was happy that he was so near, that she had been 
 very ill, that Miss Triscott's marriage was fixed to take 
 place that day week." 
 
 William's impatience to reach England after the receipt 
 of this telegram knew no bounds. He feared, but now 
 quite expected, t? find Laura a mother upon his arrival. 
 This thought only made him grind his teeth with still greater 
 rage and hatred for Hemmings. In his anxiety to know 
 the worst, he was on the point of lauding, proceeding by 
 
 >m¥ 
 
 \ y 
 
240 
 
 ADA TR J SCOTT 
 
 ii i 
 
 f; 
 
 rail to Dublin, and crossing by the mail-steamer to Holy- 
 head. But the cajDtain of the Queen of the Seas persuaded 
 him that this would be a useless expense for a very small 
 saving of time. So he remained where he was, and the 
 ship very shortly left Queenstown. When they left the 
 harbour the wind was high, blowing three-quarters of a gale 
 and still rising. Oh, far better had it been for Fox had he 
 landed at Queenstown ! 
 
 When once more he viewed the dear old Land's End 
 and the " first and last house," seen so often before, a 
 hurricane was raging, and a fearful sea beating full on the 
 Cornish coast. 
 
 A little beyond Penzance, near the village of Marazion, 
 the Queen of the Sea': was dashed to pieces on the rocks. 
 In a farmhouse on the coast, named Manwinnion, Jack was 
 staying, it being part of his own property. He helped to 
 bring in a battered and almost unrecognisable corpse. By 
 a letter taken from the dead man's pocket and addressed to 
 himself, he knew it to be the mortal remains of poor William 
 Fox. Wrecked on his own coast, and within a few miles of 
 his own birthplace, he had been called in the midst of life 
 to his account with Him who hath said : " Vengeance is 
 mine ! " For this is what had happened : 
 
 When William had seen that there was no help for the 
 vessel — as, her rudder being gone, she was drifting gradually 
 towards the coast — he had gone below and hastily added a 
 few lines to his letter to Jack, saying he was near death, 
 and again commending Laura to his care. He had hardly 
 wrapped the letter in oilskin, placed it in his bosom, and 
 gone once more on deck, when the ship struck he.tviiy on 
 the rocks. Commending his soul to God, William sprang 
 
THE WRECK 
 
 341 
 
 far over the side, clearing the edge of the rock, and cor^- 
 menced fiercely battling with the waves which were washing 
 over the doomed vessel. At one time it seemed as if he 
 would be saved. ' i.s he rose on the crest of a wave, he saw 
 a little strip of sandy beach, and on it a small group of men. 
 He recognised the tnliest man there, who, bareheaded and 
 with a rope round h.s waist, was advancing through the surf 
 at the peril of his own life to help the poor fellow struggling 
 with the roaring breakers. 
 
 Yes ! William Fox in that instant recognised him, whom 
 once he had considered as his bitterest enemy, whose life 
 he had attempted. And, in the agonies of death, he was 
 yet able to implore from his soul a blessing on Jack's head. 
 Another second — he had been dashed with fury against a 
 rock, and all was over. The next wave threw him, a 
 bleeding and mangled corpse, into Jack's arms. 
 
 It was one of the most awful wrecks that had been 
 known of for years on the Cornish coast. Not a soul 
 escaped alive. Not one of the many bodies, save Fox's 
 alone, cast ashore had been recognisable. The papers were 
 full of the disaster and of the bravery shown by Sir John 
 Treleaven in venturing into that deadly surf to save the 
 lives of others. The strange fact of the man whose life he 
 had so nearly saved having proved to be his own would-be 
 murderer, as shown by the remarkable circumstance of his 
 bearing on his person a letter addressed to the very man 
 who drew his corpse ashore, was such a coincidence that it 
 naturally could not pass without much comment in the 
 newspapers. 
 
 Jack was once more a hero. The Daily Telegraph had 
 a sensational article upon it, the Standard another, the 
 Globe a third. As for the Western Morning News, the ship- 
 
242 
 
 ADA TRISCO T 
 
 wreck with all its incidents, recovery of corpses, the inquest, 
 the examination of Sir John Treleaven, etc. etc., provided 
 that newspaper with sensational topics for weeks. At a 
 dull season, when thev were most wanted, it proved, to be 
 a perfect godsend. 
 
 Ada Triscott did not fail to hear her late lover's actions 
 commented on favourably ; for the Triscotts were back 
 now in Tamar Terrace, and the awful wreck with its details 
 was the talk of the day. They had al) liked and respected 
 poor Fox. Ilis attack upon Jack had been set down ere 
 this to its right caase— jedousy ; for it had leaked out that 
 he was an old lover of Laura's. Jealousy, Ada thought, 
 was excuse enough for any bad action. When Hemmings 
 heard of Fox's death, he looked quite pleased. 
 
 " Dead, is he ? good job too ! I never liked that man — 
 too much of a sea-lawyer to please me ; " and he added to 
 himself : " I think it's just as well the fellow's out of the 
 way — who knows what mischief he might have done, 
 coming here now ; especially if that girl had got hold of 
 him ? It's a providence ! " 
 
 Who knew indeed ? It was a providence. It was but 
 another remarkable instance of the everyday occurrence of 
 one man's qkittlf*** being knocked down, whilst another 
 successfully balances his egg upon its end. In good sooth, 
 it was a providence that, for its own good reasons, took 
 away from this world an honest, if perhaps a vindictive 
 man, just as he was about to confound and put to utter 
 shame a knave who was now left to pursue, as he liked, the 
 bent of his own inclinations : for, v. ith the deati? of William 
 I*"ox, all that was likely to mar Hemmings' future happiness 
 was removed. 
 
 Auer the expiration of another week, he would be free 
 
THE WRECK 
 
 243 
 
 >ut 
 
 of 
 
 ler 
 
 |th, 
 
 [ok 
 
 live 
 
 Iter 
 
 [he 
 
 irn 
 
 iSS 
 
 tee 
 
 to taste it fully in the arms of Ada, unmolested by qualms 
 of conscience, for he had none — or by fear of discovery. 
 Once he was married to her, he did not much care who 
 found out the truth about him. Since Jack Treleaven had 
 never troubled either him or his future uncle-in-law's family 
 from the day of the meeting in the summer-house, Captain 
 Hemmings felt that now, after so many months, he need 
 have nothing to fear from him. Nor had Laura molested 
 him in any way, or sought a rapprochement^ or come to him 
 with tears and sobs and perhaps threats ; all of which would 
 have been excessively annoying to a man about to be 
 married to a lovely and most desirable girl. 
 
 Neither had Miss Watson ever attempted to interfere in 
 any manner again, although she and Ada had unavoidably 
 met several times. The whole scandal attached to Jack 
 seemed also to have died out of remembrance, since his 
 accession to the baronetcy. Laura Luscombe might just as 
 well never have been born for any trouble she seemed now 
 likely to occasion. Her very existence appeared to be for- 
 gotten. There had been a time when Richard Hemmings 
 had had the most serious misgivings as to what course of 
 action she might pursue. It was not a pleasant thing to 
 hear, as he had heard, that the girl, whom he had ruined 
 and left, was in the company of the man whom he had 
 injured. What plan might they not concoct between them 
 for his overthrow ? His pride, too, had been hurt by the 
 disdainful way in which she had treated his letter of kind (?) 
 dismissal — never even answering it ; never attempting, in a 
 last show of the love that he too surely knew had been his, 
 to induce him to recall that odious epistle, that horrible 
 offer of money, which she had scorned either to accept or 
 to take the trouble to refuse. 
 
 . li 
 
 •A- 
 
 
244 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 Like all men who have acted with meanness, he felt 
 keenly the fact that she to whom he had so acted had 
 plainly shown him that she despised him. And yet he had 
 felt, or rather feared sometimes, that it might all be part of 
 a game she was playing. This silence on her part might be 
 but the prelude to some deep-laid scheme of revenge. 
 Knowing Fox's vindictive spirit and intentions of punishing 
 Laura's destroyer, he had been most anxious to prevent a 
 coalition between these two. He had already seen how 
 capable Fox was of carrying out his vengeance by the 
 attack upon Treleaven, and she might egg him on again. 
 
 " Of course the man had found out his mistake, and 
 would probably next try to wreak his vengeance upon him. 
 Laura alone he did not fear, he could easily confute any- 
 thing she might say. But might she not be ' lying by ' for 
 some great coup at the instigation of Fox, whose head was 
 long and sensible ? The fellow had been abroad — what 
 brought him back so soon ? Confound him . Thank God, 
 he's dead ! " was the impious termination of Captain Hem- 
 mings* reverie upon the subject. 
 
 \ 
 
CHAPTER XXX 
 
 moilie's wedding. 
 
 ■I 
 
 E must now go back a little, and take up events 
 ,^ which had occurred previous to the wreck of 
 the Qiieen of the Seas. Not the least important 
 of these had been Mollie's marriage to our old 
 friend " Bung," alias the " sign-painter," alias Captain 
 Lifton. Indeed, it is much to be feared that MoUie, in 
 entering upon the marriage state, has also taken upon 
 herself the various cognomens of her husband, as popular 
 as ever in his regiment with youngsters and oldsters alike. 
 Alas ! that such should be the case, but it is nevertheless 
 true that Mollie is now as well known by the title of Mrs. 
 " Bung " as by her more legitimate one. 
 
 When she first became aware of the fact through the 
 officiousness of a friend, who prpbably thought that Mollie 
 might be annoyed by the information, Mollie had put a 
 stopper upon her opponent by saying, calmly : 
 
 "Oh, indeed- do they? Well, a name by which my 
 husband has been known and liked for so many years is not 
 one that / should be ashamed of. I am glad to hear it." 
 
 Mollie's wedding had been a jolly one, as might have 
 been expected. There were no bridesmaids ; but there was 
 a breakfast — Nellie had seen to that. It was given at the 
 " Royal Hotel " in Plymouth, where also in the parish church 
 Iht; ceremony had been performed. 
 
246 
 
 ADA TIUSCOTT 
 
 Evervhodv came to see this extremely popular couple 
 "told off," and as nearly everybody as possible was invited 
 to the breakfast. Mollie looked lovely in her bridal attire. 
 "Bung" was, as became him, a little nervous, although he 
 had been screwed-up previously, almost to the point, by 
 Jack's sage advice as to how he was to conduct himself 
 during the ordeal. He had also been fortified with one 
 farewell bachelor glass of beer ; having eschewed all " goes " 
 of whisky since Christmas Day. 
 
 The arrangements for the breakfast — which had, under 
 Nellie's and Jack's supervision, been as nearly perfect as 
 possible — were, " Bung " was known to say in after life, 
 incomplete only in one respect, viz., " that, although cham- 
 pagne was in plenty, there was no beer to be had." 
 
 At the breakfast Nellie had Jack to sit next to her, and 
 look after her, as in the old days of ball-suppers ; conse- 
 quently there were not those wanting who were ready to 
 augur from this fact, that ** there would be another wedding 
 soon." These were of that too common class of persons 
 who cannot see two people of the opposite sex enjoying each 
 other's society without at once imagining them engaged, 
 and who are indeed too often guilty of a downright falsehood 
 while asserting: ''I assure you, my dear, it's a positive 
 factl" 
 
 Needless to say that Nellie cared as little now as ever 
 for popular opinion. " Such gossip," she was wont to say, 
 "amused other people, and did not hurt her." She was 
 pleased on this occasion to have Jack with her, and to let 
 people see that they were still as ever firm friends. 
 
 But was she happy? She joked and laughed, and was 
 even a little more slangy than of old — for, though she had 
 lately dropped most of her queer expressions, some kind of 
 
MOLUE'S WEDDING 
 
 247 
 
 Hpirit, perhaps that of bravado, caused her to suffer from a 
 'elapse this morning, and she said more queer things than 
 usual, although she knew well that Jack did not Uke it. 
 Her appetite seemed for once to have deserted her. When 
 Jack, surprised, pressed her to eat something, she repHed 
 snappishly that she had made a good •* square meal," and 
 told him not to bother her. 
 
 This was manifestly untrue, hut Jack took the hint, and 
 let her alone. She was inwardly more grateful to him for 
 this than she would formerly have been for all his attentions 
 to the wants of her " inner man." Yes, Nellie was unhappy 
 at the idea of losing Mollie ; but, with the exception of Jack 
 Treleaven, no one, not even Mollie herself, could have 
 guessed it from her demeanour, either now or at any time 
 subsequent to the wedding. 
 
 But Nellie had another cause for unhappiness j MoUie's 
 immediate departure impressed vividly upon her mind the 
 fact that the man sitting by her side — friend, lover, what- 
 ever he might be to her— he, too, would probably soon be 
 gone, for already there had been some premonitory rumours 
 of the possible departure of the — th for the summer 
 manoeuvres at Aldershot. How she loved him ! What 
 desolation her life would be without either Mollie or Jack ! 
 She felt confident that Jack still loved Ada, who, spite of 
 Hemmings' monition, was present upon this occasion. 
 
 Her uncle having been invited, William Triscott did 
 not think fit to refuse to attend the marriage of the daughter 
 of his old friend, Mr. Watson. 
 
 Captain Hemmings had not been invited to the wedding- 
 breakf." I, and although he was of course included in the 
 invitation sent to the captain and officers of H.M.S. Adelaide 
 for the afternoon dunce that was to follow the breakfast, the 
 
 i i 
 
 w 
 
248 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 1 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 1 
 
 commander had sufficient good taste not to appear at the 
 " Royal Hotel " that afternoon. 
 
 NeDie, who observed everything, had once or twice 
 noticed Jack's eyes wandering in the direction of ,'here 
 Ada was sitting, not far off", on the opposite side of the 
 table. Nellie watched Ada closely where she sat, looking, 
 with her clear and brilliant colouring, as beautiful and good 
 as MoUie, although in a different style, for Mollie was fair, 
 and Ada Triscott was a brunette, with deep, soft, dark eyes, 
 and clearly defined black eyebrows. 
 
 Nellie had no ill-feeling towards Ada. On the contrary, 
 she pitied her for being the victim of Hemmings. With a 
 man clever and subtle enough to turn his own misdeeds to 
 such advantage, what might not the poor girl be brought to 
 suffer in her after-life? But "honour "here honour is 
 due," ?.r.d Nellie could not help feeling a kind of dis- 
 gusted admiration for the consummate tact and boldnePa 
 with which Hemmings had turned everything to his own 
 advantage. 
 
 As she watched, she saw Ada take a little furtive glance 
 zy Jack from underneath her long, dark lashes. There was 
 no mistaking the meaning of that glance from the soft 
 brcwn eyes. 
 
 " Why," said Ncilie ti' herself, " it's just as I thought, 
 Ada is as much in love with Jack as ever. The girl's a 
 fool. Why does she not get rid of that brute of a man 
 before it's too late? I'm sure I should never w sh to 
 stand in the way of her — no ! of dear old Jack's happiness. 
 A la does not deserve to be happy, for she would not 
 take my pretty plain hints last December. Still she is a 
 lovjble girl, far too good for that beast." 
 
 Presently Nellie, who, although apparently .arrying on 
 

 r» 
 
 MOLLIE'S WEDDIXG 
 
 «49 
 
 ig on 
 
 a lively conversation with her next neighbour, was still 
 watching, surprised another glance. This time she saw 
 Ada redden painfully, until her face resembled a ripe peach 
 in its rosy bloom, and then look hard at her plate. The 
 cause was evident, for, on looking at Sir John Treleaven, 
 that gentleman had also a heightened colour, and ap- 
 parently also a heightened interest in the crockery before 
 him. Their eyes had evidently met ! 
 
 Nellie abruptly left her neighbour to continue the con- 
 versation alone, while she seemed, from the set expression 
 of her face, to be coming to some determination. Ic was 
 not long in being brought to a conclusion. 
 
 " I will," she thought. " There's a good six weeks ; 
 I'll do all in my power for Jack yet, honestly and truly. 
 And I'll begin at once. Even supposing all my efforts are 
 in vain, why, then I'll honestly and truly try to do some- 
 thing else " — and a smile came over her face — " that is, 
 try to marry Jack myself." 
 
 Turning to Jack, she asked him a question that rather 
 startled him. 
 
 " Jack, do you know anything about Laura Luscombe ? 
 1 know you do, though. What's her address ? " 
 
 " Why do you want to know, Nellie ? I thought you 
 didn't like her." 
 
 "Oh, that was formerly, when I thought you were 
 making a fool of her, poor girl — I know now I was mis- 
 taken ; and I have my own reasons." 
 
 "Well, Nellie, I'll give you her address. I've seen 
 her once or twice lately. I fear you'll find her sadly in 
 want of a woman's help." 
 
 And Jack sighed in pity for the poor deserted girl. 
 Nellie loved him more than ever ior thai bigh. 
 
 1 
 
JSO 
 
 AVA TKl SCOTT 
 
 " Very well, Jack," she said ; " send it to me to-morrow/* 
 
 The dancing had began, but Nellie did not go in at 
 all for her old role of being blasee or passee. She did not 
 look the latter, at any rate, and, if she felt the former, 
 she did not show it. 
 
 " Bung " had the extreme felicity of once more dancing 
 on the same boards with the girl he loved, and once more 
 to the romantic ^' Sir^nes " waltz. Yes, the girl he loved, 
 and the girl who was now his wife. 
 
 " Dear old fellow ! How happy he looks ! " thought 
 Jack. " I'll go and spoil his pleasure by taking away his 
 wife for a short time." 
 
 Going up to him, Jack said : 
 
 " Now, Mollie, you're not going to dance any more with 
 my chum. In after life, I give you full and free permission 
 to dance as much as you like with him ; but as I'm in 
 the secret, and you can't get away quietly without me, 
 you'll just have to drop that humbugging fellow, and we'll 
 have one of our old dances together, and make him jealous, 
 won't we, Mollie ? Now, ' Bung,' obey orders, you ruffian ! 
 Go and dance with somebody else until I come and tell 
 you I've squared matters, and it's time to go." 
 
 And so " Bung '' obeyed orders, like a dutiful captain 
 as he was, and left his wife and Jack to have one of the 
 best dances they ever had together. For they loved each 
 other, these two, after a fashion ; both loved " Bung " ; 
 both loved Nellie ; and, therefore, on the system of 
 Euclid's maxims or postulates — which is it? — they loved 
 one another. 
 
 The dance was finished. Mollie had taken her very 
 last fiing as a maiden. As a matron in future days she 
 and Jack might percliance once more step it together. 
 
MOLLIE'S WEDDING 
 
 251 
 
 "Now, Mollie, go and get your things on; 1*11 tell the 
 old man and arrange matters — send the governor to you, 
 and everything. I'll come directly and give you a kiss 
 myself too, just to make the dear old fellow more thoroughly 
 jealous, as indeed I am myself of you, for you've spoilt 
 all my quiet evenings, and smokes, and yarns, and all that 
 kind of thing, for the rest of my existence. It will be 
 very slow without * Bung.* " 
 
 And off went Jack. 
 
 These good people had arranged a plan amongst them- 
 selves to enable the married couple to get away quietly to 
 the station ; not such an easy thing in a place like Plymouth. 
 But Jack had contrived to spare old " Bung " his nervous 
 blushes, and any odd boots and shoes on leaving the " Royal 
 Hotel " for the station, which, as every one knows, is only 
 a few hundred yards away. 
 
 There are two doors to the "Royal Hotel," one leading 
 into Lockyer Street, and the other into the continuation 
 of George Street, leading straight to the Great Western 
 station. Jack ordered round the carriage with its pair oi 
 grays to that door which leads into Lockyer Street. Of 
 course, here it was that the crowd — not altogether an 
 ordinary crowd, but one mainly composed of well-dressed 
 persons — had collected. 
 
 After the carriage had been waiting for some fifteen 
 minutes, a waiter with a large rosette came out and 
 informed the coachman, in an audible voice, that the 
 carriage would not be required for an I lOur, as the bride and 
 bridegroom »vere going by a l?iter train. 
 
 In the meantim.e. while those armed with old leather 
 missiles remained waiting and savagely nursing those 
 remnants of the cobbler's art, fully determined to shy with 
 
252 
 
 ADA TRI SCOTT 
 
 I 
 I 
 
 greater force when the time came, the bride and bridegroom 
 had quietly disappeared ; having walked out of the George 
 Street door, they had left by the train without, as the papers 
 would say, "the slightest demonstration." Of course, 
 everybody was savage at having been sold. The crowd 
 was not kept waiting beyond the stipulated hour, when it 
 was gently conveyed to them by the decorated waiter that 
 the bride and bridegroom had " given 'em all the slip." 
 
 This business successfully accomplished, Jack came to 
 claim his dance with Nellie. He found her conversing with 
 Ada Triscott; but, as the latter's partner arrived at the 
 sarie moment, there was no disagreeable rencontre. 
 
 Nellie had now dropped her slang — she was serious, 
 at any rate, with Jack. 
 
 "Jack," she said, in a pause of the waltz, "you love 
 Ada still, don't you?" Poor Jack coloured up to the roots 
 of his hair. He looked pained and unhappy. "Forgive 
 me. Jack," said Nellie ; " I see you do. Well, I think you 
 are right. What have you done since your fruitless journey 
 to Tristillian to right yourself in her eyes — anything ? " 
 
 ** Nothing,'* answered he, " nothing. What could I do ? 
 She despised me — she was engaged to another man. She 
 hated me. How could I lower myself by making any 
 further appeal to her of any sort ? " 
 
 "Jack," said Nellie, softly, "you're a very good feliow, 
 but you're a little too proud. Do you love her? Why 
 don't you answer me that question ? " 
 
 "Well, then, I do," he said, rather sullenly. 
 
 " Let's stop a moment," said Nellie, " I'm rather 
 tired." 
 
 Jack complied. He had hardly stopped when he was 
 ^ware of the fact that he was standing next Ada Triscott, 
 
MOLLIE'S WEDDING 
 
 253 
 
 Toom 
 
 eorge 
 >apers 
 ourse, 
 crowd 
 tien it 
 :t that 
 
 me to 
 
 ig with 
 
 at the 
 
 serious, 
 
 ou love 
 
 le roots 
 
 [Forgive 
 
 nk you 
 
 ourney 
 
 I do? 
 
 She 
 ig any 
 
 fellow, 
 Why 
 
 rather 
 
 Ihe was 
 
 iriscott, 
 
 She was, for some reason or other, alone. What a flood of 
 recollections rushed through his mind in one moment! 
 Little cared he now whether she was engaged, or married, 
 for that matter — he only longed to speak to her. He had 
 not long to wait. Nellie's plan, if it was one, was soon 
 displayed openly. 
 
 "Ada," said she. Ada turned, the bloom of youth 
 upon her perfect face resembling more than ever the 
 luscious downy colouring of the peach. " Ada, I think you 
 know Sir John Treleaven, don't you? If not, I'll leave 
 you to make his acquaintance ; " and, slipping her arm out 
 of his, she was gone. 
 
 Jack was in a state of excitement that can be imagined 
 only by putting oneself in his place. He had not spoken 
 to her for eight months, and now he was left alone with 
 her. 
 
 He held out his hand. 
 
 "Ada," he said. She took it, and the touch sent the 
 hot blood to both their faces. "Come, dance with me, 
 Ada!" 
 
 She could not answer — she could hardly breathe; but 
 the love that shone in her eyes was enough for Jack. In 
 another moment they were floating through the room, his 
 arm around her, her breath fanning his cheek. He clasped 
 her tighter as the dance went on, but still Ada said never a 
 word. She felt inclined to break into a passion of wild 
 tears and reproaches. Oh, the agony — the happiness of 
 that moment ! Oh ! how it all seemed to come back — that 
 dance on board the Adelaide, the dark corner on the poop ! 
 Subsequently the long daily meetings, day after day, week 
 after week. Had it all been a dream ? Was this too but a 
 dream, a dream of the lost passion? 
 
 ■J 
 
' I 
 
 254 
 
 ADA TR /SCOTT 
 
 Ada was but mortal. She forgot Captain Hemmings, 
 she forgot her duty to him, she forgot her own self-respect 
 — everything ; except that she was once more enclasped by 
 him she loved. She had forgotten his misdoings for the 
 moment, as if they had never existed. She knew nothing, 
 felt nothing, but that her heart was beating against the 
 heart of him she loved. Her first love — her only love ! 
 One minute ago, and she had never expected to hear the 
 dear familiar voice addressing her again. And now — and 
 now. Jack's arm encircled her; Jack was calling her by 
 every loving and endearing name — imploring her to whisper 
 back but one word if she loved him still. Ah ! Ada was 
 but mortal ; had she been superhuinan, she might have left 
 him, she might have said she did not love him — hated, 
 abominated him ! 
 
 Naughty, weak, wicked Ada ! She said none of these 
 things. Her eyes grew to his face in despairing, appealing 
 love. 
 
 " Oh, Jack, you know — you know." 
 For one blissful moment life had nothing for them but 
 each other. It had passed ! A dreary sea of recollection 
 had flowed back over both. The melancholy strains of 
 ** Geliebt und verloren " were still ringing down the room. 
 But Ada and Jack had stopped dancing, and were standing 
 together, pale and agitated, in a window. 
 
 She was the first to speak, her voice trembling and her 
 breath coming in short sobs. 
 
 "Yes, Jack, I love you still. Love you as I always 
 have loved you. My love for you is killing me. Oh ! I 
 ought to be ashamed to confess it. Jack, Jack, how could 
 you have treated me so ? I have longed for you — prayed 
 for you — tried to drive you from my head and from my 
 
MOIJJE'S WEDDING 
 
 255 
 
 imings, 
 respect 
 ped by 
 for the 
 lothmg, 
 nst the 
 y love ! 
 lear the 
 w — and 
 her by 
 whisper 
 ^da was 
 lave left 
 — hated, 
 
 of these 
 ppealing 
 
 lem but 
 )llection 
 trains of 
 le room, 
 standing 
 
 md her 
 
 always 
 Oh! I 
 
 could 
 -prayed 
 |om my 
 
 heart. But it was no use ; I could not forget you. God 
 forgive me — God forgive us both. I am engaged to be 
 
 married '' 
 
 . She stopped ; this thought seemed to freeze the words 
 upon her lips. 
 
 "Why should you marry him, Ada?" said Jack, fiercely. 
 
 She was slowly regaining her composure. 
 
 "I will tell you why I must marry him, Jack — my 
 honour is at stake; I have promised him ; he loves me." 
 
 " Curse him ! " said Jack ; ** he is a villain. I beg your 
 pardon, Ada. I mean, do you prefer him to me?" 
 
 " Hush, Jack," she said, solemnly. " I love you, and 
 I have forgiven you. Let that be enough." 
 
 There was a little pause, and then she spoke again : 
 
 "When you outraged every feeling I possessed, when 
 life lay black and weary before me, I accepted Captain 
 Hemmings. And I know. Jack, for I have had the proof 
 of my own eyes, that there is a poor girl, who, if she is not 
 your wife, ought to be so. Do not tempt me again. Do 
 not wreck her life as well as mine." 
 
 "Ada, it is false," said Jack; "you are mistaken; I 
 never did what you think. I swear it." 
 
 A blight light of hope leaped into her eyes. 
 
 "Prove it. Jack, my darling, my only love. Oh, can 
 you not prove it, only so that I can satisfy my uncle and 
 George? If you can only show me the slightest proof 
 of your innocence, I will never marry Richard Hemmings, 
 I swear; but whether or no, I now loathe the idea of ever 
 being any man's wife but yours, my own Jack." 
 
 " I cannot prove it," said Jack, in a hoarse, unnatural 
 voice. "I will not implicaie another to save myself 1 
 cannot be so low as tii.it." 
 
 I ■'^?|j 
 
 > . J 
 
256 
 
 ADA TR I SCOTT 
 
 ••Ada, Ada, where are you? it is time to go," cried the 
 voice of \v^illiam Triscott, close behind them. "Come 
 along, child ! Ah ! how do, Treleaven ? " with a cool 
 nod; and, giving her his arm, they went quicl<ly away 
 together. 
 
! 
 
 "ied the 
 
 «' Come 
 
 a cool 
 
 ly avv'ay 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 NELLIE AN ANGEL OF MERCY. 
 
 iT was very unfortunate that Mr. Triscott --''ould 
 have arrived to bear off his niece just \v'.,^n ■2 
 did; but it must be owned that he v.,~ fuiy 
 justified in not leaving Ada long,: w the 
 company of Sir John Treleaven. He had form ^rly liked 
 Jack greatly, and because he had been spoken o. as a bit 
 of a scamp would have been no reason to William Triscott 
 for personally discontinuing his intimacy with the young 
 fellow. But that he should be in the society of his niece 
 was quite a different thing ; this he could not consider 
 advisable. He was astonished now at the rapprochement 
 that must have taken place between the coi'ple, since they 
 were dancing together, for Jack's name had been "tabooed" 
 on Ada's lips for months past. 
 
 " How was it, my child," he asked, as they drove home, 
 *' that you and Jack Treleaven were dancing together just 
 now?" 
 
 **' Nellie Watson left us together," she replied, truthfully. 
 
 " That Nellie Watson is a cracked kind of girl. I don't 
 think I should do it any more, if I was you ; Hemmings 
 might not like it, you know, dear." 
 
 Ada, gazing out of the carriage window, hardly seemed 
 to hear, and Mr, Triscott said no more. But she had 
 
 \ 
 
 ■:vM 
 
258 
 
 ADA TR! SCOTT 
 
 heard \ and he had said enoiif^h to show Ada tbnt unless in 
 some miraculous way it could be proved, to everybody's 
 satisfaction, that Jack had not been ii;ui]ty, and that every 
 one had been deceived, Jack could never more be friend or 
 lover of hers. 
 
 In her cooler moments now she thought with shame 
 and reproach of the words she had spoken. How could 
 she have told Jack that she still loved him? In six weeks 
 she was to be married — she had acted traitorously to Cap- 
 tain Hemmings. There was one consolation : she had 
 never pretended to be in love with this last-named gentle- 
 man. Esteem, respect, friendship were all she had ever 
 pretended to feel towards him. In her heart she believed 
 Jack's protestations of innocence, but why would he not, or 
 could he not, clear himself? Surely if he really loved her 
 he would not let anything stand in his way, so that he 
 might be once more spotless in her sight. Oh ! it was 
 all dreadful and miserable. Only one thing was certain . 
 that in six weeks' time she would be united to a man she 
 did not love. And why? Because he was her brother's 
 friend. What a reason ! Better far to have remained 
 unmarried. 
 
 The meeting with Jack had unsettled her altogether. 
 Before this episode, Ada had become partly reconciled 
 to the idea of ner future lot \ she might not be happy, but 
 in time she would become at least indifferent. Now the 
 idea of her approaching marriage vvas almost insupportable. 
 Why had she met Jack again ? Why^ if he was pure and 
 free from blame, could he not prove it ? She wearied her 
 brain with thinking. 
 
 But at present we must leave our heroine to her un- 
 enviable thoughts. And let us hope that Captain 
 
NELLIE AN ANGEL OF MERCY 
 
 259 
 
 2SS in 
 )ody's 
 every 
 nd or 
 
 shame 
 could 
 weeks 
 
 ) Cap- 
 
 le had 
 
 gentle- 
 
 .d ever 
 
 )elieved 
 not, or 
 
 ived her 
 
 that he 
 it was 
 
 Icertain . 
 
 nan she 
 
 irother's 
 
 mained 
 
 jogether. 
 :onciled 
 )py, but 
 [ow the 
 )Oitable. 
 ^ure and 
 •ied her 
 
 her un- 
 Captain 
 
 ITemmings did not see through the extra warmth of manner 
 she put on about this period when he came ; partly to hide 
 her real feelings, partly in expiation of the offence of 
 which she had been guilty, in telling the truth of her pure 
 heart to the man she still loved so fondly and so madly. 
 
 Poor Jack got no rest the night of MolHe's wedding. 
 The meeting with Ada had had the effect of unsettling him 
 as well as her. Perhaps, had not Mr. Triscott interfered to 
 bear her away, he might have told her, as Nellie Watson 
 had long advised him to do, the whole truth : that it was 
 not himself but Captain Hemmings who had acted shame- 
 fully. He might have got over the exaggerated feelings of 
 honour, which had hitherto prevented him making the dis- 
 closure, since he had heard from Ada's own lips that 
 Captain Hemmings was her affianced husband. If she had 
 doubted his word, he might have referred her to Laura 
 L'lscombe herself But none of these things had he done. 
 H2 left her, he felt, as great a criminal in her eyes as ever. 
 This girl, whose pure young love would have been a safe- 
 guard to keep him unspotted from the world, was, alas ! 
 lost to him for ever. 
 
 How much happier was Jack a few months ago when 
 only a needy subaltern, than now while the possessor of a 
 title and thousands a year 1 As he lay restlessly tossing on 
 his bed, he felt that he would willingly give up every penny, 
 if only so doing would ensure one walk upon the Hoe with 
 Ada, on the old familiar footing. 
 
 And Nellie Watson ! Did she sleep that night ? No, 
 
 J fear not much. She had observed the result of her 
 
 generous conduct, in willingly leaving the man she loved 
 
 with her rival. She had seen their heightened colour, had 
 
 watched their flashing eyes as they danced together. Had 
 
 'm' 
 
Bl if 
 
 :i 
 
 360 
 
 ADA TR I SCOTT 
 
 she done what was likely to render Jack happy ? This 
 the only question she asked herself. At any rate, she hmd 
 done her best. To-morrow, or the next day, she would 
 have other business on hand. 
 
 A day or two afterwards, poor Laura was astonished in 
 her solitude at Saltash by the arrival of a visitor. The 
 landlady had announced, in a marked manner, that there 
 "was a lady below, mem, who wishes to see you." Laura 
 was, of course, living under an assumed name ; and the 
 landlady, naturally a good soul, was well enough paid, 
 thanks to Jack's generosity, not to give herself airs, or 
 otherwise take advantage of the poor girl's friendless 
 condition. 
 
 But the fact of her lodger having a visitor, and that 
 visitor a lady, was such a strange c ccurrence that she was 
 justified in showing a certain air q{ importance in making 
 the above announcement, for hitherto, since the defection 
 of her supposed husband, Captain Hemmings, the only 
 visitor to Laura had been Sir John Treleaven. His visits 
 had been very rare at the house, as, for her sake, was highly 
 desirable. 
 
 It was, indeed, a lonely, miserable existence that Laura 
 had dragged out through all these dreadful weary months. 
 Not a soul to speak to save her landlady ; ill, harassed with 
 the thoughts of a worse trouble coming — deserted — there 
 had been no friendly woman's voice to help to cheer her 
 under her misfortunes. And now, who could this lady be ? 
 And what could she want with her? No wonder that 
 Laura turned pale with agitation as she asked her landlady 
 "if she was sure the lady wanted to see her}" 
 
 "Yes, mem, quite sure, the young lady asked for you 
 by name if you didn't live here, and if you was at home ? 
 
vT-i 
 
 I 
 
 NELLIE AN ANGEL OF MERCY 
 
 a6i 
 
 I said yes, you did live here, and you was at home. She's 
 waitin<; downstairs, mem ; hadn't I better show her up ? " 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so," said Laura, sinking down into a 
 chair. " Show her up." 
 
 I'he lady was shown up. As Nellie Watson — for, of 
 course, it was she — entered the room, Laura rose to receive 
 her. She was about to address her by name, but her 
 astonishment was too great to do so instantly. 
 
 Meantime Nellie, noticing the landlady standing holding 
 the door half open, and with eyes and ears wholly open, 
 turned sharply, and said: 
 
 " I think you had better shut that door ; Mrs. Taylor 
 may feel the draught," and she closed it herself. 
 
 Reopening it a moment later, Nellie found, as she had 
 expected, the landlady still outside, waiting to listen to what 
 might transpire. 
 
 "Oh, Mrs. Jones," said Nellie, "I thought I might as 
 well tell you at once that you need not wait here to show 
 me down, as I may be here for some little time." 
 
 Exit Mrs. Jones, discomfited. 
 
 *' Miss Watson," said Laura, who had had time to re- 
 cover herself somewhat, and speaking with dignity, although 
 her lips were trembling, and she was obliged to lean on a 
 chair for support — *' Miss Watson, to what do I owe the 
 honour of i. is visit? Why have you come thus to spy out 
 a wretched girl in her shame, when she is only anxious to 
 hide herself from the world ? I know that you have always 
 disliked me ; but what have I ever done to you that yon 
 should think it necessary to come and see with your own 
 eyes the proofs of my guilt and shame ? Are you satisfied 
 now that I am as bad and despicable as you always took 
 care to let mc know you thought me ? If so, go ! I Iwye 
 
 i M 
 
I \ 
 
 mi 
 
 262 
 
 AVA TRI SCOTT 
 
 no friends, nothing you can do or say can harm me with 
 any one, or make me one whit more miserable than 1 am at 
 this moment. Go ! you may be polluted it" you stay in this 
 room with me any longer." 
 
 The quivering oi" those pale lips went straight to Nellie's 
 heart. 
 
 " My poor child, I am so sorry for you. Here, pray 
 take my hand. I have come to ask your pardon for all my 
 old flighting ways towards you. I know you have every 
 right to hate me. I have behaved cruelly and unkindly 
 to you, but now, Laura, my poor child, 1 do 7iot come as a 
 spy. Believe me, I hive only come because I knew how 
 deserted and lonely you are, and how much you must be in 
 want of a woman's help. Will you forgive me and let me 
 help you ? I will try to make you forget I ever slighted 
 you in the past. Come, do let us be friends, dear Laura." 
 
 To an arid plain the welcome rain does not bring more 
 relief, than did these kind words to one who was so much 
 in want of human sympathy. Nellie had touched the right 
 chord in Laura's somewhat defiant nature. Had she, with 
 the patroniiung air of a superior, come to offer her assistance, 
 her advances would have been indignantly repelled. But 
 she came as a suppliant for forgiveness as from an equal, 
 hiding under that ^^ise her proffered aid. What woman 
 who had lived alone and unfriended for months but would 
 have been moved in her distress by words of kindness such 
 as these? Poor Laura's heart was touched. 
 
 *' Forgive you, Miss Watson ! I forgive y u ? Ah, 
 you are a good woman to visit a wretched girl like me ! " 
 she cried, wildly. " Forgive me for what I said just now." 
 
 Nellie put her arm round the poOi girl, and, pressing 
 ^hat throbbing heart against her own, she said : 
 
H 
 
 NELLIE AN ANGEL OF MERCY 
 
 263 
 
 "There, we are friends now, as we ought to have been, 
 were it not for my fault, long ago. Believe me, dear 
 Laura, I will not desert you now ; you must treat me and 
 trust me like a sister. Is it a bargain ? " 
 
 But Laura was too much choked by her emotion to 
 reply. She had been mistaken ; Nellie was a good woman 
 in the truest sense of the word. She was doing a noble 
 action in having sufficient strength ot mind to help an 
 errinL^ sister in distress, careless of what people might say 
 or think of her for associating with one who had fallen from 
 " virtue's fair estate," who had loved *' not wisely, but too 
 well." 
 
 After a pause, Nellie asked : 
 
 " Laura, does your mother know where you are ? She 
 ought to be here now." 
 
 " Oh, no, no ! " cried Laura, " anything but that. I 
 could not bear my poor mother's look if she saw me now." 
 
 "Veryv/ell," said Nellie, "we will let that be for the 
 present, but not always. In the meantime, I must be a 
 mother as well as a sister to you, I see. I can assure you," 
 she added, cheerfully, " I am old enough to fill that post. 
 I shall take care of you, and look after you closely enough, 
 I promise you " ; and, sotto voce, " would that I had done 
 so a little in the past." 
 
 It is true Nellie had had plenty of opportunities in the 
 past of improving the mind of this girl, whom she had 
 known all her life. If, instead of having scorned her for 
 what she called *' her stuck-up ways," she had len*^ her 
 a little friendly assistance and countenance, if she had tried 
 to understand a little that sensitive nature, instead of 
 putting it down as a thing to be stamped out, poor Laura 
 might never have made such a signal failure of her career. 
 
 ■v-j;^.-*- 
 
264 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 iu ^ 
 
 mMr-'IBt 
 
 1 
 
 
 1'/ 1 
 
 Ik i 
 
 ■j' if 
 
 if 
 
 i 
 
 i 1 9; ' 
 
 ' i'' 
 
 It may be remembered that it was partly to spite Nellie, 
 by showing her how little effect her airs of superiority had on 
 the "simple miller's daughter," that the latter had allowed 
 herself to be paid attention to by any of those gentlemen 
 whom she knew to be the friends of Miss Watson. Hence, 
 indirectly, Nellie had not only not, done what she might 
 have done 10 keep this poor girl in the right road, but 
 had been, in fact, one of the means that had led to her 
 fall. 
 
 But we are not all perfect, nor was Nellie Watson more 
 so than the rest of us. She was, however, now trying to 
 make full amends for having let slip past opportunities of 
 doing good, and a true friend she proved herself to Laura 
 Luscombe in her day of trouble. Always pretty nearly her 
 own mistress. Miss Watson was, fortunately for Laura, more 
 so at this period than ever, as, immediately after Mollic's 
 wedding, her father had gone away for a few weeks. While, 
 therefore, Moor Lodge was given over to painters and 
 plasterers, under the supervision of the stalwart Emma (who 
 was having fine times of it with Jack Spriggs), her young 
 mistress came in, nominally to stay with an old aunt in 
 Plymouth. We say nomi7iaUy advisedly, for staying away 
 from the old aunt would have been nearer the truth. The 
 old woman was afraid of her niece, by whom she was 
 ruled with a rod of iron, without daring to open her lips. 
 
 Nellie therefore did as she liked, and passed most of 
 her time looking after Laura, to whom the terrible crisis 
 arrived a very few days after the interview we have just 
 been describing. Laura, poor young thing ! hovered for 
 several days on that dread borderland between life and 
 death. She was mercifully spared the misery of being long 
 burdened with a child whose father cared not whether lihe 
 
NELLIE AN ANGEL OF MERCY 
 
 265 
 
 herself lived or died. Her infant survived its birth but 
 a week ; but even then its loss was a terrible blow to her, 
 in whom had just been awakened the invincible feeling of 
 maternal love, but to be so soon shattered. 
 
 Nellie was an angel of kindness during these sad days. 
 She had entirely won poor Laura's love and confidence, and 
 her heart burned with the more loathing and detestation 
 of Captain Hemmings, as she fully realised the cruelty 
 of the position in which he had left the girl whom he 
 had ruined. 
 
 One morning, when Laura awoke from an uneasy sleep, 
 she found her mother sitting by her bedside in the chair 
 usually occupied by Nellie, who, of course, had brought 
 her, but not without some slight previous warning to the 
 sufferer. Nellie had shown great tact in the matter. She 
 had chosen a time when, as the state of Laura's health was 
 such that the issue was uncertain, no hard words could 
 possibly be addressed to her by her parent. 
 
 We need not dwell upon the touching meeting between 
 mother and daughter, but, as may be supposed under such 
 circumstances, the reconciliation was complete. Laura 
 knew now that if she died i. would not be unforgiven 
 by her who brought her into the world. This thought 
 alone took such a load from her mind that it was mainly 
 the cause of her regaining sufficient >':rength to shake oflf 
 the clammy hand death had laid upon her. 
 
.'I 
 
 Hi 
 If 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIL 
 
 NELLIE HAS A CHANCl. 
 
 t*' 
 
 HORTLY after the events detailed in the last 
 chapter, Nellie Watson had an interview with 
 Jack Treleaven. On this occasion she told 
 him plainly that she thought it would be 
 a shame if so nice a girl as Ada should be sacrificed by 
 being united to a man so utterly unscrupulous as Hemmings. 
 "Upon my word, Jack," she said, "something should 
 be done to prevent it — I know you love Ada still, then why 
 do not you step in? I would never let that man have her, 
 if I was you. He managed to saddle you with his own 
 misdoings in the meanest manner possible, and now he is 
 going to marry, in a week or two, the girl who should have 
 been your wife — in my opinion, at least." 
 
 "Yes, Nellie, that's all perfectly true ; but what would 
 yon have me do? Do you not see that I am handicapped 
 by her being engaged to this fellow? Because he has acted 
 meanly to me is no reason that I i.. turn should act meanly 
 to him. You cannot expect me to go and inform about 
 his peccadilloes, now that Ada, for some inexplicable reason, 
 is (;■; rhe point of marrying him. Besides, even if ^ did 
 turn infonucr-, it >1oes not follow that I should be believed." 
 Nellie remembered hov/ sit'oally she herself had failed to 
 sepifrte H .'mmin^'B a id Ada^ and was silent. 
 
 ! J 
 
NELLIE HAS A CHANCE 
 
 267 
 
 After a pause, she said : 
 
 "Jack, if poor Laura Luscombe herself went to the 
 Triscotts a/id cleared you, if she herself told Ada that 
 the man who was about to marry her had treated her 
 shamefully, while letting them think it was you — there 
 would be an end of it all. I know she would do it if she 
 thought you would be benefited by such an action on 
 her part." 
 
 " Possibly," said Jack ; '* but I would never be party 
 to such an action, nor would I take advantage of it in 
 any way. I trust that I have too much pride. And I 
 should be sorry to hear that Laura had done such a thing. 
 It would look too much as if she were prompted by a 
 revengeful spirit which she has never shown. She has 
 undergone great sufferings, mentally and physically, and 
 you, Nellie, have acted like an angel to her. You would 
 never, I am sure, wish her to have more pain by mixing 
 herself up in any vay with the affairs of this man, whose 
 name she probably never wishes to hear again. You must 
 remember that we are not the arbiters of her fate, any more 
 than we are of Ada Triscott's ; therefore, let us not by our 
 actions in any way try to control either of tl m. What 
 they now are in their separate spheres, they bo are by the 
 action of their own free will. Laura it mav be in our 
 power to befriend in the future, as, fortunate^ it has been 
 in the past. If Ada, of her own free w likes to give 
 up Captain Hemmmgs, well and good, r.ut I will in 
 no way attempt to lead that will, by promptm^^ poor Laura 
 to show up Hemmings to her. Nor, I am sure, would you. 
 I suppose Hemmings really loves and respects Ada ? Not 
 that, except for her sake, I care whether he coes or not. 
 But, if he does, it is natural to suppose he is sorry for his 
 
 mv 
 
26S 
 
 ADA TR I SCOTT 
 
 !-' 
 
 past, and will be a better conducted fellow in the future. 
 As for what he has done concerning myself, I cannot say I 
 forgive him in the least; but I consider it beneath my 
 di;^nity to take any notice of it in any way now. So there 
 you are, Nellie, don't you see?" 
 
 " Well, Jack," she said, " I see you're a pig-headed 
 man, who does not know what's for his own good ; but 
 still, I must confess, there's sense in your arguments ; and 
 there's what I like more, there's gentlemanly feeling dis- 
 played in them. I believe you've been a bit of a scamp 
 yourself in the past, if the truth were known ; but I'm quite 
 certain of one tiling, you always were a gentleman. Upon 
 the whole, I don't think you'll ever be a disgrace to your 
 position." 
 
 " You make me blush," said Jack. 
 
 " That's not the point at all ; the point is that you 
 deliberately resign Ada Triscott to her fate, and con- 
 sequently yourself, too, to yours. Well, I'm sorry, but you 
 may be right. She'll be married in a fortnight or so. You 
 know that, don't you?" 
 
 " Yes," he replied, " there's nothing in the world to pre- 
 vent it, unless she chooses at the last moment to give him 
 up — a most improbable proceeding." 
 
 These two were ignorant, which the reader is not, that 
 at this very time William Fox was approaching his native 
 shores, armed with his revenge, and fuliy determined to 
 prevent the marriage in question. But the reader knows 
 also how death, bv utting him off from the scene a few 
 days later, did in fact, as Jack has just said, leave nothing 
 in the world to prevent the match from taking place. 
 
 '• Well, Jack," said Nellie, *' let's talk about something 
 else now. What time is the 'Queen's birthday parade' to 
 
NELLIE HAS A CHANCE 
 
 369 
 
 take place in the People's Park to-morrow ? Where will be 
 the best place for me to take the aunt to for the * march 
 past ' ? I'm too blasee to care for it myself, you know. 
 And at what time are we to turn up for your luncheon at 
 the barracks ? I feel quite cheerful at the idea of that part 
 of the performance, 1 assure you." 
 
 It was quite true, Nellie did somehow feel cheerful ; 
 but it was not at the prospect of the bountiful lunch to 
 which the officers of the — th had invited all their friends. 
 No, it must be confessed that Jack's recently expressed 
 determination to in no way clear himself with Ada, had, 
 although it should not of course have done so, caused 
 Nellie to feel happy in spite of herself. Although telling 
 herself it was wrong, she could not help saying inwardly, in 
 her own naive way : 
 
 " Oh, well, then, perhaps there's a cLauce for me, after 
 all ! " 
 
 She had done all she could to ensure the happiness of 
 others. "Why then did she not deserve to be happy herself? 
 No woman had ever denied herself more generously in her 
 rival's interest than she had done. If her efforts had been 
 unavailing, if in spite of all her promptings, her self-abnega- 
 tions, Jack refused to take the opportunity she offered him 
 of again being Ada's lover and soon her husband, why, then 
 she, Nellie, had a right to rest upon her oars, with a certain 
 amount of satisfaction for good deeds done in the past, and 
 with a certain amount of hope for the future. 
 
 The love of Nellie for Jack was not of the ordinary 
 passionate kind, that perhaps bursts into life like a fifth of 
 November bonfire, only to die as quickly as it flames. She 
 felt a great deal of the kind of afft'ction a sister might have 
 for a favourite brother, as well as th<; ordinary downright 
 
1 -1.1 "' < 
 
 270 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 love of lovers. It was this sisterly affection that had 
 enabled her to conquer her other passion, and to act the 
 unselliah part ol one of those loving sisters, wlio is willing 
 to sacrifice herself in her, perhaps unworthy, brother's 
 interests, and who does it. 
 
 Nellie had often said, when chaffed about Jack in the 
 old days long ago, ** Oh, yes, I love him like a mother." 
 This, too, although said in jest, was true. Sh ? had liked 
 to watch over him like a mother ; she had got to love him 
 like a sister — from loving him like a sister, to loving him 
 like a lover. This last love had swallowed up the two 
 former ; and now she loved him with the strength of all 
 three coiubined. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 THE "quekn's birthday parade." 
 
 vO those who have not the opportunity of witness- 
 ing a real battle, and yet for whom the sninkc 
 and noise of gunpowder is an attraction, a 
 Queen's birthday parade offers a great amount 
 of pleasure, especially when the festival is celebrated by 
 a large garrison. 
 
 The Queen's birthday at Devonport was, in the year 
 of our story, a treat looked forward to for some time 
 beforehand by all the powder-loving inhabitants of the 
 " three towns." Among these, of course, the ladies pre- 
 dominated, and by them was many a hard fight fought for 
 the coveted tickets giving admission to the ramparts directly 
 in rear of the saliiting base. A privileged few were ad- 
 mitted into the private enclosure reserved for the admirals 
 and other high ofecials, who, although present in ttieir 
 grandest of uniforms, did not take any active part m the 
 proceedings. This enclosure was next to the sr.luting flag, 
 and was the best place of all from whence to witness the 
 " march past." 
 
 George Triscott being flag-lieutenant to the naval 
 commander-in-chief it is not to be wondered at that Ada 
 and her cousin Rose, then on a visit at 'ramar Terrace, 
 ^ra,ced this enclosure with their pretty fav r> .lad frocks. 
 
272 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
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 The parade was a grand one, consisting of both soldiers 
 and sailoii ; for the blue-jackets, men and boys, were for 
 the nonce given rifles, and were prepared to fire their 
 feu-de-joie^ and to show that they knew their infantry drill 
 as well as any of the *' grabbies," as they are pleased to 
 term the soldiers. The ship's boys from the Adelaide^ 
 Implacable, and Indus, formed a company by themselves, 
 and right well the little fellows looked. All the blue-jackets 
 together made up a splendid battalion. To many people 
 the blue-jackets, with their tarpaulin hats, and loose, easy, 
 white-collared dress, formed the principal feature in the 
 day's proceedings. 
 
 The companies were commanded by naval officers, 
 who showed themselves quite efficient as captains and 
 subalterns ; while the whole battalion was commanded by 
 Captain Hemmings, who, upon this occasion, looked every 
 inch a soldier, ihat is, as much a soldier as a man with 
 large gold epaulettes and a cocked hat can look. In one 
 thing Captain Hemmings was wise : he did not, while in 
 the proud position of commander of a battalion of infantry, 
 ride a horse. No doubt he would have liked to have done 
 so, for all the other soldiers did ; but then people are apt 
 to make ill-natured remarks about riding up the rigging 
 when they see a naval officer in full dress on horseback. 
 He therefore contented himself with commanding his 
 battalion on foot. 
 
 Some of our readers may doubt the fact of blue-jackets 
 and naval officers generally being such proficients at infantry 
 drill. If so, let the unbelievers take a voyage to India on 
 board one of Her Majesty's troopships ; they may then 
 see the sailors drilling all day long. We ourselves re- 
 'nemberj upon such an occasion, a naval officer who had 
 
 Is. - i 
 
I i 
 
 THE ''(^UEEN'6 BIRTHDAY PARADE'' 273 
 
 one pet evolution, whirh he used to perform on all days 
 and in all weathers : this was to " fix swords " and " prepare 
 for cavalry." Then, much to the delight of 'I'ommy Atkins, 
 might the gallant blue-jackets have been seen down on 
 the knee, firmly grasping their rifles with an expression of 
 face which seemed to say : 
 
 " No matter how this 'ere ship rolls, nor how it pitches, 
 nor however much the wind blows, no cavalry shall come 
 aboard of this 'ere craft — no ! none whatever." 
 
 But we are digressing, for pleasant recollections have 
 -arried us away, far out to sea, whereas we now have to do 
 with soldiers and sailors on dry land. 
 
 A little before twelve o'clock, on the 24th of May, the 
 troops, naval and military, vvert drawn up in line in the 
 followmg order • The sailors, being the senior arm, were 
 on the right, then came a battery of artillery, and then the 
 infantry. This consisted of four battalions, i.e., three hne 
 regiments and a strong battalion of marines. The line 
 extended almost from end to end of the Peoples Park. 
 Owing to the configuration of the ground, the line of 
 troops was disposed in a curve, which was looked upon 
 as rather an advantage than otherwise by the non-military 
 spectator. 
 
 At one minute to twelve, the gent ral and all his staff 
 being in their places in front of the centre of the line, 
 all began to strike their knees tight into their horses' sides. 
 In this manoeuvre they were strictly obeyed by all colonels, 
 majors, and other mounted officers, although no word of 
 command had been given. It was not necess, ry. 
 
 At twelve o'clock — yes^ at twelve o'clock precisely — the 
 fun began. " Royal salute ! Present arms ! " The cannon 
 booming, the whole line presenting arms, all the officers 
 
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 saluting with tbeir swords, the colours of the different 
 rc[i;iments slowly lowered to majesty, the sun flashing from 
 bayonets and swords during the motions of the '^ present." 
 All these — simple as they may seem to the soldier, who 
 " slaps his gun " daily — combined, so Ada thought, to make 
 the prettiest military picture she had ever seen. 
 
 It was imposing and beautiful, on that bright sunshiny 
 May morning, to see several thousand rifles moved as one, 
 and to hear all the butts " tell " together from end to end 
 cf the line, as the dazzling white slings were simultaneously 
 brought to the front, causing nearly as much of a flash as 
 the steel bayonets themselves. 
 
 " Shoulder arms ! Fire three fiux-de-jotes, seven guns 
 between each. Ready. Present. Fire ! " 
 
 Reader, have you ever witnessed a feu-de-joie ? If so, 
 you know how imposing it is if well done. Upon this 
 occasion it was well done. From right to left of the line, 
 down the front rank, ran the Ime of fire. Not the eightieth 
 part of a second of time between the discharge of one rifle 
 and that of the next, and yet not two rifles fired together. 
 Down the front rank of the sailors, down the — th regi- 
 ment, then the two others, and then down the front of the 
 marines, who were on the extreme left. No sooner had the 
 line of fire reached the end than back it came again, back 
 along the rear ranks, from left to right, from the left hand 
 marine of all to the right hand blue-jacket of all. 
 
 Several thousands of rifles had been discharged con- 
 secutively in far less time than it has taken to write this 
 description of the performance. This was done three times, 
 to the delight of the spectators, while the big guns gently 
 rallied and smashed all the windows in the neighbourhood 
 between Liiues. 
 
THE "QUEEN'S BIRTHDAY PARADE"- 275 
 
 Oh ! it was a most successful birthday parade. The 
 marching past was splendid. No naval officer fell upon his 
 own sword and cut his own throat, as had once happened, 
 so the story goes, at Southsea, to one who was skirmishing. 
 No, all marched proudly by, officers and men, and marched 
 in a way which excited universal admiration. 
 
 The infantry marched past in " column of double com- 
 panie ," "mass of columns," and "line of columns," con- 
 secutively. As the — th came by, marching splendidly in 
 double companies, each more like a wall of red brick than 
 of men, there was only one officer or man in the whole 
 battalion who nearly made a mistake that would have 
 spoiled it all. This was Lieutenant Sir John Treleaven. 
 His captain being away, he was commanding the company, 
 and consequently took the right of the line of officers, his 
 company being that next the saluting flag. As all the 
 officers would have to take the time from his signal to 
 salute, it behoved him to be particularly careful. But Jack 
 forgot to give the signal until within about cwo paces of the 
 general, instead of the regulated ten. He had nearly 
 caused all those officers on his left, as well as himself, 
 to pass the general without saluting at all. A most dreadful 
 military offence this would have been, and one which would 
 undoubtedly have entailed upon the regiment endless drill 
 and a sharp reprimand. Moreover, no officer would have 
 dared to hint at such a thing as leave until the general 
 might choose to forgive such a slight being put upon him, 
 which might not have been for months. 
 
 And bow was it that Jack came to make such a mistake 
 — narrowly escaping thereby stupidly undoing all the pains 
 his colonel had been taking with officers and men for 
 weeks past in anticipation of this parade ? Simply this ; 
 
276 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 he had glanced to his right to see if he was in his proper 
 place to give the signal to salute, when his eyes met those 
 of Ada where she stood in the admirals' enclosure. He 
 was approaching her, and he saw her gaze was intensely 
 fixed on him. When she saw that he had caught her eye, 
 she blushed confusedly and hid her face in her handkerchief. 
 This little incident it was that made our hero forget all 
 about counting his paces, and which so nearly condemned 
 the regiment to perpetual drill. 
 
 After each regiment had marched past^ first in " column 
 of double companies " with arms shouldered, and then at 
 "the trail," the sailors retired from the scene, while the 
 soldiers consecutively marched past again in " mass of 
 columns " and in " line of columns " ; this last evolution 
 being the most imposing of all, if well performed, as it was 
 indeed, like everything else that day. 
 
 This concluded the show part of the performance, at 
 least, so thought most of the spectators. But the troops 
 now engaged in a sham fight, which kept them out for some 
 time longer. As this was uninteresting to Ada, she walked 
 home across the two hundred yards or so of grass which 
 alone intervened between the spot where she was standing 
 and the house in Tamar Terrace. As Rose Trefry was not 
 so accustomed to military spectacles, and, moreover, did 
 not seem inclined to quit the society of her cousin George, 
 who looked particularly handsome in his full-dress uniform, 
 Ada promised to meet them both in three-quarters of an 
 hour's time. 
 
 As they were all bidden to the luncheon which the 
 officers of the — th regiment were giving after the parade, 
 they promised to await her at a spot where there could be 
 no possibility of their missing each other, The place of 
 
THE ''QUEEX'S BIRTHDAY PARADE'' 277 
 
 rendezvous fixed on, therefore, wac the clock-tower-sur- 
 mounted building which abuts upon the centre of the road 
 inside the ramparts traversing the Raglan Barracks from 
 north to south. It was impossible for any one to mistake 
 the place. 
 
 Ada arrived at the appointed time, which happened to 
 be about ten minutes after the return of the troops to 
 barracks. To her surprise, she could see no sign of her 
 brother and cousin. She looked up and down the road in 
 vain. She perceived then that the Cumberland Gate, that 
 gate at the be .torn of the road where she was standing, was 
 closed. Knowing, however, the geography of the barracks, 
 and that there was another gate close by, namely, that 
 through which the soldiers quartered in the South Raglan 
 must have just marched in, she hoped to see the absentees 
 coming that way. She looked accordingly across the 
 barrack-square, here several hundred yards wide. She saw 
 no one, with the exception of a few military personages 
 standing in a little knot, a bugler, a sergeant, a corporal, 
 and the orderly officer. The latter, who was dressed in 
 blue undress, had his back towards her. 
 
 As she looked, the bugler sounded the men's dinner-call, 
 the well-known " Pick 'em up, pick 'em up, hot potatoes ; " 
 and off went the other three as hard as they could go. It 
 seemed to Ada to be a race which should reach the barracks 
 first : the corporal, the sergeant, or the officer. There was 
 something familiar to her in the gait of the latter ; but, as 
 the trio rapidly disappeared round the corner of the barracks 
 near the gate by which she expected her brother and Rose, 
 she was unable to make out who it was. 
 
 She took a little turn up for about a few yards. As she 
 retraced her steps, she perceived the military trio suddenly 
 
 1. 
 
 
 
 m 
 
278 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 reapnearing in the distance ; tiiey, having visited the diners 
 in the end block of buildings, were now apparently in as 
 great a hurry as ever to enter the passages of ^hich the 
 doorways were visible from where she stood. 
 
 Ada had good eyesight. She now perceived that the 
 orderly officer, who was dashing up and downstairs with 
 such celerity, now appearing on the verandah above for a 
 second or two, now clattering along the one beneath, was 
 Sir John Treleaven. She had somehow not thought of him. 
 Having seen him upon parade in red, it never struck her 
 that he might have changed his coat. Ada also knew, from 
 what he had himself formerly told her, that it was not a 
 usual circumstance for the orderly officer to attend i)arades 
 outside the barrack walls. But the Queen's birthday parade 
 was an exception, and Jack had been taken to make up the 
 number. 
 
 Ada for the first time in her life now saw how quickly 
 the rooms can be visited in a large block of buildings by an 
 officer when in a hurry, as our hero appeared to be. In two 
 or three minutes he had finished them all; and then, the 
 sergeant and corporal having saluted and disappeared, to 
 her astonishment, she saw Jack coming, still at top-speed, 
 straight across the square in the direction of the building 
 by which she was standing. 
 
 Ada's heart palpitated as she saw him approaching, but 
 she remembered that this building contained the garrison 
 ceils ; the entrance to this was on the side next the square. 
 Thinking he might have business there, she moved round 
 to the other side, being anxious to avoid an interview. " 
 
 There were still no signs of the missing ones in the 
 quarter whence she expected them, and, as several carriages 
 coiuaiiiiiig 11 lends and acquaintances had already roiled h^ 
 
THE ''QUEEN'S BIRTHDAY PARADE'' 279 
 
 to discharge their luncheon-expecting loads, Ada was com- 
 mencing to feel the discomfoit of her unprotected position. 
 She determined on strolling up the road again, to the gate 
 by which she had entered, the north-eastern barrier, as it 
 was called; and then she thought she would go home, 
 it was so unpleasant wandering about there by herself. 
 
 However, as it happened. Jack was not going to visit 
 the garrison cells ; he, like Ada, was bound for the north- 
 eastern barrier gate, where he was about to turn out the 
 guard. As she passed the archway under the clock, he 
 emerged from it full tilt against her. 
 
 " Why, Ada — Miss Triscott," he exclaimed, " what are 
 you doing here all alone ? " and he held out his hand. 
 
 Ada blushed crimson as she took it. 
 
 " I'm waiting for my cousin George ; they should have 
 been here ten minutes ago. I don't know what to do. I 
 thought they would have come in by the Cumberland Gate ; 
 but that, I see, is closed. And since then I have been 
 watching the gate near your guard-room, but can see no 
 signs of them. I think I had better go home." 
 
 " Oh, no, pray don't do that," said Jack ; " the Cumber- 
 land Gate is closed to-day by order, but they can get in by 
 the other one, and, no doubt, will be here directly. I'll 
 stay with you if you'll allow me. I think I had better, as 
 there are a good many people about." 
 
 "Oh! but I'm afraid I'm detaining you," said Ada; 
 " you seemed to be in a hurry just now." And she added, 
 with a smile : ** I've been watering you going round the 
 men's dinners. You have often told me about it before, 
 you know ; but this is the first opportunity I've had of 
 seeing how it's really done. I hope there were *no 
 complaints'?" 
 
28o 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 It was happiness to be with Jack, though only for a 
 moment, and Ada could not help showing it in her manner. 
 
 " Dear Ada," saio Jack, " fancy your remembering all 
 that so long. Suppose we stroll slowly up towards the 
 barrier gate, for I see no signs of your people coming the 
 ol!her way. Perhaps they've gone round, and we shpll meet 
 them." 
 
 (Jack hoped devoutly they would not) 
 
 Ada knew full well that all Plymouth would know she had 
 been walking with Jack. She remembered also her uncle's 
 injunction. But what was she to do ? She could not stop 
 by the clock-tower all day, and if she was to go home, 
 as Jack's road apparently lay in the same direction, how 
 could she help his accompanying her? 
 
 " Ada," said Jack, presently, " this is probably the last 
 opportunity I shall have of seeing you before you are 
 married. I saw how your uncle carried you off from me on 
 the day ot MoH'c's wedding, so if it had not been for this 
 accidental meeting, I should not, for your own sake, have 
 spoken to you to-day. Oh, Ada I it is too sad to think I 
 am going to lose you for ever. It is simply maddening for 
 me to think of you as the wife of another. It spoils my 
 whole life ! I assure you, Ada, I have not done the thing 
 unworthy of you which your relations believe. Will you 
 not now, before it is too late, decide ? You have told me 
 you love me still, you may yet break off this engagement, 
 which cannot be for your happiness, and become my wife. 
 Oh, Ada, will you ? Let us turn." 
 
 They had reached the garrison gate, Ada turned 
 mechanically. Stopping then a moment on the pavement, 
 she laid her daiiMily-gloved hand on his arm. She was 
 very pale. 
 
THE ''QUEEN'S BIRTHDAY PARADE" 381 
 
 " Jack," she said, " I tell you now, as I told you the 
 other day, if you will clear yourself with my relations, as 
 you have by your simple word with myself, I will break off 
 that engagement — I will become your wife." Here they 
 moved on again. "If you cannot do this — if you cannot 
 prove satisfactorily to my u.icle and George that you are 
 spotless in this matter, as God knows I believe you to be — 
 why, then, I must fulfil that engagement, as in honour I am 
 bound to do. Could I see any prospect of honourably 
 becoming your wife, I would infallibly break off that 
 engagement." 
 
 " To what engagement do you allude, pray ? " said a 
 dry voice, close behind them. 
 
 It was Captain Hemmings who had been sent by 
 George to fetch his sister, and to explain that a slight 
 accident had detained them. Walking behind them up the 
 hill, he had, unperceived by Ada and Jack, overheard the 
 concluding words of her sentence. 
 
 Ada turned on hearing his voice. Lookmg him straight 
 in the face, she replied, distinctly : 
 
 ** My engagement with you. Captain Hemmings. It is 
 with Sir John Treieaven to decide whether it is to be 
 broken off or not. Unless, indeed, after this, you decide 
 to break it off yourself. You know, although you have had 
 my highest esteem and regard, that I have never told you 
 or pretended that I could give you my whole heart." 
 
 " And may I inquire," asked Hemmings, sarcastically, 
 " how Sir John Treieaven is concerned in this matter ? " 
 
 *' Oh, it is simply a question of honour, which, I am 
 afraid, you would not understand," replied Jack, pointedly. 
 " JitxQly whether I choose to exculpate myself in a certain 
 matter by inculpating another man, will decide whether 
 
 ,1 
 
 il*. 
 
 1* 
 
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 l:i..| 
 
 ill' 
 
389 
 
 ADA TRl SCOTT 
 
 Miss Triscott is to become your wife or mine. Perhaps, 
 though, you may understand, after all ? " looking at him 
 fixedly. "But make your mind easy, for I regard my 
 honour too dearly to do it ; possibly, after what you have 
 heard of the state of Miss Triscott'a feelings, you personally 
 may, as she herself says, not wish tc prosecute this match ? " 
 (sarcastically) ; " nobody's honour need then, you know, 
 ever be troubled by qualms of conscience at any time. But 
 we had better go in and have some lunch." 
 
 And, having reached the barracks, the three went in 
 together in silence. 
 
 

 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 PREPARATIONS. 
 
 ACK and Ada saw no more of each other that 
 day, nor, indeed, did they ever again meet 
 during the few weeks that intervened between 
 the incidents which we have just recounted 
 and the death of VViUiam Fox, which disaster, as our 
 readers will remember, had taken place at a period only 
 about ten days before the date fixed for the marriage. 
 This, as Captain Hemmings had, it appears, not determined 
 upon releasing Ada from her engagement, was still to come 
 off as if nothing had occurred to mar the harmony which 
 had existed bet^ een the betrothed coupie. 
 
 Hemmings »iad, however, once attempted to reproach 
 his fiancee with her conduct, and to take rather a high tone 
 with her. But he found that this plan did not answer at all 
 with Ada, whom it was evident he held upon a very pre- 
 carious tenure. As she repeated to him when alone what 
 she had said in Jack's presence, i.e.^ " that he was at liberty 
 to relinquish her if he chose," and as this was the last thing 
 he had any intention of doing, he had considered it 
 advisable to change his tone. He accepted her apologies 
 for any pain she might have caused him, and said " that, 
 although he regretted she could not love him now with her 
 whole heart, he hoped she would learn to do so in time, 
 and it would not be his fault if she did not/' 
 
 w 
 
 i. 
 
 > • i 
 
284 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 In truth, Richard Hemmings was prepared to pass over 
 everything, so that Ada still became his wife. He really 
 loved her as well as it waj in his power to love anything 
 but himself, and he was not above taking advantage of 
 Jack's generosity to gain possession of her. 
 
 To do the commander justice, he was not so wholly 
 hardened that he could not feel at times both ashamed of 
 himself and sorry for Jack, whom he had swindled out of 
 his wife. Although he had done mean things and was 
 utterly unprincipled, he felt at times as if he would be 
 perfectly contented could he personally have the matter out 
 with our hero in a hand-to-hand encounter, and let the best 
 fellow win. 
 
 He felt as if he owed Jack some reparation and would 
 readily have offered it, determined to abide by the result 
 whether he might win or lose, and so lay a salve to his 
 accusing conscience. But, unfortunately for such wishes as 
 these, duelling has gone out of fashion. 
 
 "Therefore," said Hemmings to himself, "there is 
 nothing to be done.** 
 
 He could not help thinking that Treleaven had shown 
 himself a gentleman in withholding his name in the Laura 
 Luscombe affair; but, although acknowledging that he 
 himself most certainly would never have acted so nobly, 
 these considerations, if anything, only made him long the 
 more that he could, by challenging Jack to mortal combat, 
 wipe off the dreadful load of obligation under which he 
 writhed. 
 
 This sense of obligation to his rival weighed him down. 
 It was uselef T for him to say to himself, " Oh ! Treleaven's 
 a fool — he should have taken the girl when he could, it's 
 bis own fault " ; for the knowledge that he had himself 
 
PREPARATIONS 
 
 a85 
 
 behaved like a blackguard to obtain that girl, and that Jack 
 was too honourable to expose that blackguardism, often 
 caused him to pass a mauvais quart d'heure. He even 
 thought sometimes of going to Treleaven, and, as he could 
 not fight him, of apologising to him ; but it is needless to 
 say that this idea was never carried out, for Captain 
 Hemmings was by no means the man to apologise, no 
 matter what the injury he had done. However conscience- 
 stricken — for we suppose that is the term which best 
 explains his state of feelings — Hemmings might be, it 
 did not now prevent him doing all in his power to hurry 
 on his marriage. In his restless, uneasy, unsettled state, 
 he was anxious to have it over and done with. 
 
 Ada seemed careless as to when it took place. She 
 told herself there was no hope of ever seeing Jack again, as 
 anything more than the merest acquaintance ; so why 
 should she wish for further delay ? 
 
 Neither Rose Trefry nor George had learned anything 
 of the interview between herself, Jack, and Hemmings on 
 the day of the Queen's birthday parade, more than that 
 such an interview had taken place ; for, after having been 
 detained at the Admiralty House on the day in question, 
 whence they had sent Hemmings on, they had themselves 
 walked into the officers' mess to lunch, just behind the trio. 
 Rose, indeed, had asked her cousin a question on the 
 subject ; but, finding she was unhappy and not inclined to 
 enlighten her, she did not press the point. 
 
 Rose was not in these latter days of the engagement 
 quite happy herself about Ada. She began to think now, 
 when it was too late, that perhaps she had not done quite 
 wisely in being such a thorough abettor of the match. 
 Indeed, she began to fear that she had, in some measure, 
 
286 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 1 I 
 
 mi 
 
 
 passively, if not actively, helped to mar her cousin's life. 
 She had asked Ada once " if she was happy at the idea of 
 her approaching marriage," and the latter had replied, 
 " perfectly happy " ; but it had been in such a manner as 
 most completely belied her words. 
 
 Rose, too, had begun to find that she herself did not 
 like and appreciate Captain Hemmings quite so much as 
 in the days prior to her cousin's engagement. Perhaps he 
 no longer considered it necessary to show her all those 
 little attentions, which he had never neglected when staying 
 at Tristillian, and which he had probably thought it to his 
 interest to display ; but, whatever the reason, she did not 
 now care about him or his manner so much as she once 
 did. This feeling, 'lowever, she was careful to conceal from 
 Ada. She was now staying with her cousin, and would be 
 with her until the wedding. 
 
 A couple of days after poor Fox had been drowned, the 
 Triscotts had once more left Penallyn, after a short stay 
 there, and Rose was assisting her cousin now daily in 
 giving the finishing touches to her trousseau. Lansdowne 
 and Spearman's shops in Plymouth had been considered 
 by William Triscott and Ada herself as quite good enough 
 to supply it, and so, although Rose, whose ideas were rather 
 grand, had represented the necessity of a visit to London, 
 she had been overruled. 
 
 The wedding was to be from Tamar Terrace, and it was 
 arranged that as Captain Hemmings was, notwithstanding 
 his connections with the Admiralty, unable to get more 
 than a week's leave just at present, the bride and bride- 
 groom should have the use of the house at Penallyn for 
 that period, after which they would return to live quietly 
 for a time in Devonport until later on in the autumn, when 
 
PREPARATION'S 
 
 287 
 
 the commander hoped to be able to get away with his wife 
 for a tour on the Contin'^nt. 
 
 To tell the truth, Ada did not feel sorry that the 
 honeymoon should be a limited one. She dreaded 
 even the seven days' seclusion with her husband just at 
 first ; afterwards, she supposed she should get accustomed 
 to it. 
 
 About this period it is highly probable that some of our 
 readers may commence to exclaim : 
 
 "Oh, Jack Treleaven is an ass — an impossible ass! 
 No man in his senses, being a baronet, the possessor of 
 several thousands per annum, and of a pretty woman's love 
 to boot, would for the mere sake of a point of honour, and 
 that at the best a djubtfal one, allow the said pretty 
 woman to be carried away from him by a man not in the 
 possession of any of these worldly advantages." 
 
 " It is absurd ! " the soldiers will say. " Why, if it's 
 only for the honour cf the service, he should cut that fellow 
 Hemmings out, and never let Ada become a sailor's wife ; 
 she's altogether too good for the navy." 
 
 The sailor may exclaim : " Confound that fellow Tre- 
 leaven ! why does he not take Ada Triscott off the com- 
 mander's hands? A young man married is a young man 
 marred ! And it is evidi\nt that it is only since he took, in 
 one form or another, to having dealings with the sex, that 
 Hemmings has displayed the worst points in his character. 
 Before that he was, by all accounts, both a good enough 
 otticer and a brave fello-^'. No, hang it all ; let the army 
 have her, it will be the best thmg for Hemmings that ever 
 happened to him I " 
 
 The fair reader v/ill pro'>:il)ly consider that thiir^s are 
 best as they are, for Ada is a gii! of n ) s[)iiit;, 01 else siic is 
 
 
 'I 
 
 1^ (i 
 
r 
 
 288 
 
 ADA TRI SCOTT 
 
 i 
 
 a fool, to marry a man she does not care about, and that she 
 deserves her fate, for she will soon enough find out that she 
 has married a Tartar. 
 
 " Why?" will our fair reader exclaim, in a fit of righteous 
 indignation. " If she is so afraid of what her uncle and 
 George would say, which is apparently the only deterrent, 
 why does she not * bolt ' with Jack and leave that Captain 
 Hemmings in the lurch? Her uncle would soon forgiv6 
 her; and as for George — well, although he is evidently 
 meant to be a good fellow, he should choose his friends 
 better, and I am sure if I was in Ada's place I should not 
 care twopence for his opinion, and just tell Jack that he 
 was a dear fellow, and that I would marry him to-morrow if 
 he chose to take me without any fuss, as of course he 
 would, and be glad to get me, too. With all his money, he 
 could easily provide the thirty pounds necessary for a 
 special license; it could be done at once without any 
 bother whatever, except travelling a few hours by train to 
 London or Bristol or some other place, just to be out of 
 the way till the ceremony was over. Once over, everybody 
 would forgive me for having at the last minute married 
 a rich young baronet, instead of a mere commander in the 
 navy." 
 
 Yes, young lady, being, as we are sure you are, a young 
 woman of spirit, this is no doubt the course you would 
 pursue, if you did not reflect. But, being also a young 
 lady of honour, we are certain that after a little reflection 
 you would do nothing of the sort, but pursue the same 
 course as that followed by Ada, />., the straightforward and 
 honourable one. Break off the match openly if you like, 
 but marry Jack on the sly ? — no, we know you would never 
 do it, so don't pretend you would. You won't deceive mj. 
 
PREPARATIONS 
 
 28$ 
 
 But there is no use in our dwelling longer upon this point, 
 for nothing is more certain than that Ada will marry Captair 
 Hemmings. She has made up her mind, and the wedding 
 will take place — to-morrow 1 
 
 
 
CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 THE WEDDING. 
 
 APPY is the bride that the sun shines on." 
 S) says an old proverb, wliich is probably 
 worth as much, neither more nor less, as 
 other old proverbs. Still, if the mere fact of 
 the sun shining makes brides happy, then indeed Ada ought 
 to have been a happy bride. 
 
 It was a glorious summer's morning when Ada woke at 
 about half-past five on the day that was to be the last of 
 her maidenhood. The merry little sparrows twittering 
 outside on the railings of the park seemed to have made up 
 their minds that they were going to enjoy it, and going to 
 lose no time about beginning to do so. But to Ada their 
 twitterings brought positive pain. 
 
 As she got out of the bed that she was to occupy no 
 more, and threw up her window to let in the dancing 
 sunlight and fresh sea breeze, what a flood of recollections 
 burst upon her mind ! Presently she heard the " reveille " 
 sounded by a solitary bugle down at the main guard, and, 
 immediately aftcrsvards, a dozen more from the barracks 
 echoed the call. As the clear uotes rang out, she felt she 
 could stand it no longer — she could not remain indoors, she 
 must go out. 
 
 She dressed rapidly, and did an extraordinary thing for 
 
THE WEDDING 
 
 291 
 
 a girl who was going that day to be married. Quietly letting 
 herself out of the house, she started off right away through 
 Plymouth to the Hoe, distant about a mile from Tamar 
 Terrace. There were very few people in the streets, and 
 those were al' of the labouring artisan classes, going early 
 to their work. One and all they turned to stare at the 
 well-dressed young lady on her solitary walk. But Ada 
 never noticed them, she only walked on the faster. 
 
 Up Durnford Street, up the long Citadel Road, past the 
 " Duke of Cornwall," and the Millbay barracks, and she 
 was on the Hoe ir fifteen minutes' li.ne from leaving the 
 house. Once there, she had it all to herself. Yes, that 
 beautiful view, that azure sky, those dancing waves, Drake's 
 Island, Fort Stadden, Mount-Edgecumbe, the Breakwater, 
 the shipping — there they were as of yore, when she used to 
 come here in the happy days witli Jack. She had come to 
 say good-bye to them all. True, she might see them all 
 again and often — but in the same way, never ! Good-bye, 
 good-bye, good-bye ! Sweet nature endeared by sweeter 
 memories of the love of her heart, now to be buried and 
 forgotten, deep beneath the rippling, blue, smiling sea, 
 never more to reappear upon the sparkling surface ! Good- 
 bye to it all, and for ever farewell ! 
 
 She took one long look, and then turned to go. To 
 her surprise, she saw she was not alone. A lady, carrying 
 a couple of towels, and evidently going for a morning bathe, 
 was leisurely crossing the Hoe, and must pass close by where 
 she stood to descend the steps. 
 
 Ada recognised her in a minute ; it was Nellie Watson. 
 It was like her, who would lie in bed to please herself, to 
 get up to please herself also. For the last few days she had 
 taken it into her head that to have a morning bathe at six 
 
 \\x 
 
 1: i !. 
 
 V 
 
293 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 o'clock a.m. was the only thing in the world for her health. 
 A little mild opposition to the idea on the part of her aunt 
 had decided her to follow out her plan, had given it an 
 additional piquancy, and caused her to enjoy it only the 
 more thoroughly. 
 
 As Ada saw her coming, whisking her towels about, but 
 evidently not observing her, she thought for a moment of 
 concealing herself behind the little house containing the 
 camera obscura, by which she was standing. But, on second 
 thoughts, she changed her mind. Why should she hide ? 
 She would rather like to see Nellie, she thought, on this 
 morning of all mornings. She was fond of Nellie, and had long 
 ago forgiven her her remarks about Captain H»emmings, since, 
 although abusing him, she had also warmly defended Jack. 
 The last action outweighed the former, which Ada attributed 
 to some mistake on Nellie's part. So Ada determined to 
 stay where she was, and had just turned to the sea to wipe 
 her moistened eyes, when Nellie looked up and saw her. 
 As Ada turned again, the pair were instantly face to face. 
 
 " Good morning, Nellie," she said, quietly. 
 
 " Why, Ada, how are you, dear ? What on earth are 
 you doing up so early, and so far away from home ? Have 
 you come to bathe, like me ? I had no idea you were such 
 an early bird." 
 
 "No," replied Ada, smiling at Nellie's volubility, but 
 rather sorrowfully ; " I was not thinking of bathing, Nellie, 
 I came to say good-bye." 
 
 " Ah, yes," said Nellie, " I understand ; your wedding- 
 day, eh ? Well, I won't insult you by congratulating you 
 while you are taking your last look at the old places, for I 
 know you would not appreciate my doing so, nor believe I 
 meant it. But I respect you for having the pluck to do itj 
 
ADA TRI SCOTT 
 
 293 
 
 though. By the way, you might as well come down and 
 have a swim with me ; it won't take long, and will do you 
 no end of good. I'll walk back to Tamar Terrace with you, 
 and give you a wedding present besides. I suppose you 
 did not tell any one you were coming out ? " 
 
 " No," said Ada, " there was nobody stirring, so perhaps 
 I had better go back before I am missed. Oh, dear, what 
 a long day it's going to be ! Never mind about the present, 
 Nellie, your father sent rae one from you all. Besides, I've 
 no towels." 
 
 " Never mind," said Nellie, " I must settle this matter 
 for you. If you are missed, you'll want a reason. To-day 
 being your wedding-day. Rose or somebody will be up 
 early, and miss you. Your reason shall be that you've been 
 for a bathe with me, and I'll go back with you to bear you 
 out, have a cup of tea, and look at your finery. As for the 
 present, my father sent you a formal present, I believe ; but 
 the one I am going to give you is not a formal present. It 
 is only worth sixpence, and probably not that intrinsically 
 now, but perhaps you may value it as I do, or I should .lot 
 give it to you to-day. Come along down to the baths ; you 
 shall have the present after our swim ; I've got two towels.'' 
 
 Ada enjoyed the bathe ; the fresh sea-water cooled her 
 burning brow, and seemed to give fresh strength to her 
 limbs. As Nellie had predicted, " It did her a power of 
 good." She seemed now to have strength to go through 
 the day, for Nellie's genial companionship and the swim 
 together had put new life into her. 
 
 "Now," said Nellie, as the two girls, each looking as 
 fresh as the "rosy-footed Eos," were about to quit the baths, 
 " I am going to give you the present ; will you promise 
 never to part with it ? " 
 
 m 
 
 i? ( 
 
THE WEDDING 
 
 / 
 
 " Certainly," replied Ada ; " never ! ** 
 
 "Then I am convinced," said Nellie, "that it will bring 
 you good luck sonne day, or guard you from some danger. 
 It is a real talisman, and I've never been sick or sorry, as 
 the saying is, since I possessed it. Here it is ! " and Nellie 
 produced from her purse a very battered-looking and 
 crooked old sixpence, with a hole in it, through which was 
 a little silver split ring. " Let me put it on your chain. 
 There ! now give me a kiss, Ada, and say thank you 1 And 
 I'll tell you its history." 
 
 Ada kissed her affectionately, and then Nellie went on : 
 " That crooked sixpence was formerly the property of Jack 
 Treleaven. He told me, when he gave it to me three years 
 ago, that he believed it had saved his life more than once. 
 There is no doubt a >out its being a real talisman, you see. 
 Take care of it, and perhaps it may save your life, too, some 
 day. Now, let's be going ! " 
 
 It was a quarter past seven o'clock when the two girls 
 arrived at Tamar Terrace, and the house was all astir. Ada 
 had only just been missed, but her cousin was in rather 
 a fria:ht. 
 
 Nellie told a white lie, and said she had made Ada 
 promise to have a bathe with her on her wedding-day, 
 which removed all responsibility from Ada's shoulders, and 
 saved her from having to enter into any explanations. It 
 was only looked upon as one of Nellie's wild freaks. 
 
 Nellie stopped to breakfast at eight, and then, after 
 a good look at the wedding garments, went off. Her 
 cheerful manner and lively talk had kept every one from 
 feeling sad while she was there, and, after she was gone, 
 the important business of dressing the bride commenced. 
 Nobody then had time to feel sad. 
 
ADA TIUSCOTT 
 
 295 
 
 Nellie had previously declined to come to the wedding- 
 breakfast ; she, however, promised to go to the church, and 
 see the ceremony take place. Even this she would not 
 have done but for her accidental meeting with Ada that 
 morning, for she did not feel at all as if the marriage 
 should have been allowed to come off; and much as she . 
 herself loved Jack, and inclined as she was to listen to his 
 opinions, she felt angry with him for not having interfered 
 in some way to prevent it. Had he been in that day, 
 Nellie had said to herself, " She should have let him know 
 her opinion on the luaiter." 
 
 He was, however, still away seeing after his farm in 
 Cornwall, at least that was his excuse, so Nellie had no 
 opportunity of expressing her opinion on the subject. 
 
 The wedding was at St. Peter's, the old Stoke parish 
 church, which was crammed with spectators, as tight as 
 it was possible to be filled. There in the presence of that 
 large congregation did Ada Triscott distinctly vow to love, 
 honour, and obey Richard Hemmings, " until death should 
 them part." 
 
 She looked very lovely in her bridal array. Whatever 
 she might feel inwardly, her face never lost its calm 
 expression, and she still retained some of the colour the 
 sea-water had put into her face that morning. 
 
 There were six pretty bridesmaids, but Ada outshone 
 them all. The ladies present declared that Richard Hem- 
 mings, too, looked very handsome as he stood before the 
 altar. He was dressed in full uniform, and it became him 
 well. The admiral was rather a stickler for uniforms upon 
 all occasions, and he had expressed a wish that all officers 
 attending the wedding should appear in it, which made this 
 wedding altogether a grander affair than Mollie Watson's. 
 
 a 
 
 '•(,1 • 
 
296 
 
 THE WEDDING 
 
 Among the spectators there was one, sitting far back 
 near the door, in a seat next to the passage up the aisle. 
 A young woman, ladylike-looking, and dressed in black, 
 with a veil. That was all ! As the bridal party were 
 leaving the church, there was a momentary delay while 
 waiting for the carriage. The bride and bridegroom were 
 compelled to stand for a minute in the aisle, and the sleeve 
 of the latter touched the arm of the young lady in black. 
 She raised her veil, and with a bitterly disdainful smile 
 looked him straight in the face as it did so. 
 
 Richard Hemmings turned white as a sheet, but for 
 about thirty seconds' space he had to endure that scornful 
 gaze — he could not look away ! 
 
 This was the only revenge that Laura Luscombe took 
 upon the man who had robbed her of her honour, and had 
 utterly ruined her life. 
 
THE FIRB. 
 
 I n 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 ,HR "happy pair" were, after the breakfast, 
 which lasted long, at length able to get away 
 from their friends to change for the journey 
 to Penzance, always a long and wearisome 
 one. Owing to the time of day at which they started, 
 they were not able to catch a fast train. They were 
 attended to the station by a few friends, who wished them 
 God-speed. 
 
 A carriage was waiting at Penzance to convey them 
 to Penallyn, where the old butler and two or three other 
 servants were expecting them at the Hall. In the village 
 and across the entrance of the carriage-drive were erected 
 triumphal arches of evergreens, and all the villagers turned 
 out en masse to cheer the bride and bridegroom as they 
 drove up. It was half-past eight in the evening when they 
 arrived, but, fortunately for the villagers, the sun had not 
 long set, and their triumphal arches could be seen to full 
 advantage. 
 
 Ada had been very silent during the journey down. 
 She had once or twice tried to appear gay and happy, but 
 it was no use. She hau felt several times as if she was 
 choking, and it was with the greatest difficulty she had 
 refrained from bursting into tears. 
 
 n. 
 
 1 1< »(' 
 
298 
 
 ADA TA'/scorr 
 
 I 
 
 llf 
 
 i. 
 
 Her husband, who had seen th.it she was sad and 
 preoccupied, attributed it to natural feebng upon such 
 an occasion, and, after a few ineffectual attempts at con- 
 versation, had settled himself in his own corner of the 
 carriage and read a book. This was the kindest thing 
 he could have done, as it left Ada uninterruptedly to 
 her own thoughts. 
 
 Now, however, upon arrival^ in the village, she was 
 compelled to rouse herself up ; and several times, when the 
 carriage was stopped by the bumpkins, and she and her 
 husband had to undergo well-meant and honest, if some- 
 what rough, hand-shaking from friends of her youth, she 
 had to make pretty little speeches of thanks to the worthy 
 people — effort as she found it to do so. Altogether it was 
 nearly nine o'clock when the carriage drove up to the 
 hall-door. 
 
 They found dinner awaiting them. Ada could not eat, 
 but Hemmings could, and evidently enjoyed his dinner, 
 to the great satisfaction of the old butler, who had, to judge 
 from his loquaciousness, been *' keeping it up " a little in 
 honour of the bride and bridegroom. 
 
 Dinner was over at last. The evening, which had been 
 fine when they arrived, had now turned to a night of pitchy 
 darkness. The wind was rising with a long, moaning sound 
 as Ada passed the well-known oriel window in the hall and 
 looked out. As she did so, a flash of summer lightning lit 
 up the whole scene, making the landscape without appear 
 as clear as day, and revealing the thick, heavy clouds being 
 driven up from the sea. As she gazed out, a mournful 
 blast swept up the avenue, with a howl that seemed 
 strangely in unison with the feelings in Ada's own heart on 
 this her bridal night. 
 
THE FIRE 
 
 299 
 
 She remained in the window, watrhinc; the gathering 
 storm, until aroused Irom her reverie by her husband's 
 voice : 
 
 " Why, Ada, my dear ! Haven't you gone upstairs yet — 
 you look very tired, hadn't you better go ? " 
 
 She turned her eyes upon him with an absent, be- 
 wildered expression, as if she hardly understood what he 
 said ; but seeing him stand there in the dim lij^'ht of the old 
 hall seemed to bring her thoughts back to the present, and 
 she said, slowly : 
 
 "I was looking; at the storm — there ! did you see that 
 flash ? " Then, moving away from the window, " Will you 
 send my maid up to me ? I have some unpacking to do." 
 
 "Oh well," replied her husband, "so have I, so you 
 needn't hurry yourself; " and he strolled off as he spoke in 
 the direction of the billiard-room, while Ada proceeded to 
 her apartment. 
 
 Captain Hemmings thought while the unpacking went 
 on he could not employ his tim.e better than by having a 
 smoke and knocking the balls about ; but having called 
 the butler to light the lamps, he was both arnused and 
 annoyed to find that the old chap was [uite incapable 
 of the job, owing to the number of times he had drunk the 
 bride's health during the evening. 
 
 Hemmings told the old fellow not to mind about the 
 lights ; but the latter, setting the candle down on the 
 middle of the billiard-table, and assuming an air of drunken 
 gravity, marched off, carrying one of the oil-lamps with 
 him, muttering something about " make yourself quite at 
 home, sir," and "back gain'sh d'reckly." 
 
 " Drunken old swob 1 " said Hemmings to himself. " I'd 
 teach him manners it he was my servant," and by the un- 
 
 r 
 
 
300 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 certain light of a couple of candles he remained for a while 
 practising cannons, and momentarily expecting the old 
 butler to return. 
 
 As, however, this worthy came no more, the com- 
 mander, having finished his cigar, went back to the drawing- 
 room to see if the lights were out. 
 
 All was in darkness, and being satisfied that the old 
 man was not so drunk but that he could see to the safety 
 of the house, Captain Hemmings rang the bell to apprise 
 him of the fact of his retirement. 
 
 The summons was not replied to ; and the commander, 
 imagining that the old man had himself sought his couch, 
 went upstairs to his dressing-room. When half-way up the 
 stairs his steps were arrested by the smell of something 
 like burning ; but after a moment's hesitation he concluded 
 it was only the smoke of his cigar escaping from the billiard- 
 room, and accordingly continued his way to his room 
 unaiarmed. 
 
 The rooms occupied by Ada and her husband were 
 situated on the first storey, which was the top storey on 
 this side of the house, for the hall, though commodious, 
 was low and irregular ; the entrance to the rooms was from 
 a corridor or landing, a door at each end of this com- 
 municated with the front and back stairs respectively. The 
 entrance to Ada's room was near the former door. 
 
 Ada, who had some time since dismissed her maid, was 
 sitting in her dressing-gown thinking, when she heard this 
 door close and her husband's firm step pass along the 
 corridor to his own dressing-room, which was only separated 
 from hers by a couple of doors, the intervening walls being 
 thick anti solid. 
 
 On hearing him pass, Ada rose from her chair, and 
 
THE FIRE 
 
 301 
 
 was 
 
 this 
 
 the 
 
 irated 
 
 )eing 
 
 and 
 
 kneeling down at her bedside prayed long and fervently. 
 She had finished her prayers, when she turned to wind 
 up her watch as the last thing to be done. She could hear 
 her husband moving about in his room, evidently busily 
 engaged in his unpacking. Where was her watch ? She 
 could not find it, she must have left it downstairs. 
 
 In a moment she thought of the crooked sixpence that 
 was to be a talisman to preserve her from danger. It was 
 on her chain, she would not be without it for the world. 
 She remembered having taken eft her watch and chain, 
 and having left them on a little table in the drawing-room 
 on her first arrival. The talisman must be fetched. 
 
 No sooner thought of than done. Putting on a pair of 
 dainty little slippers and wrapping her dressing-gown around 
 her, Ada noiselessly slipped from her room, closing her 
 door and the door of the corridor softly behind her. She 
 ran downstairs to the drawing-room with her candle in her 
 hand. Just as she reached the drawing-room door, Ada 
 noticed, as Hemmings had done shortly before, a faint 
 smell of burning. She stopped a moment. What a queer 
 smell ! and it seeme i to issue from the drawing-room. 
 When she opened the door and went in she felt partly 
 reassured, for the room was dark, and there was only a 
 smell of the flowers that had been put there fresh that 
 morning for the bride and bridegroom ; but Ada never- 
 theless determined to go upstairs again by the back way, 
 and see if those regions were safe. 
 
 In the meantime, she could not find her watch and the 
 talisman attached to it. They were not on the table, where 
 she had left them. She hunted high and low, but nowhere 
 could she find them. Alter about ten minutes' 'fruitless 
 search, Ada was almost inclined to cry, for she felt as if the 
 
 ih 
 
302 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 loss of the talisman foreboded evil to her. Although not 
 naturally superstitious, the importance that Nellie had 
 evidently attached to the crooked coin, and the fact that it 
 had belonged to dear old Jack, were neither of them without 
 their weight. 
 
 So engrossed was she in her search, that she never 
 perceived that the smell of fire was momentarily increasing. 
 It was only when at last, having to her great joy discovered 
 the watch and talisman, too, quite safe under a clock — 
 where it had probably been placed by the drunken butler, 
 with a view to its safety — then only was it that she dis- 
 covered the room to be full of smoke. 
 
 Grasping her newly-recovered treasure tight, she turned 
 to go, very much frightened, as well she might be. Leaving 
 the drawing-room by a different door to that by which 
 she had entered, Ada crossed a vestibule, then the hall, 
 this latter being filled with smoke. She knew some part of 
 the house must be on fire, and was determined she would 
 see the worst at once. She could distinctly hear the 
 crackling of flames in the direction of the back staircase 
 and kitchens. 
 
 Laying her hand upon the handle of the door that led 
 to them it felt quite hot \ but, without a moment's hesita- 
 tion, she turned it and opened the door. A huge volume 
 of fiery smoke rolled out and enveloped her. With one 
 piercing scream she fell, choked by tne horrid fumes of 
 paraffin-oil smoke, the most suffocating of all in its effects. 
 Fortunate was it, indeed, for our heroine, that she fell 
 backward upon the stone flags of the hall instead of for- 
 ward witliin the doorway, where every tiling was now in 
 flames. • 
 
 There she lay, almost insensible, pow«^iless to move, but 
 
THE FIRE 
 
 303 
 
 still grasping her talisman tlG^htly in her hand. She had 
 placed the candle on a bracket before opening the door, 
 and its light flickered dimly through the gloom of the foetid 
 smoke which was fast choking her to death. " Oh, if she 
 could only warn Richard and the servants ! Would no 
 help come to save them and her? Perhaps her screams 
 had been heard." This was her last thought ere she became 
 quite unconscious. 
 
 Poor Ada ! there she lay in her nightdress, the flames, 
 which were raging within a few yards of her, scorching 
 her lovely bosom, which had become partly uncovered in 
 her fall. Oh, will no help come ? Is she to die a dreadful 
 death on her very wedding-day? Burned to death in the 
 home of her childhood. What a terrible fate ! Even had 
 she not gone down for the talisman, she would have perished 
 in her bed instead of where she now is. But must she 
 perish? Is there no virtue in that talisman after all? 
 Yes, there is ! Even now a pair of sturdy arms are wielding 
 a hatchet at the fastening of an adjacent window. 
 
 Another minute and a crash of glass is heard ; and then 
 an athletic form springs lightly to the floor. 
 
 Ada is lifted in a pair of wet arms, and carried to a 
 place of safety, her fingers never relaxing their hold of 
 the talisman, to the astonishment of her preserver, who 
 recognises it. 
 
 ' i\ 
 
 I 
 
 \. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 THE RESCUE. 
 
 'HILE Ada is being rescued by the arms of her 
 quondam lover, Sir John Treleaven — for he it 
 was whom Providence had brought to the 
 spot in time to save the life more precious to 
 him than his own — let us go back a little and find out 
 what it was that brought him to Penallyn exactly in the 
 nick of time. 
 
 Jack's farm at Manwinnion was only ten miles distant. 
 He had remained there, nominally looking after his affairs, 
 rather than return to Plymouth before Ada's wedding was 
 over. He did not wish to be reminded of it at every turn, 
 as he would have been if present with his regiment at the 
 time of the nuptials. Here, in the country, he could pass 
 a fortnight alone quietly, and as pleasantly as he cared to. 
 Perhaps for a distraction he flirted a little with the farmer's 
 pretty daughters, whose lovely complexions greeted him 
 daily at his tenant and host's breakfast-table ; but he did 
 not see much of them except at the breakfast-hour, for he 
 left the farm early, and seldom returned until late in the 
 evening, when he smoked a solitary pipe and went to bed. 
 He was filled with a demon of unrest, and, when not seeing 
 about business connected with the property, would ramble 
 for miles, as of old, along the trout streams, or order his 
 
THE RESCUE 
 
 305 
 
 horse and go for long rides alone at the most uncertain 
 hours. 
 
 Was he not a baronet? He could do as he chose. 
 So thought the people at the farm. Moreover, the laws 
 for the abolition of landlords not being in force as in the 
 sister isle, he was free to come and go safely, and when 
 he liked. Thus it would often happen that, after fishing all 
 day, our friend Jack would ride half the night ; and, land- 
 lord-shooting not having yet been introduced into Cornwall, 
 found precious little excitement to disturb his rambles. 
 
 The night of Ada Triscott's wedding there had been 
 something in the stormy aspect of the sky that had been 
 peculiarly attractive to lure this restless spirit forth. Despite 
 the warning of the farmer and his fair daughters, that " it 
 was blowing up for a tempest," he had ordered his horse 
 and sallied out. Riding along at a foot's pace, the wild 
 sea breeze and beating rain seemed but to refresh his 
 burning brow; while the warring of the thunder-clouds 
 seemed in accordance with his own wild thoughts. An 
 uncontrollable impulse was drawing him in the direction of 
 Penallyn. 
 
 Well he knew that Ada was now his rival's, and at first 
 he longed to turn his horse's head and gallop madly in any 
 direction but that in which he was going. But the desire to 
 revel in his own misery, as it were, by gazing on that roof 
 which he knew must be now sheltering Ada, was too strong 
 for him. He could endure, and he would endure. 
 
 As he rode along through the torrents of rain, he 
 thought of poor William Fox's frustrated revenge. Had 
 not he himself almost as powerful a reason to seek for 
 vengeance ? It was not yet too late. Might not he now 
 take a deadly revenge for all — tor the dead man Fox, for 
 
 !l 
 
 !f 
 
 
3o6 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 poor little Laura Lnscombo, and ftir hImse1f™on the mis- 
 creant who had stolen his sweet Ada from him? If ever 
 Jack had a bad moment in his life, when the devil had the 
 upper hand of him, it was now. He thirsted for action. 
 Dashing his spurs into his horse's flanks, he sprang forward 
 at a gallop. 
 
 He had soon gained an eminence, distant about half a 
 mile from Penallyn Hall, the back of which he could see 
 faintly through the gloom as the storm appeared to be 
 lifting. The side of the house visible to him chanced to be 
 that of the back premises ; but it mattered little to Jack as, 
 gnashing his teeth and meditating upon his newly-formed 
 ideas of revenge, ' e sat there In the wet watching the, to 
 him, abominated edifice. 
 
 As he watched, he noticed a light low down in the house, 
 which seemed to come and go, flickering in a most re- 
 markable manner. At first Jack paid no particular attention 
 to this, but by degrees he found himself wondering what 
 was the cause of the light coming and going as it did. 
 
 " Yes, and it increases in brilliancy ! " 
 
 Jack forgot for the moment his meditated vengeance. 
 Presently he saw the light flickering in the same way in 
 another window, higher up on the same side. The truth 
 flashed upon his mind. 
 
 " By heaven, the house is on fire ! " 
 
 Putting spurs to his horse, he galloped furiously to- 
 wards the village to give the alarm, and, as he rode, these 
 words rang in his ears — "Vengeance is mine, saith the 
 Lord!" 
 
 Thus it w'is that our hero arrived upon the scene when 
 he did. He had too much sense to think that a man alone 
 on horseback can unaided put out a fire, therefore he roused 
 
THE RESCUE 
 
 307 
 
 the whole village by his cries of fire. He procured an axe, 
 thinking it might be useful, and galloped to the Hall, telling 
 the villagers to follow. 
 
 Here, with the assistance of the gardener — whom he 
 aroused with difficulty, for drink that day had been plcMitiful 
 — Jack effected an entrance by a low window, just as the 
 flames, curling out of the doorwa)', were scorching Ada's 
 white night-dress and dainty limbs. 
 
 The Hall was now far too full of the dreadful vaporous 
 smoke to remain in it. The fire had been caused by the 
 drunken butler's first upsetting a couple of large cans of 
 paraffin oil in a lamp-closet below the back staircase, and 
 then dropping a lighted match on to the oil on the door. 
 He had made some sort of endeavour to extinguish the 
 flames, and probably had thought he had succeeded, for he 
 had closed the door of the closet and gone quietly to bed 
 in the pantry, leaving the house to burn at its leisure. 
 
 Jack, having wrapped Ada up hastily in a curtain torn 
 from a window, had passed her out to the gardener and 
 another assistant who had just appeared, and the young 
 mistress of the house was conveyed to the gardener's 
 cuttdge. 
 
 But what were the other occupants of the Hall doing all 
 this time ? The two female servants left in the house and 
 Ada's own maid were now awake and screaming out of their 
 windows. They were, for the time at least, completely safe, 
 for, although cut oft' from the rest of the house by the fire, 
 it had some distance to travel before it could reach their 
 apartments. 
 
 It was fortunate that a man of decision in the person of 
 Sir John Treicaven happenca to be on the spot, for the 
 couniry bumpkins never even thought ot getting a ladder to 
 
 . n 
 
 ( " 
 
3o8 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 rescue these poor creatures, which was now soon done 
 under his directions. A messenger was also despatched on 
 Jack's own horse to Penzance for a fire-engine, and Jack 
 himself, having again penetrated into the house and opened 
 the front door, set some men to work to remove what they 
 could of the fine old pictures in the drawing-room and hall ; 
 now becoming, it is true, a work of some danger. 
 
 Meanwhile, what has become of Hemmings and of 
 the butler? The latter, it is as well to state at once, 
 was by this time dead, having perished by suffocation in 
 his bed. 
 
 Richard Hemmings, having finished his unpacking, had 
 sat down in an arm-chair in his dressing-room and taken 
 up a book to dawdle over a bit, as it was still rather early. 
 As he sat he gradually fell into a doze, which must have 
 been caused by the smoke creeping in and affecting him. 
 He woke presently with a start and a painful sensation of 
 suffocation. The place was full of smoke, and he could 
 distinctly hear the roaring and crackling of fire. 
 
 He rushed into Ada's room. Her candles were burning, 
 but she was not th.?re ! In vain he looked in the bed and 
 behind the curtain. In vain he frantically called her name 
 — no answer ! Her room was full of smoke. Where could 
 she be? The wildest ideas rushed through his mind. 
 Good heavens ! could she have deserted him ? Why did 
 she not call him, if she had fled upon finding the house on 
 fire? Had she herself set it on fii^? 
 
 But no ! the poor girl had been frightened — perhaps she 
 had gone to call her maid, intending to return, and had not 
 been able to do so. Seized with this idea he ran out into 
 the corridor, the floor of which was already burning in 
 places. Hurriedly opening the door leading to the back 
 
THE RESCUE 
 
 309 
 
 stairs, he cried loudly, "Ada!" As he did so the flooring 
 beneath him gave way, and he was precipitated into the 
 flames on the burning staircase. But Hemmings was not 
 the man to give up his life without a struggle, and even 
 amidst the burning flames he did not lose his presence 
 of mind. He saw that the banisters, although on fire like 
 everything around him, still looked strong, and, although 
 in the most excruciating agony, he rapidly hauled himself 
 up again by them, hand over hand, and with the most 
 superhuman effort regained the landing. 
 
 He was now dreadfully burned and perfectly naked ; the 
 smoke, too, was suff'ocating him, but he managed to crawl 
 on hands and knees back to his dressing-room. Closing 
 the door, he crept into the arm-chair from which he had 
 lately risen, and awaited his end, which must be as soon as 
 the fire spread. The shutters of his room were closed, and 
 he had no strength to open them. 
 
 The fact of the shutters being closed had prevented his 
 earlier rescue, for Jack neither knew the geography of the 
 house nor where Hemmings was, while none of those who 
 might have told him had their wits about them sufficiently 
 to do so. 
 
 But our hero himself was determined to find out and 
 rescue Hemmings, if he should be still alive. This is how 
 he would be revenged upon his rival ! 
 
 He ran quickly to the gardener's cottage, where he found 
 Ada had just recovered consciousness. 
 
 No time now for greetings. 
 
 "Where did you leave your husband, Ada? Answer, 
 quick ! " 
 
 " Upstairs, first floor," she replied. " Oh, save him, 
 Jack!" 
 
3IO 
 
 ADA TRI SCOTT 
 
 " Which door from the front staircase ? " 
 
 " The second ! " 
 
 " Which way docs the room look — out on the pardon ?** 
 
 " This side — oh, Jack ! for heaven's sake he careful — be 
 careful of yourself I " 
 
 " Good-bye, Ada ! I am going to try to save him, or, 
 at any rate, see what has become of him. Here, you had 
 better give me that curtain !" said Jack, quietly. 
 
 Taking the curtain, he made some of the men throw a 
 bucket of water over it. Then having told the villagers to 
 move the ladder beneath the window indicated, and wrap- 
 ping the curtain round him, Jack once more entered the 
 burning house. 
 
 The main staircase was now on fire ; the whole place 
 intolerably hot and suffocating. Not knowing if he should 
 ever reissue to the free air of heaven, Jack rushed up the 
 staircase and along the burning landing. There was plenty 
 of light tc see which was the second door. He reached it 
 safely, opened it, and found his rival in the pitiable state 
 already described. 
 
 Rushing to the window, Jack unfastened the shutters 
 and threw them open. With difficulty he assisted poor 
 Hemmings across the room to the window. When there, it 
 seemed almost an impossibility to get him out. He was 
 totally unable to help himself. 
 
 "Put the two ladders together side by side," shouted 
 Jack. "Now, one man walk down behind me on one 
 ladder and hold me, one help from the other." 
 
 Then, with a cheer from the spectators below, Jack 
 lifted the crippled commander bodily in his arms, and, by 
 the light of the burning house, carried him safely to the 
 ground, and delivered him over to his bride. 
 
THE RESCUE 
 
 3" 
 
 Thus it was that Sir John Treleaven took his revenge 
 upon his rival. Truly a noble revenge indeed ! 
 
 After rescuing Hemmings from the burning house, J.irk 
 made yet another entry within its walls. He was not one 
 of those heroes who do everything for effect, and for effect 
 alone ; but, as he wished to be useful, he proved himself 
 sensible in all that he did. 
 
 When the unfortunate Hemmings was carried over to 
 the gardener's cottage, wrapped up now in that same curtain 
 that had formed a screen to protect Ada from the night air, 
 and then secondly Jack Treleaven from the flames on the 
 burning staircase, the latter was shocked at finding Ada 
 still in a state of almost complete nudity. It was evident 
 that the resources of the gardener's distracted establishment 
 were not equal to providing the bride with raiment to replace 
 that left within the burning house. 
 
 Jack's blood was up for action ; he determined to 
 recover Ada's clothes, or some of them, at any rate. 
 He might as well, he thought, be doing something as 
 standing idly about. It had already been ascertained, by 
 breaking the pantry window, that the pantry was gutted 
 and the butler dead, and that there was now no other life 
 to be saved. 
 
 Jack, therefore, backed up by the two plucky young 
 Cornishmen, who had aided him in his descent with 
 Hemmings, once more plunged into the dressing-room, and 
 through it into the adjoining bedroom. The fire had not 
 yet penetrated to these apartments, and Jack having opened 
 the windows to let out the smoke, and having seen that the 
 ladders were placed so as to secure a ready retreat, for a 
 moment or two gave himself up to his thoughts as he looked 
 round the room. 
 
 if 
 
 V<\ 
 
Il 
 
 313 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 He had been up to the present unable to account for 
 having found Ada in the hall unscathed, while it was not 
 until some time after that her husband had been found by 
 him so fearfully burnt in his own room. He had first 
 imagined that they had both escaped from their bed upon 
 the alarm of fire, and that perchance fright or terror had led 
 them different ways through the smoke-pervaded mansion. 
 But now a glance at the bed convinced Jack of the fallacy 
 of this idea. For he saw that it had not been occupied ! 
 
 Jack was more than ever puzzled to know how things 
 had come about, and how it was that he had found Ada 
 lying in the hall with his well-remembered crooked sixpence 
 in her hand. However, he did not waste time in any more 
 useless surmises, but commenced handing out all her 
 clothes, which he found neatly folded up on a chair, to 
 his henchmen outside the window. Dress, underlinen, 
 stockings, and shoes, some articles of jewellery, the con- 
 tents of the wardrobe, the articles of the toilet-table, were 
 all successively handed out into the possession of the rough 
 villagers ; then followed the blankets and mattress of the 
 bed, which, together with some of his owu things, were sent 
 over for the use of the injured man. 
 
 When eventually he was driven out by the incursion of 
 the flames. Jack had the satisfaction of knowing that, thanks 
 to him, there were very few articles of Ada's of which she 
 would suffer the loss. Acting on his hint, the villagers had 
 also managed to recover the maid-servants' clothing and 
 save some furniture, so that when the dawn broke, which 
 was just about the time when the engines arrived, it did not 
 break, as is so often the case after a fire, upon some half- 
 dozen shivering naked people, but upon those who, if 
 deprived of their night's rest, had at least decent covering 
 
THE RESCUE 
 
 313 
 
 left to them in which to face the daylight and the gaze of 
 the sympathibing onlookers. 
 
 But, alas ! for Penallyn Hall I By eight o'clock on the 
 summer morn, nothing but bare smouldering walls remained 
 to show thai it had once existed filled with happy human 
 life. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 THE DEATH OF HEMMINGS. 
 
 
 ^^^BhE injuries that Captain Hemmings had re- 
 ceived in his fall through the burning staircase 
 were discovered to be of a very serious nature. 
 He was in the greatest agony, and it was 
 with much difficulty that he was removed from the 
 gardener's cottage to the Manor Farm. Here he lay for 
 several days, tossing and moaning in his pain, which was 
 so great as to deprive him of all power of consecutive 
 utterance. It was dreadful to see the recently young 
 strong man in this dire condition ! 
 
 When able to speak at all, it was but to utter a bitter 
 ejacu' "lory curse that he opened his lips. He was aware 
 of Ada's safety firom the first, as she never left his side, but 
 he hardly seemed to notice her presence, or to care whether 
 she came or stayed. Treleaven's name he uttered several 
 times. 
 
 At *irst those standing round, knowing how his life had 
 been saved by the young baronet at the risk of his own, 
 imagined that he wished to see him, and sent for Jack to 
 the sick-room. But, the moment he made his appearance, 
 Hemmings glared at him so horribly, at the same time 
 cursing him, if spasmodically, yet so bitterly, that it was 
 evident that his feelings towards him were anythirg but 
 
had 
 own, 
 ck to 
 ance, 
 
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THE DEATH OF HEM MINGS 
 
 315 
 
 those of gratitude for his rescue. In point of fact, this man 
 in his agony was in a state of mind which, if it could not be 
 characterised as insane, bordered on the delirious. 
 
 In this disordered state of mind he somehow connected 
 his wife's absence from the room, when he had gone in 
 search of her, with Sir John Treleaven's appearance upon 
 the scene. Again, he felt that he owed him a grudge 
 rather than a blessing for having saved his life, for other- 
 wise he might have been long ago out of his agony. He 
 had indeed been almost in a stupor at the time Jack d's- 
 covered him and saved him. Had he not then been 
 dragged back to life, he might have died shortly of suffoca- 
 tion without suffering much pain. Whereas now, he was 
 living indeed, but while he lived he was suffering the 
 tortures of the damned. All this passed through the 
 miserable man's mind, and, in his agony of mind and 
 body, he cursed the man who he felt was but waiting 
 for his death to step into his shoes. 
 
 " But," he thought, inwardly, " in this at least he shall 
 be disappointed ; I shall live to spite him yet. Yes, live ! 
 although it may be as a perpetual cripple dragging out a 
 wretched existence ! " 
 
 Then again he thought: "Even if I die, I will make 
 Ada swear solemnly before my death that she will never 
 marry Treleaven." 
 
 Even in his agony he laughed to think that thus that 
 which he had never enjoyed himself, from which by a 
 bitter fate he was being snatched away, should at least not 
 be enjoyed by another. No ! not if that other were a man 
 whom he had injured — ay, so deeply injured ! — but who in 
 return had revenged himself by saving his life. 
 
 Such were the thoughts that flitted wildly through the 
 
 
3i6 
 
 ADA TR I SCOTT 
 
 dying man's brain ; for such he was. altiioii,G;h he knew it 
 not at first. But it was different with Hemniings afctr a 
 iQ'ii days. His awful pain subsided,, and with its partial 
 disappearance, as he felt his strength sinkihg, came a 
 happier, less vindictive state of mind. He was able, though 
 weak, to speak collectedly, and learned from Ada all the 
 history of the fire, from the time of her first descent of the 
 stairs. The explanation of Jack's ai)pearance upon the 
 scene was also given him — viz., that he was riding h ^me 
 lale to Manwinnion, when he had perceived Penallyn Hall 
 to be on fire; and, having alarmed the village, he had 
 immediately hastened to the scene of the conflagration 
 himself, with what results the reade*" knows. 
 
 Hemmings, determined to know the worst, now forced 
 from the doctor the confession that he was a dying man, 
 although it was possible he might live for a day or two yet. 
 He had thought as much himself, from the almost total 
 subsidence of the pain. He now turned his mind towards 
 religion. Like many another who has scarcely given the 
 subject a thought when in health and strength, he found it 
 still offered some hope to the dying sinner. 
 
 Ada was most anxious he should receive the sacrament ; 
 but, although he at first shrank from a rite which had been 
 for years to him little more than a name, her gentle words 
 and entreaties determined him to see the clergyman of the 
 parish, and ask him if he considered him worthy. Freely 
 confessing his life had been far from regular, and expressing 
 a wish to die, if possible, reconciled with his Maker, Hem- 
 mings humbly asked the clergyman's advice about receiving 
 the sacrament. 
 
 The latter, a conscientious man, asked : 
 
 "Are you in charity with all men, or have yr*' wronged 
 
THE DEATH OF HEM MINGS 
 
 317 
 
 It; 
 ;en 
 Irds 
 
 the 
 ely 
 Pg 
 
 ling 
 
 red 
 
 any man willingly ? If so, and if you feel inclined, as is 
 your bounden duty in such a solemn season, to repair your 
 fault as far as in you lies, I think that, with a clear con- 
 science, both you may receive and I may administer the 
 Holy Sacrament, to be received by you as a token of divine 
 mercy." 
 
 When .a man is dying, and he knows not how soon he 
 may be called on to face an Almighty Judge, that which is 
 black in his life appears blacker still. Hemmings now 
 thought on and bitterly repented of his conduct to Laura 
 Luscombe and to Jack Treleaven. He sent for the latter, 
 and, in the presence of William Triscott, humbly acknow- 
 ledged his wrongful behaviour, and thanked Jack for his 
 noble forbearance in never disclosing his treachery. He 
 also sent a dying message to crave Laura's forgiveness for 
 the way in which he had wronged and left her. This 
 message Jack solemnly swo^e to deliver. Hemmings only 
 asked one thing of William Triscott, which was, not to tell 
 
 Ada, while he was yet alive, what a scoundrel she had 
 
 married. 
 
 "She shall never know," said Jack, answering for 
 
 Mr. Triscoit, and speaking gently to the dying man. " Be 
 
 quite at ease." 
 
 "No," said William Triscott, echoing Jack's words, 
 
 " she shall never know ; but she shall know that Jack 
 
 is, what I always thought him, a true English gentleman. 
 
 Hemmings, my poor fellow, we both pity and forgive 
 
 you." 
 
 As Jack turned to leave the room, William Triscott 
 
 followed him. Outside, the elder man took him by the 
 
 hand, and the tears were s'anding in his eyes as he spoke. 
 "Jack, my dear boy, }ou are a noble fellow! Thank 
 
 
i. 
 
 318 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 (jod that that poor dying man has done you justice at last. 
 Not only have you shown pliysical bravery, but you have 
 indeed shown true honour and moral courage as well. I 
 always liked you, Jack — I now love you as if you were 
 my own son." 
 
 And he wrung his hand and turned away, too much 
 moved to utter another word. 
 
 That evening Richard Hemmings received the sacra- 
 ment. Assured as he was of Jack's full forgiveness, he now 
 felt happier in his mind. He sank gradually, and constantly 
 asked for Ada, who never left his side, but whose form he 
 could not distinguish in the gathering darkness of death. 
 It was evident now, in his dying moments, from the grief 
 he showed at parting with his fair young wife, that he 
 indeed loved her with his whole heart. 
 
 He died at noon on the morrow, his hand clasped in 
 hers ; and Ada, who had been a wife but in name, was left 
 a widow at nineteen, only ten days after her marriage. 
 
 ! ' 
 
CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 PASSION AND TEMPTATION — WliAKNESS AND STRENGTH. 
 
 Nor when around her gently-curving frame, 
 
 Their palms disjoined, a gentle arm was curved. 
 More than soft-footed fawn that bath grown tame 
 
 Starts at a human voice, shrank she or swerved ; 
 And when her face burst suddenly aflame. 
 
 His shoulder for a screening pillow served, 
 Whereon she leaned her sorrow-drooping head* ' 
 
 Passive as though it were her bier or bed. 
 
 Alfred Austin. 
 
 gHERE had been an inquest held upon the 
 charred remains of the unfortunate butler; 
 and Jack had been, for the second time in 
 about three weeks, a witness before a coroner's 
 jury. It seemed impossible for him to hide his light under 
 a bushel. The coroner, who was the same that had held 
 the inquest on the remains of poor Fox, made some re- 
 marks most complimentary to our hero, while the jury added 
 to their verdict of accidental death, a rider to the effect : 
 " That, if it had not been for the prompt and gallant action 
 of Sir JohnTreleaven, there would have been, in all pro- 
 bability, much greater loss of life." 
 
 All this was of course reported in the Plymouth papers, 
 and, through the medium of the Western Morning NewSy 
 the public were once more informed what a brave young 
 man, in the opinion of that luminary, was Sir John 
 Treleaven, Bart. 
 
320 
 
 ADA TR J SCOTT 
 
 Jack returned to his regiment to find himself a hero. 
 His brother-officers were proud that one of their number 
 should twice, in such a short lime, have distinguished him- 
 self by means of his personal courage, thereby reflecting 
 credit on his corps. They paid him a coinpliment very rarely 
 shown to an officer, unless when joining or leaving a regi- 
 ment : they asked him to dinner. Tnat is to say, that Jack 
 dined at his own mess-table for one night without paying 
 for what he consumed, either in the way of solids or liquids. 
 He also had his health drunk with all the honours, after it 
 had been proposed and seconds^^d in neat spccoiies by the 
 colonel and senior major respectively. 
 
 Altogether, it was a great night in the mess of the — th. 
 After the senior officers had retired, it became a greater 
 night still. Old "Bung" for once had deserted his MolLo 
 to dine at mess, and drank such liberal potations to his 
 chum's health, as to earn him his first and, let us hope, his 
 last curtain lecture on his return. He owned his faults, 
 but said he would have been all right if he had not finished 
 up with just one more " go " of whisky. Now the reader 
 knows well that that liquid ahcniys disagreed with Captain 
 Lifton. 
 
 Everybody enjoyed the evening vastly but Jack himself. 
 He was delighted when at last able at an early hour in the 
 morning, by a desperate effort, to make his escape from the 
 shoulders of his younger comrades, who hid already carried 
 him six or seven times up and down the whole length of 
 the verandah in front of the barracks, with many a merry 
 whoop and yell as they went. 
 
 On the disappearance of the real hero, these gay lads 
 were not to be baulked of their sport, and the first passing 
 trams found them busily engaged in "reselling one another 
 
PASSION AND TEMPT \TION 
 
 321 
 
 liero. 
 
 Vum- 
 -cling 
 rarely 
 aregi- 
 t Jack 
 paying 
 iquids. 
 after it 
 
 by the 
 
 le — th. 
 greater 
 
 s Mollo 
 
 Is to his 
 ope, his 
 faults, 
 finished 
 e reader 
 Captain 
 
 ; himself, 
 ur in the 
 from the 
 ^y carried 
 [length of 
 a merry 
 
 gay lads 
 |st passing 
 le another 
 
 from the flames of Penallyn Hall," that is to say, from an 
 enormous bonfire constructed on the verandah from all the 
 newspapers and current literature to be found in the mess 
 and adjoining rooms. 
 
 The last scene of all which ended this strange, eventful 
 night, or rather morning, was entitled the "drowning of 
 Fox." One of the last joined subalterns, a by no means 
 popular young gentleman, retained next day such a lively 
 recollection of Fox's sad end that he sent in at once an 
 application to be alK wed to exchange. But the others 
 said, contemptuously, that he was a lad of no spirit, or 
 he must have thoroughly enjoyed dying a watery death for 
 the j^ood of his country and the amusement of his brother 
 officers. Next morning Jack received a note from Nellie 
 Watson : 
 
 "Dear old Jack, 
 
 "So you've been at it again, saving lives right and 
 
 left. But I hear that even in spile of your chivalrous efforts 
 
 you Wire not able to save Captain Hemmings from his 
 
 well-merited end. I know very well the old Latin proverb 
 
 of De mortuis nil nisi bonum^ but in this case I cannot agree 
 
 with it. I am indeed sorry that he met his fate in such 
 
 a terrible way, but on the whole I'm glad the man's dead, 
 
 chiefly for your sake, and, f s I am glad, I say so. 
 
 "Will you come up to my aunt's to lunch to-day, 
 
 and we'll go for a walk in the country together — say 
 
 Plym Bridge? 
 
 '* Yours. 
 
 "Nellie." 
 Jack went to old Miss Watson's to luncheon, after 
 
Jp^ 
 
 fl i 
 
 II' ' { 
 
 322 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 which he and Nellie went out together by train to the 
 pretty little village of Plympton. They walked from there 
 to Plym Bridge, which gave them a stroll through about 
 three miles of one of the prettiest lanes in Devonshire, and 
 one by which they could return by a different way along 
 the banks of the Plym. 
 
 They had reached the summit of the hill, and, at a spot 
 where there was nothing in front to obstruct their view, 
 they leaned against a gate, and for a minute watched in 
 silence the glorious panorama. To our mind, the prettiest 
 view to be had anywhere in the neighbourhood of the 
 "three towns," is the exact spot where they were now 
 standing. 
 
 Nellie broke the silence. 
 
 " Look, Jack, at our dear old Plymouth ! there's the 
 citadel, and there's Mount Batten. How lovely the water 
 looks, and the woods at Saltram ! I think, looking from 
 this spot, we may well say, * Breathes there the man with 
 soul so dead,' etc., and believe every word we say too. 
 You've got nothing like this in your stupid old Cornwall." 
 
 "No, because we haven't got you there, Nellie. Now 
 don't you know you wanted me to say that ? " said he, 
 warding off a blow from the handle of her umbrella, and 
 laughing as he spoke. " Well, you know, it would be very 
 jolly," he continued, " to have you down in Cornwall a bit, 
 and show you the rounds in the neighbourhood of my farm. 
 Not, I'll own, that I can show you anything like this ; but 
 I can show you little rocky glens with little touches of 
 rough scenery, that would be quite novelties for you in the 
 way of ' studies.' What do you say ? Will you come ? " 
 
 " Don't be a fool. Jack." This was said witheringly. 
 " We aren't quite so bad as all that, I hope, whatever they 
 
PASSION AND TEMPTATION 
 
 m 
 
 may say about us ! By-the-bye, would you like to know 
 what Mrs. Mansfield says of you now? Nothing less than 
 that you set Pcnallyn Hall on fire yourself, and purposely 
 didn't attempt to save Captain Heinmings until you knew 
 ii would be no use ; and she ends up the whole story by 
 saying it was all an understood thing between yourself and 
 Ada, who got downstairs at the proper time. I believe she 
 says you are to be married to her in six months' time — that 
 you settled it the night of the fire." 
 
 " What an infamous story I " said Jack, wrathfully. *' It 
 is a fortunate thing I can afford to laugh at it. How can 
 a woman deliberately invent such a tissue of lies?" 
 
 " She 13 enraged, now you are a baronet, that she didn't 
 succeed in catching you for her daughter. You know you 
 did pay Blanche some attention once, and, ever since you 
 dropped her for Ada, mother and daughter have both hated 
 you. They hate me too, because they say I am setting my 
 cap at you, and mean to marry you myself. Blanche had 
 the cheek to say something of the sort to me the other day, 
 but I told her there was no such luck for me ;" and Nellie 
 heaved a little sigh, half comical, half serious, and turned 
 away once more to look at the view. 
 
 " You marry me," said Jack, laughing ; " what a funny 
 idea ! Why, I should be afraid of catching it too hot if I 
 asked you, Nellie. But come 1 you once made me practise 
 proposing to you, let's hear in what style you would refuse 
 me. I hope you would let me down easy, for the sake of old 
 acquaintance. Now, look me in the face and begin. 
 You've seen enough of the view I You must be tired of the 
 Catte water, surely ! " 
 
 *' No, I always look away when I am refusing a person 
 — I make a point of it. The face of Nature is not likely to 
 
 >4 
 
L ' m « IM- 
 
 smaamtam 
 
 324 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 change under sum circuuistances, but a man is sometimes 
 apt to change liis face very much, and to assume an ex- 
 pression as if he was going to bite ; " and Nellie looked 
 away more resolutely than ever. 
 
 " But I don't hear the refusal, Nellie ! " 
 
 " And I don't he^r the proposal, Jack ! " 
 
 "Oh, you had that last year at Shaugh Bridge, you 
 know — I asked you if you loved me, and all sorts of 
 thmgs." 
 
 " Ah, well, you shall have my answer next time we are 
 there. In the meantime, I love you too mu''h to refuse 
 you anything. Lovely view, isn't it ?" 
 
 " Bother t:he view ! I'm waiting to know what your 
 answer would be ! " 
 
 Poor Nellie's bosom was heaving and falling like a 
 rolling sea, as she pressed her throbbing heart against the 
 gate and tried to feel as if it all was the "chafif" to her that 
 Jack imagined it to be. 
 
 "Well, come. Jack ; are you serious ? You shouldn't 
 trifle with a young thing's affe -tions in that way. How do 
 you know that I am not at this very minute breaking my 
 heart about you ? Breaking it here against this very gate- 
 post ! " 
 
 "I'm not afraid of that, Nellie," said the young baronet, 
 gaily ; " you've known me and my weaknesses too long to 
 dream of doing that for me. Now the answer, please ; and 
 be gentle with me, I implore you, for I am a very fragile 
 plant and one that might perish at a breath. But perhaps 
 you have nc breath left after mounting the hill, so I'm 
 safe." 
 
 " I've forgotton what the question was. Oh, dear, it's 
 so long ago since it was asked me. If you please, sir, v^hat 
 
PASSION AND TEMPTATION 
 
 32s 
 
 mes 
 ex- 
 
 :>ked 
 
 , you 
 rts of 
 
 ve are 
 refuse 
 
 t your 
 
 like a 
 nst the 
 ler that 
 
 Ibaronet, 
 long to 
 ^se; and 
 fy fragile 
 perhaps 
 , so Vott 
 
 dear, it's 
 sir, %hat 
 
 was it you wished to know? " she asked, turning round and 
 making a little bob cunsy. " I've such a bad memory." 
 
 " The question was : Will you be my wife ? The ques- 
 tion is, how will that question be answered ? " and he looked 
 carelessly up from the gate into her face. 
 
 " Well, now, at any rate, I am on the safe side, Mr. 
 Jack— beg pardon, Sir John. I wasn't going to give you 
 the opportunity of saying, * Nobody asked you, my pretty 
 maid,' much as you have tried to get it. Well, the fact 
 now remains that, at," pulling out her watch, " ten minutes 
 prist four on the twenty-second of July, I have received 
 what I have been fishing for for the last year, namely, an 
 invitation to marry one Sir John Treleaven. If I had had 
 my pocket-book, I should have made a note of it. Oh," 
 scribbling, ** my cuff will do very well. But isn't it a lovely 
 view, Jack ? — and so, when I'm your wife — didn't you say 
 something about my being your wife just now? And so, 
 when I'm your wife, if I'm 5 good little girl, you'll take 
 me about and show me pretty views, will you ? Studies, 
 eh?" 
 
 *' Yes, of cou» JI-, Nellie," he replied ; " as many as you 
 like." 
 
 " Well, I'm afraid that they will partake very much of 
 the nature of dissolving views, to which distance will lend 
 its greatest enchantment, for you know you'll never give 
 me such a treat." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I will though, and give you lots of new sugar- 
 plums and gingerbread nuts into the bargain. Is it settled, 
 then?" 
 
 " Is what settled ? " 
 
 "Why, that you will marry me?** 
 
 " Who's talking about marrying ? I thought we were 
 
326 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 :J \ 
 
 
 ' '. i \ 
 
 
 / i ,1 
 
 talking about views. Lovely, isn't it?" s&id she, waving 
 her hand as before in the direction of the Cattewater. 
 
 " Oh, Nellie, what a plague you are ! " said Jack, 
 laughing. " You'd baffle anybody. But what a good- 
 looking plague you are, too ; " for there was a strange, 
 animated look in Nellie's eyes, greatly at variance with the 
 composed expression into which she had schooled her 
 features. This light in her eyes it was that had called forth 
 the unusual compliment from Jack. 
 
 " And so you are determined to refuse me, are you ? " 
 he said, a little pettishly. " You won't give me any 
 answer?" 
 
 Jack was beginning to think that be had asked Nellie to 
 be his wife in earnest. Such is the result of opposition. 
 
 ^* Now, look here, Jack, you're talking nonsense, and 
 you know it. You don't really want me to be your wife in 
 the least, so what is the good of trying to get an imaginary 
 answer from me in answer to a foolish question from you? 
 Chaff is all very well ; but when I've made up my mind to 
 a thing, even in chaff, it's hard to get me to change it. 
 Now, don't make faces. Did il want its own way, then ? 
 poor thing ! " «;aid she, mocking him. " Well, then, I 
 won't be so cruel as to keep you in suspense any longer. 
 We'll walk up to Plym Bridge, and have a look at the 
 water ; perhaps by that time I shall be able to make up 
 my mind, and we can work the subject out there, sitting 
 on the parapet. Jack, give me your arm ; I've got the 
 ' shakes,' " said she, as soon as they had just started off 
 afresh. 
 
 She clung on to him, for she was trembling from head 
 to foot with a nervous tremor which she was quite unable to 
 master. 
 
■jfiftrMfh-jag 
 
 PASSION AND TEMPTATION 
 
 327 
 
 " What is the matter, Nellie ? " cried Jack, alarmed. 
 ** Why, my dear child, you'll shake yourself to pieces," said 
 he, putting his arm round her to support her. " Come back 
 to the gate." 
 
 "No," said Nellie, resolutely, " let's walk on. You were 
 right about that view — I have had too much of it — looking 
 at the sky and the water for so long has made me dizzy, 
 and given me the ' shakes * like this. How absurd I must 
 look!" 
 
 But Nellie did not look at all absurd to Jack. It was 
 the first time he had ever had that strong-minded, able- 
 bodied young lady so dependent upon him, and he did not 
 quite understand it, nor how looking at a view — boring 
 though it might be — could give anybody the shakes. 
 
 Poor Nellie ! she had gone through more than enough 
 to give her the shakes ten times over. 
 
 " Now, come. Jack, drop that ; that'll do ! " said she, 
 after a few minutes, removing his arm suddenly from her 
 waist. " We can't do the Emma and Jack Spriggs business 
 any further along this road. We shall be at the bridge 
 directly. I'm better now. Ah ! there's Mrs. Roberts' 
 cottage. If you'll just go in and ask her to get some tea 
 ready for us presently, I'll stroll on and wait for you." 
 
 " Shall we carry the tea out into the woods, and drink 
 it there ? " s?id Jack. 
 
 "No," said Nellie, "I think we'll do all our rambling 
 first, and then come back and have our tea comfortably, 
 after which we'll stroll down the little quz-:*-. railway to 
 Marsh Mills Station." 
 
 On rejoining Nellie, Jack found her comfortably seated 
 on the broad low parapet of Plym Bridge, looking at the 
 crystal water dashing from under its arches into the large 
 
328 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 I 
 
 f: 
 
 i 
 
 pool below, where the little speckled trout wee eagerly 
 rising and snapping at the flies. . 
 
 Plym Bridge and its surrounding wooded beauties are 
 too well known to the country-loving inhabitants of the 
 "three towis" to need any descri[jt:on htre, while for 
 others no description of the hundred sylvan nooks, or the 
 pellucid depths of the sparkling stream, could be adequately 
 given on paper. It is a lovely spot. 
 
 Jack and Nellie having left the bridge and plunged 
 into the moss-covered woods, presently made themselves 
 very comfortable by the banks of the stream. 
 
 Jack was gradually overcome by the witchery of the 
 moment. The balmy summer air, the gentle breeze from 
 the river, all together conspired to make him for once 
 forget Ada ; and as he gazed upon his fair companion, 
 suddenly there sprang through him a sentiment of momcjn- 
 tary passion, far different from any feeling with which that 
 companion had ever inspired him before. 
 
 " Nellie," said he, presently, " may I take your hand ? " 
 suiting the action to the word. 
 
 " Yes, if you like," she replied. " VViiat do you want it 
 for?" 
 
 But, when once he had obtained possession of the little 
 gloveless hand, Nellie, who had thought perhaps he wanted 
 to look at her rings, noticed that he did nothing of the sort, 
 but simply held it within his own, with a gentle and slightly 
 tightening pressure which sent a thrill that ran like fire 
 through her veins. She knew that Jack had never held her 
 hand like that before. She knew that touch had a vastly 
 different meaning to what it would have had when half an 
 hour ago they hid been togel-her leaning over the gate. 
 
 For once Nellie felt shy and Irightened. She stole a 
 
PASSION AND TEMPTATION 
 
 329 
 
 look at his face. His eyes met hers, and she read there a 
 reflection of the passion burning within her own. 
 
 "Jack, don't ! " she said, feebly ; and tried to withdraw 
 her hand. Futile endeavour ! It only lay the closer in his 
 fingers — closer locked, pulses wildly beating together. There 
 was no withdrawal now. 
 
 " Nellie," he said, '• come closer to me." And, drawing 
 her to him, he wound his arms closely round about her. 
 She could not resist — with an inarticulate murmur, her head 
 fell upon his breast. 
 
 He knew not what he was doing — he only knew that he 
 was quite alone with a beautiful girl, that her soft hair 
 brushed his cheek, that her heart beat fast on his, and for 
 the first time it madly flashed across his now wild and 
 disordered brain that he loved her, and — that she too was 
 completely his. 
 
 Flown was all allegiance to Ada ! No thought had 
 he for aught save the rapture of the moment, and Nellie — ■ 
 of beautiful, independent Nellie by his side and willingly 
 yielding to his caresses. He lifted her face to his, and, 
 laying her arms about his neck, kissed her madly on the 
 forehead, face, and lips ; and she — yes, she, with all the 
 ardour of a long-restrained and devouring passion, returned 
 his own ardent embrace. 
 
 Oh, Nellie ! how art thou fallen ! and where now is 
 thy sisterly love, thy self-abnegation ? Oh, Jack, alas ! 
 alas, for thy fidelity and honour ! 
 
 " Nellie," he whispered, " will you give me the answer 
 to the question now? Are you mine? Ycu must be mine 
 — you shall be mine ! " 
 
 For a moment she lay passive in his arms, no answer 
 was needed ; for was she not his alone ? And the babbling 
 
 I «., 
 
330 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 of the stream and the cooing of the wood-dove alone was 
 heard amid those sylvan shades ! But then — pushing him 
 away with a violent effort, and springing to her feet at the 
 same time, with a sudden and complete revulsion of feeling, 
 she clasped her hands over her eyes and cried, in a broken 
 voice : 
 
 " Oh, Jack ! Jack ! I am ashamed of myself. How 
 could I ever let you kiss me like that ? ** 
 
 And Nellie burst into a wild paroxysm of tears and sobs. 
 Then, turning upon Jack in fierce anger, and stamping her 
 foot, she asked, with flashmg eyes : 
 
 " How dared you treat me so ? What have I ever done 
 to you that you should have caused me thus to lose my 
 self-respect ? But it was my own fault ; I ought to have 
 known, from whaf- I have seen of your character, that you 
 were not above taking advantage of being alone with a 
 woman. Yes, I — oh, Jack ! I didn't expect this of you — 
 no ! nor of myself." 
 
 Jack stood there utterly overcome with the sickening 
 thought of his own guiltiness, infidelity, and frailty ; but he 
 still thought he really loved her, and so cried : 
 
 " Nellie, can you forgive me ? On my honour, I didn't 
 mean to make you lose your self-respect ; but I really love 
 you — indeed I do ! Will you be my wife ? " 
 
 **Jack," said Nellie, speaking tearfully, but solemnly, 
 " I will forgive you, but I can never forget — I can never 
 forgive myself." She paused a moment, and then con- 
 tinued : " You have asked me to be your wife, but only out 
 of pity. You could not, moreover, think me worthy. I 
 know / should be sorry to marry any woman who could 
 make such a miserable fool of herself with a man. But, 
 Jack, I will not be \our wife, when you love another woman. 
 
-'.:jt..r*^. 
 
 . rf'W-rK»I^ 
 
 PASS/ON AND TEMPI ATION 
 
 331 
 
 Could I wilfully allow you to sacrifice yourself, knowing as 
 I do that such is the case ? After my late exhibition, I 
 almost think myself weak enough for anything, it is true; 
 but not for that — no, no ! I felt like selfishly saying yes, just 
 now; but I ara once more in my sober senses, and thank 
 God for it. J. have loved, and do love you, Jack, and my 
 wild passion, jurt for those few minutes, got the better of 
 me. I can only make that miserable excuse for my conduct. 
 And Ada — poor Ada, whom you have loved so long and so 
 truly — for whose sake you behaved so honourably. Ada> 
 whom you have saved at the risk of your own life from a 
 dreadful death. Ada, fresh, young, beautiful, good. What 
 would she think of me ? Oh, I have been too horribly 
 foolish and unmaidenly." 
 
 And Nellie, the strong no longer, wept and wrung her 
 hands in despair. 
 
 Jack was almost distracted. He seized both her hands, 
 and, with real shame and sorrow, implored her once more to 
 pardon him. 
 
 " My dear, dear girl, pray don't say such terrible things. 
 I know how wrong I was to embrace you so ; but forgive 
 me and be my wite, and let us never think of or refer to this 
 day again. If you will only forgive me now, I shall love 
 you always, better than any woman on earth;" and Jack felt 
 as if he meant every word he said. 
 
 His words seemed to calm Nellie. 
 
 "Jack," she said, earnestly, "I know you better than 
 you know yourself. What saves me now from allowing you 
 to sacrifice your whole life to me, is that I have remembered 
 in time that you do not — cannot really love me. You love 
 Ada, and Ada alone. Ask }our inmost^ your true heart, if 
 you could give her up, now ihat she is once more free. 
 
332 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 What would you do in after years if, married to me, you 
 met her, and feeling, as you would, that you loved her still, 
 you remembered that you had, of your own free will, and 
 for a mere passing fancy, a sudden passion, thrown away 
 this second chance of making her your partner for life? 
 You would hate me, too, for being the cause of your separa- 
 tion from her," Nellie continued, with a faint smile. " Now, 
 Jack, I can only forgive you on one condition for thus 
 taking advantage of a jjoor woman's weakness. That con- 
 dition is, that you never speak to me of marriage again, 
 unless, indeed, it be of your marriage with Ada. Come, 
 now, give me your hand. Friends evr^-, Jack, eh?" 
 
 He was deeply moved as lie took her hand. 
 
 "Friends ever, NelliL," he replied, "through life — 
 through death. I see you are right — yes, when you speak 
 about Ada as you hr^ve just done, I see you are right, and 
 I have been very wrong." 
 
 " Yes, Jack," she said, looking up at him, the tears still 
 on her burning cheeks, but with the happy expression 
 stealing through her eyes of a victory won over self. " I 
 consider, you know, that I have saved Ada for you, and so 
 I have the right to remind you of your allegiance. I heard 
 from her yesterday, and she tells me that had she not gone 
 downstairs for your old crooked sixpence, which I gave her 
 as a talisman on her wedding-day, she would infallibly have 
 been burned in her bed. And so, you see, if I had not 
 impressed its importance upon her, she would have lost her 
 life. Fortunate for her that I did so. * 
 
 They had walked back through the leafy wood, and out 
 again into the golden sunlight of the summer's afternoon, 
 and were now back ar the cottage. 
 
 *' Do I look as if I had been crying, and generally 
 
 
PAS : ION AND TEMPTATION 
 
 333 
 
 le, you 
 
 er still, 
 
 ill, and 
 
 n away 
 
 or life? 
 
 separa- 
 
 "Now, 
 
 or thus 
 
 lat con- 
 
 2 again, 
 
 Come, 
 
 \i life— 
 >u speak 
 |ght, and 
 
 ;ars still 
 Ipression 
 
 jlf. " I 
 I, and so 
 I heard 
 lot gone 
 ;ave her 
 )ly have 
 lad not 
 llost her 
 
 md out 
 lernoon, 
 
 inerally 
 
 making a fool of myself?" she asked. "Ah, well, what 
 does it matter? I dare say old mother Roberts won't 
 mind. Come along, we'h have our tea, and I dare say we 
 shall both feel the better for it." 
 
 They did have their tea, and did both feel the better 
 for it, as they walked quietly back to Marsh Mills Station, 
 each inwardly thinking that this was the last country walk 
 they should ever take together, and yet each acknowledging 
 that it would be better so. 
 
 But when eventually Jack said good-bye to Nellie in 
 the hall at her aunt's house at Plymouth, it was his turn to 
 break down. It was with a very choking voice that he was 
 bidding her farewell, with the sad consciousness that the 
 old brotherly and sisterly feehng was now gone — at an end 
 for ever. 
 
 " Pray for me, Nellie," he said, " for you are a good 
 woman ; but I shall execrate myself all my life for what has 
 occurred to-day, and for the future separation it will entail 
 between us.** 
 
 " I will pray for you, dear Jack, that you may be happy ; 
 but, wrong as it may seem to say so, I shall never execrate 
 the memory of to-day. I have had a lesson in my own 
 weakness which I shall never forget, and which will help 
 me for the future to con([uer my pride, and put less trust in 
 my own strength. And, Jack, I have been supremely 
 happy for a few moments, from the sweetest delusion I 
 have ever yet experienced — the delusion that you really 
 loved me. Ah, well ! Good-bye, Jack. It's all u. p. 
 between us — but, God knows, I don't, and never shall, 
 grudge you the happiness I know awaits you with Ada. If 
 I were you, I should let Mrs. Mansfield prove to be in the 
 ri^ht for once, and marry her at the end of six months. 
 
w 
 
 334 
 
 ADA TRI SCOTT 
 
 She did not care a pin about that man. Why should she 
 wait ? I suppose you and I had better not see one another 
 again just at present. Ta ta, old man ! " 
 
 And these apparently flippant words were the last Jack 
 ever heard from Nellie Watson, 
 
CHAPTER XL. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 UR Story has drawn to its ck^se. Nellie Watsoti 
 has proved a true prophetess, and there was 
 now no further difficulty standing in the way 
 to prevent Jack's union with Ada. 
 Nellie, noble woman that she was, had voluntarily given 
 up that which she valued most in the world tor what she 
 knew would be his real happiness ; for, as she had said, 
 she could read him better than he could himself, and he 
 did indeed love Ada best. 
 
 We ask our readers not to be hard upon our hero for 
 giving way to the momentary weakness described in the 
 last chapter; but to remember his youth, and not only the 
 great temptation, but the manner of the temptation, and to 
 be merciful to him. We would willingly have concealed 
 this episode in the lives of Nellie Watson and Jack 
 Treleaven, but it has not been our object to present them 
 to the public as a couple of immaculate saints, but exactly 
 as they were. Nevertheless, in our humble opinion, when 
 the muster-roll of the saints is called, Nellie Watson's name 
 will in no wise figure towards the end of the list ; and if 
 she does not manage to put in a word for Jack no one will, 
 and he will have to rely solely upon his previous " long 
 
K-m 
 
 336 
 
 ADA TRISCOIT 
 
 service and good conduct/' to employ military parlance, if 
 he wishes his name to figure in the same roll as hers. 
 
 Whether this is likely to secure him the coveted place 
 or no, a reference to his former history, as detailed in 
 these pages, may be some criterion to his well-wishers. 
 
 Ada was never told of the scoundrelly manner in which 
 her husband had behaved, but she found it out, and found 
 it out as follows : 
 
 Her uncle, true to his word that his niece should know 
 that Jack had behaved like a true man, had taken an early 
 opportunity of speaking to her about his favourite. He 
 said : " That he knew that there had been rumours depre- 
 ciatory of Sir John "i releaven, and he was also aware, from 
 a recent communication that had been made to him, that 
 these rumours were entirely false; and that not only was 
 Jack spotless as the day, but that he had also behaved with 
 true nobility, in himself suffering unmerited obloquy to 
 save another man's name." 
 
 Ada, delighted as she was to hear her uncle speak thus 
 of Jack, was not satisfied with mere generalities. Like any 
 other woman placed in similar circumstances, she was 
 determined to have particulars. However, as her uncle 
 did not seem inclined to give her any, she seemed likely to 
 know no more. As a dernier ressort^ she asked her uncle a 
 question. 
 
 " Well, but, dear Uncle William, tell me, at least, who 
 was the informant that put Sir John Treleaven before you 
 in his right light ? That man or woman deserves all our 
 best thanks. And we — what apologies we owe poor Jack " 
 (the name slipped out unawares) " for having mistrusted 
 him so long." 
 
 William I'liscott thought he could do no harm in 
 
COA'Cli/S/ON 
 
 S37 
 
 revealing the dead man's name as the nnn from whom he 
 had learnt the truth about Jack. He was not, like the 
 reader, thoroughly acquainted with all the events of this 
 past history, or he would never have given the information. 
 
 ** Your poor husband was my informant, my dear Ada. 
 He told me the day before he died that facts had come to 
 his knowledge which were, to him at least, undoubted 
 proofs that not Jack, but some other man, had been to 
 blame in that matter about the young woman at the 
 mill." 
 
 " My husband," said Ada, with a gasp, ** Richard ? Ah, 
 yes, perhaps he ought to have known. Thank you, uncle;" 
 and she \eh him. 
 
 It all dawned upon her i )W — Nellie Watson's friendly 
 warning given that day in George Street had, then, been 
 true ! Otherwise how could her husband have known all the 
 circumstances concerning Jack, or, knowing them, how 
 could he have concealed all knowledge previously, and 
 have encouraged the very belief that Jack had indeed 
 behaved as badly as they all imagined? 
 
 It was a groat shock to poor Ada's young and pure mind 
 to find how she had linked her fate for lite to one who had 
 won her by the basest deceit towards the man she really 
 loved. Her cheeks burned with shame for her dead 
 husband, whom until now she had looked upon as an 
 honourable man. Especially shocked was she when she 
 thought of that question of hers in the summer house at 
 Tii tilllan. She had then asked distinctly if Jack were 
 culpable or not ? And Richard Hemmings — knowing that 
 he was telling a downright lie — had averred that he was. 
 Thi^ lie it was which had been the direct cause of her 
 acccp ing him. 
 
338 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 But poor Richard Hemmings was dead now, gone to 
 appear before a more merciful Judge than any he could meet 
 on earth. And so Ada, much as she suffered from her 
 discovery, said for a time nothing which could lead any- 
 body to suppose that she knew of her husband's guilt, or of 
 his connection with Laura Luscombe. But a time came 
 when Jack had become all in all to Ada. Now, without 
 let or hindrance, all her pent-up love for him went out to 
 meet his with the resistless force of the Llu" waters of the 
 Moselle mixing with the sterner tawny volume of the 
 Rhine. 
 
 One day, not very long before the date fixed upon 
 for their marriage, they had had a conversation about 
 business. Jack had been saying, rather indolently, that 
 he supposed it was time to see the lawyers about making 
 setliouients, when Ada, clutching his hand, interrupted hiri 
 and sa'd : 
 
 "Jack, that reminds me — I want to speak to you. 
 You know Captain Hemmings left me all his fortune — 
 a considerable sum ? " 
 
 " No, I didn't," said Jack, frowning. " I never heard 
 a word about it. We don't want his money." 
 
 "No, dear. 1 hat's just exactly it. I won't touch a 
 penny of it — it must gv^ to ^<rr." 
 " To her ? " said Jack. 
 
 ** Yes, Jack, to her, to the woman who ought to have 
 been his wife — to the girl that I saw you with *:hat day 
 at the ' Duke of Cornwall Hotel,'" said Ada, throwing her 
 arms round his neck, and hiding in his bosom the blushes 
 of contrition that mantled in her cheeks as she thought 
 how she had mistrusted her dear Jack upon that occasion. 
 " Ada, you are an angel ! " said Jack. " Yes, it shall 
 
CONCLUSION 
 
 339 
 
 be done as you wish. We shall have to make her think 
 it a legacy, though, or she will be far too proud, poor girl, 
 to touch a penny." 
 
 " Where is she now ? " asked Ada. 
 
 ** Gone abroad with Nellie Watson," said Jack. "When 
 Nellie went abroad, two months ago, she took Laura with 
 her as companion. Nellie has been, or will be, the saving 
 of that girl, who is quite enough of a lady to adapt herself 
 to the habits of those whom she may meet. She is also 
 bound by ties of the deepest gratitude to Nellie. I will tell 
 you the whole story some day. In the meantime we will 
 try to arrange the matter about the money. She can hardly 
 help receiving it if the communication is made to her 
 through a lawyer in the regular way of busmess ; and we 
 will try and manage it so." 
 
 And the affair was arranged shortly after in such a 
 manner that, when Laura Luscombe found herself unex- 
 pectedly a wealthy woman, she had no idea but that, 
 although Captain Hemmings had in his lifetime cast her 
 off like an old glove, he had endeavoured, by making 
 this handsome provision for her in his will, to make a 
 tardy atonement. At any rate, there was the money, 
 and, whether Laura wished to take it or not, she had to 
 do so. 
 
 As we are writing about Laura, we may as well here 
 record her future fate. For a time she wandered about 
 Europe with Nellie Watson, who, when she had started to 
 travel, positively declined to allow her aunt to return to 
 England. Mr. Watson, worthy man, came over and joined 
 them for a time in a continental town ; but, finding Nellie 
 indisposed to return when he did so himself, he, as usual, 
 allowed her to have her own way. The aunt was obedient, 
 
340 
 
 ADA TRISCOTT 
 
 and so Nellie went whither she listed. With Nellie as 
 their protectress, the other two coald by no means be said 
 to be *' unprotected females." 
 
 At Fribourg, in Switzerland, Laura met her fate. While 
 staying for a few days at the " Zahringerhoff Hotel," the 
 ladies made the acquaintance, at the table d^hote^ of a 
 young Norwegian gentleman named Oscar Anderssen. 
 His pleasant, but not presuming manners, more resembling 
 those of an Englishman than of a foreigner, caused the 
 prudent Nellie for once to relax her rigid rule against any 
 sort of intimacy with chance acquaintances, and he was 
 therefore allowed to accompany the party when, in the 
 evening, they went to hear the splendid and celebrated 
 organ in St. Nicholas' Cathedral yield up, under the deli- 
 cate manipulation of Herr Vogt, such a wealth of wild 
 rhythm and melody as is elsewhere unknown. 
 
 Here, seated in the dimly-lighted cathedral by Laura's 
 side, the music and surroundings first touched the young 
 man's heart. The rest is easily told. Laura returned his 
 love, but was determined not to marry him under false 
 pretences. His, however, was a pure, disinterested love 
 which rose above everything, and, when all concerning 
 Laura's past had, at her request, been revealed to him by 
 Miss Watson, Oscar Anderssen was still anxious to make 
 the lovely young Devonshire girl his bride. 
 
 Then, and not till then, when she had proved the worth 
 of the man, did Nellie inform him that, in marrying Laura, 
 he was marrying an heiress. 
 
 Laura is now the happy mother of a family in Christiania, 
 where the beautiful Fiord reminds her at times of her 
 own dearly-beloved Tamar at home. 
 
 Shortly after Jack's mairiai^e with Ada, which took 
 
CONCLUSION 
 
 34J 
 
 place in the winter, Nellie returned with her aunt to 
 Plymouth, and went out to Horrabridge. 
 
 To her father there seemed to be a change in her 
 manner from what it had been in her old days. Her sister 
 Mollie also — who, accompanied by her husband and the 
 first little " Bung," came to welcome her on her return — 
 found her more subdued than formerly. It is true that at 
 first, when, in her usual downrir^ht manner, Nellie declared 
 that she " hated children," and asked " if it had got its 
 eyes open yet ? " there did not seem much observable 
 difference. But, to MoUie's acute and sisterly love, Nellie's 
 silence, and the entire absence of the old boisterous ways, 
 were quite sufficient to show that there was something 
 wrong. 
 
 Mollie did not in the least resent the disparaging 
 opening remarks made on " Bung " junior. On her way 
 home she confided to our old friend Lifton that she would 
 have been far more pleased if she had heard a few more of 
 the same tenor ; she would then have had a much better 
 opinion of her dear old sister Nellie's state of health and 
 spirits. 
 
 The middle of February had come, and with it a hard; 
 black frost. The tors and hills were covered with a 
 sprinkling of snow. That, with a bright blue wintry sun, 
 added much to the ever-present beauty of the scenery. 
 
 Nellie, sketch-book in hand, announced her intention 
 of going to make a sketch. 
 
 " But, my dear child," suid her father, " the weather." 
 
 •' But, my dear father," said she, smiling determinedly, 
 'Tm going all the same — I want a walk. There! take 
 that ! " — as a sudden impulse made her turn back from the 
 door and i^ive him a kiss. 
 
342 
 
 ADA TR I SCOTT 
 
 " Which way are you going ? " he called after her. 
 
 " I think I'm going Manadon Down way, but I'm not 
 quite sure," she called back. 
 
 Nellie walked briskly along, through Meavy village, and 
 then out on to the moor, without exactly noticing whither 
 her steps were wending \ so lost was she in thought. At last 
 she was suddenly aroused by finding that she had reached 
 the spot where they had crossed the river on the day of 
 the expedition to Sheep's Tor. An impulse seized her. 
 
 " I'll cross the river, and see if I can get up the tor. 
 What a happy day that was I " and she sighed heavily. 
 
 She crossed the river successfully, but the sky had 
 clouded over, and the snow commenced to fall in occa- 
 sional flakes. Not one whit discouraged, Nellie continued 
 her upward way, her mind fixed upon the past. 
 
 Meanwhile the snow fell quicker and quicker, and the 
 cold increased, as it was accompanied by a driving east 
 wind. But, although it cut through Nellie's clothes like 
 points of glass, the idea never once seemed to enter her 
 head of returning. 
 
 " I will reach the top," she determined ; and she 
 struggled on through the ever deepening snow. 
 
 At last, completely exhausted, with trembling limbs, 
 and perished with cold, Nellie reached a spot just below 
 the summit, which, in spite of the driving snow and the 
 altered surroundings, in spite of her trembling limbs and 
 her whirling brain, she recognised well. It was the spot 
 where Jack and MoUie had once ensconced themselves, 
 while she and Lifton had sketched above them. 
 
 " What a happy day that was ! Darling old Jack ! this 
 is where he sat," she murmured ; and, sitting down on the 
 same spot, she covered her face with her hands. 
 
CONCLUSION 
 
 343 
 
 A curious, half-painful, half-pleasant numbness had come 
 over her, and she never thought again of moving. She 
 was in a happy dream of the past j with her arms stretched 
 above her head, she sank down upon the snow, and nestled 
 her face close to it. 
 
 *' He never, never knew how f/iuch I loved him — my 
 own Jack ! my darling Jack ! I'm so tired, but so happy — 
 Jack — I'll go to — sleep for a while — and then — you'll wake 
 me — Jack." 
 
 But from that sleep the trump of the archangel alone 
 shall wake Nellie Watson. 
 
 Not for more than a week, when the thaw came, was 
 Nellie's body recovered. Then all that was mortal of the 
 gay and sprightly Nellie Watson, the noblest of women, the 
 most self-sacrificing of friends, was found lying face down- 
 wards on the summit of Sheep's Tor, as though in her last 
 moments she had striven to kiss the withered heather upon 
 that hoary summit. 
 
 Deep was the sadness in Jack's heart when he left his 
 fair young bride to attend her funeral. 
 
 What his sensations were as he followed her mortal 
 remains to the grave, he alone could tell. 
 
 He had never met, and but seldom heard from her 
 since the day of the walk to Plym Bridge. 
 
 Jack has now a little daughter of his own called Nellie, 
 in memory of one who had loved him devotedly, who had 
 helped him when he was weak, and had at length saved him 
 in the hour of temptation to infidelity, although crushing 
 her own heart to do so. 
 
 Penallyn Hall has been rebuilt, and Jack and his wife 
 and William Triscott live there together ; for the former 
 left the army on obtaining his company, and now represents 
 
344 
 
 ADA TA' /SCOTT 
 
 his division of the county in Parliament. Every Christinas, 
 '' Bung " and his wife and family come to visit them. George 
 we have heard of from China. He talks of coming home 
 shortly to be married io his cousin Rose. When he does, 
 let us hope that they may be as happy as Jack Treleaven 
 and Ada Triscott. 
 
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