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 RACHEL DENE
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 RACHEL DENE 
 
 A TALE OF THE DEEPDALE MILLS 
 
 EV 
 
 ROBERT BUCHANAN 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 'god and the man," " THE SHADOW OF THE SWORD," ETC. 
 
 A NE IV EDITION 
 
 ill LONDON 
 
 (?HATTO & WINDUS, PICCADn.LY 
 
 1895
 
 ROBERT BUCHANAN'S WORKS. 
 
 Crown Svo, cloth extra, 6s. each, 
 
 SELECTED POEMS OF ROBERT BUCHANAN. With Frontis- 
 piece by T. Dalziel. 
 
 THE EARTHQUAKE ; or, Six Days and a Sabbath. 
 
 THE CITY OF DREAM: An Epic Poem. With Two Illustrations by 
 P. Macnab. 
 
 THE WANDERING JEW: A Christmas Carol. Second Edition. 
 
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 THE OUTCAST: A Rhyme for the Time. With 15 Illustrations by 
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 ROBERT BUCHANAN'S COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS. 
 With Steel-plate Portrait. 
 
 Crown Svo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. each; post Svo, illustj'ated boards, 2s. each. 
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE SWORD. 
 
 A CHILD OF NATURE. 
 
 GOD AND THE MAN. With 11 Illustrations by Feed Baenaed. 
 
 THE MARTYRDOM OF MADELINE. 
 
 LOVE ME FOR EVER. ANNAN WATER. 
 
 FOXGLOVE MANOR. THE NEW ABELARD. 
 
 MATT : A Story of a Caravan. 
 
 THE MASTER OF THE MINE. 
 
 THE HEIR OF LINNE. 
 
 Crow7i Svo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. each. 
 WOMAN AND THE MAN. 
 RED AND WHITE HEATHER. 
 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 Crown Svo, cloth extra, 63. 
 LADY KILPATRICK. 
 
 Two Vols., lOs. net, 
 THE CHARLATAN. By Robert Buchanan and Henry Mue rat, 
 
 London: CHATTO & WINDUS, Piccadilly. 
 
 I / dUK i:2L
 
 A 
 
 f
 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAriER 
 
 I. Found in the Snow 
 
 
 PAGE 
 1 
 
 II. 
 
 Bad News travels Fast 
 
 
 9 
 
 III. 
 
 Little Rachel 
 
 
 ... 19 
 
 IV. 
 
 Two Lads and a Lass ... 
 
 
 28 
 
 V. 
 
 A Game at Lawn-Tennis 
 
 
 ... 39 
 
 VI. 
 
 The Great Invention 
 
 
 49 
 
 VII. 
 
 A Black Monday 
 
 
 ... 57 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Ealph Mollis ... 
 
 
 68 
 
 IX. 
 
 A Forewarning 
 
 
 ... 76 
 
 X. 
 
 The Feast op St. Leger 
 
 
 83 
 
 XI. 
 
 After the Legeb 
 
 
 ... 95 
 
 XII. 
 
 Jabez Prtke's Vigil 
 
 
 103 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Up at the Mill 
 
 
 ... 113 
 
 XIV. 
 
 The Dead Man ... 
 
 
 118 
 
 XV. 
 
 The Inquest 
 
 
 ... 124 
 
 XVI. 
 
 The Earl of Beauchamp 
 
 
 131 
 
 XVII. 
 
 The Primrose Path ... 
 
 
 ... 144 
 
 iVIII. 
 
 'TwixT Dover and Calais 
 
 
 156
 
 VI" CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTKE J-AOB 
 
 XIX. Guilty or not Guilty ... ... ... 165 
 
 XX. Under Sentence of Death ... ... 170 
 
 XXI. Prison Walls ... ... ... ... 180 
 
 XXII. Another Change ... ... ... 193 
 
 XXIII. Captain Fitzherbert ... ... ... 204 
 
 XXIV. Rachel on the Watch... ... ... 211 
 
 XXV. Fitzherbert gets into Trouble ... ... 220 
 
 XXVI. The Two Prisoners ... ... ... 210 
 
 XXVII. A Eomantic Episode ... ... ... 240 
 
 XXVIII. In Brittany 266 
 
 XXIX. A Sunbeam m Deepdale ... ... ... 277
 
 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 FOUND IN THE SNOW. 
 
 It was Christmas Eve. Two men and a woman 
 Bat, snow-surrounded, in the parlour of a small 
 cottage in the valley of Deepdale, Yorkshire. One 
 man was old, and the woman was his grey, world- 
 worn wife; the other man was young, hale, and 
 hearty. 
 
 "Here's Jack's health," said the old man, 
 Jasper Heywood. 
 
 *' And here's Jack's wife," said Joan. 
 
 "Nay, let us toast them together," interposed 
 the young man ; " for sure man and wife are one 
 flesh — so here's to 'em both, and God send 'em 
 safely home from these cruel wars." 
 
 " Thou mayst well say cruel, Jabez," replied 
 Joan. "Ah, if I had my wa3% there'd be no 
 fighting men abroad, nor weeping wenches at 
 home ! " 
 
 " Stop there, woman," said Jasper. " An there
 
 2 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 was no fightin' men abroad, what'd become o' the 
 weepin' wenches at home ? — what'd become o' ifs, 
 and our tight little island, I'd like to know — eh, 
 Jabez ? " 
 
 "Well, father, when the world grows older and 
 wiser, perhaps folk will find something better to 
 do than cut other folk's throats ; but I fear that 
 won't be in your time, or mine." 
 
 *' Likely not," was the reply. " Meanwhile, 
 since Christmas comes but once a year, let's be 
 jolly. Load thy pipe, lad — here's a bit o' rare 
 bird's-eye ; and, good wife, mull us another mug 
 o' elder, and come round t' fire, for sure it's a 
 bitter neet." 
 
 The old man was right. It was a bitter night 
 indeed. The wind, however, had dropped, and 
 the snow, which had been falling almost incessantly 
 for the past twenty-four hours, had almost ceased. 
 
 All was calm now, and still. 
 
 "When Jabez Pryke came down from Deepdale 
 Mills the night before, to pass Christmas with his 
 adopted father, Jasper Heywood, and his wife 
 Joan, the grey goose in the sky was only just 
 beginning to shed her feathers ; but now she had 
 shed them till the heavens were bare. 
 
 The snowdrift had fallen in the valley breast 
 high, and the roads were nigh impassable. 
 
 " Strikes me, Jabez," said Joan, *' thou'lt have 
 to stay here for t' next week ; for sure, thou'lt 
 never be able to get to t' mills wi'out a snow- 
 sledge."
 
 FOUND IN THE SNOW, 3 
 
 " Well, good mother," answered the young man, 
 laughing, " I couldna wish for better company, 
 nor a warmer welcome, though for certain I 
 promised t' gaffer to dine up at t' Hall to-morrow ; 
 and he'll think I'm lost i' t' snow-drift if he doesna 
 see me." 
 
 " Come i' t' ingle neuk; draw thysen up t' fire," 
 replied Joan. 
 
 The yule log crackled on the hearth, and shed 
 a ruddy glow on the cosy cottage and its occupants, 
 as they gathered closer to the fire. 
 
 Old friends these — friends of many years' stand- 
 ing. Although Jabez Pryke had barely turned 
 his five-and-twentieth year, while Jasper and his 
 wife were approaching the meridian of life, Jabez 
 remembered them as long as he could remember 
 anything; for, when left an orphan, they had 
 taken him home and brought him up, side by side 
 with their own boy, the little fair-haired Jack ; 
 and from that time forth the two lads loved one 
 another, even as David and Jonathan. 
 
 Once, and only once, an interruption occurred 
 to their friendship. Of course it was a woman, 
 and the old story. They both loved the same 
 woman. But Jael Hoyle loved Jack ; and no 
 wonder, for he was a jovial, genial, good-looking, 
 good-hearted lad, whom to look at was to love; 
 while poor Jabez was gaunt, and gauche, and 
 lantern- jawed, and looked twice his years. In 
 truth, he had little or nothing about him to 
 captivate a woman's eye, nothing but a heart
 
 4 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 of gold ; but that was out of sight, and counted for 
 little in the contest. 
 
 When he saw that the girl he loved loved his 
 friend, he gulped down his sorrow and said nothing ; 
 nay, more, he was best man at the wedding, and, 
 despite the hidden wolf gnawing at his heart, he 
 kept a stiff upper lip and a smiling face till the 
 hard day's work was done, and he reached his 
 little chamber, and was alone with his God and 
 his great grief. 
 
 Bride and bridegroom went on a visit to Jack's 
 uncle, the dalesman in Cumberland, for their 
 humble honeymoon. When they came back, a 
 week later, Jabez had left his old home for good 
 and all. 
 
 It was a wrench, but the thing had to be done, 
 and so the sooner it was done the better. 
 
 The day after the wedding he went up to the 
 master of the mills. 
 
 Jacob Dene was a shrewd, observant man ; and 
 when Jabez told him that he was bent on going to 
 London to seek his fortune, Jacob soon learned the 
 secret of his servant, and sympathized with him, 
 remembering that he had once been young him- 
 self. 
 
 In the end, Jabez did not go to London; he 
 stayed at Deepdale, took up his quarters at the 
 mills, became a trusted servant and faithful friend. 
 Henceforth his lines were cast in pleasant places 
 — that is, if any place could be pleasant to him 
 without the lass he loved.
 
 FOUND IN THE SNOW. 5 
 
 All is not gold that glitters, and she had perhaps 
 done better had she married him instead of her 
 graceless Jack. 
 
 Twelve months after the marriage, Jacob Dene's 
 only son came home with his beautiful young wife. 
 This gay and gallant youth was a captain in the 
 fighting Forty-First. 
 
 He and Jack and Jabez had been playmates. 
 It is true he had never cared much for Jabez, but 
 Jack and he had played truant together, stolen 
 bird's nests, and robbed orchards together in their 
 boyhood, and when they met after some years' 
 absence they fraternized as of old. Jacob was a 
 rich man's son, and Jack was poor ; but they were 
 made of the same stuff, and when the one was 
 summoned to join his regiment, he had little 
 difficulty in inducing the other to take the Queen's 
 shilling, and accompany him over the sea. 
 
 They sailed the same day, and at the same 
 hour, from Southampton for India, accompanied 
 by their young wives. 
 
 That was two years past, and more. 
 
 Those were perilous times. The Oaks and Row- 
 land Cottage heard regularly from the dear ones 
 until the Mutiny broke out. Then tidings came 
 fitfully, or came not at all. 
 
 At last came news which set every English heart 
 on fire — news of the well of Cawnpore and the 
 siege of Lucknow. 
 
 "It's strange," said Joan, " that we've no news 
 of Jack or Jael."
 
 6 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 " No news is good news, owd lass," cried her 
 husband ; "so let us hope that Jack and his wife 
 have got clear with a whole skin from those Injun 
 cut-throats." 
 
 "Amen! " replied Jabez. 
 
 Then, for a time, they subsided into silence as 
 they communed with their own sad thoughts. 
 The old dame's heart sank within her when she 
 thought that her boy might have fallen into the 
 hands of the bloody Nana ; while Jabez conjured 
 up in the fire a fair face and a pair of haunting, 
 unforgotten eyes — a face which grew clearer and 
 more distinct every moment. 
 
 At this very instant, when they heard, or thought 
 they heard, nothing but the beating of their own 
 hearts, the silence was broken by a low, soft wail 
 from without. 
 
 " What's that ? " exclaimed Joan. " Hush ! " 
 
 Again the sound broke on the stillness, this time 
 louder than before. 
 
 "The lantern — quick, the lantern ! " cried Jabez. 
 
 Without pausing, he rushed out, followed by 
 Jasper and his wife. 
 
 Struggling through the snow, they reached the 
 garden gate. 
 
 In front of it, face downwards, lay a woman, 
 clad in a large woollen shawl and a dark, travel- 
 stained dress ; a kerchief of vivid crimson from 
 which her long dark hair had escaped streaming 
 in abundance over her shoulders, was bound round 
 her head.
 
 FOUND IN THE SNOW. 7 
 
 Once more arose the soft, tender wail which 
 had brought them forth. There was no mistake 
 now from whence the sound came. There was 
 something beneath the woman's shawl, something 
 which breathed and stirred. 
 
 •' A child ! " exclaimed Joan. 
 
 *' The lantern, Jasper — the lantern ! " cried 
 Jabez. 
 
 *' Here, lad— here ! " 
 
 Jabez climbed the gate, stooped, and, lifting the 
 woman, turned her face to the light. 
 
 " My God ! Jael ! " he gasped. 
 
 " Jael— Jael ! " 
 
 For a moment the two men stood as if they 
 were frozen to ice ; then the woman said, or, 
 rather, shrieked, "What are you standing there 
 for, you ? Standin' like blocks of stone, while my 
 boy's wife and her bairn are freezin' to death ! 
 Look alive — d'ye hear, d'ye hear? Gi' me t' 
 lantern ! Tear t' gate up by t' roots, gin ye canna 
 push it back ! " 
 
 Even as she spoke the two men tore the gate 
 up, and plucked it forth from the snow, then 
 laying the woman and the child upon it, they 
 carried them to the cottage. 
 
 "Away wi' ye for five minutes," said Joan; 
 ** this is a woman's business, not yourn. Stay ! 
 Take t' mattress off t' bed, pillows, bolsters, and 
 bring 'm here. Now t' sponge — t' panshion 
 — mustard — hot water. That'll do; away ye 
 go I »
 
 8 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 When they returned from the kitchen, a quarter 
 of an hour later, the child lay croodling on the 
 hearth before the fire. The mother, pale and 
 helpless, almost speechless, lay beside him. 
 
 " The doctor — send for the doctor, Jabez," cried 
 Joan. 
 
 " Nay, mother," gasped Jael. ** I'm past doctor's 
 help. I've reached the end of my journey, and 
 am grateful to God that He has brought me here 
 to die." 
 
 "But you'll no die, hinny; we'll not lot ye die 
 — ye'U live, live for Jack's sake." 
 
 " I'm going to join him, mother." 
 
 " What ! my Jack dead ?— dead ! " 
 
 "Yes, mother, I saw him struck down before 
 my very eyes at Lucknow, while trying to save 
 young Jacob Dene from one of the murdering 
 savages. He had only time to say, * Go home, 
 take t' bairn to father and mother, and Jabez, 
 and tell 'em to love him for poor Jack's sake.' 
 And you see," she added faintly, " here I am with 
 little Jack." 
 
 After a moment's pause, Jabez inquired tenderly, 
 " And Lucy — Lucy Dene ? " 
 
 " The well— the well of Cawnpore ! " gasped the 
 dying woman. 
 
 A thrill of horror passed through her listeners, 
 and she herself fell back in an agony of past horror 
 and present pain. 
 
 " The doctor, the doctor ! " again cried Joan. 
 
 "Never mind t' doctor," moaned the dying
 
 SAD NEWS TRAVELS FAST. g 
 
 woman. " Kiss mo, mother, father, kiss me. 
 Jabez, won't you kiss me, too ? My poor lad 
 used to say out yonder, Jabez, that if aught 
 happened to him thou'dst be a feyther to little 
 Jack." 
 
 She looked for a moment into the face of her 
 faithful friend and lover ; then, smiling faintly as 
 he bent and touched her forehead with his young 
 lips, she sank back and died. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 BAD NEWS TEAVELS FAST. 
 
 As the distant bells of Deepdale rang in the 
 Christmas Day, Jabez Pryke stood up on the snow- 
 covered moorland, gazing down the valley towards 
 the dark smoke-covered town and high buildings 
 of the mills. He was quite alone, and remained 
 for a long time like one in a dream. The winter 
 morning was still and peaceful, the snow had 
 ceased to fall, and the sky was quite light and 
 clear. He had wandered thither before daybreak, 
 to commune with his own sad thoughts. 
 
 So lonely and so pastoral was the scene, so 
 devoid of all signs of life, that the solitary man 
 might have been taken for a shepherd on some 
 mountain far removed from men. On every side 
 stretched the white moorland, rising up behind
 
 10 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 Lim to hills of grass and heather, and strewn 
 everywhere with rocks and boulders glistening 
 moistly in the morning sun. To his left, half a 
 mile away, flowed the river, thinly sheeted with 
 glistening ice, and creeping silently down towards 
 the mills, and between him and Dee^Ddale stood the 
 cottage which contained the dead form of the only 
 being he had ever loved. 
 
 Tall, gaunt, ungainly, with a thin, worn face, 
 and sad, weary eyes, he looked much older than 
 his years. His shoulders stooped habitually, as 
 if under some heavy burthen, and, shepherd-like, 
 he leaned upon a thick oaken staff ; indeed, though 
 his life was spent in the busy whirl of manufacture, 
 he had the brooding, wistful air of men who dwell 
 constantly alone. He wore black to-day, an ill- 
 fitting suit of broadcloth, and a black slouch hat 
 was drawn down upon his brows. 
 
 When his hour of trial came, he had yielded 
 up Jael Heywood with scarcely a visible sign of 
 pain. It was not in the man's nature to parade 
 either his joy or his grief. But he had wandered 
 up to the moorland, as to-day, to the very spot 
 where he now stood, and had his dark hour alone. 
 How well he remembered it all ! It was summer 
 then, and the moor was scented and alive ; but his 
 heart was not less desolate and cold than on this 
 weary wintry day. 
 
 Even in his utter desolation there was a strange 
 sense of awe and rapture. She he loved was at 
 peace with God ; she was God's only now, and all
 
 BAD NEWS TRAVELS FAST, ii 
 
 bitterness "was over ; and, crowning grace of all, 
 sbe bad died witli bis name upon lier lips, con- 
 fiding to bis care ber little belpless cbild. Stand- 
 ing tbere alone, and gazing on tbe roof beneatli 
 wbicb sbe lay in deatb, Jabez swore tbat be would 
 fulfil tbat sacred trust, and be a fatber to tbe little 
 Jack. 
 
 At last, slowly and sadly, be turned bis steps 
 towards Deepdale, toiling tbrougb tbe snow, and 
 following tbe windings of tbe frozen river. Turn- 
 ing aside before be readied tbe outskirts of tbe 
 little town, wbere Heywood's cottage stood, be 
 followed tbe road eastward till be came in sigbt of 
 tbe old cburcb. He drew near tbe cburcbyard 
 gate, and looked over upon God's acre, wbere bis 
 beloved Jael was soon to lie. As be paused tbus a 
 band was laid upon bis sboulder, and a cbeery 
 voice greeted bim by name. 
 
 Turning, be saw tbe very man be was going to 
 seek — Jobn Lyster, tbe vicar of Deepdale. 
 
 " A merry Cbristmas, Jabez ! Counting tbe 
 tombstones, eb ? A cbeerless occupation, surely, 
 for Cbristmas morning." Tben, startled by tbe 
 expression on tbe young man's face, tbe vicar added, 
 •' Is anytbing tbe matter ? " 
 
 " I bave bad news, sir," replied Jabez, gentlj'. 
 " Jael Hey wood — our Jael, young Jack Heywood's 
 wife — came back last nigbt from India." 
 
 " Impossible ! Came back, do you say ? " 
 
 "Ay, sir; came back — to die. We found ber 
 fainting in t' snow, wi' ber little bairn, and — and —
 
 12 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 she's lying yonder in lier father's cottage, waiting 
 till they carry her to her last home." 
 
 Despite his habitual self-control, the man's voice 
 was broken with sobs, and, leaning his head upon 
 the gate, he moaned as if in mortal pain. 
 
 " Bad news, indeed ! " cried Mr. Lyster. " Poor 
 Jael ! she was a pretty lass ! And that bright 
 fellow, her husband — he " 
 
 As he spoke, Jabez lifted his head and looked 
 full into his face, with a gaze so wild, so woebegone, 
 that he knew at once that there was more to come. 
 Then, in a few words, Jabez told him all the terrible 
 tale which Jael had told with her dying lips, of 
 the murderous work far away, of carnage, of horror, 
 and the hideous well of Cawnpore. 
 
 " My child ! — my little Lucy ! " cried the vicar, 
 hiding his face in his hands, and sobbing like a 
 child. 
 
 It was his turn now to suffer, and, after a few 
 more piteous words, he passed through the church- 
 yard gate, and entered the church, to pass Ms dark 
 hour there. 
 
 Sick at heart, Jabez Pryke walked on. His work 
 was not yet done. He had to carry the sad news 
 onward, and, though his heart sank within him, he 
 would trust the task to no other man. 
 
 Following the road, he made the best of his way 
 to the house of his master and employer, Jacob 
 Dene, owner of the great Deepdale Mills. The 
 Oaks, as it was called, was situated half a mile 
 from the church and Vicarage, on an eminence juet
 
 BAD NEWS TRAVELS FAST. 13 
 
 beyond the outskirts of the little town. It was a 
 new mansion, and took its name from the young 
 trees which had been planted in front of its 
 spacious garden. 
 
 Eeaching the iron gate, ho passed up a winding 
 carriage path, and stood on the broad stone steps 
 of the house — a plain, but spacious building, of no 
 pretensions to architectural beauty. With a deep 
 sigh, he rang the bell. A plainly dressed serving 
 woman opened the door. 
 
 " Is t' master in ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Pryke." 
 
 ** And t' mistress ? " he added, thinking with a 
 tremor of the tale he had to tell. 
 
 **Nay; mistress has just stepped out to see a 
 sick lass i' the town." 
 
 Jabez stepped into the hall, and stood there 
 bareheaded. 
 
 " Tell t' master I wish to see him." 
 
 The woman disappeared, and returning almost 
 immediately, ushered Jabez into a large, plainly 
 furnished study at the rear of the mansion, where 
 a tall man in the prime of life sat reading ; a man 
 with a square determined face and keen black eyes, 
 but with lines of gentleness around his mouth. 
 He looked up and nodded as the young man 
 entered. 
 
 "Well, Jabez, what brings thee here on Christ- 
 mas morning ? " 
 
 ** Bad news, sir," was the reply. 
 
 •* Nothing wrong at the works, my lad ? "
 
 14 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 ''Nay, sir; worse than that. It's bad news 
 from far away — something that concerns your son." 
 
 Jacob Dene rose to his feet, and saw, as the vicar 
 had done, the shadow of the coming sorrow on the 
 man's grief-stricken face. 
 
 " Speak out, man ! What is it ? No harm has 
 come to him ? He is not — dead ? " 
 
 Jacob did not reply in words, but the look in his 
 eyes was enough, and Jacob Dene staggered as if 
 before a blow. Then the story was told, as before. 
 Silently, without tears, but pale as death, Jacob 
 Dene listened ; then, turning away his face, and 
 gazing out through the window of the room, he 
 motioned Jabez to leave him alone. 
 
 To understand the position of affairs, especially 
 as it concerned the present head of the great 
 Deepdale Mills, it will be necessary to go back a 
 little. 
 
 The Denes had been settled at Deepdale since 
 Jacob, first of that name, came back from America 
 with William Penn, after having helped that astute 
 man to found Pennsylvania. 
 
 Jacob Dene the first had been attracted to the 
 beautiful Yorkshire valley by the bright eyes of 
 Eachel Hunsden, a beautiful Yorkshire girl. 
 When he married her, he settled down in the 
 valley, and there the Denes had stayed from that 
 day to this. Like the friend of the founder of the 
 family, they had all been born and bred Quakers. 
 Up to a hundred years ago they had all been
 
 BAD NEWS TRAVELS FAST. 15 
 
 farmers, but the Jacob (for the first-born lad was 
 always a Jacob, as the first-born lass was always a 
 Eachel) of that day became acquainted with 
 Eichard Arkwright, took up his famous invention, 
 and went into the spinning business ; and so from 
 email beginnings were developed the great Deepdale 
 Mills, and Dene, alpaca, subluna, and vecuna 
 manufacturers, who traded all over the world. 
 They employed several thousand hands, and the 
 Deepdale Mills were the pride of all Yorkshire. 
 
 Every modern appliance and improvement had 
 been brought to bear upon the manufactory for the 
 good of employer and employed; while the little 
 town itself, its church, its schools, its baths, its 
 gardens, its college and park, were the envy and 
 admiration of the country, and all broad England 
 besides. 
 
 Jacob Dene, the present master of the mills, was 
 an austere man ; but he was a large-hearted and 
 liberal, and, in many respects, a modern idea'd 
 man — possibly a little too modern idea'd — for he 
 loathed the profession of arms as much as he 
 detested capital punishment. Except hanging a 
 man, he maintained that the worst use to which a 
 man could be put was the occupation of cutting 
 throats for hire. He was not one of those men 
 who confine their interest in a subject to a merely 
 theoretical view of it ; hence, upon a certain 
 memorable occasion, he formed one of a deputa- 
 tion who travelled to St. Petersburg to wait upon 
 the Tsar for the purpose of beseeching the Autocrat
 
 i6 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 of the North to refer some impending war to 
 arbitration. As everybody knows, the Quaker and 
 his fi'iends had their journey for nothing ; still, 
 they had done their best, and no one can do better 
 than that. 
 
 These being Jacob's views, it may readily be 
 conceived that he was distressed beyond measure 
 when his only son and heir, young Jacob Dene, in 
 direct defiance of the family traditions, became a 
 soldier. Nor were matters much mended when 
 he espoused Lucy Lyster, the vicar's pretty but 
 penniless daughter. 
 
 True, poor Lucy was as good as she was beauti- 
 ful ; but the Denes had always married money and 
 land, and when there was neither one nor the 
 other, it widened the breach. And so, when they 
 parted, and the last " good-bye " was said, although 
 there was no bad blood 'twixt son and sire, there 
 was some coldness between them, and more between 
 Jacob Dene and the vicar of Deepdale. 
 
 The truth was, Jacob thought that the vicar had 
 been too facile and compliant a father, and that, 
 in point of fact, he had planted his penniless 
 daughter upon the wealthy heir of the Deepdale 
 Mills. Never was there a graver mistake, or a 
 greater injustice. The young couple loved each 
 other, and all the fathers and mothers in the 
 world would have been powerless to have kept 
 them apart. 
 
 As the reader already knows, when Captain 
 Dene went out to India with his young wife, Jasper
 
 SAD NEWS TRAVELS FAST. iy 
 
 Heywood's son Jack and his wife Jael sailed with 
 them. 
 
 It was a heavy day at Deepdale when these 
 young people left their native valley. Jacob Dene 
 seemed hard and self-contained, and bade them a 
 cold good-bye ; but many days elapsed before he 
 returned to himself. When the poor mother loses 
 her only son, the blow falls as heavily in the palace 
 as the cottage, and Susanna Dene bewailed her 
 boy as much as Joan Hey wood bewept hers. 
 
 Jabez Pryke, who suffered most of all, kept his 
 sorrow to himself. He and the vicar accompanied 
 the young people to Southampton to see the last 
 of them ; and from that time forth the lonely man 
 and the lonely parson (for Mr. Lyster was a 
 widower) were firm friends. The latter had in- 
 stinctively divined Jabez's secret, and sympathized 
 with his grief and self-abnegation. 
 
 Jabez Pryke left the master of the mills to brood 
 over the terrible story which Jael Heywood had 
 brought from Lucknow. The master of the mills 
 remained for a long time silent, as a man trans- 
 fixed to stone. Two hours later, however, he went 
 down to the Vicarage. Extending his hand to his 
 quondam enemy, he said — 
 
 " Friend, thou hast heard." 
 
 " The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away, 
 blessed be the name of the Lord," replied the vicar. 
 
 "I have tried to school myself to say so," 
 returned the millionaire, **but I cannot as yet; 
 

 
 i8 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 my heart was ever rebellious. It runs in the blood 
 of the Denes. Well, I am justly punished. We are 
 two childless old men ; those whom we loved have 
 been taken from us, and have left no sign that they 
 ever lived. It is hard to bear. Let us not make it 
 harder still by enmity. Canst thou forgive me ? " 
 The vicar grasped his hand in silence, and no 
 more was said ; but from that time forth all was 
 forgotten and forgiven. 
 
 When it was known at church time that little 
 Jack and his mother had been found in the snow 
 over night, outside Heywood's cottage, the whole 
 valley was alive. Foremost among the visitors to 
 the chamber of death were the vicar, Jacob Dene, 
 and Susanna his wife. Over that scene of common 
 suffering we will draw a veil. 
 
 Every one wondered how poor Jael had ever 
 reached Deepdale. Subsequent inquiries served to 
 Bhow that the Government had provided for her 
 passage to England, and that, on her arrival, 
 although enfeebled by disease and privation, she 
 persisted in pressing onwards to her native valley ; 
 that when she arrived at Barford, unable to obtain 
 a conveyance, she started forth to walk, was over- 
 taken by the snowstorm, and fell death-stricken on 
 the very threshold of her own old home. 
 
 As Jacob Dene gazed on the infant boy, who, all 
 unmindful of his loss, lay crowing in his grandam's 
 arms, he thought that he would have given all the 
 wealth of Deepdale to have had a flower like that 
 blossoming in his childless home.
 
 ( ^9 ) 
 
 CIIAPTEE III. 
 
 LITTLE EACHEL. 
 
 Time speedily confirmecl the doleful tidings brought 
 by Jael Heywood to Deepdale that memorablo 
 winter night. Full details arrived ere long, and 
 there could no longer be any doubt that young 
 Captain Dene had fallen at the moment of the 
 relief of Lucknow, and Lucy his wife was among 
 the victims at Cawnpore. As they read the horrible 
 record, both Jacob Dene and John Lyster forgot 
 their gentle creed ; the one remembered no longer 
 that he was a clergyman, the other that he was a 
 Quaker. They felt only, in that supreme hour of 
 sorrow, that they were fathers and Englishmen. 
 
 Their hands clenched, their eyes flashing fire, 
 they stood together outside the churchyard, where 
 poor Jael was now peacefully asleep. 
 
 The vicar exclaimed, " These things must not 
 be thought of, but they make men mad ! " 
 
 "Not thought of?" echoed the master of the 
 mills. "Not thought of? I can think of naught 
 but thy poor child, my boy's wife. Had I been 
 there ! had I been there ! " 
 
 " Had we both been there ! " 
 
 Then the clergyman said something very un- 
 canonical, and parson and Quaker, after wringing 
 each other's hands, strode off in opposite direc- 
 tions to walk their agony away. Women, however,
 
 20 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 cannot relieve their pent-up sorrows in the manner 
 of strong men ; they can only suffer and endure. 
 In silence and alone, the poor bereaved mother, 
 Susanna Dene, mourned the loved ones whose loss 
 had made her home so desolate ! 
 
 In that terrible hour of England's ghastly vic- 
 tory, when horror was piled on horror, and every 
 day brought fresh news of victory blended with 
 calamity, the cries of grief and agony were echoed 
 in a thousand English homes. The nation, like 
 Christian in the fable, was passing through the 
 very Valley of the Shadow of Death. Little wonder, 
 indeed, that men forget their magnanimity, and 
 women their faith in God, before the spectacle of 
 such tribulation. Justice was shaken on her 
 throne; Mercy, like an avenging angel, changed 
 her nature and waved the bloody dagger of re- 
 venge, and wherever the English tongue was 
 spoken rose one common shriek demanding 
 retribution. 
 
 Nature, ever heedless of the fitful and unreason- 
 ing strife of man, continued her secret ministra- 
 tions, and drew over the graves of many dead her 
 coverlet of grass and flowers. The winter had 
 passed away, and spring blew her windy clarion 
 on the hills. Where snow had lain on the broad 
 upland moors, the thyme and heather waved, and 
 the air hummed with sounds of joyful life. 
 
 One Saturday afternoon in early summer, Jabez, 
 the overseer, left the mills, and, going along with 
 the stream of men and women homeward bound,
 
 LITTLE RACHEL. 2i 
 
 made his way to the cliurcliyarcl, to gaze, as was 
 his constant custom, on the grave of poor Jacl. 
 Work was over for the day, and the folk were 
 swarming like bees out of a hive. Elderly men 
 gathered in groups, lads went along arm in arm, 
 lasses laughed and flirted with their sweethearts, 
 and above the hum of stronger voices rose the clear 
 cries of children. Jabez heard nothing, heeded 
 no one ; his thoughts were far away. Leaving 
 the throng behind him, he strolled into the 
 churchyard. 
 
 He knew the grave among all the rest. It lay 
 in the sunny corner of the churchyard, and early 
 spring flowers, crocus and anemone, had already 
 been placed there by his hands. He stood for a 
 long time looking down upon it, and thinking of 
 the fragile form that slept below. At last, passing 
 his hand across his dim eyes, he loft the grave, and 
 regained the open road. 
 
 Again he followed the road up towards the moor, 
 and, after half an hour's walk, stood among the 
 upland grass and heather and looked back at 
 Deepdale. Sad and grief-worn as he was, his spirit 
 was now quite at peace. Fresh from the stress 
 of work and life, he enjoyed his own loneliness and 
 that of the beautiful scene surrounding him. 
 
 Many a time, he remembered, he had wandered 
 hither with Jael, he a tall, ungainly lad, she a 
 bright, laughing girl. Both were too young to 
 think of love, but he, the elder, felt something 
 Btirring in his heart which was to ripen in time to
 
 22 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 tender passion. He had followed his little play- 
 mate like her shadow, he had obeyed like a slave 
 the slightest waving of her hand ; and then — and 
 then, afterwards, had come the knowledge that it 
 was all hopeless, and that the light in her young 
 eyes, the love in her young heart, was not for Mm ! 
 Well, it was all over; and his love still lived, 
 though Jael was dead. He would not have had it 
 otherwise. He felt, that still spring morning, that 
 were his life to be lived again, he would not change 
 it. She had trusted him even unto death. She 
 had left him her last blessing, and the care of 
 her little child. 
 
 As he turned to stroll homeward he heard the 
 sound of carriage wheels, and looking backward he 
 saw an open waggonette coming slowly along the 
 road which winds from distant Barford across 
 the moor. In Deepdale every one knew his neigh- 
 bour, and Jabez saw at a glance that the occupants 
 of the vehicle were strangers. Behind the driver 
 sat a lady of middle age, with a face worn but 
 beautiful, and by her side, looking eagerly out at 
 the prospect, stood a little dark-haired boy of three 
 or four. Opposite to her sat a black woman, clad 
 in the familiar costume of an Indian ayah, and 
 holding in her arms an infant child. 
 
 As Jabez stood on the roadside, the carriage 
 approached nearer. The sight of the Indian 
 woman sent the thought at once to India, and 
 called up the picture of wild scenes and terrible 
 events.
 
 LITTLE RACHEL, 23 
 
 "Who can they be ?" thought Jabez ; when, at 
 a word from the lady, the waggonette drew up, and 
 a clear, musical voice said — 
 
 " Do you belong to Deepdale ? " 
 
 Jabez looked up, met the lady's gaze, and 
 touched his hat respectfully. 
 
 "Yes, my lady. I work in 't mill. I'm overseer 
 to Mr. Dene." 
 
 The lady stood up in the carriage, shading her 
 eyes, and gazing towards the little town ; then, 
 glancing down again, she continued — 
 
 "I am going there — to the Vicarage. Can you 
 direct me to it ? " 
 
 " Nay, you can't miss it," replied Jabez. 
 "Follow t' road, and keep straight on past t' 
 church, and you'll see t' house before ye." He 
 added quickly, before she could sign to the driver 
 to go on, " Maybe you come from India ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied the lady, with some surprise. 
 
 " I thought so," said the overseer, glancing at 
 the Indian nurse. "Maybe, too, my lady, you 
 knew t' young captain. Master Dene's son?" 
 
 " I knew him well," replied the lady. " He was 
 an officer in my husband's regiment, and he fell 
 at Lucknow during the siege. He died side by 
 side with my husband. Colonel Hollis, of the Forty- 
 First." 
 
 "And his wife, my lady — his poor wife — be it 
 true, as we ha' heard, that she be dead too ? " 
 
 Mrs. Hollis looked in surprise at the rough fellow 
 in his working clothes, who, as he spoke, stretched
 
 24 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 out his bands in agitation, and trembled witb 
 sympatby. 
 
 " It is quite true," sbe answered sadly. " That 
 is wby I bave come bere. I am bringing bome ber 
 cbild." 
 
 As sbe glanced at tbe infant in tbe ayab's arms, 
 Jabez climbed up on tbe step bebind tbe vebicle, 
 and followed tbe direction of ber eyes. Tbe 
 cbild, a beautiful infant of only a few montbs 
 old, was sleeping peacefully in its nurse's lap. 
 
 " Did you know Captain Dene ? " asked Mrs. 
 Hollis, gently. 
 
 " Ay, my lady, I knew bim well ; and bis wife, 
 too, poor lass, poor lass! And tbis be tbeir bairn? 
 Wonderful — wonderful ! Brougbt bome like t' 
 baby boy, tbe cbild o' our poor Jael." 
 
 Tbe lady noticed witb surprise tbat bis eyes, 
 full of tears, looked witb infinite regret and tender- 
 ness upon tbe infant, wbile bis lips murmured 
 Bometbing tbat sounded like a blessing. Tbe 
 next moment be leapt down, and stood barebeaded 
 in tbe road, watcbing tbe waggonette as it drove 
 on. Tbe lady looked back and nodded. Jabez 
 waved bis band. Tbe little boy, leaning over 
 tbe back of tbe carriage, watcbed bim and 
 laugbed. 
 
 " Wonderful ! wonderful ! " muttered tbe over- * 
 seer to bimself, as be followed tbem down tbe 
 road. " Two bairns come bome out o' t' cruel 
 war — Captain's little daughter, and Jael's little 
 Jack. Minds me o' t' flowers new-blowing on t'
 
 LITTLE RACHEL. 2$ 
 
 poor lass's grave i' the cliurcbyard ! Well, ^vcll, 
 out o' death comes life, as parson says." 
 
 Before Jabez Pryke could carry his news home 
 to the Heywoods, Mrs. Hollis had reached the 
 Vicarage and had told her story to Mr. Lyster. 
 She was the widow, as the reader has already 
 heard, of Colonel Hollis, the commanding officer 
 of the fighting Forty-First. The boy who accom- 
 panied her was her only son. The baby girl, 
 already christened Eachel, was the child of Captain 
 Jacob Dene, and Lucy Lyster his wife, brought 
 back to England in accordance with a sacred 
 pledge given to the poor mother before she died. 
 That fragile snowdrop was all that remained to 
 attest that the young soldier and his wife had ever 
 been. 
 
 While the vicar, divided between joy and sorrow, 
 held his little grandchild in his arms, Jabez Pryke, 
 half a mile away, was bending over little Jack, and 
 Jasper and Joan Heywood looked on in wonder 
 and delight. Before the life that comes, the life 
 that is buried becomes forgotten, and all they saw 
 now was the light in the eyes of the boy poor Jael 
 had left behind. 
 
 *' Mother, look ! " cried Jabez, holding out his 
 forefinger to the crowing boy. ** Isna t' bairn t' 
 living image o' poor Jael ? God bless him and gie 
 him good luck for her sake ! " 
 
 " Amen to that, Jabez," responded Joan. " And 
 t' little one you saw up yonder — poor Miss Lucy's 
 lass — does she favour her mother, too ? "
 
 26 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 " Nay, mother, I knew not. She were just like 
 a white snowdrop blooming on t' black wench's 
 heart. I had naut but a glimpse, but she seemed 
 as pretty as God makes little childer." 
 
 There was a long pause ; then Joan said, with 
 a look of tender inspiration, "Little lass and little 
 lad! Suppose t' Lord, by-and-by, should bring 
 they two together ! " 
 
 Jasper Heywood, seated in his armchair, and 
 lighting his pipe, looked up and grinned. 
 
 "There thou art, mother! At it again, like all 
 t' women ! They'd ha' marrying and wedding 
 among bairns i' the cradle, if they had their foolish 
 way, wouldn't they, Jabez ? Why, woman alive, 
 little lass, yonder, will grow up a proud lady, 
 while little Jack here will ha' to work wi' his hands 
 like you and me." 
 
 Jabez answered, still looking gently at the child, 
 * Maybo, maybe ! " But, God willing, and you 
 two helping, t' little man shall ha' learning, and 
 maybe he'll grow up a gentleman, after all." 
 
 Before many hours had passed the news had 
 spread all over the place, and formed the only 
 theme of that Saturday half-holiday. It was 
 discussed at every fireside, and many another 
 single woman, as if to illustrate Jasper Heywood's 
 estimate of the sex, uttered some such prophesy, 
 or forethought, as that expressed by Joan. 
 
 Meantime, in the natural course of things, word 
 of Mrs. Hollis's arrival had been passed from the 
 Yicarage up to the Oaks. First to hear it, in her 
 
 \ 
 I'
 
 LITTLE RACHEL. 27 
 
 husband's absence, was Susannah Dene. Her 
 carriage was at the door, and away she drove at 
 once till she reached the Vicarage ; then, leaving 
 her years behind her, she sprang out, and rushing 
 into the house, descended with tears and cries, 
 and inarticulate expressions of delight, upon her 
 grandchild. 
 
 She introduced herself, sans ceremonie, to Mrs. 
 Hollis — made love to little Ealph, and friends even 
 with the aj^ah. 
 
 Then nothing would do but the vicar, Mrs. 
 Hollis, the boy, the ayah, and the baby must come 
 at once to the Oaks, where Jacob Dene was now 
 to be found. 
 
 At sight of his son's child the stern man burst 
 into tears. When at length an eventful evening 
 came to an end, the vicar could not find it in his 
 heart to deprive Mrs. Dene of the child, who took 
 up her abode henceforth at the Oaks, to become 
 the heiress of the Denes. 
 
 Although the scion of a noble house, Mrs. HolKs 
 was a lonely woman, for her brother-in-law, the 
 Earl of Beauchamp, had been very much opposed 
 to her marriage with his brother Ealph. She, 
 therefore, wisely accepted an offer to keep house 
 thenceforth for the vicar, which was a sensible 
 arrangement for everybody concerned, inasmuch 
 as she contributed three hundred pounds a year 
 towards Mr. Lyster's slender income, and found a 
 home for herself and her fatherless boy. 
 
 The weft of life is ever woven with the warp of
 
 28 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 sorrow; the one serves to accentuate the other 
 with a keener pleasure, or a deeper pain. Thence 
 there was joy in Deepdale that the poor siege- 
 children lived, and sorrow that their parents had 
 died ; but the joy abided, and the sorrow in time 
 was forgotten by all, save the one faithful heart 
 which bewailed now, as it would bewail for ever, 
 the lost love of his youth. 
 
 But, although he sorrowed, Jabez, the overseer, 
 did not sorrow without hope. He had now some- 
 thing to live for — Jack's child henceforth the child 
 of his adoption. 
 
 As for the Denes and the vicar, their dead 
 children lived again in the little Eachel. 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 TWO LADS AND A LASS. 
 
 Do you know Deepdale ? Do you know the 
 splendid Yorkshire valley, surrounded on every 
 side by green or heathery hills, watered by a rapid 
 river, and bearing in its bosom the cleanest and 
 happiest of little manufacturing towns? If you 
 have ever passed that way, down the open moor- 
 land, into the clean, carefully-kept streets, past 
 the great many-windowed, many-chimneyed mills, 
 among the cottages and well-tended gardens, from 
 the church to the Vicarage, from the Vicarage to
 
 TIVO LADS AND A LASS. a^ 
 
 the fine home of the mills' master, you will under- 
 staDd how Eachel Dene, as she grew up, learned 
 to love the place and its people, and to think there 
 was no such pleasant home in all the world. 
 
 It was the boast of Jacob Dene that his con- 
 nection with the place and people was quite 
 patriarchal. He had made it, and kept it, what 
 it was, a model for the world. The thriftless, the 
 idle, the vicious, and the depraved drifted away 
 from Deepdale like scum from the lips of a summer 
 sea; they were out of place there, and found no 
 congenial associations. Industry, cleanliness, and 
 sobriety were the order of the day. The old 
 Quaker saw to it all. He would have no vagabonds 
 among his people. He was kind and liberal to 
 those who set a good example, but stern to the 
 undeserving. 
 
 Through the centre of this Arcadian valley, up 
 through the waving moorland, Eachel Dene rode 
 one summer day, in company with Ralph Hollis — 
 she upon a high-mettled and slender little cob, ho 
 upon an almost thoroughbred mare. They had 
 been cantering and trotting along for a couple of 
 hours, full of high spirits, health, and youth ; for 
 Eachel was now nineteen, and Ealph only a few 
 years older. 
 
 They were following a bridle-path along the 
 river-side, and walking their horses, whilst they 
 kept up an animated conversation. 
 
 "How pretty it looks!" cried the girl, gazing 
 from her saddle on the sunny scene around her.
 
 30 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 "I think there is no place in the world half so 
 beautiful." 
 
 "A pity, is it not," returned Ealph, "that it is 
 disfigured by the smoke and dirt of the dingy mills ? 
 I hate manufactures and manufacturing places." 
 
 "Nay, there thou art wrong," said Eachel, in 
 the quaint Quaker phraseology she had learnt from 
 her grandfather, and which so well became her 
 pretty lips. " I love the mills and the town best 
 of all. Think how many mouths the mills feed, 
 how many happy homes they make ! They're like 
 a kind, hard-working mother to us all ! " 
 
 The young man laughed somewhat con- 
 temptuously. 
 
 "I don't understand that kind of sentiment. 
 The place, as such places go, is well enough, no 
 doubt ; but I confess I love more gaiety and more 
 life. Deepdale is so dismal and so dull. Even 
 on Sundays the people look begrimed as troglodytes 
 living in the bowels of the earth, and the women 
 work so hard it makes them ill-favoured." 
 
 Eachel laughed and shook her head. 
 
 "There we diifer again," she answered. "I 
 often think — 'tis foolish, but very true — that if I 
 hadn't been my father's daughter, I would have 
 loved to toil hard, and be one of the peoi^le." 
 
 "A worker in the mills ! Fancy you dressed in 
 homespun like a mill-girl! Fancy you being 
 courted like a mill-girl by some fellow with coarse 
 bands and coarser speech ! " 
 
 Eachel flushed, and cried, "I was not talking
 
 TJVO LADS AND A LASS. 31 
 
 of courtship, sir ! But I would not care for a 
 man's bands if his heart were clean ! " 
 
 As she spoke she started, and flushed a deeper 
 red. Approaching her along the river-side was a 
 figure she knew well, that of a lad of about her 
 own age, clad in a rough working suit, and carr}'- 
 ing a fishing-rod and a small creel. 
 
 ** 'Tis Jack Heywood ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 " So it is," answered Ealph, with the slightest 
 shade of a frown. " Shirking his work, and 
 angling — profitable occupation ! " 
 
 Eachel beckoned, and Jack came up smiling. 
 He was a fresh, hearty-looking lad, strong and 
 erect, with a look of self-reliance. He lifted his 
 hat to the riders, and stood looking eagerly at 
 Eachel. 
 
 " I have got an afternoon's holiday," he said, 
 ** and am trying my luck with the fly ; but the sun 
 is too bright for angling." 
 
 ** Are you all well at home ? " 
 
 " Yes, Miss Rachel." 
 
 *' I must come over soon, and see thy grand- 
 mother. Thou knowest. Jack, thou and I ar^j 
 almost like brother and sister — the two siege- 
 bairns, as the people call us, for the same trouble 
 left us both in the world alone." 
 
 " Shall we get on ? " said Ealph, impatiently. 
 *' Isly mare is restless." 
 
 Eachel nodded, and, with a light look and nod at 
 Jack, rode on with her companion. Scarcely had 
 they ridden out of earshot when Ealph, bending
 
 32 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 towards her, said, with a short laugh, "There's 
 one of your hard-handed ones. Do you not thank 
 your good fortune that you are so different ? " 
 
 *' Nay, indeed," answered Eachel, with a look of 
 surprise. " My grandfather tells me that Jack is 
 the cleverest boy in Deepdale ! " 
 
 "Jack! That's familiar." 
 
 *' And why not ? I almost feel as if he were my 
 brother. We are both motherless and fatherless, 
 and our lots are so much alike." 
 
 " I hope they are very different." 
 
 '* And we were friends when children. Thou, 
 too, wast his friend. Thou hast a right to like 
 him." 
 
 *' So I do, in his way ; but his way is not mine, 
 Eachel. Look at the mare, how she pricks her 
 ears ; she thinks I am speaking of her. Come, 
 shall we cross the moor, and gallop ? " 
 
 Eachel nodded, and leaving the roadside, they 
 came to a stretch of grass and heather, and 
 hastened along side by side. 
 
 The years had come and gone, until some nine- 
 teen had passed away. Eachel had entwined 
 herself round the hearts of the mill-owner and his 
 wife until she had become the light and life of 
 their desolate home. Nor was she less dear to the 
 old vicar — for she reminded him of the wife and 
 of the daughter he had lost. The same doves' 
 eyes, the same sunny hair, the same fairy-like 
 elastic figure, the same laugh, the very voice — 
 came back again.
 
 T^VO LADS AND A LASS. 33 
 
 Ealpli HoUis had grown into a strikingly hand- 
 some young man, of bright but unstable parts, and 
 petulant temper. He was an apt pupil when the 
 mood took him — but he was wayward and fractious 
 — and somewhat trying to his over-indulgent tutor 
 and his doting mother. This lad might be led, but 
 never driven. Of all his circle of acquaintances, 
 the one who could lead him the easiest was Eaehel 
 Dene, who reigned over him, even as she reigned 
 at the Oaks, with autocratic, but benevolent sway. 
 
 As the years grew with her growth — the two 
 old men — her father's father and the father of her 
 mother — loved the girl more and more — while in 
 her young and innocent delight, the poor mother's 
 youth lived again. At first, indeed, they had 
 loved the child because she reminded them of the 
 loved and lost. As the years progressed, they 
 loved her for herself — not because she was by any 
 means a paragon, but simply because she was true, 
 and simple, and honest, and because she loved 
 them deeply in return. 
 
 She was not a young person of advanced culture 
 or remarkable beauty. Her accomplishments were 
 of quite an ordinary character ; but, take her all 
 in all, she was adorable, as only a pretty Quakeress 
 can be. Her fiigure was slender, straight, and 
 well balanced, giving indications that at its 
 maturity it would leave little to be desired in the 
 way of symmetry. Her complexion was pale, but 
 transparent as alabaster ; and when her heart 
 or emotions were touched, her cheeks flushed a 
 
 D
 
 34 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 pearl-like pink, wliicli quickened into loveliness. 
 Her head was crowned with a wreath of hair which 
 Bhimmered from lightest brown into ripest gold; 
 square brow, dark eyebrows, and dark lashes ; 
 eyes grey ; short, straight nose, with the slightest 
 suspicion of a tip-tilt at the end ; ripe rosy lips, 
 and a firm set chin, which seemed to indicate that, 
 should the emergency arise, she miglit have a will 
 of her own. 
 
 The emergency had not arisen as yet. 
 
 She it was who wrote the paternal grandpa's 
 letters — wrote them, too, in a good, round, read- 
 able hand, none of your feeble Italian scrawls. 
 She it was who took grandma's tea up every 
 morning, and relieved her of the cares of house- 
 keeping ; who visited the sick, and relieved the 
 needy of the valley ; assisted the maternal grandpa 
 at Sunday school and Dorcas Society; and who, 
 in point of fact, played Lady Bountiful Junior in 
 Deepdale. 
 
 Not that her life was monopolized by these duties, 
 for she had a notion that life was pleasant, and 
 that the world was beautiful, and she enjoyed the 
 spring-time of both. She it was who induced the 
 old people to open their doors, and their hearts, 
 to their friends ; and it was astonishing how much 
 pleasanter the Denes found it than shutting them- 
 selves up in their former insular exclusiveness. 
 
 As for Ealph Hollis, the master of the mills felt 
 bound to do something for the lad, if only because 
 his mother had brought, almost out of the jaws of
 
 nVO LADS AND A LASS. 35 
 
 death, the angel who made Jacob's home happy. 
 Mrs. HolHs wanted to send the boy for a term or 
 two to Oxford, but considerations of expense inter- 
 vened. Jacob had had enough of Oxford ; he had 
 sent his own boy there, with the result already 
 described. No; he would put Ealph into the 
 counting-house. ' 
 
 " The rest," he said, *' would depend on himself." 
 
 " The rest " is a vague phrase, which might 
 mean anything or nothing. It might, however, 
 mean a partnership in the firm. Perchance — who 
 knew ? — a marriage with the heiress of Deepdale ! 
 
 In the end, the mother concluded to let Ealph 
 go to the counting-house, not, it is feared, to that 
 young gentleman's delight, nor very much, in the 
 long run, to Jacob Dene's satisfaction. 
 
 Jack Heywood was a horse of another colour, 
 both figuratively and literally. Ealph was dark, 
 and somewhat saturnine ; Jack was fair and frank, 
 with sunny hair and laughing eyes, eyes of English 
 blue. Ealph was slender, elegant, and taU ; Jack 
 was equally tall, but he was stalwart, and, for his 
 age, was the best swimmer, oarsman, rider, leaper, 
 runner, cricket-player, boxer, and wrestler in the 
 valley of Deepdale or the West Eiding. Ealph 
 was indolent ; Jack was industrious. Ealph was a 
 great smoker, and fond, already too fond, of his 
 wine ; Jack detested the smell of tobacco, and did 
 not care for wine. Ealph, like Eob Eoy, despised 
 " weavers, and spinners, and a' sic mechanical 
 persons." Jack was a born inventor, and proud
 
 36 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 of his craft. Ealph disliked books ; Jack liked 
 them. He had learnt all that Jabez could teach 
 him of mechanics, and had now left his master 
 behind. Not that he was a book-worm — not the 
 least little bit. 
 
 Having enumerated their points of divergence, 
 it is satisfactory to note one or two points on 
 which these lads agreed. They both had a passion 
 for horses — all Yorkshiremen have. Ealph had a 
 horse of his own, or, rather, a mare, which he 
 called after Eachel; and a beauty she was, as 
 indeed she ought to be, considering the price she 
 cost Mrs. Hollis. Jack had picked up a rough- 
 looking cob at Wakefield horse fair for five or six 
 pounds, and had groomed him to such perfection, 
 that Jabez, as he called him, ran Eachel very hard 
 whenever he got the chance. Finally, both lads 
 were unanimous in their admiration for Eachel 
 Dene. 
 
 Mrs. Hollis had but one object in life — to seo 
 her son happy, beloved, admired. To her, he was 
 everything. In him her dead husband, the lover 
 of her youth, lived again. A mother's love blinded 
 her to his faults, and, as we have hinted, they 
 were many. 
 
 To be just to the lad, he was devoted to her 
 beyond all things, but he was wrong-headed and 
 strong-headed. Moreover, he was a little im- 
 patient at his lot in life. He thought it hard that 
 he, the heir-apparent to an earldom — for his uncle 
 Algernon; though on the shady side of sixty, was
 
 TIVO LADS AND A LASS. 37 
 
 still a bachelor — should be condemned to a seat in 
 the counting-house, instead of one in the House of 
 Lords. The thought of Eachel, however, curbed 
 his impatience, and he did his best to fulfil his 
 duties, though it must be admitted that bad was 
 his best. 
 
 There was another mother who also kept watch 
 and ward over her boy. I have said " another 
 mother " advisedly, for as Jack approached man- 
 hood Joan saw in him the image of her dead son ; 
 and as he grew day by day more like her first-born, 
 he found in her all a mother's care, she in him a 
 son's devotion. 
 
 He had his way in everything, however. He 
 was just as honest, tender, and true, and just as 
 petulant and as pugnacious as his father had been 
 before him. Jasper Heywood, too, was as proud 
 of the lad as he had been of his own son Jack. As 
 for Jabez, we have already referred to the pure, 
 unselfish devotion of this single-minded, simj^le 
 fellow for his dead sweetheart's son. 
 
 Meanwhile, while Ealph smoked, drank, and 
 idled. Jack worked and learnt. At fourteen he was 
 put on to assist his grandfather in looking after 
 the machinery at the mills ; for Jasper was a 
 practical engineer, and foreman in his depart- 
 ment. 
 
 Now, Jack had a positive genius for mechanics 
 of every description. In twelve months' time there 
 was not a bolt, a bar, a pin, a spring, a strap, that 
 he had not mastered the mystery of ; while as for
 
 38 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 steam-power, hydraulics, electricity, and cliemistry, 
 he had them at his fingers' ends. 
 
 From childhood he had been a visitor at the 
 great house. He and Eachel and Ealph had 
 played together as if they had been brothers and 
 sister — that is to say, up to a certain period. At 
 last " the pale spectrum of the salt " began to cast 
 a shadow between them. Ealph was a born gentle- 
 man, the son of a distinguished officer ; Eachel was 
 born a lady, daughter of a man of fortune; she 
 was, moreover, an heiress. Jack was the son of 
 a private soldier ; moreover, he was a mechanic, a 
 man doomed to live by the sweat of his brow and 
 the work of his hands. So, for that matter, he 
 reflected sometimes, was Eichard Arkwright, and 
 so was Eobert Stephenson. 
 
 Jabez was wont to say, "Dreams, my lad — 
 idle dreams." 
 
 " Let me dream while I may, Jabez," the lad 
 replied. '* Perhaps I shall wake "^ome day and 
 find myself famous, and then you'll be proud of 
 your pupil." 
 
 " I shall always be proud of him. Jack, and 
 when you are a great man you'll still find a corner 
 in your heart for the old folk and Jabez ? " 
 
 "Always, Jabez," cried the boy, with his 
 mother's eyes. 
 
 Left alone on the roadside, young Heywood 
 Btood watching the form of Eachel until it disap- 
 peared. Then he threw down his fishing-rod and
 
 A GAME AT LAWN-TENNIS. 39 
 
 sat down in a brown study, looking at the stream. 
 No more fishing for liim that day. He was him- 
 self in too deep water. 
 
 Though only a lad of nineteen, he looked some 
 years older, and he had all the manners and 
 appearance of a man. 
 
 " They may come to favour each other some 
 day," Joan had said -when he was an infant, 
 speaking of himself and little Kachel ; and part, 
 at least, of the prediction had come to pass. Ho 
 was as hopelessly in love as ever boy could be with 
 Eachel Dene. 
 
 " Brother and sister ? " he muttered, echoing 
 her words and shaking his curly head. Then he 
 looked down at his coarse dress and hard, toil- 
 worn hands, and felt quite hopeless and despairing. 
 He might have been comforted a little had he 
 known how eagerly Eachel, just before they met, 
 had been discoursing to her companion, with 
 "coarse hands " for a text. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 A GAME AT LAWN-TENNIS. 
 
 It was a lovely summer afternoon, and there was 
 a lawn-tennis party at the Oaks, to which some 
 of the young people of the neighbourhood had 
 been invited. 
 
 Of course, Ealph Hollis and his mother were
 
 40 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 there, and the vicar and his curate; then there 
 were Jack Vipont, the squire's son, fresh from 
 Oxford, and his sister Julia ; young Eaggett, 
 the civil engineer ; and Wilkinson, the solicitor. 
 Besides these, Ealph had got invitations for 
 Captain Fitzherhert, and two or three of the 
 officers of his father's old regiment, the fighting 
 Forty-First, who happened to be quartered at 
 Barford, hard by. The young man was great 
 friends with these curly plungers — dined at mess 
 with them, and afterwards adjourned to the rooms 
 of some of the younger blood to play baccarat or 
 poker. 
 
 They were having a pleasant time of it that 
 afternoon, when Jack Heywood, accompanied by 
 his grandfather and Jabez Pryke, called by ap- 
 pointment to show Jacob Dene a new invention 
 which was to revolutionize the manufacture of 
 alpaca. 
 
 The interview took place in the great man's 
 Btudy, and Jabez was the first spokesman. 
 
 "It be most all Jack's work. Jasper and I 
 helped him a bit, but he worked the idea out for 
 hissen mostly. The lad's a born talent for using 
 cogs and wheels. Jack, show Mr. Dene how the 
 machine works." 
 
 Jack blushed, and did as he was bid, 
 
 " Thou art a boy," said the Quaker. " 'Tis but 
 a boy's work, after all." 
 
 " We must all be boys sometime," replied Jabez, 
 laughing. " Jack here's one in a thousand, master.
 
 A GAME AT LAWN-TENNIS, 41 
 
 We're both born fools to him, Jasper, his grand- 
 fey ther, and me ! " 
 
 Jacob inspected the model, and hummed and 
 haa'd as Jack put it in motion. 
 
 <' Very ingenious indeed ! And what dost thou 
 calculate will be the nett result of this pretty 
 
 toy ? " 
 
 "Only an economy of labour and material 
 amounting to about cent, per cent. — that is all ! " 
 replied the lad, sturdily. 
 
 "Thou art reckoning thy chickens, lad, before 
 they're hatched," replied the old Quaker. 
 
 " Perhaps so, sir ; but I'm going to try to hatch 
 'em somewhere or other." 
 
 " Well, send the model to my office at the mills, 
 and we'll see what we can do with it in the course 
 of a few months." 
 
 "Beg pardon, sir," answered Jack, "but I can't 
 do that. It has to go to town to-morrow to be 
 registered at the Patent Office, and thence to the 
 Manchester Exhibition." 
 
 " Thou art a self-reliant youth ! " said Jacob 
 Dene, astonished. 
 
 "I've no one but myself to rely on, sir; and 
 I've been taught to believe that God helps those 
 who help themselves." 
 
 " That's true. Well, since thou art here, thou 
 hadst best come round to the lawn, and see thy 
 old playfellow, Piachel. Thou knowest she's always 
 glad to see thee." 
 
 Jack was not so sure of that. He knew that
 
 42 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 there was a time when Eachel was really glad to 
 see him, but that time was past and gone. Yet, 
 after all, if the invention were to strike fire ? Ah, 
 if it were ? 
 
 Jacob chatted pleasantly enough as he led the 
 way to the lawn-tennis ground. Jack's face 
 flushed, as ripples of laughter and pleasant sounds 
 broke upon his ear ; above all, when he heard one 
 voice, the voice he could tell out of a thousand. 
 
 The sight was pleasant enough to look at. 
 Twenty or thirty young people of both sexes loafed 
 about without formality, chatting or flirting as 
 the case might be ; some playing at tennis on the 
 lawn, others disporting themselves amongst the 
 greenery and flowers in shrubbery or summer- 
 houses. The girls, in their quaint Kate Green- 
 away dresses and straw hats, lightened up here 
 and there with a brilliant bunch of ribbons ; the 
 young men in their flannels of vivid and varied 
 colours, sashes, canvas shoes, and straw hats. 
 
 How bright, and simple, and natural, and 
 unaffected it all seemed ; and yet, as Jack Heywood 
 looked at it, what a gulf intervened between him 
 and every one else there ! 
 
 He stood alone on the edge of the lawn, look- 
 ing at the play, while his graudsire and Jabez 
 approached, with difiidence, to pay their respects 
 to Mrs. Dene, who was in an arbour dispensing 
 afternoon tea. 
 
 Within a stone's throw of Jack, with their backs 
 turned to him, stood a young couple, talking
 
 A GAME AT LAWN-TENNIS. 43 
 
 together. He had no need to see their faces to 
 tell him who they were. 
 
 "Eachel," said the youth, "you are coming to 
 dine at the Yicarage to-morrow ? " 
 
 "I suppose so," she replied indifferently. 
 
 " Don't say * suppose.' You will come." 
 
 ** Grandpa has promised." 
 
 " I'm glad of that. You know that to-morrow 
 is my birthday ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I shall be one and twenty. May I speak to 
 Mr. Dene ? " 
 
 "■ Of course thou mayst speak to him," she 
 replied simply. 
 
 " Don't say * of course ' in that cold-blooded way. 
 You know what I want to speak to him about." 
 
 " About going into the army, I suppose ? But 
 you must not ! " 
 
 *' Confound the army ! I want to speak to him 
 about you. You won't understand me ! Surely, 
 you must feel — you must know, that I can't live 
 without you." 
 
 At this moment the ball came whizzing past 
 them, and as Ealph turned in the effort to stop it, 
 he came face to face with Jack Heywood. 
 
 " Hallo, Heywood ! " he said, with the slightest 
 shade of pique in his voice. " What the deuce 
 brings you here ? " 
 
 " My legs," replied Jack, laughing. 
 
 Rachel, too, laughed at the reply, as she shook 
 hands with the young workman.
 
 44 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 At this moment the game finished. 
 
 " Wilt thou stand in with me for the next 
 game ? " inquired Eachel, with a smile. 
 
 "Nay," answered Jack; "I don't play tennis. 
 If it were cricket, now " 
 
 "Ah, if it were ! I've seen thee hold the wicket 
 against all comers," 
 
 "Eachel, may I bring you a cup of tea?" 
 inquired Ealph, nervously. 
 
 " Nay, thanks ; I'm going to take tea with Mr. 
 Heywood. Come along " (Jack, she was going to 
 say, but she thought better or worse of it), — " come 
 along, Mr. Heywood," she continued, "and grand- 
 ma will be glad to see thee. And how is the 
 wonderful invention getting on ? " 
 
 As they approached Mrs. Dene and her al fresco 
 tea-table, Ealph turned angrily away towards his 
 mother, who was dispensing tea, and more sub- 
 stantial refreshments, at the opposite end of the 
 lawn. 
 
 Watching her opportunity, she whispered, " Well, 
 have you made the most of your opportunities, 
 Ealph?" 
 
 " I have ; but she holds me on, and keeps me o£f, 
 until I feel inclined to throw it up altogether." 
 
 "Foolish boy ! Throw up ten thousand a-year, 
 and the prettiest girl in Yorkshire ! " 
 
 "It's of no use; I can't get her to come to the 
 point. Just as we were coming to cues, up comes 
 that lout of a Jack Heywood, and she declares on 
 to him immediately, leaving me in the lurch."
 
 A GAME AT LAWN-TENNIS. 45 
 
 " You can't suppose that she has any proclivities 
 in that direction ? " 
 
 " I don't know. One would think not, for she is 
 of gentle blood on both sides, while he belongs 
 to the scum ; but women are so confoundedly 
 foxy." 
 
 ** Methinks a gentleman might remember," 
 said the widow, severely, "that his mother is a 
 woman." 
 
 " Of course he does. You don't suppose that he 
 thinks his mother is a man ? " 
 
 *'No; but he sometimes forgets that his father 
 was a gentleman, and that he owes something to 
 his father's name." 
 
 Kalph laughed, and kissed her. 
 
 "Forgive me, you old darling; but I'm riled, 
 and when I'm riled I'm forgetful even of what I 
 owe to the best of mothers." 
 
 "Ah, Ralph, Ealph," she said, "you don't know 
 how I love you ! " 
 
 " Yes, I do, mother ; but I suppose I inherit my 
 father's temper as well as his name. So bear with 
 me, for dad's sake." 
 
 While this conversation was going on at one end 
 of the lawn, at the other, Jasper, Jabez, and Jack 
 were being patronized by tho world in general — 
 that is to say, by everybody but the Denes. 
 
 The three men were in their Sunday go-to- 
 meeting get-up, and in their dark rustic clothes 
 and stove-pipe hats looked singularly out of place 
 amongst these gay young people, in their airy and
 
 46 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 graceful costumes. To be sure, Mrs. Dene put 
 them a bit at their ease. To her, Jack was still 
 Jack, Jabez was Jabez, and Jasper, Jasper. 
 
 A muster of young men and women declared 
 on to Kachel. She was obliged to be civil to 
 everybody. So once more poor Jack found himself 
 alone, chewing the cud of pleasant memories — 
 memories which served to deepen the bitterness of 
 his present loneliness. He recalled the time when, 
 as children, they went out bird's-nesting ; the time, 
 too, when Burnside Beck was swollen, and the 
 plank bridge broken down. Had he not carried 
 her on his back, breast-high, through the water ? 
 Had they not rolled and romped in the new-mown 
 hay when bairns ? And once, while still children, 
 and beyond the eyes of the prudish Jacob, had she 
 not called him out at kiss-in-the-ring ? That 
 virgin kiss was still burning on his lips, while she 
 had become a great lady, and he was only a poor 
 operative. 
 
 Ralph, too, who used to be a bright, friendly 
 boy, was changed. Yet how Jack envied him ! 
 Lost in a brown study, Jack found himself 
 brought, by sheer accident, in contact with Mrs. 
 Hollis. 
 
 Smiling sweetly upon him, she opened fire. 
 
 "Ah, Mr. Hey wood, it is an age since I have 
 geen you ! "What brings you here to-day ? " 
 
 "I came to show my model to the master." 
 
 " You've seen my son, I suppose ? " 
 
 *'Yes."
 
 A GAME AT LAIVN-TENXIS. 47 
 
 ** Do you know that to-morrow is his birth- 
 day?" 
 
 "I've heard so." 
 
 " We have a dinner-party at the Vicarage in 
 honour of the occasion — Mr. and Mrs. Dene, and 
 Ealph's intended bride." 
 
 "His intended bride?" echoed Jack. "And 
 who is that, pray ? " 
 
 " Don't you know ? " 
 
 " Nay, indeed." 
 
 " I thought everybody knew that my Ealph was 
 going to marry Miss Dene." 
 
 The lad shrank as if from a blow. 
 
 "Yes, it is so," answered Mrs. Hollis. "I wish 
 you'd come in to-morrow night after dinner to my 
 room, and drink to Ealph's health." 
 
 Jack was silent ; his lips felt dry as dust. 
 
 "Eemember, too, if my son can help you in 
 any way — if he can advance your prospects in 
 life " 
 
 She did not finish the sentence, for Jack was 
 gone. He was seen no more that night. 
 
 At midnight it commenced to rain, and kept 
 raining until daybreak. The sun was striving to 
 emerge from the clouds when Jack turned up at the 
 cottage, pale and wan as a ghost. 
 
 Joan Heywood had been up all night awaiting 
 him. 
 
 " What's the matter, hinney ? " she tenderly 
 inquired. 
 
 " Nothing, grannie."
 
 48 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 "Eh, lad, you may tell that to the men, who, 
 although they know thou'st gotten a hard head, 
 never guess thou'st gotten a soft heart. It's 
 summat about her, for sure — I know it is. Eest 
 thy head here, lad — here, where it has rested when 
 thou wert nobbut but a bonnie wee bit bairnie. 
 That's reet. Now, lad, what is it ? " 
 
 " Oh, grannie, she's going to wed Ealph Hollis ! " 
 
 " Who told thee so ? " 
 
 " His mother." 
 
 " Dunna believe her. T' lass knows t' difference 
 'twixt a man and a mannikin." 
 
 "Oh, grannie, grannie," cried the lad, "you 
 don't know how I love her ! " 
 
 And he fell into a passion of tears. 
 
 " That's reet, lad— that's reet. It'll tak' f sore- 
 ness out of thy heart. Look — look yonder ! Dost 
 see t' rainbow stealing out o' t' clouds, while t' 
 mists of t' neet are meltin' into mornin' ? That's 
 a good sign— a grand sign for thee, lad. And just 
 listen to t' birds; they are singin' a weddin' march. 
 Tak' heart, lad — tak' heart." 
 
 *' I will, grannie — I will." 
 
 And he did take heart, as we shall see.
 
 ( 49 ) 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE GKEAT INVENTION. 
 
 Jack Heywood might have spared his tears ; his 
 alarm was altogether premature. Jacob Dene 
 held the opinion that all men are equal, that wars 
 are detestable, and that money is the merest 
 dross. This was all very well in theory ; but, 
 although our good Jacob called himself a Quaker, 
 and " thee'd " and " thou'd " his friends, and was, 
 for that matter, of amiable and peace-loving dis- 
 position, yet he was an aristocrat at heart, and 
 one fully alive to the value of this world's goods. 
 If he ever contemplated the marriage of his grand- 
 daughter, he looked much higher than Ealph 
 Hollis for a suitable husband. 
 
 "With the shrewdness of his class, moreover, he 
 saw pretty deeply into the young man's character. 
 He knew him to be a bad man of business, a light 
 thinker, and the companion of other light thinkers ; 
 and though he tolerated him for his mother's sake, 
 he entertained no very exalted hopes of his future. 
 He was shrewd enough, of course, to perceive 
 what the match-making mother had in contem- 
 plation ; but he simply shrugged his shoulders 
 and made no sign. He had perfect confidence in 
 the good sense of Rachel, who was clearly not 
 heart-struck yet. 
 
 The birthday party passed off without any sign
 
 so 
 
 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 or omen. The subject nearest to the heart of 
 Mrs. Hollis was never broached; she also per- 
 ceived that the time was not yet ripe. As may 
 naturally be supposed, she didn't for a moment 
 contemplate the possibility of her darling son ever 
 having a rival in Jack Heywood. Jack was only 
 a common lad, an operative — a nobody, in fact. 
 
 A year passed rapidly away. Ealph Hollis con- 
 tinued to dance attendance upon Eachel without 
 making any visible progress in his suit. Jack 
 Heywood, relieved from his first great fear, toiled 
 late and early at mechanics, and especially at his 
 favourite invention. 
 
 From week's end to week's end old Joan kept 
 the lad's heart up. 
 
 " Coorage, lad," she would say. " ' Faint heart 
 ne'er won fine lady,' as the saying is, and I'll back 
 thee 'gin any lad i' t' county." 
 
 A little love goes a long way in the world, and 
 Jack had a great deal, for besides Joan, Jasper 
 doted on his grandson, while Jabez loved him with 
 " a love beyond the love of woman." For the lone 
 man, this boy crystallized in one bright form the 
 lost love of his youth, the friend of his boyhood, 
 and the girl whom he had adored. To his mind, 
 no woman was too good or good enough for Jack ; 
 and it was a foregone conclusion with Jabez that 
 Eachel could never have the heart to say nay to 
 his boy when the good time came. 
 
 The great invention had been patented, and 
 exhibited at the Manchester Exhibition. One
 
 THE GREAT INVENTION. 51 
 
 moruing, to the dellglit, though not to the as- 
 tonishment, of Jack and his friends, came the 
 award of the Executive Committee, enclosing the 
 prize of a silver medal. By the same post came 
 a communication from the great firm of Briggs 
 and Boodlum, of Bridge Vale, requesting to know 
 Jack's terms for the application of his patent in 
 their extensive factories. 
 
 He was beside himself with delight when he 
 read the letter to grandfather and granny. Of 
 course, Joan gushed, and hugged, and cooed over 
 him. 
 
 "Let un alone, mother," said Jasper, the cynic. 
 " I can't aboar to see t' lad molly coddled i' that 
 way." 
 
 " Thee never was a mother, Jasper." 
 
 "No, nor a grandmother, neither. Now what 
 1 say is this. Of course t' old gaffer has a 
 reet to t' refusal of Jack's invention; but if he 
 doan't come to time, why then close at once, 
 my lad, wi' Briggs and Boodlum. What dost say, 
 Jack ? " 
 
 " Well, grandad," answered the lad, "I'd rather 
 hear what Jabez has to say." 
 
 And away ran the lad as hard as he could go to 
 the mills, and brought back Jabez with him, who 
 delivered himself thus oracularly. 
 
 " Why, for sure, I'd rather the honour and the 
 glory 0' the thing should be wi' our own hoel York- 
 shire than any other ; so suppose we go and have 
 a talk wi' Mr. Dene. But thou must muzzle thy
 
 52 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 mouth, Jasper, for tbe old man's apt to cut up 
 rough if you scratch him the wrong way." 
 
 So it was resolved, there and then, that they 
 should beard the Quaker lion in his den. 
 
 They got to the Oaks just after breakfast. 
 When they were shown into the library, the 
 "gaffer" was in the midst of the Times City 
 article. 
 
 Jabez was right — Jacob Dene was a difficult 
 person to deal with. He was a great man, in a 
 small way — a kind of paternal despot — who liked 
 to do kind and even generous things, but who 
 objected to being driven into them — indeed, he 
 could not bear his hand being forced. He not 
 only liked his own way, but his own way of having 
 it. 
 
 ''What brings ye here?" he inquired curtly. 
 "Anything wrong at the mills ? " 
 
 "Nay, sir," responded Jabez, "but our Jack 
 here has got the prize medal at the Exhibition, for 
 t' new invention, and he just thought you'd like to 
 have a look at it." 
 
 " Surely it doesn't want three big men to carry 
 a bit jimcrack of a medal," returned the old man, 
 curtly. 
 
 " It's no a bit jimcrack, sir; it weighs welly an 
 ounce." 
 
 " Nonsense, nonsense ! " cried the master. 
 " Well, hand it over, and let's see it. Hem ! I 
 congratulate thee, Jack Heywood. Well, what's 
 at back of medal ? "
 
 THE GREAT INVENTION. 53 
 
 ii rr 
 
 The inscription," responded Jack. 
 
 "I've seen the inscription, lad, but there's 
 something more than the inscription behind it. 
 Three great fellows have not come from the mills, 
 merely to show mo a medal." 
 
 Jack looked at Jabez, who stepped forward and 
 stammered, " Well, it be this, Mr. Dene," he said, 
 placing Briggs and Boodlum's letter in his hand. 
 
 Jacob read it, and flushed with anger. Then he 
 got up, and strode up and down the library in a 
 most un-Quaker-like manner. Having relieved his 
 mind by a little strong language, he cooled down 
 a little. 
 
 " This is most unhandsome, lads, and unbusiness 
 like ! The idea of Briggs and Boodlum coming 
 between me and my peo^Dle ! Well, if thou likest 
 to go, Jack, go, and luck go with thee. Abandon 
 thy old friends by all means — it's the way of the 
 world." 
 
 " But it isn't my way, sir," said Jack. *' The 
 letter only came an hour ago. How am I to 
 answer it ? " 
 
 " Answer it, lad ? " cried Jacob Dene. " Why 
 say thou'lt see Briggs and Boodlum further first ! 
 Say that Jacob Dene has secured the invention for 
 Deepdale Mills, on thy own terms ; that is to say," 
 continued the old man, warily drawing himself up, 
 " always provided that the invention works to 
 Jacob Dene's satisfaction. The first thing to be 
 done is to go and show this pretty thing (and it 
 is a pretty thing) to my wife Susanna, and her
 
 54 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 granddangliter ; the next, to order tlie machinery, 
 and see how it works, and then we'll arrange about 
 terms." 
 
 So saying, he led the way to the drawing-room, 
 where Kachel and her grandmother gave them all 
 a cordial welcome. Both ladies were delighted 
 with the medal. Finally Jacob rang for a bottle 
 of Madeira, and i^roposed success to Jack's in- 
 vention. 
 
 When they were about to leave, Eachel shook 
 hands with the lad, and said, smiling, *' I hope, 
 Mr. Heywood " 
 
 "You used to call me Jack once," he said. 
 
 "Well, then. Jack, I hope thy invention will 
 realize all thy desires." 
 
 "Do you really hope that?" whispered Jack. 
 
 "Yes, truly." 
 
 "If it does, I shall be the happiest lad in the 
 world." 
 
 As he looked her in the eyes, her face flushed 
 rosy red, but she turned away without another 
 word. 
 
 On their way back home Jasper and Jabez did 
 all the talking. When they got to the mills, the 
 two old fellows were in high spirits as they went 
 from room to room showing the medal. Lads and 
 lasses crowded round Jack, to congratulate him, 
 but he walked about as if he were in a dream. At 
 last he started off to the cottage, and ran every 
 step of the way. 
 
 Joan was making a pudding for the dinner.
 
 THE GREAT INVENTION. 55 
 
 ** Granny," said he, "the gaffer has arranged 
 for the invention." 
 
 " Good news, lad — good news ! " 
 
 "And, granny " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " S]ic called me Jack I " 
 
 Then Joan threw her arms, flour and all, round 
 the lad's neck, and hugged him in an ecstasy of 
 delight at the realization of her prophecy. 
 
 A month later, and one of the machines was 
 fitted up in the mills for the purpose of ascertaining 
 whether it would accomplish all that the. young 
 inventor had promised. Jacob Dene, the overseer 
 of the spinning department, Mrs. Hollis, Mrs. 
 Dene, Rachel, Ealph, and the vicar, were formed 
 into an informal committee of inspection to see 
 the result of the inaugural experiments. 
 
 Of course, the ladies knew as much of the matter 
 as they knew of Euclid or Sanscrit, nor were 
 Ealph or the vicar much wiser. The machine 
 accomplished much, but the arrangements were 
 still incomplete. However, the practised eyes of 
 the overseer and Jacob Dene took in in a moment 
 the enormous value which must ultimately accrue 
 from the invention. At present, it required a cog 
 here, a pin there, a strap round a certain barrel, 
 and then — hey, presto ! the entire trade would be 
 revolutionized. 
 
 Jack was overwhelmed with congratulations, 
 and a little dinner was improvised at the Oaks
 
 56 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 that niglit in compliment to the happy lad. A 
 very pleasant gathering it was for everybody but 
 Ralph and his mother, who were neither of them 
 too well pleased. Jack v;as the hero of the hour. 
 Could it have been his fancy that Rachel appeared 
 a little more reserved than usual? Everybody 
 else was full of the great event, but she had little 
 to say about it, pleading ignorance as her excuse. 
 This lack of appreciation was the only alloy to our 
 inventor's triumph. 
 
 When he got home, while Jasper and Jabez 
 foregathered over their pipes, he got Joan into a 
 corner, and laid bare his heart. 
 
 "Granny," said he, '' slie was the only one who 
 eaid nowt about the invention." 
 
 Joan laughed knowingly. 
 
 *' Shows she tJiought all t' more. Of course, lad, 
 thee doesn't understand. But, there, thou seest 
 thee is na a woman, and dost na know the deceitful 
 ways o' wenches. I know all about 'em ; I was a 
 wench once mysen. When thy grandfather used 
 to come a-courtin' me, I allays looked as if I 
 wished un at Kirby Lonsdale, though if he hadna 
 come I should a' greeted my een out." 
 
 " Oh, granny, do you think that she really cares 
 for me a bit — only a little bit ? " 
 
 "Cares for thee? Why, of course she does! 
 Only last Sunday, when she came into church, she 
 smirked and nodded to Mrs. Hollis and Ralph 
 quite sonsy like, then she looked over at our pew 
 and turned pale as a lily. What did she turn
 
 A BLACK MONDAY, 57 
 
 pale for, I should like to know ? Wby, because 
 thou was na theer ; and when thou earnest in by- 
 and-by, and she caught sight of thee, she flushed 
 up red as a rose in June. What was that for, I 
 should like to know ? Thou'lt see, this invention 
 will win thee thy wife ; if not to-day, to-morrow, 
 or next day. It'll come, lad — it's sure to come ! " 
 
 Jack caught her in his arms and hugged her. 
 
 "And when thou art a great man, hinney," she 
 said, sobbing, " thou'lt no be ashamed o' thy old 
 granny— wilt thee. Jack ? " 
 
 "Never — never! " 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A BLACK MONDAY. 
 
 Just as the new invention was in full swing, Jack 
 got a day off to have a run with the Brocklesby 
 hounds. When he reached the meet there was a 
 brave show of county people, and conspicuous 
 among the party were Ealph Hollis and Eachel 
 Bene. They belonged to the privileged class, and 
 were in the thick of the throng, while poor Jack, 
 being an intruder, merely hung upon the outskirts. 
 His blucher boots, bowler hat, and homely 
 jacket did not contrast to advantage with Ralph's 
 white hat, smart pink coat, boots, and breeches. 
 Evidently Master Ealph was well satisfied with 
 himself or with something else that morning, for
 
 58 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 the fellow looked happy and handsome as he 
 chatted away with Eachel. For that matter, so 
 did she until she caught sight of Jack, to whom 
 she bowed gravely. He returned the courtesy as 
 coldly as it was given. 
 
 ''Morning, Heywood — morning," said Ealph. 
 *' Got a day's holiday ? " 
 
 " Yes," growled Jack, as he gave his cob the 
 spur, and trotted off, half disposed to gallop back 
 to Deepdale there and then. 
 
 But he was young. Besides, he was a York- 
 shireman; so when he heard the yelping of the 
 hounds, and the cry of the " view hallo," — for they 
 had found a fox almost immediately — he galloped 
 back even more quickly than he had left the field. 
 
 There had been a heavy snowfall a few days 
 before, a heavier thaw followed, a flood ensued, 
 and all the rivers in Yorkshire overflowed their 
 banks. The fox knew his ground, and led straight 
 over hill and dale until they reached Blocklesby 
 Ferry, where the Ouse was rushing down south- 
 ward in a foaming torrent. Without hesitation, 
 Reynard took the stream, the dogs followed, and, 
 despite the strength of the current, made the other 
 side a quarter of a mile lower down in safet3^ 
 
 Carried away by the example of the fox and the 
 hounds, those who were foremost in the field 
 boarded the ferry-boat, which, in a minute's time, 
 was overcrowded with men and horses. Fortu- 
 nately only one woman was aboard. 
 
 The boat had barely left the shore, when Jack
 
 A BLACK MONDAY. 59 
 
 came up on his cob. Irritated at being left bcliind, 
 he contemplated the departure of the boat with 
 anything but equanimity. There was nothing for 
 it, however, but to await its return. 
 
 As he looked on, impatiently, a terrified horse 
 aboard the boat, which was now in mid river, 
 began to rear, and kick, and plunge. The example 
 was contagious ; every horse aboard followed suit. 
 Amidst the yells of the affrighted animals, 
 and the wild cries of their riders, the boat cap- 
 sized, and man and beast were flung headlong in 
 one screaming, struggling mass into the rushing 
 river. Jack never forgot that scene of horror ; he 
 never can forget it to his dying day. Man after 
 man went down, wildly calling for help ; they rose 
 and sank, and rose and sank again, then drifted 
 down to death. The noise, the struggle, and the 
 commotion ceased. All was silent ; nothing was 
 to be heard to remind one of this sudden and awful 
 tragedy but the roar of the river, and then— the 
 wild face of a woman emerging from the waste of 
 waters fifty paces lower down. There was but one 
 face in all the world like that, and when Jack 
 Heywood saw it rise, as it were, from death, for a 
 moment his heart stood still ! 
 
 Then he pulled himself together, and with the 
 rapidity of lightning took stock of the situation. 
 A hundred paces still lower down the river 
 described an acute curve, shaped almost like the 
 letter U. This curve somewhat broke and 
 deadened the force of the torrent.
 
 6o RACHEL DENE. 
 
 Keeping his eyes fixed on the fair, pale face, 
 Jack sx^urred his horse till he reached the bend of 
 the curve, and then, with set teeth and muscles of 
 steel, he pulled u^d, ready to take the leap on "which 
 life or death depended. 
 
 As he looked, the face went down for the second 
 time. 
 
 For the second time ! There was still one 
 chance left. At the edge of the curve, it rose for 
 the third time. The eyes — the pleading eyes — 
 met his ! 
 
 All depended now upon when and how he should 
 take the leap. A moment too soon, and he would 
 be carried down the river, powerless to help, 
 before her. A moment too late, and he would be 
 behind her. There was a third and worse 
 alternative, he might ride over her. 
 
 At the supreme moment he drew himself 
 together, and the leap was made. 
 
 As she floated by in the last agony, he plucked 
 her by her sunny hair, which fell in great 
 dishevelled masses down her shoulders, flung her 
 across his saddle-bow, and floated safely down the 
 river, until he approached another curve, which 
 enabled him to land in safety with his precious 
 burden. 
 
 She was cold and inanimate as death. Save 
 for the feeble beating of her heart, she might have 
 been dead indeed. He held her in his strong 
 arms — he pressed her to his heart — he laid her 
 tenderly upon the ground — he chafed her hands —
 
 A BLACK MONDAY. 6i 
 
 he laid his cheeks to hers — he kissed her brow, 
 her eyes, her lips — not with a lover's passion, but 
 with a man's devotion, trying to breathe his own 
 warmth and vitality into her expiring life, all the 
 while beseeching Heaven with tears and prayers 
 to spare her for the sake of those who loved 
 her, and, perchance, a little for his own. 
 
 Surely his prayer was heard and answered ; for 
 — with a shudder which thrilled her from head to 
 foot, quickening her blood into returning life — she 
 opened her eyes, and looked at him. 
 
 " Jack ! " she gasped. That was all. 
 
 But that was enough. 
 
 We have lost sight of Ealph, as, indeed, he had 
 lost sight of Eachel half an hour before. The fact 
 was, his mare had shied at Thorby Beck, which 
 was swollen like a torrent, while Eachel, Squire 
 Mordaunt, and a dozen others whose blood was 
 up, had taken it flying, from the edge of the 
 cliff. 
 
 Ealph was not alone — for two-thirds of the field 
 shirked the leap, and concluded to make a detour. 
 But Jack had made a way for himself ; and while 
 the others were crawling leisurely round to the 
 left, he discovered a narrower arm of the dyke — 
 leaped it — and hence it was that, guided by the 
 hand of Heaven, he had arrived in time to save 
 the life he loved. 
 
 Yes, she was safe — there was no doubt about 
 that. But how to get her to some haven of refuge ?
 
 62 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 There was no sign of shed or shelter, far as the 
 eye could reach. 
 
 While she lay shivering on the ground in her 
 wet clothes — to make matters more agreeable, it 
 began to snow. Then he pulled off his coat, and 
 wrapped it round her. If he only had a flask now ; 
 but he carried nothing of the kind. 
 
 The snow thickened — he didn't feci it — for the 
 fever in his heart had set him on fire. 
 
 Leaving his sturdy cob beside her, he ran two 
 or three hundred yards towards one of those stone 
 fences so common in Yorkshire. Leaping atop, 
 he gave the view hallo ! There w^as no response. 
 Again, and yet again, he shouted — still no reply. 
 
 The snowflakes fell heavier and heavier — the 
 grey clouds thickened, and became overcast — until 
 a pall of darkness overshadowed the earth. 
 
 What was to be done ? 
 
 He overleaped the intervening dyke, and ran 
 over a ploughed field, sinking into the sludge, 
 almost knee-deep at every step. Again he leaped 
 the wall — again he shouted. This time, he was 
 answered. He listened with his heart in his 
 mouth. Presently he heard the murmur of distant 
 voices, the galloping of horses. 
 
 At last, ten or a dozen horsemen, with Ralph 
 Hollis at their head, emerged from the mist. 
 When Jack told them what had happened, a thrill 
 of horror passed through the group, and an awful 
 silence befell as they thought of friends and 
 comrades thus untimely called to their last account.
 
 A BLACK MONDAY. 63 
 
 While they stood Hke men transformed to stone, 
 Jack said to Tom Brixholme, the whipper-in, who 
 bestrode a great sorrel mare, " Tom, give us a lift 
 behind thee, lad. While these gentlemen stand 
 gaping here, poor Miss Dene will be perished ; so 
 give the mare her head, and let her up." 
 
 Even as he spoke, off they went in a gallop, 
 followed by the rest of the field, until they reached 
 the spot where Eachel still lay shivering. 
 
 Dismounting rapidly he knelt beside her, and, 
 raising her tenderly, placed his ear against her 
 bosom. It still palpitated gently; so there was 
 no immediate cause for alarm. 
 
 Up to this moment Ralph had not spoken. 
 
 At last he said, " How can I thank you ? " 
 
 *' I don't need your thanks," replied the other. 
 
 Ealph paused for a moment as he made answer. 
 
 *' Of course I shall take her home at once." 
 
 '* Excuse me," said Jack, " but I shall take care 
 of her this turn. Happen one of you gentlemen 
 may have such a thing as a drop of brandy about 
 you ? " 
 
 Half a dozen flasks were instantly placed at his 
 disposal, and when he had succeeded in getting a 
 few drops of the potent spirit down her throat she 
 began to revive. 
 
 There was no conveyance — not even so much as 
 a hurdle — so Jack did not hesitate as to his plan 
 of action. 
 
 "Tom Brixholme," said he, "is there e'er a 
 farmhouse nigh ? "
 
 64 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 " Yes, there's Farmer Sparrow's— at Barnolby- 
 le-Beck, about a mile off." 
 
 Lifting Eacbel from the ground, Jack continued, 
 ** As soon as I'm mounted, give her to me." 
 
 "Eight you are. Jack," replied the whipper-in. 
 ''But first, lad, slip on this coat. It be t' Squire's. 
 I brought it for un, sure. He'll never want it 
 again, poor ge'l'man ! " 
 
 Jack slipped on Squire Mordaunt's coat, sprang 
 astride the cob, and rode leisurely to Barnolby-le- 
 Beck, bearing his treasure in his arms — upon his 
 heart. Poor Ealph felt that his nose was out of 
 joint, and there was nothing for it but to follow 
 and play second fiddle, which he did with a rueful 
 face. There is no use, however, kicking against 
 the pricks, and he had to accept the inevitable. 
 
 When they got to Farmer Sparrow's, the dame 
 and her milking-maid took charge of Eachel. The 
 honest soul stripped the girl of her wet clothing, 
 chafed the frigid limbs, got her to bed, and 
 administered a warm posset. 
 
 As soon as she came to, she inquired, " Where's 
 Jack?" 
 
 " I don't know who Jack is," replied the dame, 
 *'but there be two young men downstairs. One 
 carried you here in his arms on horseback; the 
 other is in pink, and raal handsome he is." 
 
 ** Prithee tell them to let Grandpapa and Grandma 
 Dene know that I'm all right ; only I'm so sleepy." 
 
 Five minutes later she was sleeping placidly as 
 an infant.
 
 A BLACK MONDAY. 65 
 
 While she slept, the two young men rode towards 
 Deepdale together. Ealph smoked mcessantly, 
 and stopped at every halfway house to have a nip. 
 It was in vain that he invited Jack to accompany 
 him. The latter had already taken the precaution 
 to fortify himself at Dame Sparrow's with hot 
 coffee and a dish of ham and eggs. Both men 
 were moody and taciturn, and spoke little to each 
 other. 
 
 Upon arriving in the valley, Ralph went to the 
 Vicarage. Jack paused for a moment at the 
 cottage to hurriedly tell Joan and Jasper what 
 had happened, and to ask the old woman to get 
 some dry clothing ready for him ; then he picked 
 up Jabez at the mills, and they went to the Oaks 
 together. 
 
 Mrs. Dene and Jacob were much alarmed at 
 Eachel's absence, for it was now getting on for 
 nine o'clock, and they had expected her back to 
 dinner at six. When Jack told them what had 
 happened, Jacob ordered the break out immediately. 
 It was useless for Jack to assure him that there 
 was no further danger. Jacob was impatient of 
 opposition. 
 
 " Thy cob is worn out," he said. " Go to the 
 stable, and take the best nag thou canst find. 
 Take it, and keep it, lad, for this day's work. 
 That'll do ; spare thy speech. Gallop down to the 
 Vicarage. Tell parson I'll call for him in half an 
 hour ; and, Jabez, do thou call on Doctor Whitaker, 
 and ask him to make ready to go with us."
 
 i6 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 The poor cob was indeed done up ; that struggle 
 in the river, and the ride to Farmer Sparrow's 
 double weighted, and the long ride to Deepdale, 
 had taken the backbone out of him, so Jack was 
 not sorry to give him a rest. But in Jacob's 
 stable there was a splendid young chestnut mare 
 called Lucy, which Jack had long admired. 
 
 While the groom saddled her, Jack gave the cob 
 a rub down ; then he leaped upon the mare, and 
 trotted down to the cottage, where he slipped on 
 his dry clothing, which done, he galloped on to 
 the Vicarage, which he found in a state of con- 
 sternation. 
 
 Almost immediately upon Ralph's arrival he 
 was taken suddenly ill. Whether occasioned by 
 fatigue, anxiety, vexation, or those repeated "nips" 
 on the way, or all combined, no man may tell. 
 
 Doctor Whitaker had already been sent for. He 
 merely unloosed the young man's neck-cloth, smelt 
 his breath, and shook his head. 
 
 "Is there any danger?" inquired Mrs. Hollis, 
 anxiously. 
 
 "Nothing that a draught of bitter water in the 
 morning will not obviate. For the present, put 
 him to bed, and let him sleep." 
 
 Ten minutes later the Denes, the vicar, the 
 doctor, Jabez, and Rachel's maid were on their 
 way to Barnolby-le-Beck, accompanied by Jack. 
 To their inexpressible relief, they found their 
 darling still sleeping soundly — so soundly that the 
 doctor forbore to wake her.
 
 A BLACK MONDAY. 67 
 
 Then came a difficulty. It was now too late to 
 return to Deepdale. Dame Sparrow was, however, 
 a woman of resources, and beds were improvised 
 here, there, and everywhere, and soon after mid- 
 night the house was at rest. 
 
 Eachel did not awake until about nine o'clock. 
 When she found her grandmother on one side of 
 the bed, and the maid on the other, she said, 
 *' I've been dreaming, grandma, such a strange 
 dream. I thought I was out with the hounds at 
 Brocklesby Ferry ; that the boat was capsized ; 
 that every one was drowned but me; that Jack 
 came and saved me." • 
 
 " And so he did, my darling ! It was no dream. 
 The brave lad did save thee, God bless him ! But 
 see, here's Jacob, and Grandpa Lyster, and Doctor 
 Whitaker." 
 
 When the two old men saw their darling, radiant 
 with youth and health, they kissed and caressed 
 her; and at a signal from the vicar, all knelt 
 beside the bed and offered up a silent thanksgiving 
 that she had been delivered from the jaws of 
 death. 
 
 By-and-by, when the doctor came and told Jack 
 and Jabez that all the danger was past, the two 
 men shook hands in silence, and while Jabez went 
 to take his morning pipe in the farmyard, Jack 
 went out for a stroll towards the Beck. 
 
 He walked along lazily, with his bands in his 
 pockets, until he was out of sight of the house and 
 its inhabitants.
 
 68 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 Then Master Jack ran a little, he danced a little, 
 he laughed a good deal, then he burst out crying, 
 like a great baby ; but finally he walked quietly 
 back to the farm, softly whistling ** The British 
 Grenadiers." When he got to the kitchen, Jabez 
 was sitting down to breakfast. 
 
 " Thou art happy, lad ! " said he. 
 
 "Ay, and hungry, too, Jabez ! " 
 
 Evidently he was, for he polished off his break- 
 fast in fine style. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 RALPH HOLLIS. 
 
 We have compared Ralph Hollis and Jack Hey wood 
 to the idle and industrious apprentices immortalized 
 by Hogarth ; but the comparison is, of course, an 
 inadequate one, since the two lads of Deepdale, 
 unlike their prototypes, didn't " start fair." Hollis 
 had all the advantages of birth, blood, education, 
 and refined surroundings ; Heywood had all the 
 disadvantages on the other side. And yet, as we 
 have seen, the poorer lad was rapidly gaining on 
 his social superior. He was recognized on every 
 hand as a clever, industrious fellow, likely to rise 
 to almost any position. He had already invented 
 a mood of economizing labour which might bring 
 him in a fortune ; and, to crown all, he was a hero 
 — he had saved Rachel Dene's life.
 
 RALPH MOLLIS. 69 
 
 All this was gall and wormwood to the hand- 
 some son of Mrs. Hollis. To be surpassed in 
 everything by a social inferior, and one his junior 
 by several years, was a constant source of irrita- 
 tion. In his dilemma he turned for help to his 
 mother, who, rendered preternaturally acute by 
 maternal affection, kept her eyes fixed constantly 
 on Rachel Dene, and saw, to her amazement, that 
 Ralph was daily losing ground. True, Ea«hel 
 liked the young man very well, for he was gay, 
 dashing, and not ungenerous of disposition; but 
 whenever there was a hint of love-making she 
 shielded herself under the grey hood of Quakerdom, 
 and couldn't or wouldn't understand. Attracted 
 as much by her physical beauty as by her fortune, 
 Ralph used all his powers of fascination, which 
 were not very great, seeing that his experience 
 lay chiefly among ladies of lighter disposition. 
 He was quite at home with a handsome barmaid 
 or a mirth-loving mill-girl, but he didn't under- 
 stand the ways of pure and cultivated women. 
 
 The mother and son, like many who love each 
 other much, wrangled a good deal over this and 
 other subjects. Mrs. Hollis was proud and im- 
 perious ; Ralph irritable and indolent ; and some- 
 times they came to such high words that they 
 hardly spoke afterwards for days together. Then 
 Ralph would drive over to Barford to dine with 
 the officers of the Forty-First, his father's old 
 regiment ; there would be cards, and dice, and 
 billiards, and other amusements popular among
 
 70 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 sucii young gentlemen, and our idle apprentice 
 would ride back to the counting-house "with an 
 aching head and an empty pocket, to go through 
 the disagreeable drudgery of earning his daily 
 bread. Over and over again, however, he had to 
 appeal to his mother to help him out of his diffi- 
 culties, and in doing so she got into difficulties 
 herself. Still, it was for her darling's sake ; and, 
 as the young scapegrace constantly promised 
 amendment, the poor, fond mother helj)ed him, 
 and prayed for better days. 
 
 There was one consolation — Ealph was the next- 
 of-kin to an earldom. How fervently, amidst his 
 pecuniary and other troubles, he prayed that his 
 titled relative might remain a bachelor, and die at 
 as early an opportunity as was convenient and 
 possible. 
 
 More than once Jacob Dene lectured the young 
 man on his conduct. One day, when Ealph 
 returned from a night's orgy just in time to get to 
 his desk in the morning, the old Quaker sent for 
 him, and thus addressed him : " Thou art no 
 flesh and blood of mine, Ealph Hollis, but I am 
 sorry to see thy mother's son going so fast downhill 
 to the place thou knowest. Thou wast at Barford 
 last night, and rode over at daybreak? " 
 
 Ealph, who looked pale and wretched, and felt 
 desperately ill and uncomfortable, forced a laugh. 
 
 *'A friend was going away. We gave him a 
 little dinner, and kept it up rather late." 
 
 ''Who was thy friend?"
 
 RALPH HOLLIS. ^\ 
 
 *' Mr. Ilarkaway, of the Forty-First. His father 
 and mine were intimately acquainted. I hope, Mr. 
 Dene, you don't find me inattentive to my duties ? 
 I do my best, but the fact is, you know, I haven't 
 much of a head for business." 
 
 "Nay," said Jacob Dene, dryly; "thou likest 
 card-playing and folly better than honest work. 
 Hast thou ever reflected, man, what it means to 
 thee and thy mother ? " 
 
 Ralph shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "You see, I wasn't born for this sort of thing," 
 he muttered, biting his lips, and scowling moodily. 
 
 "Born to be hung, maybe ! " cried the Quaker, 
 sharply. " What dost thou call thyself ? " 
 
 " A gentleman, I suppose." 
 
 " I know a better word — a ne'er-do-well. Take 
 warning and example ! There's a lad in these mills 
 who might teach thee, if thou art capable of 
 learning a lesson." 
 
 " I suppose you mean young Hey wood," returned 
 Ralph. " I know, sir, he's your favourite, but 
 allow me to say that a gentleman does not take 
 example by his social inferiors." 
 
 " Thou art a jackanapes ! " cried Jacob, angrily. 
 ** I have a mind to send thee packing ! If it were 
 not for thy mother's sake " 
 
 " Pray don't mind her ! " returned Ralph, hotly, 
 for he was in the humour for a quarrel. " I can 
 go, sir, whenever you like. I dare say I can pick 
 up a living somehow and somewhere." 
 
 And he flounced out of his master's room, and
 
 72 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 returned to bis place in the counting-house. He 
 was sick of the whole business, and did not care, 
 for the moment, what might happen. In bis 
 irritation and anger, he forgot altogether about 
 Eachel. "When he recovered bis temper, be re- 
 gretted bis hasty words on her account, and felt 
 half-inclined to apologize. However, he was too 
 proud for that. 
 
 But Jacob Dene made no further sign, beyond 
 talking over matters with Mrs. Hollis, and begging 
 her to use her influence towards the young man's 
 reformation, which she tearfully promised to do. 
 A few evenings later, when Ealph had finished his 
 dinner, and sat by the fire in the vicar's sanctum 
 reading a sporting newspaper, she came in and 
 sat down opposite her son. The vicar was out on 
 a sick call, and they were quite alone. 
 
 She did not speak for some time, but sat with 
 her ej'es fixed on the fire. 
 
 At last she said quietly, ** Have you seen Eachel 
 to-day ? " 
 
 " No," he replied, over bis newspaper. 
 
 ** She called this afternoon." 
 
 " Humph ! " muttered the young man, carelessly. 
 
 Another silence. It was clear that Ealph was 
 prepared for a lecture, for without looking up he 
 continued to read his newspaper with a scowl. 
 
 " Put down that paper and talk to me," said 
 Mrs. Hollis. Ealph hesitated a moment, then 
 threw the journal aside. 
 
 " What's the matter now ?" he exclaimed.
 
 liALPH MOLLIS. 73 
 
 *' I want to speak to you about yourself, autl 
 al)out Kacliel." 
 
 " Well, mother ? " 
 
 " You are behaving very foolishly and very 
 badly. Mr. Dene is right." 
 
 " Oh, he has been sounding my praises ! " cried 
 Pialph. " Old humbug ! I gave him a bit of my 
 mind the other day when he began preaching to 
 me down at the mill. He thinks me a fool, but 
 he's mistaken." 
 
 " I'm afraid he's right," returned Mrs. Hollis. 
 
 ''Thank you!" 
 
 "He complains, and justly, that you neglect 
 your duties, and keep bad company." 
 
 "I keep company v/ith gentlemen, which is 
 more than he has ever done. Mother," he added 
 hotly, " I'm sick of it all. I was never meant to 
 be chained to a desk, or to pore over figures in a 
 ledger. I'm determined to cut it as soon as 
 possible." 
 
 " And Eachel ? " asked Mrs. Hollis, coldly. 
 
 " Pachel is as bad as her grandfather. She 
 never cared for me, and never will. Why should 
 I keep on dangling at the heels of a methodistical 
 flirt ? Why should I humiliate myself by following 
 a girl like that ? " 
 
 "It is your own fault if you have not vron her 
 heart," said the lady. " You have had every 
 chance, yet you let her go without an effort. You 
 waste half your time with the men at Barford, and 
 while you are playing cards and billiards, young
 
 74 EACH EL DENE. 
 
 Heywood, who has not a tithe of your gifts, is 
 gaining every clay in her esteem." 
 
 " Nice taste that ! " sneered Ealph. " A common 
 mechanic ! A fellow who can't speak decent 
 English ! " 
 
 " He's not so bad as that ; though, of course, 
 he is not a gentleman. Eemember, however, that 
 Jacob Dene himself belongs to the people, and so, 
 for that matter, does Eachel herself." 
 
 Ealph rose impatiently, and stood with his back 
 to the fire, looking angrily at his mother. 
 
 *' Let Eachel take the fellow, and welcome. I 
 am sick of humouring her human fancies ! " 
 
 *'You know you love her, so don't talk so 
 absurdly," said Mrs. HoUis. " Oh, Ealph, do look 
 at the matter seriously. You are ruining your 
 own prospects and breaking my heart ! " 
 
 And the proud woman hung her head, while the 
 fast-streaming tears ran down her cheeks. 
 
 With all his faults, Ealph loved his mother. 
 She was the only living being, indeed, who in- 
 spired in him either deep respect or strong affec- 
 tion; so her grief moved him, and, bending over 
 her, he asked her forgiveness. 
 
 "But you know, mother," he said, "I cannot 
 bear the life I am leading. I ought to have been 
 a soldier, like my father. After all, that's the only 
 life fit for a man ! " 
 
 In his secret heart Ealph w^as thinking more of 
 the amusements and dissipations of military life 
 than of its dangers and glories ; but the fond
 
 RALPH IIOLLIS. 75 
 
 mother looked at him in sudden pride, and thought, 
 with a sigh, how closely he resembled his dead 
 father. 
 
 "I wish it could have been," she said. *'My 
 boy, you must be patient ; perhaps some day our 
 fortunes may change, and then " 
 
 She did not finish the sentence, but he under- 
 stood her. Both were thinking of the one life 
 which stood between Ealph Hollis and an earldom. 
 Little did Mrs. Hollis know that, even in that 
 faint expectation of the succession — faint because 
 the present Earl was strong and hale, and might 
 marry any day — the young man had already 
 speculated largely. He was, in fact, far deeper in 
 the mire of difficulties than any one suspected. 
 That very morning a writ had been served upon 
 him in the streets of Deepdale. He had got among 
 a bad set, and in order to keep pace with its 
 members he had used every device to raise money. 
 His mother's resources were, as he knew, ex- 
 hausted ; his own were unsubstantial as thin air, 
 for the small sum he received for his work at the 
 mills would have scarcely sufficed to pay his tailor's 
 bilL
 
 76 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A FOREWARNING. 
 
 That business at Brocklesby Ferry was a bad 
 clay's work for Ralph Hollis. 
 
 He was thankful, however, that it was no worse. 
 Had he been beside Rachel at the critical moment, 
 he might have been unable to restrain her from 
 going on board the boat. Of course, he would 
 have gone with her ; then, in sporting phraseology, 
 the odds were ten to one that he would have been 
 drowned with the rest. On the other hand, had 
 he come up with Jack, both would have certainly 
 jumped into the river together in the endeavour 
 to save her; and perhaps while the rivals were 
 struggling for the honour of rescuing her, they 
 would all three have perished. Of course, it was 
 not Ralph's fault that his mare shied at Thorby 
 Beck, but it was his misfortune. It left him out 
 of the hunt, and gave Jack a chance which might 
 never occur again in his lifetime. 
 
 Then there was that confounded brandy, of 
 which he had taken enough, and to spare. Yes, 
 he reflected; it was a bad day's work for him. 
 
 However that might be, that Black Monday 
 could never be blotted out ; and no one knew it 
 better than Ralph himself — that is, when he was 
 himself. At times he would be resolute, and never
 
 A FOREWARNING. 77 
 
 touch alcohol for weeks together. Then a moment 
 of weakness or temptation occurred, and away 
 went his virtuous resolves like a handful of thistle- 
 down before the wind. So long as he was under 
 the influence of his mother he was right enough ; 
 but he could not always be tied to her apron- 
 strings, and when once he got among his mihtary 
 and racing friends, good-bye to prudence and 
 common sense. 
 
 His extravagance had involved Mrs. Hollis in 
 continual difficulties. So long as her father- 
 in-law lived she got a little help occasionally ; 
 but he had been deceased for nearly a year, 
 and her brother-in-law, the new Earl, had 
 refused to give her a shilling. It was, however 
 almost a certainty that Ealph would inherit thv 
 earldom at some distant period, which was some- 
 thing to look forward to. If the lad would only 
 keep steady, and if that match could be brought 
 
 about with Eachel But, then, if it could 
 
 not? 
 
 He had set his heart upon her, and the thought 
 of losing her seemed beyond the bare pale of 
 possibility. Still, he could not help fancying that 
 she had never been the same to him since the day 
 at the ferry. He noted, too, with growing im- 
 patience and irritation, that Jack was a frequent 
 guest at the Oaks, that he had taken to dressing 
 in a more civilized manner, that he had even 
 taken to lawn-tennis, and that he was a deft and 
 dangerous opponent in that, or any other game
 
 78 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 in which skill, or strength, or courage were 
 necessary. 
 
 Now Ealph had so long taught himself to helieve 
 that Eachel was to be his wife, that the bare idea 
 of any other man coming between them appeared 
 an outrage. That a mere ordinary operative — a 
 vulgar mechanic — should dare to aspire to Eachel 
 — Hs bright and beautiful Eachel — was not to be 
 thought of. 
 
 But Jack was not an '' ordmary " operative — on 
 the contrary, he was a very extraordinary one ; 
 and, though a mechanic, he was by no means a 
 vulgarian. Moreover, he was now in a fair way to 
 become a rich man. 
 
 They met daily at the mills, and though not 
 particularly cordial, were always civil to each 
 other. The proverb is as true as it is trite, that 
 *' lookers on see most of the game ; " and Jabez 
 saw with increasing anxiety, that distrust was 
 ripening into dislike between these two young 
 men. 
 
 As for the innocent cause of this contention, she 
 scarcely knew her own heart, or, if she did, she 
 did not care to scrutinize it too closely. She was 
 really always glad to see Ealph — that is, when he 
 was not too pressing in his attentions. On the 
 other hand, she was grateful to Jack Heywood for 
 having saved her life — and perhaps a little more 
 than pleased to see evidences of some attempt at 
 refinement in his manners and demeanour. 
 
 Time passed on, and the great invention, though
 
 A FOREIVARNING, 79 
 
 it scarcely justified its title, proved so far satisfac- 
 tory, that it was adopted, with certain modifications, 
 in the Deepdale Mills ; and before Jack Heywood 
 attained his majority, he found himself foreman of 
 the department in which the machine was used, 
 and in the receipt of a handsome income. This 
 increased prosperity made no difference in his 
 domestic habits. He continued to live at the 
 cottage with the old people. 
 
 "Didna I allays say it ! " Joan would constantly 
 exclaim. ** Thou wast born to be a gentleman, 
 and some day, lad, thou'lt be master 0' t' mill 
 itself." 
 
 Jack would laugh, and blush, and look at himself 
 in the glass, and think, very possibly, that the 
 old woman was not far wrong. One thing, how- 
 ever, marred the completeness of his self-satisfac- 
 tion. His new pride and happiness seemed to 
 make no favourable impression on Jabez Pryke. 
 
 One day, therefore, he spoke out to Jabez. It 
 was just after the dinner hour, and they were 
 walking back to the mills together — he with a 
 rose in the button-hole of his office-suit, Jabez in 
 all the picturesque shabbiness of his working 
 clothes. 
 
 " What ails you, Jabez ? " he asked. *' You 
 seem changed a bit from old times. Sometimes I 
 fancy you're sorry to know of my good luck." 
 
 The overseer stopped short, and looked at him 
 quietly with his gentle, patient eyes — eyes so full 
 pf introspection, that they seemed to suffer from
 
 8o RACHEL DENE. 
 
 the tender light they shed upon him. Then he 
 laid his hand upon the young man's shoulder. 
 
 "It's just this, lad," he replied. "I'm reet 
 glad o' your good luck, and proud o't into the 
 bargain ; hut I'm troubled whiles i' my own mind 
 about what's to come o't. 'Taint allays the best 
 or the cleverest colt as wins t' race, and 'twould be 
 a bad look-out if t' luck were to turn thy head." 
 
 "What d'ye mean?" cried the lad, flushing 
 angrily. 
 
 "I mean naut but what I say. Jack. T' luck, 
 maybe, has come too quick to last. You're nobbut 
 a boy, and you're reckoning the race o'er far 
 ahead." 
 
 " How d'ye know that ? I do my work and bide 
 my time, and Master Dene has promised to help 
 me along." 
 
 " That's reet enough," said the overseer. "But 
 he'll ne'er help thee to Miss Eachel, if that's i' thy 
 mind. T' master's proud, and he has the right to 
 be proud ; but he's a great man, lad, and try thy 
 best, you're nobbut one of the people. Blood's 
 thicker nor water, as t' saying is." 
 
 The lad looked angrily at the speaker, who 
 continued quietly. 
 
 "But 'tis not that I were thinking o' altogether. 
 You're gotten beyond us hardworking folk, and 
 hankering after fine company. Up at Barford, 
 holiday times, you spend your brass wi' swells. 
 Last Leger, you went into t' ring, and lost money 
 on t' favourite."
 
 ( 83 ) 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE FEAST OF ST. LEGER. 
 
 The great Yorksbire carnival came on again. 
 Saint Lcger was holding sovereign sway and 
 masterdom on the Moor at Doncaster. 
 
 The mill hands had knocked ofT, and gone in 
 thousands by a special train. Everybody in Deep- 
 dale had gone except Joan and Jasper Hcywood, 
 whose knee was as big as his head with a sudden 
 and violent attack of rheumatism, so his wife 
 stayed at home to nurse him. Though Jacob 
 Dene was a Quaker, a Quaker is still a man — 
 especially a Yorkshire Quaker, when there is a 
 horse in the way — and he accompanied his wife 
 and granddaughter to Doncaster. Mr. Lyster, 
 too, escorted Mrs. Hollis ; Ealpli Hollis went with 
 his friends, Captain Fitzherbert and other plun- 
 gers of the Forty-First from Barford ; while Jack 
 and Jabez drove over together to catch the train 
 at Barnolby Junction. Jabez was for staying at 
 home, but, seeing that Jack was bent on going, he 
 determined to accompany him. 
 
 What a scene it was, to be sure, when they 
 got to Doncaster ! Train after train disgorged its 
 thousands. The High Street was crowded — 
 almost impassable. But the scene at the moor 
 itself baffles description. Life, colour, gaiety, 
 animation were everywhere ; and as for the crowd.
 
 84 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 that could only be calculated by hundreds of 
 thousands. 
 
 A dozen different dialects of Yorkshire, con- 
 tended for mastery with our own beloved Cockney 
 — with Scotch, with Irish, with French, with 
 German, and with shrill American. 
 
 The Denes, Rachel, Mr. Lystor, and Mrs. 
 Hollis were in the front of the Grand Stand, which 
 was thickly packed with human beings. Save for 
 the fact that a Yorkshire horse was the first 
 favourite, our friends had no interest beyond 
 seeing the glorious strife for victory, and certainly 
 they had nothing in common with the gentry 
 below, amongst whom Ealph Hollis and his 
 friends were busy backing the favourite against 
 the field. 
 
 Hitherto, upon all former occasions, Jack and 
 Jabez had been content to gaze upon the race from 
 the outer fringe ; to-day they had sprung a point, 
 and paid their guinea apiece to enter the charmed 
 circle, where they encountered Ealph, Fitzherbert, 
 and his friends. 
 
 Jabez felt ill-at-ease in such fashionable 
 society ; so he made his way alone to the Stand. 
 The plungers were civil to Jack, and Ralph gladly 
 took him under his wing, simply to keep him away 
 from Rachel. 
 
 It was a delightful day, and Jack enjoyed the 
 races. It was pleasant to be in the thick of the 
 dazzling scene he had heretofore contemplated 
 at a distance — to be in the paddock, and to rub
 
 THE FEAST OF ST. LEGER. 85 
 
 sboulclers with all the great people — especially to 
 be introduced to the famous Jockey, with -whom 
 princes and dukes hobnobbed. 
 
 By-and-by there was a hastily improvised 
 luncheon, washed down by champagne ; and after 
 that, a rough-and-ready race inaugurated the day's 
 carnival. Jack didn't think much of that ; but 
 after it came more champagne with cigars, and 
 soda and brandies to follow. Then another descent 
 into the ring ; then another raid upon the refresh- 
 ment-room, more stimulants, and more cigars — a 
 great deal more of them all than was good for Jack 
 Heywood. 
 
 Ealph and his friends were seasoned vessels. 
 Jack was unused to the process, and it began to 
 take effect. 
 
 Back once more into the ring — back amongst a 
 mob of howding ruffians, with books and pencils in 
 their hands, and blasphemy in their mouths. To 
 hear these fellows roar at each other, one would 
 think Bedlam had broken loose amid a menagerie 
 of wild beasts. 
 
 Bright and handsome, full of life and excitement, 
 Jack pushed his way through the ring. Looking 
 up towards the Grand Stand, he saw the eyes of 
 Eachel fixed upon him, and smiling merrily, he 
 lifted his hat. At that moment he felt a hand 
 upon his shoulder, and turning quickly, saw his 
 foster-father. 
 
 " Come away out 0' this, lad," said Jabez ; " 'tis 
 no fit place for a decent lad. Let's gang home,"
 
 86 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 *' Gang borne ! " echoed Jack, with a laugh, " and 
 before the sport has half begun ? Nay, not I ! 
 Come along to the bar, and have a drink." 
 
 Jabez shook his head. 
 
 " Thou'st been tasting already, Jack. Remem- 
 ber what I told you, and tak' no more. If you 
 won't gang home, at least, come and speak to 
 Miss Eachol. See, lad, she's beckoning fro' t' 
 Grand Stand." 
 
 Jack looked up again. Rachel was indeed 
 beckoning, and, it seemed, to him. He took his 
 friend's arm and pushed his way out of the ring ; 
 made the best of his way until he came close to 
 the group from Deepdale. 
 
 " I hope thou art not wagering thy money, lad," 
 said Jacob. ''Betting is a bad business, and 
 unworthy of a decent man." 
 
 " I am only looking on, sir," answered Jack. 
 "Isn't it splendid? They say the Yorkshire 
 favourite is to win." 
 
 Then he leant over and talked to Rachel. 
 Warmed with a glass or two of wine, he felt quite 
 at his ease and familiar. As he laughed and 
 chatted, the girl looked at him in some surprise. 
 Glancing from his flushed, excited face, she met 
 the sad, wistful eyes of Jabez Pryke. 
 
 While this scene was taking place, two men 
 stood watching it from the ring. One was Ralph 
 Hollis ; the other was his friend and boon 
 companion. Captain Fitzherbert, a man nearly 
 ten years his senior, seasoned in all kinds of
 
 THE FEAST OF ST. LEGER, 87 
 
 dissipation, and a thorough "plunger" by habit 
 as well as disposition. The Captain was thick-set 
 and strongly built, with a high-coloured com- 
 plexion, a black moustache, black hair, a little 
 thin at the top, and a coarse, determined mouth. 
 He was dressed in the height of fashion, sported a 
 white hat, and was literally covered with jewellery. 
 "Look there, Fitz," said Ralph, in a voice thick 
 with drink ; " that infernal workman again talking 
 to Miss Dene ! They're whispering under the old 
 Quaker's very nose. Ever since the fellow saved 
 her life she has treated him as if he were a 
 gentleman and an equal, though, at the best, he's 
 only a confounded mechanic, working with his 
 
 hands." 
 
 "Jealous, eh?" returned the Captain, with a 
 laugh. " Gad, you've reason ! Saved her life, 
 did he ? Ah, yes ; I remember. You missed your 
 best chance there, Ealph, my boy. Women like 
 fellows of that sort, you know. Saved a woman's 
 life myself out in India — widow woman— and, by 
 George ! she proposed to me on the spot. But 
 Fitz didn't see it — oh, dear, no ! " 
 
 Quite unconscious of Ralph's baleful gaze upon 
 them, Jack and Eachel continued to converse in 
 whispers. Never had the maiden seemed so 
 gracious, never had the young inventor looked so 
 
 happy. 
 
 " D n them ! " muttered Ealph Hollis. 
 
 "Certainly," said Fitzherbert. "But come 
 along, and have a drink, and leave them alone ;
 
 88 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 — your rival's first favourite, and you're 
 scratched ! " 
 
 *' km. I ? " cried the young man, with a savage 
 oath. "We'll see about that ! Fitz, the old man 
 hates me, and encourages this fellow ! Only 
 yesterday he took me aside and asked me to take 
 example by young Heywood. Fancy that ! Take 
 example by a common mechanic ! " 
 
 ** Humph ! An imcommon mechanic, I should 
 say. I rather like the lad." 
 
 " And I hate him ! There, they're shaking 
 hands, and he's coming back to the ring. Listen 
 to me, Fitz ! It's a matter of life or death to me 
 now to put things right with Rachel, and this clod 
 is the only human being in my way." 
 
 They walked away together, eagerly conversing. 
 Meantime, Jack Ileywood, hurrying from Eachel's 
 side, drifted away with the crowd. His excitement 
 had increased tenfold by the reception he had met 
 with from the Denes. His face was radiant ; he 
 could have leapt in the air. Laughing gaily, he 
 pushed his way through the throng, again entered 
 the ring, and at last came face to face with Ealph 
 Hollis and Fitzherbert. 
 
 " Ah, Heywood," cried Ealph, smiling. ** Better 
 fun than the mills, eh ? Come and liquor up." 
 
 ** No, thank you," said the lad, hesitating. ** I 
 promised Miss Dene " 
 
 But Ealph Hollis took one arm, and Fitzherbert 
 took the other. As they did so, thoy exchanged a 
 Bignificant glance,
 
 THE FEAST OF ST LEGER. 89 
 
 " Just one glass ! " said the Captain. " Come, 
 we'll toast the great invention." 
 
 Bewildered and excited, Jack suffered himself 
 to be led away. His pride was flattered ; he felt 
 himself a gentleman among gentlemen ; and, to 
 speak the truth, he was pleased to be in such fine 
 company. He glanced round, and saw no sign of 
 Jabez, his self-appointed mentor; then, with a 
 laugh, he accompanied his friends to the refresh- 
 ment-room. 
 
 Fitzherbert called for champagne. When the 
 bottle was opened, he and Ealph took care to 
 let Jack have the lion's share. Then, the lad, not 
 to be outdone, insisted on ordering and paying for 
 another bottle. Had he been a little sharper- 
 sighted and more suspicious, he might have 
 observed that his companions, always exchanging 
 looks of meaning, spilt the greater part of their 
 wine upon the grass. 
 
 Jack was no tippler ; a little wine affected him ; 
 and by this time he had drunk a large quantity. 
 He began to talk loudly, and to clap Fitzherbert 
 oh the shoulder as he sallied back into the ring. 
 
 Above the Babel of sounds could be heard, 
 " Two to one, bar one ! " and ** Fifty to one 
 against the favourite ! " 
 
 Jack believed in the Yorkshire horse— belief was 
 loyalty to his native county. He yielded to the 
 temptation, and, despite Mr. Dene's warning, 
 began to bet. Unluckily, he had five and twenty 
 pounds about him. He backed the favourite
 
 90 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 against the field, with the result that he lost 
 his money. 
 
 Kalph Hollis, too, was betting furiously, and 
 losing — indeed, scarcely knew himself what he 
 had lost. He only knew one thing — that three 
 weeks ago he had borrowed two hundred pounds 
 from Fitzherbert, and that he had solemnly pro- 
 mised to pay him the day after the Leger ; and, 
 amidst the riot, the confusion, and the pande- 
 monium, ho remembered that if this and other 
 moneys were not paid on settling-day, disgrace, 
 ruin, and all the rest of it might follow. But, in 
 the midst of all his excitement, he still kept his 
 eyes fixed on Jack Heywood. His plan had suc- 
 ceeded to admiration. The drink, and the excite- 
 ment, and the loss had been too much for the 
 young workman. By this time he was quite drunk, 
 and very quarrelsome. 
 
 He had parted with his five and twenty pounds 
 like a man, but the bookmaker insisted that he 
 ov/ed five and twenty pounds more, which, indeed, 
 he did, through some bungling in his betting. 
 
 At this moment Jabez came up. 
 
 When he saw the state of affairs he was ashamed, 
 and, indeed, a little angered, to see his boy in so 
 shameful a condition. 
 
 " Jabez, old man," cried Jack, clutching his arm, 
 " lend me five and twenty pounds." 
 
 In his intoxication he fell back into broad 
 Yorkshire. 
 
 " What for ?" asked Jabez.
 
 THE FEAST OF ST. LEGER, 91 
 
 *' Why, yon dog-faced rcshil says I owe it him, 
 BO shell out t' brass." 
 
 " My lad, I canuot. I havena got it." 
 
 " What ! " cried the lad ; " art ilioii gone back 
 on me ? Pretty chap thou art to stand by a friend 
 in a hoyle ! Hang such friends ! Get out for an 
 owd humbug ! " 
 
 The unhappy lad had indeed *'put an enemy 
 into his mouth to steal away his brains," and he 
 let forth a flood of abuse upon his friend and more 
 than father. The plungers quite enjoyed the 
 scene, and added fuel to the fire by some not par- 
 ticularly elegant chaff. The bookmaker alleged 
 that he did not know Jack, and demanded that he 
 should immediately *'pay up." 
 
 Jabez demurred; the bookmaker swore that 
 both Jack and his friend were " nobbut, more or 
 less, nor a pair 0' welshers " — words of direful 
 omen to a Yorkshireman. No sooner was it out of 
 his lips than the bookmaker was on his back, while 
 Jack strode over him, and requested him to get up 
 to be knocked down again. 
 
 The betting-man responded like a gamecock. 
 He was up in an instant, and going for Jack. 
 They rushed at each other like a pair of tigers, 
 amidst yells of encouragement from the by- 
 standers. 
 
 At the height of this scandalous scene, the 
 Denes, and Eachel, Mr. Lyster, and Mrs. Hollis, 
 appeared, passing from the Grand Stand above. 
 As Jack caught sight of them — above all, when
 
 92 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 be caught sight of Eachel's eyes — her look of 
 astonishment and disgust struck him -with a 
 sudden shock of pain. She scarcely paused a 
 moment in passing ; the next, she was gone ; but 
 she had seen it all. 
 
 As she passed forth, be said to the bookmaker, 
 *' Hold hard. There's my watch ; it's worth nearly 
 all thy brass. I'll send t' rest to-morrow." 
 
 "Nay, lad," replied the betting-man; "I'm 
 sure thou art a pluck'd un, and we Sheffield 
 grinders allays like a mon better after we've fowt 
 un. My name's Tom Yondal ; I'm to be found i' t' 
 Pot Market, Sheffield, any time." 
 
 Jack was angered with Eachel, with Ealph, with 
 the bookmaker, with everybody — above all, with 
 Jabez. Had Jabez only lent him that twenty-five 
 pounds, this calamity would not have occurred. 
 With the unreasoning fury of an unaccustomed 
 drunkard, he blamed every cause but the right 
 one. As he reeled along, elbowing his way through 
 the crowd to the railway-station, his demeanour 
 was so strange and wild as to attract universal 
 attention. He was so aggressive and pugnacious, 
 that had it not been for Jabez he would have 
 reached the police-station instead of the railway- 
 station. When at last, however, he got there, he 
 dragged Jabez into the refreshment-room, made a 
 grab at a bottle of champagne, dropped it, and 
 smashed it to pieces. 
 
 Then he snatched another, and knocked the 
 neck off itj cutting his hand in the operation.
 
 THE FEAST OF ST. LEGER. 93 
 
 Some of the Deepdale lads were tliere, and lie 
 invited them to join him. 
 
 " Sup, lads, sup. Now, lass," he continued, 
 " serve out some brandy and soda — lots of it. 
 That's your sort ! " 
 
 Finding it useless to attempt to restrain him, 
 Jabez went to see if he could find the station- 
 master to induce him to reserve a compartment, 
 so as to get the wretched lad home without further 
 mischief. While bent on this errand, he came 
 in contact with Jacob Dene, the vicar, and the 
 ladies. 
 
 There was no disguising from them the state of 
 affairs; therefore, addressing his employer, Jabez 
 said, '* I've nowt to say for t' poor lad, save that 
 he's had more than is good for un, and that it has 
 been given to un by them as owt to know better. 
 He's ne'er bin so afore, and please God'll ne'er be 
 BO agin. He's not only drunk, but mad — does na 
 know what he's sayin' or doin'. Unless I can get 
 him home, there'll be some mischief done. Please, 
 Mr. Dene, gie us a good word wi' station-master to 
 get t' lad in by hissen somewhere, if it be only in 
 a horse-box." 
 
 Angered as Jacob was, his regard for Jabez was 
 so great, that he assented to his wishes, and, at 
 his request, the station-master was induced, with 
 some difficulty, to reserve a second-class compart- 
 ment for Jabez, Jack, and half a dozen Deepdale 
 lads. 
 
 A very bad time they had of it until they got to
 
 94 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 Barnolby Junction. Jack qimrrellecl with every- 
 body in general, but with Jabez in particular. 
 Once, indeed, he threatened to throw him out 
 of the window. Drink had changed this genial, 
 gentle, lovable creature from a man into a wild 
 beast. 
 
 At last, his drunken fury wore itself out for the 
 time, and he fell into a stertorous sleep, which for- 
 tunately lasted until they got to Barnolby Junction. 
 Then Jabez drove him down to the mills, for he 
 could not bear that Joan should see the lad in so 
 sorry a condition. 
 
 Meantime, young Hollis was being driven home 
 from Barford by Fitzherbert in a high dog-cart 
 belonging to the Captain. Both were well warmed 
 with wine, and not a little excited, for Pialph had 
 lost large sums that day, and Fitzherbert was 
 clamorous for his money. 
 
 ''Make your mind easy," Ealph said; "I can 
 get the money, and I'll pay you. After all, this is 
 a good day's work for me.'" 
 
 " How's that ? " growled the officer. 
 
 " We doctored the favourite nicely ! Rachel 
 and the old man saw it all. I don't think that 
 young cub will be backed for a place again." 
 
 Fitzherbert deposited his friend at the outskirts 
 of Deepdale, and then turned his horse's head 
 back towards Barford. It was now quite dark, and 
 not a sound broke the stillness of the night. 
 
 "About that money?" asked the Captain. 
 
 " You shall have it. I'll come over to-morrow."
 
 AFTER THE LEGER. 95 
 
 The Captain nodded, and drove rapidly awa5\ 
 Ealpli Hollis walked on through the darkness in 
 the direction of the mill. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 AFTER THE LEGER. 
 
 For some years past Jabez had resided per- 
 manently at the mills. He had a small living- 
 room in the front or main building, and imme- 
 diately above the cashier's office. Here every 
 night he slept solitary and alone, ready for any 
 emergency which might occur. From his high 
 window could be seen, across a huge quadrangle, 
 the factories, the engine-rooms, and the great 
 warehouses in the rear. It was a lonely place by 
 night, and the overseer's life was lonely; but 
 Jabez Pryke, though he cared nothing for books, 
 had constant company in his own gentle thoughts. 
 His was an existence occupied with only two ideas 
 — devotion to his duty as his master's servant, and 
 love for the child of the woman sleeping in the 
 neighbouring churchyard. Among the treasures 
 in his barely furnished room was a picture of Jael, 
 a rude photograph taken one day at Barford. It 
 hung over his head, and night after night he raised 
 his eyes to it as to some pictured saint. 
 
 On that eventful night of the St. Leger, when 
 he arrived before the mills, supporting in his strong
 
 95 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 arms the half-insensible form of his foster-son, he 
 found the great iron gate closed. He rang the 
 gate-bell, and the dull clanging echoed dismally 
 through the night, till at last a light appeared, 
 and Joe Styles, the watchman, came, lantern in 
 hand, to answer the summons. Behind him fol- 
 lowed the great watch-dog Leo, a formidable 
 mastiff-bitch. 
 
 "Hullo, Jabez ! " cried the watchman, unlock- 
 ing the gate, and swinging it open. *' Back at 
 last?" 
 
 " Ay, mate," answered the overseer. " Here, 
 lend a hand, man ; I want to take Master Jack up 
 to my room." 
 
 "What's the matter wi' un?" asked Joe, with 
 a grin. "I saw un up at Doncaster flinging t' 
 brass about like mad. Ower much lemonade, I 
 doubt ? " 
 
 " The lad's ill, very ill. I canna tak un home 
 i' this state. He's got to sleep here i' t' mills." 
 
 *' All reet, Jabez," replied the watchman. 
 
 It was no easy task to get Jack along. He 
 was comatose, and though he moved his legs 
 mechanically, his head and arms swung forward, 
 and without powerful assistance he would have 
 fallen. But the two strong men lifted him bodily, 
 and carried rather than led him up the steep stone 
 stairs till they reached the topmost landing, and 
 drew him into the overseer's little room. Then, 
 while Joe lit a candle, Jabez placed the boy in a 
 chair. He sat there with ruffled hair, pallid face,
 
 AFTER THE LEGER. 97 
 
 and eyes lialf-closed, feverishly mutteriug to him- 
 self. One hand hung by his side like lead, the 
 other was thrust into his breast. The old watch- 
 dog, who knew him well, kept close, and licked the 
 hanging hand. 
 
 The watchman, a grim, grizzled veteran, stood 
 looking on, and, holding up the lantern, flashed 
 the light into his face. 
 
 " Poor lad, he's had his bellyful ! " he said, 
 half amused and half shocked. ** Say, Jabez, 
 Jem Wright t' stoker's sitting out wi' me i' the 
 engine-house, and we ha' a bottle 0' good stuff 
 yonder. Will ye come and take a sup ? " 
 
 " No ! " cried Jabez, fiercely. " Curse t' drink ! 
 Curse them that make it, and them that sell it ! 
 See what it's done this neet ! " 
 
 ** Sure enough ; but lad'll be reet i' the morn- 
 
 ing." 
 
 "He'll ne'er be reet again!" answered Jabez, 
 with a groan, like a deep sob. ** Lea' us together ; 
 I'll stop wi' him, and put him to bed." 
 
 The watchman nodded, and left the room, fol- 
 lowed by the mastiff. The moment he had gone, 
 Jabez turned and locked the door ; then, uttering 
 a low cry, knelt by the lad's side, and burst into 
 tears. 
 
 " Jack, Jack, my lad ! " he cried. " Won't 'ee 
 speak to me ? 'Tis me — Jabez ! Look up, lad, 
 look up ! " 
 
 But Jack made no sign ; he still sat in a state 
 of collapse, murmuring vacantly to himself. Then 
 
 n
 
 98 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 tenderly, like a woman, Jabez took off his coat 
 and waistcoat, relieved him of his necktie and 
 collar, and, raising him bodily, placed him upon the 
 bed. He fell there like a log, with a low, suffocating 
 moan. 
 
 Jabez bent over him, and looked into his face. 
 
 "'Tis strange," he said to himself; "I ha* 
 seen many a mon o'erta'en wi' the cursed drink, 
 but ne'er a one like this ! He's more like a mon 
 death-struck wi' poison ! Poor lad ! Poor lad ! " 
 
 "Water ! " moaned Jack, as if gasping for 
 breath. 
 
 Jabez moistened his parched lips, and laid his 
 head gently back upon the pillow. As he did so, 
 he saw the picture of Jael hanging over the head 
 of the bed. 
 
 " I promised to be a feyther to un," he cried, 
 stretching out his arms to the picture, while the 
 great tears rolled down his cheeks, " and I'll keep 
 my word. I ha' been a lonely man for thy sake, 
 Jael, but now thou hast gien me a son — thy living 
 image, wi' the same blue een and bonny golden 
 hair. Oh, my lass— my lass! just as your face 
 looked when we found thee dying i' t' snow is t' 
 lad's this neet ! " 
 
 Then, mastered by his emotion, he sank on 
 his knees by the bedside, and praj^ed aloud. 
 Prayer more unselfish, more solemn and touching, 
 never rose from the lips of man. And as he 
 prayed, he took the boy's clammy hand, which 
 Knig loose on the coverlet, and kissed it again and
 
 AFTER THE LEGER, 99 
 
 again. In bis own name, in the name of his ovai 
 love and sorrow, he asked God to pardon the lad 
 for his folly that day ; to watch over and preserve 
 him from future temptation ; to keep from his lips 
 the poison of drink; to strengthen him against 
 all evil ; to make him a happy man, and to crown 
 him with honour and prosperous days. Lastly, 
 with an infinite tenderness, he interceded for a 
 happy sequel to the lad's love for Eachel Dene. 
 
 "Lord, Lord, turn not the lass's heart against 
 un, but be kinder to my lad than Thou hast been 
 to me ! Keep him fro' lonesomeness like mine, 
 and answer his prayer wi' life and love ! " 
 
 Strong feeling makes even rough men eloquent, 
 and Jabez uttered his thoughts as if inspired. 
 Then rising to his feet, he looked down on Jack 
 with unutterable affection, for all the time it was 
 still Jael's face that he saw before him now, as he 
 had seen it the night she came home to die. 
 
 It was now getting late, and Jabez had still to 
 get down to the cottage, and break the news to the 
 old people. So, with one last look at the heavily- 
 sleeping lad, he left the room, closing the door 
 stiffly behind him. 
 
 " He'll be reet enough till I come back," he 
 muttered, " and I'll watch by his side all t' neet, 
 poor lad, poor lad ! 'Twill be a bitter wakening 
 for him to-morrow morn." 
 
 Descending the dark stairs, he passed the offices 
 below, and came out upon the courtyard, and 
 reaching the gate, opened it with his master key.
 
 I DO RACHEL DENE. 
 
 which he had taken down from a nail in the room 
 above. He was soon out in the open street, facing 
 wind and rain, for it was a stormy night. Looking 
 up at the mill building as he passed, he saw the 
 windows all dark and desolate, and wafted another 
 blessing to the lad lying asleep within. 
 
 His way lay through the town, and close past 
 the churchyard. As he passed the shadow of the 
 church, he ran up against a man. 
 
 "Confound you!" cried a voice; "where the 
 deuce are you rushing ? Who are you, eh ? " 
 
 "Jabez Pryke," answered the overseer. "Is 
 it thee, Master Ealph ? " 
 
 " Yes. Where are you bound ? " 
 
 "Down to Gaffer Heywood's cottage, sir." 
 
 "I thought you slept at the mill," said Ralph. 
 " By the way, how's young Hopeful ? Have you 
 taken him home ? " 
 
 " Nay, sir ; he be lying asleep i' my room at 
 t' mill. I'm going to tell the gaffer where he is, 
 and then come back and look after un till morning." 
 
 "I see," returned Ealph, with a laugh. "I 
 say, wasn't he awfully screwed ? Never saw a man 
 so gone in my life ! How did it happen ? " 
 
 "Maybe you can tell that better than me," said 
 Jabez, significantly. " Though t' poor lad was 
 o'erta'en, he's sober and hard-working, and never 
 came to this pass before." 
 
 "Well, good night," cried Ealph, moving away. 
 
 "Good neet," replied Jabez, coldly. "You'll 
 say nowt o' this to t' master ? "
 
 AFTER THE LEGER, loi 
 
 "I'm afraid he knows all about it, for everybody 
 saw the lad in his mad fit. However, if I can put 
 in a good word for him, I will ! " 
 
 Leaving Jabez Pryke to make the best of his 
 way down to the cottage, Ealph Hollis hurried on 
 eagerly in the direction of the mill. Once or 
 twice he paused and listened, but everything was 
 still, and not a soul was in the street. In a few 
 minutes he reached the street where the mill 
 buildings were situated, and stood looking up, as 
 Jabez had done, to the dark, dismal windows. 
 The light of the lamp suspended over the gate fell 
 upon his face, which was wild and pale as death. 
 He was still excited with the drink he had taken 
 during the day, and he shook like a leaf. 
 
 Drawing a flask from the breast-pocket of hia 
 great-coat, he took a long draught. Then, 
 approaching the gate, and touching it with his 
 outstretched hands, he peered in. All was dark 
 and silent. Suddenly, as he leaned against the 
 gate, it opened. 
 
 "The gate is unlocked!" he muttered, with a 
 low cry of surprise. " That's unfortunate, but it 
 shows the old fool will hasten back. If the thing 
 is to be done, there is not a moment to lose ! " 
 
 But his knees knocked together, and he trembled 
 from head to foot. Another draught at the flask 
 steadied him a little. For a minute yet he stood 
 hesitating. 
 
 ** It's sink or swim ! If I don't pay up to- 
 morrow everything will come out; and even if I
 
 102 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 am discovered, Jacob Dene will never send me to 
 gaol. Curse the money ! but I must have it, and 
 I know it's ilicre ! By God, I'll do it ! " 
 
 He crept into the yard, and approached the 
 stairs leading to the cashier's office. He paused 
 and listened again; there was not a sound, save 
 the moaning of the wind, and the pattering of the 
 rain. Groping his way up the stairs, he reached 
 the first floor. As he paused there, a low moaning 
 sound broke upon the ear, coming from the rooms 
 above. 
 
 "Heywood! I forgot him!'* thought Ralph. 
 "I must see if he is awake; if he is, and recog- 
 nizes me, I can soon frame an excuse for being 
 here." 
 
 He went on from stair to stair till he reached 
 the top floor, and paused outside the room where 
 Jack was lying. He knocked softly; there was 
 no answer. Then he quietly opened the door, and 
 peeped in. Jack lay tossing on the bed with his 
 eyes closed, muttering incoherently, seeing and 
 hearing nothing. 
 
 Ealph drew the door to, and slipt again down 
 the stairs.
 
 ( 103 ) 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 JABEZ PEYKE's vigil. 
 
 It was getting late when Jabcz Pryke readied the 
 cottage, but there was a light in the window, and, 
 entering without ceremony, he found the old 
 couple sitting up by the parlour fire. Jasper lay 
 back in his armchair, nursing his gouty knee, 
 while Joan, spectacles on nose, sat at the table 
 leaning on her elbows, and reading out of a news- 
 paper some days old. She looked up as J-ibez 
 entered, and greeted him by name. 
 
 " Is it thee, Jabez ? Welcome back, lad. But 
 Where's Jack?" 
 
 "Jack's not coming home t' neet," answered 
 the overseer, quietly. "I left him yonder at t' 
 mill." 
 
 "At t' mill!" echoed the old woman. Then, 
 startled by the strange expression on Jabez's face, 
 she added, " Summat's wrong. Speak out, Jabez 
 Pryke!" 
 
 " It's nowt, grannie ! " he replied, forcing a 
 smile. " Come, let me sit down, and I'll tell thee 
 all about it." 
 
 " Ay, sit down," said Jasper, hospitably. " Sit 
 down, lad, and tell us about t' Leger." 
 
 But as Jabez took a seat by the fire, Joan rose 
 angrily to her feet. 
 
 '• T' Leger ! " she cried. ** Hark to t' owd fool—-
 
 I04 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 he thinks o' nowfc but racing and siccan folly. But 
 I want to hear about Jack. Summat's wrong, I 
 say. No humbugging, Jabez ! " 
 
 " Nay, grannie." 
 
 " Thou mayst humbug Jasper theer, but 't won't 
 do wi' me. Look me in t' face, Jabez. AYhat's 
 come to our lad ? Where hast left him ? " 
 
 ** As I told thee," answered Jabez. *' At t' mill, 
 sound asleep in my bed." 
 
 " And why hast left him iliecr ? " 
 
 Jabez answered again, not lifting his eyes. 
 
 **Well, then, he were a bit lively — he took a 
 glass o'er much ; and — and — I thought it best he 
 should bide at t' mill till he came to hissen." 
 
 Jasper emitted a low whistle, Joan an indignant 
 exclamation. 
 
 ^' Dnmk, d'ye mean?" she cried. 
 
 "Well, a bit excited like," said the overseer. 
 " He was put out about t' favourite, and got 
 tasting with his friends, and — and — well, lads will 
 be lads, and 'tis nobbut once in t' year." 
 
 Though he forced a smile, and tried to speak 
 lightly, his face belied his words. His heart felt 
 cold and dead within him, and he was miserable 
 and ashamed. The old woman, watching him 
 keenly, saw that the affair was serious. 
 
 "He must ha' been bad indeed," she cried, "if 
 he couldna come home." 
 
 Jabez made no reply, but Jasper here took up 
 the thread of talk. 
 
 "Jabez is reet. If t' lad did get merry, 'tis
 
 JABEZ PRYKE'S VIGIL. 105 
 
 nobbut once a year. Lord, I ba' been tbat way 
 my sen, many a time ! " 
 
 ** Jack's not like //jec," snapped bis wife— 
 ''an idle, foolisb owd man, thinking 0' nowt but 
 idling and drinking, and smoking t' pipe in a 
 corner." 
 
 " Thankee, wife," returned Jasper, with a grin. 
 
 "Nay, Jack comes 0' better stuff; and if be 
 were overta'en, there's been some foul play, I 
 wager. Come, Jabez Pryke, I'll ha' the truth. 
 Tell it out like a man ! " 
 
 Thus urged, the overseer gave a somewhat rose- 
 coloured but fairly truthful account of what had 
 occurred ; described the scene in the betting-ring, 
 the meeting with Pachel and the Denes, the 
 encounter with Fitzherbert and Ealph Hollis, and 
 the other occurrences of that eventful day. 
 
 The moment he mentioned Ealph's name, Joan 
 interrupted him with a cry. 
 
 ''Drinking wi' Ealph Hollis? Then 'tis young 
 maister's doing ! I was sure there was foul play 
 in't. And Miss Eachel ? Did she see him when 
 the poor lad was o'erta'en like that ? " 
 
 "Ay, grannie," answered Jabez; "that's the 
 worst on't. Miss Eachel seed him, and so did all 
 our folk. I tried my beet to quiet un, but 'twas a 
 useless job." 
 
 "When t' drink's in, t' wit's out," observed 
 Jasper, sententiously. 
 
 "Hold thy tongue!" cried Joan. "Ay, I see 
 it all. 'Twas Ealph Hollis that made our lad
 
 io6 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 drink, and maybe put some stuff i' the glass to 
 steal away his brains." 
 
 "Nay, nay, grannie," said Jabez; "he'd ne'er 
 do that ! " 
 
 " I tell 'ee I know un. He'd gie his reet hand 
 to shame Jack in Miss Eachel's een. Ay, he's 
 a bad un, is Ealph Hollis, and comes o' a bad 
 stock. My poor lad! who ne'er takes a sip o' 
 liquor from one week's end to 'nother ! I'd ne'er 
 believe 't, Jabez, if thee hadna said it wi' thy 
 own lips." 
 
 Poor Jabez heard the reproach, and for the first 
 time in his life felt as if he had acted disloyal to 
 the boy he loved so much. Yet what could he 
 do? He was incapable of a lie, and he knew, 
 moreover, that Jack was sure of gentle judgment, 
 of tender sympathy in that house. And after all, 
 as he had said, it was but a single slip. One rainy 
 day does not make a flood; and one escapade, 
 however wild, would not convert the boy into a 
 drunkard. The fault could not be hidden now 
 from any one ; it would be redeemed by the future, 
 and perhaps be a fruitful warning. 
 
 Yet there was a load upon his heart which he 
 could not shake away. The shock had shaken him 
 more strangely than he ^^tl^Fav^^ought pos- 
 sible ; the boy's downfall seemed his own death- 
 blow. 
 
 " Cheer up," chirped Jasper, " The lad '11 be 
 all reet i' t' morning. Joan, gie Jabez a cup o* 
 our ale ; he's soaken wi' t' rain." 
 
 ..#
 
 JABEZ PRYKBS VIGIL. 107 
 
 ** Nay, Jasper," returned the overseer ; *' no ale 
 for me. I shall taste nobbut water fro' this day, 
 and if t' lad's "wise he'll do t' same." 
 
 "Amen to that!" said Joan. "Drink's the 
 scaith 0' t' world, and has killed more brave lads 
 than e'er fell i' bloody wars." 
 
 Jasper was dying to know about the St. Leger, 
 but in the presence of his wife he didn't dare to 
 speak. Fond of a glass himself, he thought that 
 a precious bit of trouble was being made out of a 
 very small affair. With Joan it was altogether 
 different. Through a grave woman's intuitive per- 
 ception she knew that Jack's conduct was at once 
 alarming and mysterious. He was not like other 
 lads ; his whole life had been one steady progress 
 upwards, and though on one or two occasions of 
 late he had been a little merry, he had never made 
 his folly a public exhibition, or quite taken leave 
 of his sober senses. She saw, too, that Jabez 
 Pryke was deeply agitated and concerned, and she 
 suspected, as was the case, that he made the best 
 of a picture necessity compelled him to draw of 
 the lad's escapade. 
 
 The worst of the whole business was that the 
 Denes were aware of what had taken place. 
 Eager to see the fulfilment of her prophesies 
 concerning her grandson and Eachel Dene, poor 
 Joan had began to dread a castle in the air. For 
 the first time in her life, Rachel had seen the 
 young workman to serious disadvantage, excited 
 by drink, quarrelsome, reckless, transported out
 
 loS RACHEL DENE. 
 
 of his usual gentle self. It ^^'as a bad day's 
 business. 
 
 Jabez rose to go. 
 
 "I'll get back," be said. *' I only came down 
 to let thee know the lad was safe wi' me." 
 
 " I ha' a mind to gang wi' thee," returned Joan, 
 sadly. 
 
 " Nay, bide here, granny ; he's all reet in my 
 bed, and I'll come down when he wakes i' the 
 morning." 
 
 Eager to prevent even Joan from seeing her 
 grandson in his physical and moral degradation, 
 Jabez succeeded in persuading her to remain where 
 she was. Besides, it was an ugly night, and it was 
 a goodish stretch to the mill. He shook hands 
 with Jasper, and then, bending over Joan, kissed 
 her on the forehead. 
 
 "It's nowt, grannie, it's nowt," he said. "I'll 
 go bail for our lad, he'll ne'er forget hissen again ; 
 and after all, lads will be lads." 
 
 He left her sitting in a brown study, tears in 
 her kindly old eyes, which were fixed on the fire. 
 Was it, she thought, a castle in the air, after 
 all ? Was Jack no hero, and she no prophetess, 
 and would there never be the wedding of which she 
 had long dreamed ? Hopeful by nature, and full 
 of faith in human nature, she soon began to 
 brighten. Jasper was right. Jasper had been no 
 saint, and yet he had been the best of husbands. 
 As for Jack, he had his wild oats to sow, and it 
 was just because he was so good that she had been
 
 JABEZ PRYKE'S VIGIL. 109 
 
 shocked by the account of his backsHding. By- 
 and-by, encouraged by her change of manner, 
 Jasper put in another word, and this time his wife 
 thought he spoke hke a sensible man. AVhen they 
 rose to go to bed, they were both of a mind. Jack 
 was a hero still, and that little affair of the 
 wedding was bound to come right. 
 
 Meantime Jabez Pryke walked back to the town 
 through the darkness and the rain. He did not 
 hasten, though it was getting very late, and, full 
 of his own disappointment, he was indifferent to 
 the weather. Argue with himself as he might, he 
 could not shake av/ay the gloom which oppressed 
 him. He had felt more passionately stirred on 
 more than one occasion, but never so cheerless 
 and depressed. His heart was like lead. Could 
 it be that the shadow of some dreadful calamity 
 was already upon him? If psychology be true, 
 that was possible. 
 
 He passed the churchyard, and, instead of turn- 
 ing into the town, walked on towards The Oaks, 
 and, full of some irresistible impulse, looked up at 
 the house of the Denes. The house was dark, but 
 a light burned in one of the upper windows. A 
 shadow crossed the blind, and he recognized it was 
 the shadow of Eachel Dene. 
 
 With the rain streaming upcn his world-worn 
 face, he watched the shadow come and go, and 
 prayed that God might be pitiful, and not turn the 
 maiden's heart against his boy. He would have 
 liked to enter and stand before her, and plead
 
 ixo RACHEL DENE. 
 
 poor Jack's cause, explaining his faults away. 
 His instinct told him that she would be a partial 
 listener. He had more dread of the stern old 
 Quaker, Jacob Dene. Proud to the backbone, and 
 severe on human error, Jacob would be certain to 
 take the worst view of the case. 
 
 Sighing heavily, he turned back into the dark- 
 ness, and walked slowly to the mill. 
 
 Alone in her chamber, daintily furnished with 
 every luxury that love and wealth can give, Rachel 
 sat before her mirror, thinking. Her hair flowed 
 down in a shower of gold over her loose dressing- 
 gown, and her bare feet were thrust into satin 
 slippers. She had dismissed her maid for the 
 night, and was quite alone. 
 
 All the evening she had been distraught and 
 sad, for her thoughts had been constantly with the 
 lad who had once saved her life. Up till that day 
 she had thought of him with kindness, had been 
 tender and grateful to him, eager for his success, 
 hopeful of his future, but she had been unconscious 
 of any stronger feeling towards him than one of 
 womanly sympathy. Now it was quite different. 
 The very shock she had received on witnessing his 
 degradation had opened her eyes, and she knew, 
 for the first time, how deep a lolace he had in her 
 young heart. 
 
 Jacob Dene had loudly expressed his indignation 
 — on the way home, at the dinner-table, in the 
 drawing-room after dinner — and she had been
 
 JADEZ PRYKE'S VIGIL. \\i 
 
 unable to say a word in Jack's defence, for she, 
 too, in spite of her ne^Yly-discovered affection, was 
 indignant. She could not shut away the sight she 
 had seen — the wild, flushed face, the struggling 
 form, the laughing crowd, the whole horrible scene 
 in the ring at Doncaster. Even in his madness, 
 however. Jack Heywood had looked a splendid 
 fellow, and he had never seemed so handsome 
 in her eyes. Hitherto he had appeared a little 
 commonplace, somewhat too uniformly good and 
 virtuous, with all the rough worth and steadiness 
 of the dull mechanic ; and Eachel, Quakeress as 
 she was, and innocent to the iinger-tips, had been 
 inclined to patronize him. Now, he seemed another 
 being — wickeder and wilder, of course, and more 
 dangerous. The best of women love a man who 
 can be reckless upon occasion, and Eachel was no 
 exception to the rule. She was shocked, she was 
 offended, she was amazed, she was intensely 
 indignant. But she was in love ! 
 
 She sat before the glass, looking wistfully at 
 herself, and thinking it all over. Her thoughts 
 went back to the time when she and Jack were the 
 poor siege-children, transplanted from India to 
 grow in Deepdale. She remembered Jack as a 
 boy, and afterwards as a bright, handsome lad, 
 whom she had almost looked upon as a brother. 
 All along she had been conscious of his timid 
 worship ; but never until to-day had she realized 
 the sentiment which had been slowly growing in 
 her own heart. The dawning of love in a young
 
 113 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 maid's heart is like the rosy flush of sunrise on 
 a summer dawn, when the leaves stir, the birds 
 begin to sing, and the air is full of a dewy sense 
 of joy. Full of her own loveliness, the warmth 
 of her own life, she felt her indignation die away 
 in a new sense of luxur}'^, of yearning. She would 
 have liked to have gone to Jack that very minute, 
 and comforted him, and made him promise never 
 to go wrong again. He was so bright, so clever ; 
 the world was beginning so well for him ; and yet 
 he was in trouble. Love and pity struggled within 
 her, and for the time being, in spite of moral 
 indignation, in spite of surprise and sorrow, the 
 lad's cause was won. 
 
 " How foolish I am ! " she thought. " I ought 
 to be very angry, for he looked dreadful, and 'tis 
 a shame indeed to see a man so degrade himself 
 before the world. I thought him so gentle and 
 quiet, too ! No wonder grandpapa was shocked ! 
 When I see Jack he shall know that I am very 
 angry!" 
 
 But, in a little while, she smiled at herself in 
 the glass, and murmured, softly, " Poor fellow ! "
 
 ( 113 ) 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 UP AT THE MILL. 
 
 The rain was falling fast, and Joe Styles, the 
 ^vatcllmau, after taking bis accustomed rounds, 
 which he did every two hours, was sitting in the 
 engine-room, smoking his pipe, and playing a 
 hand at cribbage with Jem Wright, the stoker, 
 who was, of course, off duty. The watch-dog, Leo, 
 lay fast asleep at his master's feet. 
 
 Both Styles and Wright had been to pay their 
 respects at the shrine of St. Leger, and were full 
 of the events of the day. 
 
 Both had lost in the mill sweepstakes, and both 
 were considerably vexed at the defeat of the 
 favourite. They kept a pretty sharp look-out on 
 the game, though, and it was only during the 
 intervals of dealing that they compared notes. 
 
 "Well, well," observed Styles; "hasn't Jack 
 Hey wood got his cargo aboard ! " 
 
 " I never heerd o' un i' that way afore," replied 
 Wright. 
 
 " Nor I either. He'll ha' an awful head on him 
 i' t' mornin'. It's nowt to say he was screwed; 
 he was clean daft. Well, t' lad will be sore 'shamed 
 o' hissen to-morrow — that is, if he remembers owt 
 about it. First game to me, Jem. It's thy deal, 
 lad. Gie us a bit o' baccy while I mek cards for 
 thee." 
 
 At this moment the clock struck twelve.
 
 114 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 Just upon the last stroke Jabez reached the mill. 
 As he got outside the quadrangle, looking up, he 
 saw a light in the counting-house. 
 
 Now, a light there after business hours was 
 unusual, hut a light there at midnight was extra- 
 ordinary'. 
 
 " It canna be Styles," muttered Jabez ; " he has 
 no means o' gettin' in. Except t' gaffer, no one 
 has the pass-key— nobbut mysen." 
 
 Quick as lightning it flashed through his mind 
 that many heavy remittances had arrived by that 
 morning's post, and that, in consequence of every- 
 body hurrying off to Barnolby to catch the train, 
 they might not have been paid into the bank. 
 
 "Anyhow," he continued, "the safe's all reet, 
 for I've got t' key here i' my pocket." 
 
 To his horror, he found that he had lost his 
 bunch of keys. 
 
 Then it occurred to him that, in his haste to get 
 away— for Jack was dreadfully afraid they would 
 miss the train — he had left the keys behind him. 
 
 For a moment the thought paralyzed him. It 
 seemed as if he had been guilty of a criminal 
 negligence, amounting almost to a breach of trust. 
 Suppose a robber, a burglar, should have found 
 his way to the counting-house ? 
 
 He grasped his stick firmly, and disappeared 
 rapidly down the passage which led to the con- 
 geries of offices amongst which the counting-house 
 was situated. Without thinking of alarming the 
 watchman, he passed alone up the stairs.
 
 UP AT THE MILL. 115 
 
 Meanwhile, fortune had been favourable to Jem 
 Wright in the contest at cribbage, which was still 
 going on at the engine-house. 
 
 ** Fifteen two, fifteen four, fifteen six, a pair's 
 eight, a pair's ten, and one for his nob's eleven. 
 Game, Joe." 
 
 ** Well, that's game and game ; now for the 
 conqueror, and I'll gang home. Tak' three while 
 I deal." 
 
 As Styles proceeded to deal the cards, a loud 
 cry, loud like a human cry, startled the players to 
 their feet. It startled the dog, too, who leaped up, 
 emitting a fierce growl. 
 
 " Jem," said Styles, dropping the cards, " there's 
 murder goiu' on somewhere, lad ! " 
 
 "It's a man a-callin'," responded the other. 
 "If it had been a woman, now, I'd ha' thowt 
 nought about it. Happen some chap might ha' 
 been purrin' her a bit to keep her in order, and 
 they wenches are apt to cry out afore theer 
 hurt ! " 
 
 Again came the cry, this time shriller than 
 before ; again Leo growled ominously. 
 
 " It's in t' mill, lad ! Bear a hand, and stir thy 
 stumps," said Styles ; " and bring wi' thee yon 
 crowbar — it may be useful." 
 
 So saying, they started for the front side of the 
 mill — the side from whence the sounds arose. 
 They reached the quadrangle. Once more came 
 the voice, getting feebler and feebler still. 
 
 f* Sure as death," said Styles, "that's Jabez
 
 ii6 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 Pryke's voice, if ever Jabez spoke. Let's put on 
 steam, or we may be too late." 
 
 As they rapidly crossed the quadrangle, they 
 heard above them the tramp of struggling feet, the 
 noise of furniture being overturned, and of men 
 engaged in a deadly strife. 
 
 Looking up, they saw, in a confused mass, the 
 shadows of two struggling human figures cast upon 
 the lighted window-blind of the counting-house. 
 Evidently two men were intertwined together in a 
 death-struggle. 
 
 The watchers stood paralyzed for a moment; 
 but as the dog leaped up, barking furiously, the 
 shadows melted away like a dissolving view. Then 
 they took a new shape. One figure stood erect 
 and alone, with arms thrust forth in defence or 
 defiance, while the other, recoiling from the fierce 
 impact, staggered backward, and vanished from 
 view. Simultaneously arose a terrible sound — a 
 shrill, piercing cry, like that of a dying horse in 
 the last moments of its agony, when torn to 
 pieces by shot or shell upon some bloody battle- 
 field; then came the dull, heavy thud of a 
 falling body, then silence, for even the dog 
 trembled and crouched in terror at his master's 
 
 heel. 
 
 The weird phantasmagoria we have endeavoured 
 to describe barely occupied thirty seconds; but 
 Buch seconds ! 
 
 As the solitary figure above stood erect and 
 motionless, with arms uplifted, a colossal silhouette
 
 UP AT THE MILL. 117 
 
 of despair, or remorse, or both, the watchman and 
 the stoker had arrived beneath the window. 
 
 The one took out his revolver and examined it 
 carefully in the moonlight, and grasped Leo by 
 the collar, while the other shouldered his crowbar, 
 and both men and dog disappeared noiselessly up 
 the dark, tortuous passage before them. 
 
 It took them a minute or two to thread their 
 way through the darkness before they could reach 
 the corridor on the first floor, where they were 
 brought to a halt by the sound of a voice exclaim- 
 ing, in agonizing tones, *'0h, Jabez, Jabez, 'tis I 
 who have killed thee ! " 
 
 At the sound, the mastiff struggled to get free. 
 
 Eeleasing him. Styles said, " Good lad, go for 
 un ! Hi, lad, go ! " 
 
 Growling fiercely, with eyes aflame, and bristling 
 hair, the dog sprang into the counting-house. 
 
 The men without waited anxiously for what 
 might come, for, when roused, Leo was a ferocious 
 brute. To their astonishment his yells of defiance 
 subsided into a howl so pathetic, that it reminded 
 Joe (who had served in the constabulary in the 
 sister isle) of the plaintive wailing of women at an 
 Irish keening. 
 
 They stayed to hear no more, but burst into the 
 room. 
 
 What a sight it was that met their eyes ! 
 
 The safe, thrown wide open, appeared to have 
 been rifled; the cash-box lay overturned on the 
 floor, and its contents — coin, drafts, and bank-
 
 ii8 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 notes — were scattered in reckless confusion in 
 every direction ; the scanty furniture was over- 
 turned and broken; while midst the debris, with 
 white face, and glaring eyes, and gashed temples, 
 lay Jabez Pryke, stone dead, in a pool of blood. 
 
 Over the body stood Jack Hey wood. 
 
 He was half dressed, and seemed wholly 
 demented. 
 
 His shirt and his hands were bedabbled with 
 blood, his hair stood up erect, and his eyes were 
 starting from his head. The dog lay whining and 
 shivering at his feet ; while, utterly regardless of 
 the men's appearance. Jack continued to bewail 
 the murdered man, with tears and cries, and sobs 
 of half-stupefied remorse. 
 
 Finding it impossible to obtain any coherent or 
 rational statement from him, Styles despatched 
 the stoker to ring the alarm bell, while he, still 
 gripping his revolver, continued to mount guard. 
 A minute afterwards the bell rang out through the 
 storm, startling hill and dale. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 THE DEAD MAN. 
 
 The bell rang out in the night, high above the 
 shrill crying of the wind, startling every dwelling 
 in Deepdale, and sounding far away across the 
 lonely rain-beaten moor. In an incredibly short
 
 THE DEAD MAN, iiQ 
 
 space of time the streets and lanes were thronged 
 with masses of people surging towards the mill in 
 a murmuring stream. 
 
 " What's t' matter ? " " Hast t' reservoir bust 
 up at t' head, or is t' mill afire?" ''Who's 
 ringing t' bell ? " " Hark yonder ! " " This way 
 — this way ! " were some of the cries that rose 
 upon the night. 
 
 The throng swept in at the mill gate, and filled 
 the great quadrangle. Men, women, lads and 
 lasses, little children, confusedly mixed together. 
 They saw with wonder the lights in the upper 
 windows of the main building ; they heard the bell 
 shrieking high above them ; and while the rain 
 swept down upon them, and the wind moaned, 
 they were moving towards the passage leading 
 upward, when the bell suddenly ceased, and the 
 figure of the stoker appeared before them crying, 
 *' Silence ! keep back, lads ! " And in answer to 
 their questioning cries, he added, "It's murder, 
 lads ! T' overseer's Ij^ing up yonder, dead ! " 
 
 Then, in spite of his warnings, they flocked up 
 the stair, and the foremost among them rushing 
 into the room, saw Jack Heywood standing over 
 the overseer's dead body moaning and wailing, 
 while the dog crouched at his feet, and the watch- 
 man looked on aghast. From those who crowded 
 into the room, to those who ranged outside, from 
 the counting-house to the quadrangle, from the 
 quadrangle to the street, and on through the little 
 town, the news spread like wild-fire. Murder had
 
 120 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 been done ! Jabez Pryke bad been killed up at 
 tbe mill, and young Jack Heywood had been taken 
 almost red-banded in the act. 
 
 Had he been any other than Jack Heywood he 
 would have been torn to pieces by the mob ; but 
 he was too well known and too beloved, and those 
 who knew them could scarcely believe their eyes 
 or ears. So, when the constables appeared pushing 
 their way through the throng, and had their hands 
 upon him, there was a murmur of wonder, almost 
 of indignation. Eapidly and breathlessly the 
 watchman panted out his story, and told all that 
 he had heard or seen. Jack listened as if dazed, 
 but when the constables seized him he uttered a 
 shriek, and tried to tear himself free. 
 
 At this juncture Jacob Dene ai)peared, looking 
 white and stern. Told the whole terrible truth, 
 he gazed at the wretched lad, saying, "I warned 
 thee, Jack Heywood. This comes of the drink 
 that made thee mad at Doncaster. Thou hast 
 slain thy best friend." 
 
 "Jabez, Jabez ! " shrieked Jack, gazing in horror 
 and despair on the dead man. 
 
 There was no doubt; he was dead indeed. A 
 doctor, summoned in haste, pronounced life to bo 
 quite extinct. Horrified and awe-stricken, the 
 crowd looked on, while the constables handcuffed 
 their prisoner, in spite of his appealing cries. 
 
 Suddenly there came another sound, the shriek 
 of a woman. Wild, ghastly, tottering, Joan 
 Heywood pushed her way into the counting-house
 
 THE DEAD MAN. 121 
 
 like one demented; but when she saw the man, 
 who had parted from her full of lusty life only an 
 hour before, lying dead upon the floor ; when she 
 beheld the other, whom she loved dearer than her 
 own life, standing there with hair and hands 
 bedabbled with blood, she fell wailing upon her 
 knees, and with outstretched arms besought her 
 grandson to prove his innocence of a crime so 
 hideous. Dazed and stupefied. Jack ceased to 
 struggle, and looked at her wildly ; then, with a 
 mad cry, he hid his face in his hands and sobbed 
 aloud. 
 
 That night was one long remembered in Deep- 
 dale. Men and women thronged the streets till 
 daybreak, discussing the terrible event. Hitherto, 
 in that happy valley, crime of any serious kind 
 had been almost unknown ; and now, for the first 
 time, the peaceful spell was broken by a deed so 
 horrible, so infamous, as almost to transcend belief. 
 
 Meantime Ralph Hollis had let himself in with 
 his latchkey, and gone to bed at once. When the 
 news of the murder reached the Vicarage, as it did 
 before many hours had passed, Mrs. Hollis tried 
 her son's door and found it locked; then she 
 knocked softly, but received no reply. 
 
 "Poor lad, he is tired out!" she said. "Let 
 him rest till the morning — it will be time enough 
 to tell him then." 
 
 But Ralph Hollis knew too well alrcad3\ Crouch- 
 ing in his chamber, he had heard the tolling bell.
 
 132 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 the tumult, the alarm ; and peering from his 
 window he saw the lights moving about the town, 
 and the whole place awake. Towards daybreak 
 he fell into a troubled sleep, broken by bad dreams. 
 He was awakened by a knocking at his door, and 
 opening his eyes, saw the daylight streaming in at 
 the window. 
 
 " Ealph ! " cried his mother's voice. " Are you 
 awake?" 
 
 " Yes, mother." 
 
 ** There has been murder at the mill. Jabez 
 Pryke, the overseer, has been killed by young 
 Hey wood. Get up at once ! " 
 
 He heard her descend the stairs, and staggered 
 from his bed, his eyes wild, his face blanched and 
 terror-stricken. Instinctively he moved to the 
 glass, and shuddered at the reflection mirrored 
 there. His head went round, his brain was still 
 full of the fumes of drink, and he could hardly 
 realize what had occurred. When he did so, he 
 sank as if paralyzed on his knees by the bedside, 
 and hid his face in his hands. Nearly an hour 
 passed thus, when he was disturbed by a second 
 knocking at his door, and started up, trembling 
 like a leaf. 
 
 " Ealph, are you ready ? " cried the voice. 
 
 "I am dressing, mother ! " 
 
 His parched and bloodless lips could hardly 
 frame the words. 
 
 " Let me in ! I mmt speak to you ! " 
 
 He hesitated for a moment, then conquering
 
 THE DEAD MAN. 123 
 
 himself with an effort, he opened the door. To 
 his surprise, his mother, scarcely looking into his 
 face, threw her arms wildly around his neck. 
 
 "Mother, is it true," he gasped, "that the 
 overseer " 
 
 "Yes, he has been murdered, and the whole 
 place is in alarm ! " she replied. Then, looking 
 into his face and seeing it so white and bloodless, 
 she added, " No wonder you are horrified ! It is 
 terrible ! Young Heywood did it, and has been 
 arrested ! " 
 
 " My God ! " he murmured. 
 
 " But it is not that which has brought me back 
 again. Oh, Ealph ! I am sorry, very sorry, for 
 Algy, but I cannot forget that he was always so 
 unkind to you, my darling! " 
 
 " What do you mean ? " cried Ralph, 
 
 " Eead that ! " she answered, putting a telegram 
 into his hand. With eyes dim, and head swimming 
 round, he read as follows : — 
 
 " To Ralph, Earl of Beauchamp, the Vicarage, 
 Deepdale. 
 
 "My Lord, 
 
 "Y'our uncle died this morning, at 
 two o'clock. I await your lordship's commands. 
 
 "Richard Barkins."
 
 124 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE INQUEST. 
 
 Although Jack Heywood was a general favourite, 
 opinion at the moment of his arrest was much 
 divided against him. For the news had spread 
 everywhere of the fight at Doncaster ; of the 
 violent altercation, and the yet more violent 
 threats uttered against Jahez in Jack's drunken 
 frenzy during the homeward journey ; of the sus- 
 picious circumstances under which he was found 
 with the murdered man ; and, lastly, of his own 
 self-uphraidings and self-accusations. 
 
 Despite all this, there were two or three women 
 who believed in the lad's innocence, as trul}^ as 
 they believed in the justice of Heaven. 
 
 "Were they to lay down a pack o' Bibles, and 
 swear he did it, I wouldn't believe 'em ! My own 
 heart knows my boy is innocent ! " sturdily declared 
 Joan Heywood. And Eachel ? When Jacob Dene 
 alleged that Jack was guilty, she said, quietly, 
 "Grandpa, if that is thy opinion, we need not 
 discuss the matter any further. I've known Mr. 
 Heywood from childhood, and know that he is not 
 capable of an act so wicked." 
 
 " I believe the child is right," chimed in Mrs. 
 Dene. 
 
 " I hope it may prove so," rejoined Jacob ; " but 
 things look black against him."
 
 THE INQUEST. 123 
 
 Meanwhile the body of the murdered man had 
 been left alone, while Jack was also put under 
 lock and key at the Bound House; nor was ho 
 alone either, for even the autocrat of Deepdalo 
 could not find it in his heart to say nay to Joan 
 Heywood's request to be permitted to stay with 
 her grandson. 
 
 The poor soul watched over his fevered sleep 
 for the night, and administered such homely 
 remedies as her own experience might suggest, or 
 Doctor Whitaker's skill prescribe, but administered 
 them in vain, for as yet the wretched lad lay void 
 of sense and motion, almost of life. 
 
 When he returned to consciousness, and found 
 himself in the Bound House, he could not compre- 
 hend what had brought him there ; or why his 
 head was splitting, his throat parched and swollen, 
 and his whole body a burning fire. As yet he 
 could not form his thoughts into shape ; indeed, 
 he had no clear recollection of anything which 
 had occurred after the affair in Doneaster. The 
 drink which in the first instance had maddened 
 him, in the second had stupefied his senses into 
 oblivion. 
 
 After vainly trying to arrive at a conclusion 
 whether he w^as awake or dreaming, he turned and 
 caught sight of Joan Hey wood. 
 
 Starting up, he tried to speak ; but he was 
 unable to articulate a syllable. 
 
 As he fell back, he pointed to his choking throat, 
 and Joan quickly brought him some water.
 
 135 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 When he had allayed his raging thirst ho 
 gasped, "What's come, granny? and why am I 
 here ? " 
 
 "They brought thee here last neet, lad," she 
 answered sadly. 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 **I canna tell thee." 
 
 *' Canna tell, canna tell ! Surely it's not for 
 punchin' that thief s head at Doncaster ? Don't 
 cry, granny, don't cry, but send for grandad and 
 Jabez to get mc out of this rat-trap." 
 
 "Jabez, lad, Jabez," moaned the old woman; 
 " woes me, poor Jabez ! " 
 
 And she broke down utterly. 
 
 There was no help for it; he must know all. 
 Better that he should learn it from her than from 
 his gaoler. 
 
 When at length the truth was borne in upon 
 the wretched lad's mind, his amazement and 
 consternation were only equalled by his grief. 
 At first the thing appeared too monstrous, too 
 incredible for belief. Yet, even as she spoke, he 
 saw, or seemed to see, as if in some awful vision, 
 the white face of Jabez, the staring eyes, the pool 
 of blood, the open safe, the rifled cash-box, and the 
 dog crying at his feet. 
 
 Could it be possible that, in the delirium of 
 drink, he had dared to lift his parricidal hand 
 against his friend, his more than father ? If he 
 knew himself, that could never be, for truly he 
 would gladly have laid down his own life for Jabez
 
 THE INQUEST. 127 
 
 Pryke. But, alas ! he knew also that yesterday 
 he was not himself ! 
 
 Catching sight of his blood-stained linen, and 
 his bloody hands, he flung himself on the ground 
 in an agony of grief. His tears, his cries, his 
 inarticulate expressions of anguish, pierced the 
 poor grandam's heart. She tried to soothe him, 
 but in vain ; he was inconsolable. Under any 
 circumstances, the loss of Jabez would have been 
 one of the greatest calamities which could have 
 befallen him ; but to lose him under such circum- 
 stances was beyond horror. He tried to think, to 
 recall what had happened; but some connecting 
 link of memory was gone altogether, or, at any 
 rate, refused to cohere. How came he at the mill 
 at all ? That was the very first question he asked 
 himself; but he was unable to answer it. When 
 Joan explained that Jabez had taken him there, 
 he had not the faintest recollection of the occur- 
 rence. The pressure on his nerves was so great, 
 the charge against him so awful, the crime itself 
 BO foul, strange, and unnatural, that the bare 
 thought of it drove him to despair. 
 
 " Oh, grannie, grannie," he cried, *' you know 
 I couldiia do it ; my arm would have rotted from 
 my body first ! But could — oh, could I, while that 
 infernal poison was working i' my brain — could 
 I have been so mad, so wicked, as to lift my hand 
 against him ? Oh, that I were dead ! God knows 
 I would have died fifty times over for his sake. Oh, 
 Jabez, Jabez, my dear old dad — my dear old dad ! "
 
 128 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 Joan tried by every means in licr power to 
 awaken his dormant memory and to supply the 
 missing link, but in vain. 
 
 Meanwhile, the sad news had an unlooked-for 
 effect on Jasper Heywood, for it cured his rheu- 
 matics like magic. 
 
 Jumping out of bed, he roared, " It's a lie— a 
 lie of the devil's own making ! An' Jabez, too- 
 dear old Jabez ! Why, t' lad wouldn't 'a harmed 
 a hair o' his head! He loved un too well for 
 that ! " 
 
 With that he scrambled into his clothes, and, 
 regardless of his rheumatism, ran up the valley to 
 the Eouud House like a two-year-old. 
 
 Throwing his arms round Jack, he cried, " Cheer 
 up, lad— cheer up ! If all t' saints in t' calendar 
 were to come back to life and swear they seed it, 
 I'd tell 'em they were liars! /And a thief, too! 
 Why, dang un, theer never was a thief i' t' family, 
 from curfew time upwards ! As for brass, why, 
 we've gotten enow, and to spare ! Go thy ways, 
 owd woman, to Barford, and see owd Grainger, t' 
 lawyer, and tell un to come here and stand up for 
 Jack at crowner's 'quest. Go at once, lass, and 
 I'll stay here and blow a bit o' baccy wi' t' lad." 
 
 Without another word, Joan went off to Barford 
 to retain the solicitor, while Jasper tried to cheer 
 up his unfortunate grandson. 
 
 At the post-mortem examination it was discovered 
 that Jabez's skull was badly fractured, and that
 
 THE INQUEST. 129 
 
 the temporal artery of the right temple had been 
 severed as clearly as if it had been cut in two 
 with a lancet. 
 
 When the inquest took place the next day, the 
 jury, after hearing the evidence of Stokes and 
 "Wright, at the coroner's direction, without a 
 moment's hesitation, returned a verdict of "Wilful 
 murder " against Jack, who was that night trans- 
 ferred to Barford. When brought before the 
 stipendiary, Grainger, the solicitor, alleging that 
 he had not yet had time to consult his client, 
 requested a remand, which was granted to that 
 day week. 
 
 Barford Gaol was not Deepdale Eound House ; 
 and when, after a painful parting with his grand- 
 father and grandmother, Jack was consigned to 
 his solitary cell, he appeared quietly but utterly 
 demented. 
 
 The mystery and the horror of the thing 
 increased day by day, and no single ray of light 
 appeared to illumine the darkness which enshrouded 
 it. Up at the Oaks, and down at the cottage, and 
 through the whole valley of Deepdale, men's minds, 
 and women's, too, were occupied with nothing else. 
 The men saw the case with their heads, and they 
 were reluctantly compelled to arrive at the conclu- 
 sion that, in a fit of mad drunkenness, Jack had 
 done the deed. The women, who saw only with 
 their hearts, refused to believe that it was pos- 
 sible for him, under any circumstances, to kill 
 the man he loved so dearly. Both men and 
 
 K
 
 I30 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 women sympathized with the unhappy lad in his 
 tribulation. 
 
 As for Eachel, angry, ashamed as she was at the 
 disreputable scene in Doncaster, she never beheved 
 for an instant that his was the hand that struck 
 the blow. 
 
 Jacob Dene and the vicar were both puzzled at 
 the commission of such a crime in the absence of 
 all motive. Their opinions, however, underwent a 
 change in consequence of a piece of evidence which 
 transpired at the next examination. The betting 
 man from Sheffield, reading an account of " The 
 Deepdale Mystery " in the Yorkshire Post, con- 
 cluded to make tracks for Barford, to see if there 
 was any chance of " copping " that five and twenty 
 pounds which Jack had omitted to send him. 
 
 Now, it must be premised that, after repeated 
 consultations with his client, Mr. Grainger could 
 make neither head nor tail of his case. The 
 evidence for the prosecution commenced with the 
 statement of the Deepdale lads who had accom- 
 panied prisoner and deceased from Doncaster. 
 They testified to prisoner's mad demeanour, his 
 violence, his abuse, and his threats. Then came 
 the watchman and the stoker ; and, lastly, to the 
 astonishment of everybody, Mr. Thomas Yondal. 
 
 That worthy had made some inquiries of the 
 chief constable, with the result that, almost before 
 he knew where he was, he found himself in the 
 witness-box. He deposed as to the betting, and 
 the fight at Doncaster ; the debt of five and twenty
 
 THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP, 131 
 
 pounds; prisoner's appeal to deceased to pay it; his 
 refusal, and the subsequent quarrel. 
 
 As Grainger listened, be felt that every word of 
 this evidence was a strand in the rope that was 
 to hang his unfortunate client ; and ho merely 
 shrugged his shoulders, stating that he reserved 
 his defence. 
 
 "That being the case," said the stipendiary, 
 "the prisoner is committed to take his trial at 
 Leeds Assizes." 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP. 
 
 Within an hour after he had heard the news of 
 his accession to the earldom, Ealph Hollis was on 
 horseback, riding full-speed to Barford. Wild and 
 pale, with blood-shot eyes, he had come from his 
 chamber to receive the congratulations of his 
 mother and the vicar ; then, without breakfasting 
 — for he declared he had no appetite — he had gone 
 round to the stable, and ordered his horse to bo 
 saddled at once. 
 
 " Poor boy ! " sighed his mother. " The surprise 
 was a joyful one, but a shock notwithstanding. He 
 can scarcely realize his good fortune." 
 
 Ealph returned to the front of the house, followed 
 by the groom leading the horse. Mrs. Hollis came
 
 132 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 out to the porch, and was again startled to see 
 how dazed and strange her son still appeared. 
 
 "Mother," he said nervously, "I am just going 
 over to Barford, and shall telegraph to London 
 from there." 
 
 ''Won't you go first to the Oaks, and tell the 
 Denes ? " 
 
 *' I leave that to you," answered the young man. 
 " I shall be back very soon. What with one thing 
 and another, I feel rather upset. I shall be all 
 right after a gallop in the fresh air." 
 
 Grasping the reins with hands that trembled 
 violently, he mounted his horse and rode rapidly 
 away, his mother watching him with proud and 
 loving eyes till he disappeared. In her joy at the 
 good fortune, Mrs, Hollis had quite forgotten the 
 dark affair which had occurred the previous night. 
 All her heart was full of pride and happiness. 
 
 " I will go to Eachel," she said, *' and tell her 
 the good news." 
 
 So, while Ealph was riding towards Barford, 
 she went and found Eachel Dene. But when she 
 spoke of Pvalph's good fortune, of his accession to 
 wealth and a great title, Eachel scarcely seemed 
 to hear or heed. The young girl's whole heart 
 was occupied with two feelings — tenderness for 
 the poor lad just committed for a terrible crime, 
 and indignation against those who could possibly 
 believe him guilty. All her soul was at last awake. 
 Sharp on her discovery of the true state of her 
 feelings towards Jack Heywood had come the
 
 THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP. 133 
 
 announcement that lie was a criminal, arrested for 
 murder. It was almost too horrible for belief. 
 
 "Are you not glad, Kachel," said Mrs. Hollis, 
 ** of my boy's good fortune ? " 
 
 Eachel looked at her sadly, with eyes full of tears. 
 
 " Of course I am glad, for his sake," she 
 answered; "but to-night I can think of one 
 thing only — 'tis so strange, so terrible ! Mr. 
 Heywood is accused of murdering his foster-father, 
 and, although I am sure he is innocent, it looks 
 so black against him." 
 
 Mrs. HoUis looked in her face, and saw there, 
 with womanly instinct, the confession of the truth 
 — that Eachel had given her heart to the man 
 who had once saved her life. Well, after all, it 
 did not matter much now. The new Earl of 
 Beauchamp might look higher than the heiress 
 of the Denes. The day before, such a match would 
 have been social salvation for her son — for them 
 all ; but a few hours had changed the cards, and 
 Ealph was master of the situation. 
 
 Meantime, Ealph rode towards Barford. Quitting 
 Deepdale by the high road, he reached the open 
 moor, and, drawing rein, looked back and saw, 
 looming darkly against the morning sky, the black 
 outline of the mills. A shudder ran through his 
 frame as he thought of the dead man lying there, 
 and of the living man already a prisoner in the 
 Eound House. 
 
 "My God!" he murmured. "If I had only 
 known yesterday ! Too late — too late ! "
 
 134 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 Full sunsliine lay upon the moor and sparkled 
 on the river, for the clouds of last night's rain had 
 passed away, and fresh airs were winnowing the 
 sky to purest azure. All the world looked bright 
 and glad ; but Ealph saw only darkness and desola- 
 tion. Haggard and pale, he turned his horse's 
 head again, and hurried on. 
 
 It was a good long ride to Barford, and more 
 than once on the way thither he halted at roadside 
 inns, and plied himself with ardent spirits. The 
 liquor put some heart into him, and brought a 
 little colour to his cheeks, so that by the time he 
 reached the great town he was more master of 
 himself. Eiding up to the principal hotel in the 
 High Street, he dismounted, handed his horse to 
 an ostler, and strolled into the coffee-room. He 
 had not yet breakfasted, but he felt no hunger 
 whatever; so he ordered a glass of brandy, and 
 had just drunk it when a hand was laid upon 
 his shoulder. Starting, and growing deadly pale, 
 he turned and encountered the familiar face of 
 Captain Fitzherbert. 
 
 "Hullo, old fellow," said the Captain; "3^ou've 
 left your premises and come over early. Come to 
 settle, eh? I'm glad of that, for some of our 
 fellows were talking about you last night, and 
 were rather rusty." 
 
 Ealph did not answer ; his tongue clung to the 
 roof of his mouth, and he trembled nervously. 
 
 "Anything the matter?" asked Fitzherbert, 
 looking at him in some astonishment.
 
 THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP. 135 
 
 *' Nothing, nothing ! " answered the young man. 
 "I'm a little upset after yesterday, that's all ! " 
 
 "Hot coppers, eh? By-the-by, what's this 
 about a murder down at Deepdale ? The news 
 came over this morning by the carrier." 
 
 " It isn't exactly a murder," said Ralph, avert- 
 ing his eyes, and looking through the window into 
 the street. ** A row of some sort between our old 
 overseer and that young fellow we had in tow 
 yesterday. The lad got blind drunk, there was a 
 quarrel, and something ugly happened. But it 
 isn't murder ! No, no ! not murder ! " 
 
 The Captain's face grew very grave. 
 
 "I'm confoundedly sorry," he said. " The old 
 man has been killed, at any rate, hasn't he ? " 
 
 Ealph nodded. 
 
 " Well, it's an ugly business for both of us ! " 
 
 " For us ! What business is it of ours ? " 
 
 " Well, we played the youngster a trick, didn't 
 we, and doctored his drink ? The cursed stuff 
 must have made a madman of him, and you 
 see " 
 
 " It was only a lark," cried Ealph, eagerly. 
 "How could we foresee what was going to 
 happen ? As for the lad, I'm sorry for him, and 
 I'll do my best to help him — yes, by the Lord, I 
 will ! " 
 
 " I hope you will," returned Fitzherbert. " But 
 now, about our fellows and that money ? Have 
 you got it ?" 
 
 " No," was the reply.
 
 136 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 " Then I'm afraid there'll be a row. I warned 
 you," said the Captain. 
 
 " I think they'll give me time," said Ealph, 
 forcing a sickly smile. " Yon will, at any rate, 
 won't you ? The fact is, old fellow — but haven't 
 you heard ? I'm in clover at last ! The old man 
 died last night, and I got the telegram this 
 morning." 
 
 Fitzherbert was at once astonished and de- 
 lighted. 
 
 " I'll tell the boys," he cried. " Give you time ? 
 I should think they would now." But he added 
 as he wrung the young Earl's hand, " I'm sorry 
 about that poor devil of a workman, though ! I 
 wish we hadn't met him yesterday." 
 
 While Fitzherbert went round to the barracks 
 to tell the officers of his friend's change of fortune, 
 Ealph ordered breakfast to be prepared in a private 
 room. When the meal was ready he entered the 
 chamber, and found a fire burning on the hearth, 
 and everything very comfortable. 
 
 "I'll ring if I want anything more," he said to 
 the waiter. ** Stop, though ; I want you to send 
 me a telegram. Bring me a form at once." 
 
 When the man brought the form, Ralph wrote 
 the telegram out as follows, and addressed it to 
 Barkins, the confidential valet of the deceased 
 Earl :— 
 
 " Yours received, I shall come on to London 
 as soon as possible. Beauchamp, White Lion 
 Hotel, Barford. "
 
 THE EARL OF DEAUCHAMP. 137 
 
 Directly the waiter left the room, Ealph rose up 
 and locked the door ; crossing to the window, 
 which was on the first floor, he looked out 
 nervously into the street ; then, secure from obser- 
 vation, he opened his coat, and took from the 
 breast pocket a roll of bank-notes and papers. 
 His hands shook like leaves, and his face was 
 as white as death, as he turned the papers 
 over. 
 
 Startled by the sound of footsteps along the 
 corridor, he thrust them back into his bosom, and 
 stood listening ; but the steps passed by, and he 
 breathed again. Conquering his agitation with a 
 great effort, he knelt down before the fire, and 
 placing the papers one by one in the blaze, 
 watched them rapidly consuming; bank-notes, 
 bills of exchange, letters of credit, all shared the 
 same fate. In a few minutes, every one of them 
 had disappeared, save for a few charred fragments 
 and pieces of film that fluttered on the top of the 
 blazing coal. As if fearful that even these might 
 betray his secret, he seized the poker and dis- 
 persed the ashes into the surrounding flame. At 
 last, rising to his feet, he stood again listening. 
 All was quite silent. He went tip -toe to the door, 
 unlocked it stealthily, and then sat down to 
 breakfast. 
 
 He could not eat; he was too spirit- shaken and 
 terrified; but he hurriedly drank some cups of 
 tea, and swallowed a few morsels of dry toast. He 
 rose again, and looked in the mirror over the
 
 T38 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 mantelpiece; Ins face was like a cleatl man's, and 
 his head was swimming round. 
 
 A sound of voices, mingled with merry laughter, 
 came from helow, and, ascending the stairs, 
 approached nearer and nearer. 
 
 ** Eoom twenty-five — all right ! " cried the voice 
 of Fitzherbert. 
 
 The next moment the Captain appeared, accom- 
 panied by several young officers of the fighting 
 Forty-First. 
 
 " Here we are ! " cried Fitzherbert. " Come to 
 congratulate you, old boy ! " 
 
 And Ealph, surrounded on every side by his 
 friends, and felicitated on his good fortune, forcing 
 a spasmodic gaiety, bade them welcome, and ring- 
 ing the bell, ordered champagne and cigars. After 
 a glass or two, he felt better, laughed and joked, 
 and made as merry as possible. Not a word was 
 said on either side of the paper with his signature 
 which some of these young bloods held in their 
 possession. Ealph was the hero of the hour. 
 
 He did not return to Deepdale that night, but, 
 while Jack Heywood was languishing in prison, 
 kept it up royally with the officers and Fitz- 
 herbert. Play ensued, of course, and the young 
 Earl lost as usual ; but he did not care, and dis- 
 tributed his paper merrily to the winners, who 
 "were well content to take it. It was long after 
 midnight when he staggered to his bed in the 
 hotel, and fell into a drunken sleep. 
 
 He woke next morning with a splitting head-
 
 THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP. 139 
 
 aclie ; but in spite of that, his nerves were calmer, 
 and he had made up his mind to the situation. 
 The Barford newspapers were full of long accounts 
 of the Deepdale tragedy. Sitting at breakfast in 
 his private room, he read through all the horrible 
 details of the murder, the prisoner's arrest and 
 self-accusations, the overwhelming and damning 
 ]Droofs against him. 
 
 *' Poor devil ! " thought Ralph the Earl. " One 
 comfort is, they can't make it anything worse than 
 manslaughter. If it was a hanging matter, I 
 think I should go mad ! " 
 
 He was now resolved not to return to Deepdale 
 until the affair had blown over. His nerves, he 
 felt, were quite unequal to the ordeal. So ho 
 wrote a hasty letter to his mother, telling her 
 that it was necessary for him to go straight on 
 to London. There was an exDress train to the 
 metropolis at two p.m. ; he determined to take 
 it — a determination which he communicated to 
 Fitzherbert, who stepped in after breakfast. 
 
 The Captain, while expressing his approval of 
 the arrangement, returned again to the subject 
 of the murder. 
 
 " Seen the papers, of course ? " he said. 
 ** Well, I do hope the poor lad will get off clear, 
 or, at any rate, with a light punishment. I'd go 
 into the box myself to prove that he was blazing 
 drunk, and didn't know what he was doing." 
 
 "You'd better not do that," returned Ealph, 
 nervously.
 
 I40 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 " Well, perhaps not ; but, by George, I won't 
 stand by quietly if they make out too black a case 
 against him ! I feel still as if it was all our doing 
 —don't you ? " 
 
 " No," said Ealph ; " and, for that matter, 
 there will be plenty of people to swear as to his 
 condition." 
 
 " It says in the papers that there was money 
 stolen and valuable papers, but the police can find 
 no trace of them. It's queer, now, seeing that he 
 was taken red-handed, that nothing of the sort 
 was found upon him. But what's the matter? 
 You look as white as a ghost ! " 
 
 " I've a confounded headache," stammered 
 Ralph. *' Two nights of it, you know ! Besides, 
 this business of the succession has come upon me 
 so suddenly that I don't know whether I'm standing 
 on my head or my heels." 
 
 " I suppose not," laughed the Captain. '* By 
 George, though, I should like to be in your shoes ! 
 You wanted the tin badly enough, old fellow, and 
 I suppose you don't object to the title thrown in ? " 
 
 ** Not a bit of it," said Ealx^h, echoing the 
 laugh. 
 
 Presently Fitzherbert went away, promising to 
 meet his friend shortly in London; and Ealph 
 was again left alone to his self-reproaches and 
 nervous terrors. Determined to front the world 
 boldly, and put on the brightest face possible, he 
 strolled downstairs and stood at the inn door, 
 Bmoking his cigar and looking at the crowded
 
 THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP. 141 
 
 street. The news of his good fortune had spread 
 by this time; the landlord of the inn came for- 
 ward to congratulate him, while the waiters and 
 chambermaids looked on obsequiously. Several 
 acquaintances came up, and after fresh congratu- 
 lations, passed on. So the time wore away till 
 noon. 
 
 As twelve o'clock sounded from the neighbour- 
 ing cathedral, a dog-cart drove up to the door, 
 and Ralph saw, seated beside the driver, the very 
 last person he could have wished to encounter at 
 the moment — Rachel Dene. She was quite alone, 
 and the moment she saw the young man she 
 uttered a joyful exclamation. He stepped forward, 
 and assisted her to alight. 
 
 "Why, what brings you to Barford ? " he asked. 
 " And why are you without an escort ? " 
 
 " Grandpapa could not come with me," she 
 cried quickly, " and as there was no time to be 
 lost, I hurried hither alone. I am going on to 
 Mr. Grainger about poor Jack Heywood. Oh, 
 Ralph, thou hast heard? Was ever such a 
 calamity ? Yet he is innocent, I know ! " 
 
 "I'm sure I hope so," answered Ral^^h, shrink- 
 ing from the gaze of the young girl's clear, truthful 
 eyes. 
 
 ** I am so glad we have met, for thou wilt help 
 me, I am sure. Let me go on to Mr. Grainger 
 at once." 
 
 And she took his arm eagerly, as if to lead him 
 away.
 
 142 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 t( 
 
 I am very sorry," he stammered nervously, 
 "but it is absolutely imperative for me to go to 
 London. The Earl is dead. My mother has told 
 you, I suppose? and I must pay him the last 
 respects, as his kinsman and heir." 
 
 " Thou canst not help the dead ! " cried Eachel. 
 " "What we must all do now is clear. An innocent 
 man is accused of murder, and perchance we ca^n 
 save him. Come with me, for God's sake, and 
 come at once ! " 
 
 Kalph would have done so gladly, but he dreaded 
 the ordeal of the interview with the solicitor, and 
 all his wish now was to get out of the way as 
 quickly as possible. He was still full of a nervous 
 terror. 
 
 *' My dear Eachel, it is impossible ! " he said. 
 "Of course, I will do all I can; but they are 
 waiting for me in London." 
 
 Again he felt her truthful eyes upon him, and 
 shrank from meeting them. He felt for the 
 moment as if he could have sunk through the 
 earth in shame. 
 
 " Oh, Ealph, he saved my life ! " sobbed the 
 girl. 
 
 ** Don't fret yourself unnecessarily," he replied. 
 " Every one knows that the man was drunk, and 
 if he did this thing it was in a drunken frenzy. 
 That, of course, will plead in his favour." 
 
 But Eachel, drying her eyes suddenly, and 
 setting her face to a look of clear resolve, cried, 
 *' He is innocent, I tell thee ; nay, I could stake
 
 THE EARL OF BEAUCHAMP, 143 
 
 my life upon it. Whoever killed poor Mr. Prjkc, 
 it was not Jack Hey wood ! " 
 
 It was a bard task for Ealpli Hollis to preserve 
 his self-command ; he was tortured as if upon the 
 rack, and could scarcely refrain from uttering a 
 cry of pain. Trembling violently, be turned his 
 head away, when he felt the girl's band clutching 
 his arm, and heard her saying, ** The man who 
 did this thing was a thief, and had broken into 
 the counting-house. Jack Heywood was incapable 
 of such an act ! Oh, Ealph, bo was thy com- 
 panion in childhood, and was ever so good and 
 true ! Thou canst not think him guilty ? Say 
 thou canst not ? " 
 
 ** Upon my life," answered Ealph, " I don't 
 know what to think or say ! I'm only sure of one 
 thing — that I could cut off my right hand to set 
 the fellow free ! " 
 
 A few more hurried words, and Eachel was gone. 
 The young man breathed again as soon as she 
 disappeared. 
 
 "Confound the girl!" he muttered. "Why 
 the deuce does she meddle in the matter? I was 
 right, then ; it is clear enough that she loves 
 bim ! " 
 
 In his nervous alarm from other causes, be 
 scarcely felt at that moment even a qualm of 
 jealousy. All his wish now was to fly away from 
 the scene of his horror, and from the eyes which at 
 any moment might read his secret. 
 
 A little later, be was seated alone in a first-class
 
 144 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 carriage, travelling by express to Loudon, more 
 like a fugitive from justice than the happy heir to 
 fortune and an earldom. 
 
 CHAPTEE XVII. 
 
 THE PEIMEOSE PATH. 
 
 Upon arriving at Curzon Street, May Fair, Ralph 
 found that his uncle's death had been occasioned 
 by a fit of apoplexy upon returning from the Lord 
 Mayor's banquet. A few days afterwards he 
 attended the obsequies at Beauchamp Castle, as 
 chief mourner, with little or no affectation of 
 regret for a relative whom he had scarcely seen, 
 and who had been systematically hostile to his 
 mother and himself. 
 
 After the funeral, he returned to the Castle, 
 looked through the stables, glanced at the coverts, 
 conferred with the steward, the butler, and the 
 housekeeper, the head groom, and the head game- 
 keeper, confirmed them in their appointments, 
 and returned to town by the next train, accom- 
 panied by Grimstone, the family solicitor. 
 
 They dined together that night in Curzon Street, 
 where Ealph thenceforth took up his abode, 
 having taken over the whole of his uncle's menage, 
 including Barkins, the valet, who had been in 
 the Beauchamp family all his life, had known 
 Ealph's father and mother, and who soon
 
 THE PRIMROSE PATH. 145 
 
 succeeded, by the way, in attaching himself to 
 his new master. 
 
 That evening, Grimstone explained to his youth- 
 ful client that it would be requisite to go through 
 certain formalities for the administration of the 
 estate; but before the week was out, the new Earl 
 had taken his seat in the House of Lords, and 
 voted for the Government in an important 
 division. 
 
 The estate cut up better than was anticipated, 
 and Kalph found himself in the enjoyment of 
 something like thirty thousand a year — so, at 
 least, he wrote Jacob Dene, politely tendering his 
 resignation — expressing his regret for the over- 
 seer's untimely death, and volunteering tho 
 opinion that Jack, he felt sure, was the last man 
 in the world capable of such a crime. 
 
 He wrote much to the same effect to Jasper 
 Heywood, telling him to draw upon him for all 
 moneys requisite for the defence. He touched 
 lightly upon the subject in his letter to Eachel, to 
 whom he sent some little presents just to remind 
 her of his existence. Nor did he forget his other 
 friends and relations. To his mother he sent an 
 open cheque, some valuable pieces of mourning, 
 gloves, etc., and to the vicar some books of refer- 
 ence. Then, having so far done his duty, he 
 invited Captain Fitzherbert to come and join him 
 in seeing life in London, to which occupation 
 these gentlemen devoted themselves assiduously. 
 
 It was astonishing what a number of friends 
 
 L
 
 140 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 cropped up all at onee at May Fair. Friends of 
 Ealph's father, friends of bis mother — aristocratic 
 matrons with marriageable daughters, and friends 
 of his late lamented uncle. Besides these came a 
 clientele of tradespeople who bad fattened on the 
 Beanchamps for generations. Then there ■were 
 obliging gentlemen, olive-complexioned and large- 
 nosed, who inquired in the most delicate and 
 friendly manner if the new lord needed ready 
 money. There were other gentlemen with cropped 
 beads, low foreheads, bull nechs, who called to 
 inquire if "my lord " required any lessons in the 
 noble arts of racing and self-defence. 
 
 The Honourable Augustus Torvin, the Govern- 
 ment whip, put the new Earl up at the Junior 
 Carlton, and Tom Tressider nominated him for the 
 Jockey Club, in place of his noble uncle, deceased ; 
 while Fitzherbert introduced him to the Ostriches, 
 where one night they encountered the famous 
 Major O'Gallagher, whose escapade with the Begum 
 of Upper Oude led to bis quitting the service with 
 a certain eclaircissement a quarter of a century ago. 
 
 The Major, of course, was a native of the Sister 
 Isle, with just that flavour of the brogue on his 
 tongue, and those cordial and ingratiating manners, 
 which impart such a charm to the manners of the 
 well-bred Irishman. 
 
 Although on the shady side of sixty, he was a 
 fine, stalwart fellow, and in excellent preservation. 
 " Mick," as his friends called him, had a bead as 
 white and as well polished as a billiard ball; a
 
 THE PRIMROSE PATH. Mj 
 
 celestially Irish nose ; bright, twinkling blue eyes ; 
 rosy, clean-shaven cheeks, which expanded into 
 dewlaps as they fell in ghstening folds over the 
 white neck-scarf which he always affected. 
 
 He had met the late Colonel Hollis in India 
 during those bad times of the Mutiny, and he 
 received Ealph with effusion. 
 
 "I knew your father," he cried, "before ye were 
 born. The best player at poker and pyramids in 
 the Punjaub. And how is that gorgeous creature, 
 your mother ? By my honour, I used to adore 
 her ; that is, before I took to adoring my dinner. 
 Which reminds me you must come and dine with 
 me to-night, and your friend, too." 
 
 It was in vain that Ealph pleaded a prior engage- 
 ment ; the Major would not take no for an answer. 
 
 " Come, my boy, and take us without ceremony," 
 said he. " Julia will be delighted to see you. 
 Sure, she played with you when you were a little 
 fellow the size of my thumb out there at Lucknow, 
 when the Nana, bad cess to him, gave poor Ealph 
 his quietus." 
 
 Both the young fellows were impressed by the 
 Major's frank and engaging manners, and the 
 little dinner at Montpellier Square was a break 
 in the run of bachelor banquets. To be sure, the 
 O'Gallagher apartments were not palatial, but 
 there was a cordial welcome from the Major and 
 the Major's daughter. 
 
 In appearance Julia O'Gallagher reminded Ealph 
 of some lost vision of his youth, or one of those
 
 148 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 weird bizarre statues of some bronzed odalisque, 
 partially clad in garments of white, from which 
 the dusky limbs gleam forth bare and beautiful in 
 the stately symmetry of their classic outlines. 
 Had Cleopatra had the faintest tinge of Egyptian 
 blood in her Greek veins, so might the serpent of 
 Old Nile have looked in her golden prime. The 
 tinge of olive which blended with the Milesian 
 strain of the 0' Gallaghers came from her mother, 
 the Begum aforesaid. Thence also came the white 
 teeth; the luscious, scarlet lips — lips like twin 
 rosebuds ; the dark, flashing eyes ; the straight, 
 black brows ; the night of raven hair, which was 
 wont upon provocation to tumble to the ground, 
 covering her lithe and elastic figure as with an 
 iridescent mantle of sable. The voice, too, had 
 the soft, crooning music of the far East. To these 
 Oriental attributes were added the accomplishments 
 of Europe — a taste for music, painting, and the 
 fine arts generally. 
 
 She came forward and welcomed the young men 
 as if she had known them all her life ; indeed, she 
 professed to remember Ealph as her little play- 
 fellow at Lucknow and Cawnpore. 
 
 Neither he nor Fitzherbert noted her garb, but 
 saw vaguely that it was some soft flowing white 
 stuff; nor did they even note the pearls which 
 rose and sank upon her neck ; in fact, they paled 
 their ineffectual fires before the light of her splendid 
 eyes. The men were captivated at the first look. 
 
 The repast was not particularly sumptuous, but
 
 THE PRIMROSE PATH. 149 
 
 it was agreeable, well cooked, and well served, and 
 Miss O'Gallagher did the honours like a princess. 
 After dinner she left the gentlemen to their wine. 
 They didn't stay long, however, and when they 
 joined her she gave them some delicious tea in 
 dainty little cups of some quaint Indian ware, 
 arabesqued and inlaid with gold. Then she sang 
 and played to them, and did both divinely. 
 
 By-and-by, three or four men about town dropped 
 in to beg a cup of tea. Presently some one suggested 
 cards, whereupon Julia glided from the room with- 
 out a word. 
 
 After an hour or two at half-crown points, the 
 guests began to drop away, and Ealph and Fitz- 
 herbert rose to follow suit. 
 
 *' Make my adieux. Major, to Miss O'Gallagher," 
 said Ealph. *' Thanks for a delightful evening." 
 
 *' Come again, my boys," replied the Major, 
 ** without ceremony ; there's always a knife and 
 fork, and a welcome." 
 
 " Capital fellow, the Major," said Ealph, as they 
 drove home. 
 
 "First rate," responded Fitzherbert. "But 
 isn't the girl splendid ? " 
 
 " She's a beauty," returned Ealph, with a yawn, 
 "for a fellow whose taste lies in that direction. 
 I suppose, being nearly a nigger myself, I adore 
 fair women. Besides, there's only one woman in 
 the world for me, and she's down at Deepdale." 
 
 "By Jove!" cried the captain, "I begin to 
 think there's only one woman in the world for
 
 ISO RACHEL DENE. 
 
 me, and she's at Montpellier Square. Not that 
 I suppose she'd ever descend on a poor plunger 
 like myself. I expect she's looking out for higher 
 game — a prince or a lord, at least." 
 
 *' They seem pretty well tiled in. I suppose the 
 Begum left her something worth having ? " 
 
 " Don't know," said Fitzherbert. " When we 
 were in the Punjaub our fellows used to look upon 
 all the natives as niggers. There's nothing of the 
 nigger about /ter." 
 
 " Not a bit." 
 
 '* I say, Ealph, look here ; the Major's worth 
 cultivating. I've won a fiver to-night. The first 
 lucky deal I've had since I've been in town." 
 
 " And I believe I'm a sovereign or two to the 
 good," laughed Ealph, fuU of his new independence 
 of such trifles. 
 
 That was the first of many pleasant nights 
 at Montpellier Square. Strange to say, Julia 
 O'Gallagher had no lady friends. She reigned, 
 therefore, with undivided sway, and distributed 
 her smiles or courtesies with perfect impartiality, 
 and an apparent absence of personal predilection ; 
 and yet how dangerously seductive she could be 
 when she played the artillery of her charms upon 
 any given object ! To-nigbt one man thought 
 himself the especial favourite ; the next, another 
 man was made happy with a smile or a gracious 
 word. Tom Tressider was the first favourite one 
 night ; Fitzherbert took the premier j)as upon 
 another occasion. Every man had his turn — turn
 
 THE PRIMROSE PATH. 151 
 
 and turn about ; perhaios Ealph came in for more 
 than the rest. He said that was because Julia 
 remembered him as an old playfellow. Fitzberbcrt 
 thought, however, it was because she remembered 
 he was an Earl. 
 
 Whenever the men took to cards, which they 
 did every evening, she took herself to her own 
 apartments. 
 
 "Boys will b3 boys," said the Major. "For 
 myself, I object to going beyond a crown point. 
 But never mind — go ahead ; you can only be 
 young once ! " 
 
 Night after night the play became heavier and 
 heavier, despite the Major's warnings. Other men 
 sometimes dropped in. There was the Hon. Algy 
 Fitz Urse, the Chevalier Vicoff, Major Deuceace, 
 and a few other choice bloods of the Ostriches. 
 That five pounds of Fitzherbert's had gone long 
 ago, with many a note to boot. 
 
 Julia invariably suggested that both Ealph and 
 Fitz should take their departure at the same time 
 with herself, but they decided to remain. When 
 she left the room, the men formed an avenue down 
 which she passed with a smile and a kind good 
 night for all. 
 
 Then came the real work of the night — baccarat, 
 poker, and the rest of it. The Major smoked his 
 cigarette and looked on while the youngsters went 
 for each other. 
 
 What with the excitement of the game and 
 copious libations, Ealph and Fitzherbert began to
 
 IS2 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 plunge heavily, and to lose heavily, too. Some 
 nights they did not know what they had lost. 
 I.O.U.'s were circulated freely. They never re- 
 mained long in doubt about these, for one or other 
 of their friends usually turned up the next day at 
 May Fair, requesting payment. 
 
 Sometimes, too, the Major himself put in an 
 appearance with a promissory note and a paternal 
 remonstrance. 
 
 This business of settling up didn't give Fitz- 
 herbert much trouble so long as Ralph paid the 
 piper ; in the end, however, it upset him both in 
 health and in credit. Nights at Montpellier Square 
 were varied by nights at the Merozable and at the 
 Ostriches ; but wherever these young gentlemen 
 went, the result was invariably the same. They 
 were by no means of the verdant-green fraternity ; 
 and as their own object was plunder, they could 
 scarcely object when the tables were tm*ned upon 
 them. 
 
 When Barldns found that his master and his 
 friend had the devil's books in their hands at all 
 hours ; that they turned night into day ; that they 
 went to bed late ; that when they got up their 
 first demand was for soda-water ; that they merely 
 trifled with a cup of tea and a devilled anchovy 
 toast before they returned to soda, copiously 
 diluted with brandy ; when he observed that re- 
 peated doses of this potent beverage were accom- 
 panied by huge full-flavoured havannahs, he 
 ventured to remonstrate. He might, however.
 
 THE PRIMROSE PATH. .153 
 
 have spared himself the trouble, for all the thanks 
 he got. 
 
 Presently two or three race meetings came off. 
 Ealph went to each of them, and plunged in every 
 direction, losing right and left. He now became 
 fretful, peevish, and angry upon the slightest pro- 
 vocation, and could not bear to be alone, especially 
 since the receipt of a cold and repellent letter 
 from Rachel, more than hinting that he had been 
 the means of leading Jack Heywood astray at 
 Doncaster. His mother urged him to come down 
 to Deepdale at once, to settle his debts, and to 
 conclude his engagement with Eachel ; but from 
 the tenor of that young lady's last communi- 
 cation, he thought it would not be desirable to 
 put his fortune to the test for the present, and so 
 he postponed his visit from day to day, from week 
 to week. A giant's strength might well succumb 
 to the life he was now leading, and Ealph was 
 no giant. 
 
 It is the pace that kills, and the pace was 
 beginning to tell upon him already. His cheeks 
 became flushed and hectic, his hands trembled, 
 and he was tortured with a hollow, racking cough, 
 which never ceased, morning, noon, or night. 
 
 Obviously he needed rest and recuperation. 
 Happy thought ! He would take the Major, and 
 a few sporting friends, down to the Castle for the 
 shooting. He did do so, and returned worse than 
 ever. 
 
 He now began to recall the old days in the
 
 1 54 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 quiet Yorkshire valley with regret. Old days, 
 indeed! Why, only a few months had elapsed 
 since he quitted Deepdale, and yet it seemed ages 
 ago. It was not yet too late to pull up ; he would 
 return to the Vicarage. Just as he had arrived 
 at this sensible conclusion, the Major, the Captain, 
 and Tom Tressider called one day to " give him a 
 straight tip," as they expressed it, about a great 
 bruising match which had just been arranged 
 between two notorious gladiators. 
 
 The affair, which was known only to the 
 initiated, was to come off in France. It was in 
 the highest degree chic, and it would not do to be 
 out of so good a thing, so next day off went my 
 lord, accompanied by his noble friends. Being by 
 no means a good sailor, Ealph had an awful 
 passage to Dieppe, and landed very ill ; but, 
 despite Fitzherbert's remonstrances, he persisted 
 in accompanying the Major and the rest to Eouen, 
 in the neighbourhood of which city the famous 
 pugilistic encounter was to take place. 
 
 By the. time he got there Ealph was worse, 
 and Fitzherbert begged him to stay in bed for a 
 day or two. It was in the depth of a most 
 inclement winter, and he was shivering from head 
 to foot when, early next morning, he got aboard 
 the small packet and steamed down the river, in 
 company with the Brummagem Bulldog, the New 
 York Hercules, their seconds, and upwards of a 
 hundred and fifty shining lights of the jeiuiesse 
 cloree.
 
 THE PRIMROSE PATH. 155 
 
 After steaming about for some hours, at about 
 two o'clock in the afternoon the boat was moored 
 to an islet in the middle of the river ; the motley 
 crowd of peers, plungers, and pugilists landed, and 
 the champions of the two hemispheres proceeded 
 to batter each other's faces to pulp, until night 
 spitefully put an end to the sport. The stakes 
 were then drawn, and the twin bulldogs, having 
 beaten each other out of all semblance to humanity, 
 embraced and vowed eternal friendship. 
 
 It was late when our gallant sportsmen got back 
 to Eouen. Ealph was shivering worse than ever, 
 and coughing even more than usual. Fitzherbert 
 urged him to stay, and get a day or two's rest ; but 
 the Major, Deuceace, Tressider, and the chamj)ion3 
 were for pushing on to Calais by the express, and 
 Ealph resolved to push on with them. 
 
 With the aid of copious and repeated doses of 
 eau de vie he succeeded in reaching Calais in time 
 for the boat. "When they embarked he could 
 scarcely keep his feet, and he asked Fitzherbert 
 to go below to secure a cabin, a pint of champagne, 
 and a captain's biscuit. 
 
 It took some five minutes or more before Fitz- 
 herbert could see the steward. During this time 
 the boat had left the pier, and was rapidly making 
 way ; and when Fitzherbert came on deck he 
 couldn't find Ealph anywhere. The Major had 
 seen him five minutes before ; Tressider had seen 
 him even later, and had given him a pull at his 
 flask.
 
 156 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 It now began to blow hard. Fitzherbert was a 
 worse sailor even than Ealph, and he collapsed 
 immediately. More than an hour elapsed after 
 his arrival at Dover before he could struggle upon 
 deck. When, at last, he turned out there was no 
 sign of either Ealph or the Major, or, indeed, of 
 any of his friends. 
 
 Doubtless, they had gone on to town by the 
 tidal train. Obviously, there was nothing for it 
 but for him to follow. 
 
 CHAPTER XVm. 
 
 'tWIXT DOVER AND CALAIS. 
 
 Upon Fitzherbert's arrival at May Fair, to his 
 astonishment he found no sign of Ralph the Earl. 
 When the following day came, and Ralph did not 
 appear, Fitzherbert became anxious ; anxiety gave 
 place to alarm when a second day elapsed without 
 any communication from his missing friend. 
 
 It now occurred to the Captain to look up the 
 Major, and he drove down to Montpellier Square 
 in Ralph's brougham. 
 
 The Major was out. He had gone down to 
 Fleet Street to arrange about the drawing of the 
 stakes and the division of the spoil among the 
 noble sportsmen. But Julia was visible, and 
 greeted him with her brightest smile. 
 
 " How are you to-day ? " she inquired.
 
 'TIVIXT DOVER AND CALAIS. 137 
 
 *' Very seedy. I've not seen you for an age." 
 
 *' And the young Earl ? " 
 
 "I don't know. I've not seen bim since we left 
 Calais." 
 
 " Indeed ! " 
 
 " No. The fact is, I was unfortunately com- 
 pelled to succumb to tbe chops of the Channel, 
 and as Ealph was seedy v/hen we went aboard, I 
 thought possibly the Major might have taken 
 charge of him." 
 
 *' I don't think so. Papa has never mentioned 
 the subject to me." 
 
 ** When did the Major get back ? " 
 
 ** The night before last." 
 
 ** I think I'd better look him up at once." 
 
 When Fitzherbert reached the Ostrich club the 
 Major was at lunch. 
 
 " Well, dear boy, how's our Pylades — how's the 
 golden youth?" 
 
 *' Don't know," cried the Captain. *' I thought 
 you could tell me." 
 
 " The deuce you did ! How's that ? " 
 
 "I've not seen him since we left Calais." 
 
 ** You don't mane that ? " said the Major. 
 
 " I do, though." 
 
 " Perhaps you'll be after explaining ? " 
 
 " Eirst, do you mean to say. Major, yoiCve not 
 seen him ? " 
 
 " Divil a bit! Now, then, go ahead, dear boy, 
 with the particulars." 
 
 "Well, then, I lost sight of him when we got
 
 158 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 aboard, and I had such a devil of a time of it in 
 crossing that I couldn't pull myself together to 
 come on deck till long after you fellows had got 
 ashore. I came on by the next train to Curzon 
 Street, expecting to find him there. He has not 
 been there, nor have I seen or even heard of him 
 since." 
 
 " The dear boy seemed very queer. Perhaps he 
 may be staying at Dover to recuperate." 
 
 " Not a bad idea. I'll telegraph the Lord 
 Warden at once," 
 
 Having despatched his telegram, Fitzherbert 
 joined the Major at lunch. By the time they had 
 finished, there came a reply from Dover, stating 
 that Lord Beauchamp was not at the Lord 
 Warden, nor had he been there. 
 
 "I have it!" said the Major. "Boys will be 
 boys ; he's met with an adventure. I'll go bail, 
 now, a pair of bright eyes have detained him on 
 the other side of the streak." 
 
 *' But I tell you I saw him aboard." 
 
 "So did I; but sure he'd plenty of time to get 
 ashore. Ah, with youth the season is for joy ; 
 and I was young once myself." 
 
 " What time is it ? " inquired Fitzherbert, 
 looking at his watch. " Four o'clock ! Just time 
 to catch the tidal train. I'm off!" 
 
 " More power to ye. Let me know as soon as 
 you have traced the truant." 
 
 Fortunately for Fitzherbert, this time the 
 Channel was as smooth as a mill-pond.
 
 'TIVIXT DOVER AND CALAIS, 159 
 
 Immediately on his arrival at Calais he went to 
 the xDolice-station. The Commissary was com- 
 municative and obliging. He stated that at the 
 very moment the packet cast her moorings a man 
 •was seen rapidly running down the pier ; that he 
 tried to leap aboard ; that he missed his footing, 
 and fell headlong into the sea ; that a couple of 
 fishermen, who were fortunately cruising about in 
 a small coble, fished him out more dead than 
 alive; that he was now lying at the Hotel 
 Montjoy, and that in all probability he was the 
 missing English milord. 
 
 Half an hour later Fitzherbert was by Ralph's 
 bedside at the hospital. He had been unconscious 
 since the moment of his deliverance, and was still 
 quite delirious. 
 
 The physician in attendance stated that a violent 
 cold had supervened upon congestion of the lungs, 
 and an aggravated attack of delirium tremens. It 
 was perhaps as well that this gentleman did not 
 understand a word of English, as Ealph's ravings 
 would doubtless have astonished him. 
 
 'Twas in vain that Fitzherbert tried to restrain 
 the wretched youth. At one moment he was at 
 Brocklesby Ferry, at another in the ring at 
 Doncaster. Anon, with a shriek of terror, he 
 started bolt upright, screaming, "Don't — don't — 
 don't glare at me with your pale face — don't, 
 don't ! " 
 
 Then he fell back, panting and exhausted. 
 
 Thus the days passed on, and the patient's
 
 i6o RACHEL DENE, 
 
 condition still gave great cause for alarm. The 
 bodily ailment seemed subsiding, but the mental 
 and spiritual condition seemed to border on some 
 serious form of brain disturbance or chronic 
 hallucination. 
 
 ** Our young friend has something on his mind," 
 said the doctor to Fitzherbert after one of these 
 violent outbursts. " I suppose he has been a 
 hon vivant — what you call in your English a free 
 liver ? " 
 
 *' Of course, he's gone the pace," returned the 
 Captain. You see, he has only just come into his 
 property, and he's been trying to see as much life 
 as possible." 
 
 ** Well, you must keep him very quiet, or he 
 will never recover. Do you know of any serious 
 mental trouble?" 
 
 " No," replied Fitzherbert. " He has everything 
 a man can want, and, so far as I know, no trouble 
 at all. But he's been going it, you know, ever 
 since his change of fortune." 
 
 The constancy and devotion of Fitzherbert knew 
 no bounds. Night after night he sat up with his 
 friend, till he himself looked almost as sick and 
 haggard as the invalid. He liked Ealph, and had 
 stood by him in many a nasty affair. There was 
 something yet in store for him, however, which 
 was to test his friendship to the full. 
 
 One night Ealph Hollis had dozed off quietly, 
 and Fitzherbert, who sat by the bedside watching, 
 thought that he was going to have a long, sound
 
 'TIVIXT DOVER AND CALAIS. i6i 
 
 rest. Suddenly, however, the invalid awakened — 
 not with the wild start of fever and delirium — and 
 looked at his friend ; then, reaching out a thin, 
 trembling hand, he said quite gently, " Fitz, old 
 fellow, is there any news ? " 
 
 **News! Of whom?" asked the Captain, a 
 little surprised. 
 
 " Of young Hey wood ? " 
 
 ** None ; only he has been committed for trial. 
 Don't worry yourself about him. Close your eyes, 
 and go to sleep." 
 
 But Ealph's hand closed tightly in his as the 
 faint voice said, **I can't sleep! Sometimes, old 
 fellow, I think there is no sleep for me this side 
 the grave ; and, to tell you the truth, I don't think 
 I shall ever rise from my bed again. Well, so 
 much the better. But I can't die with a lie upon 
 my soul. You're a good fellow, and I can trust 
 you, can't I ? " 
 
 " Stake your soul on that," replied the Captain. 
 
 "Well, then, I'm going to make a clean breast 
 of it, and, if I die, you'll try to put things right. 
 Fitz, I've never been myself since that night at 
 Doncaster. It was a dirty trick we played on that 
 youngster, but there's worse than that to tell. If 
 they hang him, and if there's a hell, as I believe, 
 the devil will have me, for, as sure as there's a 
 God above, 7, and not Jack Heywood, killed Jabez 
 Pryke ! " 
 
 With a cry of horror, Fitzherbert started back, 
 and almost sprang to his feet. At first, he thought 
 
 M
 
 i62 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 that Ealph was raving, but a look into bis eyes 
 convinced him to the contrary. White and calm, 
 ■with the firm resolve upon him to tell his secret 
 once and for ever, Ealph lay back upon the pillows, 
 watching the effect of his strange confession. 
 
 " You killed him ? " gasped Fitzherbert. ** No, 
 no ; you're raving ! " 
 
 " I'm telling you the gospel truth," said Ralph ; 
 ** and, what's more, if you like to call in witnesses 
 and hear me swear it, I'll stand to what I say. 
 It's that which has made me mad, and driven me 
 headlong to the devil. Listen, and I'll tell you 
 how it happened. You know how badly I wanted 
 money — you know how the fellows were down on 
 me from every side ? Well, that night when you 
 drove me over from Barford the devil tempted me 
 to enter the counting-house and take what I wanted, 
 to save me from exposure and ruin. I was half- 
 drunk still, and I hardly know now how I got into 
 the place, but almost before I could realize what I 
 was doing I had opened the safe, and was collaring 
 the coin and the paper. I had seized a handful of 
 gold and notes, and had thrust them into my 
 breast, when I heard a sound behind me, and, 
 turning round, I saw the overseer standing on the 
 threshold of the room, and looking on." 
 
 There was silence in the sick-room, save for the 
 low, faint voice of the speaker. Fitzherbert sat 
 spell-bound. 
 
 "Well, then, I knew that it was all up, but 
 before I could think what to do, the old man had
 
 ^TtVIXT DOVER AND CALAIS. 163 
 
 seized me, and we were struggling together. As 
 God is my Judge, Fitz, I never meant to harm 
 him, but I tried to tear myself free. In the 
 struggle he was hurled backward, and struck his 
 head against the marble mantelpiece. My God, 
 I think I see him now ! I hear his dying cry ! 
 He gave one wild scream, and fell dead before 
 me ! " 
 
 As he proceeded, Ealph grew more and more 
 excited, and he sat up in the bed wildly gesticu- 
 lating. 
 
 ** Then I heard another sound — some one behind 
 me descending the stairs. Young Heywood, still 
 drunk and half asleep, with his eyes closed, and 
 his hands feeling before him, appeared in the 
 passage. I stepped back behind the door as he 
 entered, then out on the landing and into one of 
 the recesses of the stair. A moment after, I heard 
 a shriek from the room ; it was the lad's voice, 
 and then some men came running up the street, 
 and with them the watch-dog Leo. They did not 
 see me, and the dog, instead of taking my scent, 
 rushed on into the room, where the lad was now 
 wailing like a madman. There wasn't a minute to 
 lose. I slipt down the stair, through the gate into 
 the street, and ran like a madman till I reached 
 the Vicarage door. I had my latch-key, and got 
 in unheard and unseen. All the rest you know. 
 Next morning my mother brought me the news of 
 my uncle's death. Think of my feelings then. 
 But, as God is my Judge, it was an accident, not
 
 l64 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 murder ! I never meant to kill the old man — no, 
 no!" 
 
 He hid bis face in bis bands, and sobbed. Fitz- 
 herbert still sat silent, riveted with the horror of 
 the tale. 
 
 " Now you can do what you think best," moaned 
 the -wretched man. "Denounce me if you like; I 
 don't care ! " 
 
 Yet be looked pleadingly at bis friend, as if 
 beseeching bis sympathy and protection. 
 
 " It's an awful business," said the Captain at 
 last. ** I never suspected it was so bad as this. 
 But that money and those papers ; what became 
 of them ? " 
 
 " I threw the gold away on the moor, and 
 destroyed the notes and papers next day at Bar- 
 ford. Fitz, old man, what am I to do ? Now it's 
 all up with me I don't mind making a confession ; 
 but if I should live " 
 
 "Leave me to think it over," returned Fitz- 
 hcrbert. " Go to rest now. Here, I'll give yovL 
 your draught; it may send you off to sleep." 
 
 So saying, he measured out the potion which the 
 doctor bad left for the patient. Ealpb drank it 
 gratefully ; and presently, as if relieved to some 
 extent by the confession he bad made, dozed off 
 into a fitful sleep. The Captain sat pondering 
 darkly. It was an ugly business, as be had said ; 
 yet, on reflection, be did not see as yet why be 
 should interfere. Ralph was bis friend, bis pal, 
 and in the Captain's dark code of morality, fidelity
 
 GUILTY OR NOT GUILTY. 165 
 
 to a comrade was the cardinal virtue. Besides, 
 Ealpli was rich and powerful, and the downfall 
 and exposure of one would mean certain ruin to 
 the other. Of course, if the accused man were 
 actually convicted and condemned to death, it 
 might be a different matter. Fitzherbert deter- 
 mined to wait and see. 
 
 At daybreak Ealph opened his eyes, and saw 
 the Captain still sitting by the bedside. 
 
 " Well, what is to be done ? " he asked eagerly. 
 " Unless I'm dreaming, I told you everything last 
 night?" 
 
 "You did," replied Fitzherbert; "but make 
 your mind easy. I never rounded on a pal yet, 
 and I'm going to hold my tongue." 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 GUILTY OR NOT GUILTY. 
 
 On the very day — the very hour — that Ealph and 
 his friends were "assisting" at that memorable 
 contest on the river, Jack Heywood was on trial 
 for his life at Leeds Assizes. 
 
 During repeated interviews Grainger had made 
 persistent efforts to induce his client to confide in 
 him, so as to prepare some theory for the defence ; 
 but he always obtained the same answer, the 
 formula of which was simple and conclusive, and 
 was contained in five words —
 
 i66 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 "I know nothing about it." 
 
 Then the lawyer endeavoured to persuade Jack 
 to admit that a quarrel had occurred while he was 
 intoxicated ; that Jabez had struck him, and that 
 in self-defence he had struck him against the 
 mantelpiece (for Grainger had carefully examined 
 the counting-house and everything in it) ; hence 
 the catastrophe. Jack, however, declined to en- 
 dorse this theory of the matter, and reiterated — 
 
 "I know nothing about it." 
 
 Grainger then tried another tack. He got a 
 pair of medical experts to examine his client, with 
 & view to propounding the defence of insanity, 
 i'his line was more untenable than the other, and 
 there was nothing for it but to obtain an eloquent 
 advocate to plead extenuating circumstances to 
 the jury. This gentleman did his duty to the best 
 of his ability ; but his eloquence was powerless 
 against the damning weight of evidence. The 
 case for the defence having closed, and the counsel 
 for the prosecution having replied, the judge 
 proceeded to sum up ; and having put the case for 
 and against the accused with judicial impartiality, 
 he came to the theory of the defence — viz. that 
 the crime had occurred during a drunken scuffle. 
 
 " It is almost trivial for me," said his lordship, 
 "to observe that a man is not excused from his 
 crime by reason of intoxication by alcohol. If 
 that were to be accepted as a valid defence, the 
 criminal courts might as well be closed at once, 
 because there is no doubt drunkenness is the
 
 GUILTY OR NOT GUILTY, 167 
 
 cause of a large proportion of the crime committed. 
 The learned counsel for the defence has contended 
 that the occurrence was accidental, or, rather, 
 that it was one of those cases coming within the 
 term of manslaughter. He has also enlarged upon 
 the evidence as to character given by the witnesses 
 for the defence, and the universal concurrence of 
 testimony as to the known affection which for so 
 many years had existed between prisoner and 
 deceased, and the absence of motive for the com- 
 mission of the crime. On the other hand, gentle- 
 men, you have the statement of the witness Yondal 
 as to the occurrence at Doncaster; the refusal of 
 deceased to lend prisoner money ; the quarrel on 
 the homeward journey ; the threats of violence ; 
 the burglarious entry into the counting-house ; the 
 breaking open of the safe ; the rilling of the cash- 
 box ; the abstraction of certain bank-notes, drafts, 
 and other moneys, and the subsequent death of 
 Jabez Pryke. 
 
 *' It is true, none of these notes, drafts, or 
 moneys have been found upon the accused, and 
 that point is clearly in favour of the prisoner. 
 
 *' It is for you to decide upon the matter 
 without fear or favour. If you believe that the 
 accused committed this crime, it is your duty to 
 find him guilty. If, on the other hand, you have 
 any reasonable doubt on the subject, it is your 
 duty to give the prisoner the benefit of the doubt." 
 
 At four o'clock the jury retired to consider their
 
 i68 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 verdict, taking with them the plan of the counting- 
 house. 
 
 Then came an awful and unbroken silence. 
 
 Half Deepdale was in court — men and women 
 who had known the prisoner from childhood. 
 Jasper and Joan Heywood sat at the solicitors' 
 table beside Grainger. A lady, closely veiled, was 
 seated 'twixt Jacob Dene and the vicar, in the 
 gallery to the left of the dock. Jack looked round, 
 and took in the picture as if in a dream. 
 
 After what appeared an age, the jury returned 
 to the court, and the judge to the bench. 
 
 The foreman was pale and agitated. 
 
 " How say you, gentlemen of the jury ? " inquired 
 the clerk. "Is the prisoner at the bar guilty, or 
 not guilty ? " 
 
 '* Guilty." 
 
 The court surged and throbbed as if with one 
 huge pulse. 
 
 " Guilty," repeated the foreman ; " but the jury 
 desire to recommend the prisoner to mercy on 
 account of his youth, and also on account of the 
 condition he was in when the crime was com- 
 mitted." 
 
 Then came the words, "Prisoner at the bar, 
 have you anything to say why sentence of death 
 should not be passed upon you ? " 
 
 "Yes ! " exclaimed Jack. 
 
 In this supreme moment he recalled, as if by 
 miracle, all that had occurred on the night of the 
 murder.
 
 GUILTY OR NOT GUILTY. 169 
 
 ** My lord, and gentlemen of the jury," be con- 
 tinued, in a clear and sonorous voice, " I have 
 nothing to say against t' verdict — it couldna bo 
 otherwise ; but for the sake 0' those I leave behind, 
 I wish to clear my memory from this foul crime. 
 I was ne'er drunk i' my life until that night at 
 Doncaster, and t' poison went to my brain and 
 made me mad. After we left Doncaster, I remember 
 nowt until I was wakened from my sleep by a 
 voice crying * Murder ! ' Had I been dead, surely 
 that voice would have brought me back to life. I 
 leaped up, and ran as fast as my feet could carry 
 me to the counting-house. As God is my Judge, 
 Jabez lay there dead before me, bathed i' his own 
 blood. From that moment until this, when it has 
 pleased t' Lord to lift the cloud fro' my brain, all 
 has been a blank ; but now — now that I see and 
 know all, now that I realize the dreadful truth, no 
 punishment you can inflict can equal what I suffer 
 already in the knowledge that had I been by his 
 side, as was my duty — had I been a man, and not 
 a drunken, besotted beast, this trouble would ne'er 
 have befallen my best friend ! As for his murderer, 
 he is in the hands 0' God, in whose name I declare 
 that I am innocent ! He knows it ; Jabez Pryke 
 knows it, too ; and I can meet him wi' a clear 
 conscience. That is all I have to say." 
 
 The judge was apparently more unmanned than 
 the prisoner. With trembling hands he put on 
 the black cap. As he proceeded to pass sentence, 
 his voice was choked with emotion. Tears streamed
 
 I70 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 down bis aged cheeks ; nor his alone, for there 
 was scarcely a dry eye in the place. 
 
 When, at length, the last awful words were 
 uttered, the condemned turned, and rapidly left 
 the dock. As he did so, a piercing scream rang 
 through the stillness. The veiled lady between 
 Jacob Dene and the vicar fell swooning to the 
 floor, and the court broke up in a tumult of excite- 
 ment and confusion. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH. 
 
 When overhauling the debris of Jabez Pryke's 
 rifled cash-box, Jacob Dene came upon a rough 
 memorandum of the remittances received by the 
 morning's post on the day of the murder. There 
 were Bank of England notes to the value of two 
 hundred pounds, drafts payable at sight for 
 upwards of five or six hundred more, besides 
 acceptances for various amounts. Payment of 
 the notes was immediately stopped, although no 
 notification to this effect was published. This 
 precaution was adopted in the hope that the thief 
 — always assuming the notes to be stolen — might 
 be taken off his guard, and therefore induced to 
 present them for payment. 
 
 Their disappearance was the one missing link 
 of evidence against Jack Heywood. His statement
 
 UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH. 171 
 
 before the judge coincided entirely with the theory 
 that these notes and drafts might have been stolen 
 by a third person. 
 
 Assuming, for the sake of argument, that in 
 some aberration of intellect, caused by his mad 
 drunkenness, Jack had broken into the counting- 
 house for the purpose of robbery, that he had 
 been discovered in the act by Jabez, that a 
 deathly struggle had then ensued, there could be 
 no possibility of doubt of the fact that Jack had 
 been actually taken prisoner the next moment; 
 hence, had he stolen the notes they must have 
 been found upon his person, or about him. They 
 were not found upon his person, nor could any 
 trace of them be found anywhere. 
 
 That he might have had a drunken quarrel with 
 Jabez, that a struggle might have occurred which 
 culminated in the awful catastrophe which had 
 befallen, was possible, and even probable ; but 
 that the lad could be a thief — his whole life and 
 character gave the lie to so improbable a sup- 
 position. The more Jacob Dene thought of the 
 matter, the more he gravitated towards the con- 
 clusion that Jack was innocent. But what of that 
 if a judge and jury had found him guilty ? He 
 was condemned to death, and every day, every 
 hour, brought him nearer to his doom. 
 
 Had Jacob needed any incentive to exertion, he 
 would have found it on all hands, both at home 
 and abroad. At home, from morning to night, 
 his wife and his granddaughter dinned into his
 
 172 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 ears, "Jack Heywood is innocent, and must bo 
 saved." 
 
 It was easy enough to emit that imperative 
 " must," but 'twas difficult to give effect to it. 
 
 On Saturday, as the foreman of the mills gave 
 utterance to the same opinion, when the hands 
 knocked off for the half-holiday at noon they 
 mobbed him. The result was that a mass meeting 
 was held, a memorial was prepared then and 
 there, and signed by every soul capable of signing 
 a name or making a mark ; and on Monday morn- 
 ing Jacob himself, accompanied by Grainger, the 
 solicitor, and Kachel, set off to town, taking the 
 memorial with them. 
 
 Immediately on their arrival they went down to 
 the House of Commons, where they obtained an 
 interview with the member for Barford, who took 
 them to the Home Secretary's private room. This 
 important functionary promised to communicate 
 with the judge who tried the case, and if the 
 circumstances required investigation, to give the 
 matter consideration. 
 
 "If they require investigation!" burst out 
 Rachel. *' They do demand it, sir. An innocent 
 man is about to be put to death, and thou canst 
 gave him ! " 
 
 "My dear young lady," replied the Secretary, 
 "I can do nothing of the kind; I cannot over- 
 rule the law. People arrive at the conclusion that 
 I am all-powerful, but I am as much the servant 
 of the law as the humblest police officer,"
 
 UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH. 173 
 
 " But he is innocent, sir ! " 
 
 "I have been told that of many murderers. 
 The other day I was assailed with a general howl 
 of execration because I declined to interfere with 
 the sentence passed on a cold-blooded assassin, 
 who, within an hour of his execution, confessed 
 that he had murdered his victim under circum- 
 stances of unutterable atrocity." 
 
 "But this man is no assassin. He is the best 
 and bravest of men. He loved the murdered man 
 from childhood. The murderer is a thief, who 
 stole the money, and Jack Heywood never stole a 
 farthing in his life." 
 
 "Well, well," said the Home Secretary, "I 
 promise you the first hour I can spare from more 
 pressing duties." 
 
 " More pressing ! " interrupted Eachel. " None 
 can be so pressing as this. His life is in danger." 
 
 " The prisoner has an eloquent advocate." 
 
 "Nay, not an eloquent, but an earnest one, 
 sir," sobbed Kachel. "He saved my life, snatched 
 me from the jaws of death, and I should take 
 shame to myself were I to pause at any means to 
 save him. Oh, do, sir, do, pray, see to it at once 
 — now, this instant ! For God's sake, save 
 him ! " 
 
 "Have you the papers about you?" inquired 
 the Secretary of Grainger. 
 
 " They are here, sir," said he, presenting them. 
 
 " Very well ; I will look over them to-night 
 when I get home ; and if I see any cause for in-
 
 174 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 terference I will communicate with the judge at 
 
 once." 
 
 *' May we see thee again, sir ? " inquired Rachel. 
 
 ** Hem, I'm not quite clear about that ; the 
 debate on the Address will last for a week or a 
 fortnight. Indeed, I ought to be in my place now. 
 You will excuse me." 
 
 " But surely, sir, we may see thee again ? " 
 
 ** On the whole, I think you had better not ; 
 but, on my honour, the matter shall have im- 
 mediate attention, and my secretary shall acquaint 
 you with the result." 
 
 With this cold comfort, he left them. 
 
 It was now Monday night, and the execution 
 was fixed for the following Monday. 
 
 Six days from doom and death ! 
 
 It was well for the Home Secretary that ho had 
 resolved to grant no further interview, for this 
 intractable young lady haunted the Home Office, 
 morning, noon, and night for the next two days. 
 
 Though the great man himself was unapproach- 
 able, his secretary was daily visible. He alleged 
 that the chief had looked through the papers, but 
 could not decide upon the matter till he had 
 heard from the judge, to whom he had already 
 written. 
 
 His lordship was on circuit. 
 
 " Where is his lordship ? " 
 
 " At York." 
 
 " We'll go there at once, grandfather." 
 
 ** It will be useless ; the judge will not see us."
 
 UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH. 175 
 
 "He shall see us, and hear us, too!" cried 
 Eachel. 
 
 It was idle to remonstrate with her, and to 
 York they went by the mail train — Grainger 
 and all. 
 
 It was two o'clock on Thursday morning when 
 they reached the Anstruther Hotel. 
 
 By daybreak they were at the judge's lodgings. 
 They might as well have stayed in town, for the 
 judge was obdurate, and declined to see them. 
 That day Eachel wrote quires of letters and scores 
 of telegrams to his lordship, which all reached the 
 same destination — the waste-paper basket. 
 
 Hour after hour passed while she waited im- 
 patiently for answers which never came. She 
 could not eat, or drink, or sleep. 
 
 Burning with a fever of unrest, at sunrise she 
 hurried out for a walk. Save for the casual 
 labourer limping towards his daily toil, or the 
 railway porter lazily coming towards the station, 
 or the worn-out night policeman crawling home 
 from his last beat, the city was still at rest. 
 Crossing the railway-station, she walked down 
 towards the Minster. Contemplating its rare 
 quaint beauty with but languid interest, she 
 hurried back and ascended the city walls, and 
 strolled towards the Barbican. 
 
 It was now Friday morning. Only three days 
 more, and then 
 
 What was Jack doing now ? Was he thinking 
 of her? Did he know that she was devoting
 
 176 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 every energy of blood, and Lone, and brain to 
 his rescue ? Of course he knew that she beheved 
 him innocent ; she had written to say so ; she 
 had told the old people ; she had told everybody 
 so a thousand times. 
 
 Three days — only three days ! 
 
 By this time she had crossed the Barbican, and 
 had reached the walls which overhang the Con- 
 vent. The nuns had turned forth for their con- 
 stitutional after matins. As she leant down to 
 look at them, they melted into air, and she saw, 
 or thought she saw, a prison — a condemned cell 
 — a face— his face, piteously, but speechlessly, 
 appealing to her. While she still gazed, the 
 mirage melted into the morning mist, and the 
 mist itself faded away before the sun, which rose 
 red as blood from behind the Convent. 
 
 With a gesture of despair she threw her arms 
 aloft, crying, "Oh, God! must he die? Is there 
 no help ? — no hope ? " As she spoke the words, 
 she came face to face with a little gentleman, clad 
 in a shabby, old-fashioned coat and vest, with a 
 haggy pair of Oxford-grey continuations somewhat 
 too short for his stumpy little legs, and disclosing 
 half an inch of white stocking between their 
 extremities and his loose-tied clumsy shoes. His 
 body was too small for his head, which was broad 
 and massive, and covered with a thatch of snowy 
 whiteness. A pair of shaggy eyebrows, black as a 
 blacking-brush, surmounted the eye of a lynx, the 
 beak of an eagle, and the mouth of a badger. A
 
 UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH. 177 
 
 huge white neckcloth was twisted in convoluted 
 folds round his neck — the white cambric frill of 
 his shirt was stained with snuff, with which he ever 
 and anon furnished his nose in great pinches from 
 his vestcoat pocket. 
 
 To complete his incongruous appearance, he 
 wore a shabby felt parson's hat, pulled down over 
 his brows after the fashion of the Plantagenet 
 period. 
 
 This gentleman's face w^as cast in no ordinary 
 mould — once seen, it was not easily forgotten. 
 She had seen it once before. Then it was sur- 
 rounded with a horse-hair wig, and he was in the 
 act of placing a little black cap upon it ; the scene 
 — the voice — the face — came back to her as if by 
 inspiration. 
 
 Throwing herself before him, she cried, " God 
 hath not brought thee here for nothing. I am 
 Eachel Dene ! The man condemned to death at 
 Leeds a little while ago is innocent ! Save him, 
 or at least grant time for his innocence to be 
 proved." 
 
 The old gentleman gave a long, low whistle, 
 and muttered to himself, "Here's a pretty kettle 
 of fish ! D d hard a man can't take a con- 
 stitutional or look at a pretty girl without being 
 let in for an arrangement of this kind." 
 
 Although she heard him mumbling, she could 
 not distinguish a word of what he said. 
 
 ** Thou dost not speak," she continued. "For 
 God's sake give me some hope."
 
 178 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 "I'm not clear," he replied sturdily, ''that I 
 ought not to commit you for contempt of court for 
 sending me those indiscreet letters, and those 
 audacious telegrams ; or, at least, to give you in 
 charge to the nearest police magistrate. But I 
 never could say no to a pair of bright eyes in my 
 life ; so get up, pray, lady, and dry your eyes, and 
 don't snivel — zounds, don't snivel, but listen ! " 
 
 "Yes, yes," sobbed Eachel. 
 
 "I shall be in town to-morrow night, and will 
 see the Home Secretary. Beyond that, I can 
 say nothing. Though the heavens should fall, 
 justice shall be done — that, and nothing more or 
 less." 
 
 Then, with a kind of grim, cynical humour, he 
 continued, "Now get you gone, you handsome 
 hussy ! If you are wise — though I suppose it's 
 idle to expect a woman that's pretty to be prudent 
 — forget that you have seen me. That'll do. 
 There, you needn't kiss my hand." 
 
 The next minute, with an activity beyond his 
 years, the old gentleman had disappeared down 
 the Barbican. 
 
 When she returned to the hotel, Eachel made 
 an attempt at breakfast — a poor one ; still, it was 
 an attempt. 
 
 "While she was hesitating how to break the ice 
 for the journey, Grainger came from the Castle 
 •with news to the effect that the assizes would 
 terminate on the morrow, and that the judge 
 would return to town that night by the express.
 
 UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH. 179 
 
 **We had better get back at once, grandpa'," 
 said Eacbel. 
 
 So to town they went, having previously tele- 
 graphed Joan and Jasper to meet them at 
 Wakefield, when they paused for five minutes to 
 tell the old couple that every effort was being 
 made for the reversal of the sentence. 
 
 Both Jacob Dene and Grainger urged upon the 
 Heywoods not to buoy up Jack with false hopes. 
 Eachel, however, sent her assurance of his 
 innocence, and off they sped to town. 
 
 That night she slept a little, but woke at day- 
 break to go over her interview with the judge, to 
 recall his words, his tones, his looks. He would 
 be in town to-night ; and then — then, only twenty- 
 four hours more. 
 
 Were she a man she could go forth amongst the 
 multitude which seethed up and down the Strand 
 beneath the windows of the hotel. Being a girl, 
 she could only sit still and sufi"er — no, not sit still, 
 for she paced wildly to and fro. They tried to 
 console her ; but she had no thought for any one 
 save the man who lay under sentence of death 
 down yonder. 
 
 At length night came, and with it came a cruel, 
 crawling fog, which wrapped the busy thoroughfare 
 in darkness, through which only a gleam of some 
 funereal torch could be seen, while a roar of hoarse 
 voices arose from the pandemonium beneath. 
 Presently the fog penetrated into the very room 
 in which they sat, peopling it with phantoms. It
 
 i8o RACHEL DENE, 
 
 was in vain that Jacob Dene piled the" huge grate 
 with fuel ; the fog remained triumphant, and they 
 could scarcely see to the other end of the room. 
 
 By-and-by, Grainger glided in, grim, and grey, 
 and ghastly. 
 
 " The train has been two hours late," he gasped 
 hoarsely; "but the judge has arrived, and has 
 driven home to Berkeley Square." 
 
 " Will he not see the Home Secretary to-night ? " 
 
 ** It is now eleven ; and to venture out again in 
 such a fog as this would be to tamper with his life." 
 
 " His life ! — his / " At that moment she thought 
 of only one life in the world. 
 
 Dawn broke cold and wet, and the hours sped 
 faster and faster still, till the sun gave place to 
 shade. 
 
 Night was falling on Kirkdale Gaol. 
 
 With beating hearts, Jasper and Joan Heywood 
 ■were taking their last leave of the lad they loved 
 so well, when Eachel Dene burst into the prison, 
 bearing the news that his punishment was com- 
 muted to penal servitude for life ! 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 PRISON WALLS. 
 
 When the news reached Calais that Heywood's 
 life had been spared, it exercised a salutary effect 
 on the young Earl's health. 
 Ealph got better daily, and in about a month's
 
 PRISON WALLS. 18 1 
 
 time he was well enough to return to England. 
 While he was travelling to town hy the tidal train, 
 Jack Heywood was travelling in the same direction 
 from another point of departure. The Earl was 
 fashionably attired, and a first-class saloon car 
 was reserved for him and his friends. Jack was 
 clad in a hideous suit of home-spun, marked with 
 the broad arrow, and he and his friends — upwards 
 of four and twenty of the greatest ruffians in 
 England — were securely handcuffed to each other, 
 and packed like cattle into a fourth-class compart- 
 ment. 
 
 Our hero's journey was uneventful enough, save 
 for one incident. To be sure, his new acquaint- 
 ances beguiled the time with conversation full of 
 obscenity and blas^Dhemy ; but, as far as he was 
 concerned, they might have been talking in an 
 unknown tongue. He sat near the window, and 
 looked listlessly at the ever-changing panorama as 
 the train whirled by ; but neither sight nor sound 
 made the least impression on his darkened brain. 
 
 At last, however, he heard the cry of '* Don- 
 caster ! " and at the same sound he awoke with 
 a shudder of horror. In an instant it all came 
 back to him. That fatal Leger — the Grand Stand 
 — the drink — the fight — her pale face, with its 
 disdainful and reproachful look. Jabez, too ! 
 There was the refreshment-room opposite — where 
 he had smashed the champagne bottles. Strange, 
 too, the very girl who waited behind the bar then 
 was now drawing tea from an urn.
 
 1 82 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 As he looked forth, she canght sight of him. He 
 shrank back, and hid himself in the corner — hut 
 it "was too late ; she had seen him. 
 
 The first bell rang. The passengers streamed 
 out of the room and into the train. The girl came 
 running out with a cup of tea in one hand and a 
 jug of milk in the other. 
 
 Approaching the carriage, she said to Jack, 
 " Sup, lad ! It'll not scald thee ; see, this is new 
 milk." 
 
 His heart came to his mouth with a jump, and 
 if it hadn't been for the ruffianly eyes upon him, 
 he could have cried like a child. 
 
 As it was, he gulped down his emotion, and said, 
 "Nay, thank ye ; I cannot drink ! " 
 
 " But you must ! " replied the girl; "you will, 
 to please me." 
 
 He took the tea, and drank it. 
 
 ** God bless thee, lass ! " he gasjDed. 
 
 " God bless thee, too, lad ! " she responded, 
 *' and bring thee safe through." 
 
 The ruffians around were subdued to silence, and 
 tears came from more than one case-hardened 
 heart as the train glided away towards Peter- 
 borough. 
 
 When they got to King's Cross the van awaited 
 them, and they were driven rapidly to Brixton. 
 On their arrival at the prison, they were shunted 
 into an open space for examination by the officials. 
 
 Their irons were now taken off, and they were 
 checked and counted like so many beasts of
 
 PRISON WALLS. 183 
 
 burthen. A receipt was given for them, and a 
 soldierly man, in an undress military uniform, 
 read the prison rules in a harsh voice, especially 
 impressing upon the new arrivals that they must 
 observe perpetual silence towards each other, and 
 that any breach of discipline would entail so many 
 days upon the crank, accompanied by bread and 
 water. 
 
 The intelligence was received with a growl that 
 was peremptorily suppressed. 
 
 Then the warder selected Jack and a fellow- 
 prisoner about the same height, and beckoned 
 them to follow into a large shed, inside which they 
 found a bath-room. Here they were ordered to 
 strip, and get into the bath. Jack's companion 
 evidently understood the process. At any rate, 
 he stripped from head to foot, plunged in and out 
 again on the other side, and slipped into a new 
 suit of prison clothes, marked with a number, and 
 certain hieroglyphics known to the initiated. 
 
 At first. Jack was disposed to kick at this 
 revolting business, but, finding the water clean, 
 and that he was surrounded by half a dozen 
 stalwart six-footers, he concluded not to resist. 
 "When he had finished his ablutions, he was con- 
 ducted to his cell, an apartment four feet wide, by 
 seven feet long, and seven feet high. A small 
 pane of glass from the inside, and a somewhat 
 larger from the outside, lighted up the place, 
 discovering a hammock, mattress, a blanket, 
 and a pair of sheets, some straps and hooks, a
 
 1 84 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 stool, a pannikin, a copper washing-basin, and a 
 Bible. 
 
 The warder under whose charge he was placed, 
 said, '* You seem a decent chap, and are not up 
 to this game ; take a straight tip — if you want to 
 do your time easy, and shorten your stretch, keep 
 your crib clean as a new pin; don't talk, don't 
 grumble, do what you're told, and, above all, don't 
 ask any questions. Baggin will be round in half 
 an hour, and you can turn in to roost for the 
 night." 
 
 The door closed with a bang, was locked, barred, 
 and bolted, and Jack was alone, or rather he 
 thought he was ; but just as he had arrived at the 
 conclusion that, at any rate, he was rid of his 
 loathsome companions, he heard a scratching noise 
 from the other side of the partition to his cell. 
 Presently the sound was repeated — there came a 
 scratch from the other side, and another. He 
 didn't know what to make of it. 
 
 At last a voice whispered, " Mate, are you one 
 of the new chums ? " 
 
 Before he could reply, from the other side came 
 the inquiry, " Mate, do you come from the smoke 
 or the steel ? " 
 
 " I don't understand," he replied. 
 
 "Don't you? Then where the blazes do you 
 come from ? " 
 
 ** Yorkshire," he replied. 
 
 " Yorkshire?" continued his interlocutor. ** The 
 Yorkshire tykes are the downiest coves in the gang.
 
 PRISON WALLS. 185 
 
 In course, you've got some stuff? Sling us a 
 wing ! " 
 
 *' A wing?" 
 
 "A pinch of stuff!" 
 
 "What stuff?" 
 
 ''What stuff ? Why, baccy, to be sure ! " 
 
 ** I haven't got any ! " 
 
 " You Yorkshire ? Why, you're a regular wing ! " 
 
 This interesting colloquy was interrupted by a 
 loud, strident voice. 
 
 " What's this ? What's this ? Prisoners talk- 
 ing against regulations ! No. 91, I shall report 
 you to-morrow ! Here's your baggln ! " 
 
 With that, the door was unbolted, and an 
 attendant threw a lump of bread and a can of hot 
 cocoa into Jack's hands. By this time Jack was 
 hungry, so he devoured it eagerly. Half an hour 
 afterwards he got out his hammock, and slung it. 
 Five minutes later he fell fast asleep ; body and 
 soul were wearied out. When, at last, he awoke, 
 he could scarcely realize where he was ; but the 
 next minute it was all clear enough. He was a 
 prisoner for life. For life ! — for life ! How could 
 he ever live through it ? 
 
 It was now broad day, and the warder opened 
 the door. 
 
 "Attention, No. 91!" he said, in a whisper. 
 " I'm not a-going to report you for last night, but 
 mind it don't happen again ! If you behave your- 
 self, I'll get you put on a good gang among some 
 decent fellows."
 
 IS6 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 At this moment the bell struck four. 
 "■ Now pack up your traps ! It only requires a 
 little knack ; I'll show you how to do it. That's 
 your sort ! In half an hour baggin will be served 
 out ; then you've an hour to do what you like with 
 before chapel." 
 
 As yet, Jack retained his appetite, and he did 
 ample justice to his bread and cocoa. "When 
 chapel time came, he was ordered to fall in 
 amongst a hundred or more men, of all sorts, 
 shapes, and sizes, all clad in the same hideous 
 uniform of crime — all with cropped heads and 
 clipped beards ; some with foreheads villainously 
 low, and the furtive, restless eye of the habitual 
 criminal; some with features and demeanours 
 which spoke of refinement, but few of remorse. 
 All regarded him with eager, anxious eyes. 
 He looked, endeavouring vainly to descry some 
 of the companions of yesterday's journey; but 
 evidently they were locked in another part of the 
 prison. 
 
 As the word " Fall in — quick march ! " was 
 given, they went sharply down the corridor towards 
 the chapel. 
 
 The service was somewhat inarticulately set 
 forth by a sandy-haired youth, evidently not yet out 
 of his first sleep. At a signal the pious congrega- 
 tion fell upon their knees and began to murmur 
 the responses; then on either side of the new- 
 comer, under cover of their prayer-books, the 
 thieves whisper in half a dozen dissonant voices.
 
 PRISON WALLS, 187 
 
 " Are you a new chum ? " " How long have you 
 got?" "Are you a lifer? or is it only a few 
 years' stretch ? " " What are you in for ? " 
 
 These were something like the words, denuded 
 of the blasphemy by which they were preceded 
 and followed. 
 
 Being a man of the people, Jack had been 
 accustomed to hear his friends garnish their daily 
 talk with strong adjectives and other ornaments of 
 speech, but the filth and obscenity which now 
 assailed his ears made every drop of decent blood 
 in his body boil with a loatliing he could not con- 
 ceal. Truly the House of God seemed changed to 
 a Gehenna. 
 
 After chapel he was taken before the doctor, who 
 examined him as to his bodily health ; then before 
 the curate, who examined him as to his health 
 spiritual; after that he was conducted to the 
 prison-barber, who cropped his head close to his 
 poll, but spared his virgin beard, which, in truth, 
 was only just beginning to sprout ; then he was 
 taken before the Governor, who was fortunately a 
 soldier and a gentleman. 
 
 He took stock of the new prisoner, gave him 
 permission to write home, which he did at once, 
 and handed the letter to the warder for govern- 
 mental inspection. The warder, in his turn, took 
 stock of Jasper's address, with results to be here- 
 after chronicled. 
 
 When the letter was despatched Jack was 
 ordered out for exercise. He prowled round and
 
 iS8 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 round the yard, following a shambling lot of gaol 
 birds, who, despite the presence of the officer on 
 guard, tried to incite him to conversation. He 
 had no heed for them ; he had only one thought — 
 escape. But as he looked at the huge walls, 
 surrounded with their impregnable buttresses ; the 
 iron-barred windows ; the massive, iron-bound, 
 oaken doors, trebly barred and bolted, hope died 
 away in his heart. 
 
 It was still early in the day, and he was now 
 taken to join the new company to which by the 
 Governor's order he was allotted. In a large 
 central hall, on stools apart from each other, sat 
 forty or fifty men, variously emiDloyed ; some were 
 mending clothes ; some, very old men, were knit- 
 ting stockings ; other men, apparently of a superior 
 class, were colouring maps at a bench set apart 
 for the purpose. To the last detachment he was 
 conducted, and as this was a sort of thing to which 
 he was accustomed, he soon polished off his work, 
 and paused to take stock of his companions. 
 
 Despite the regulation as to silence, and the 
 repeated interference of the warders, these men 
 were as communicative as they were inquisitive. 
 One vouchsafed the information that he was a 
 barrister, who, in a moment of aberration of 
 intellect, confounded a friend's signature with his 
 own ; another alleged that he had been a banker, 
 who had made indiscreet speculations ; a third was 
 an author who had a misfortune ; a fourth a sea- 
 captain who was a victim to a conspiracy on the
 
 PRISON WALLS. 189 
 
 part of some unknown seamen ; some alleged they 
 were innocent ; others, on the contrary, boasted of 
 their guilt. 
 
 Presently they were all ordered to return to their 
 cells for the midday meal, which consisted of 
 meat, bread, and potatoes. A couple of hours' 
 rest followed, for those who were so disposed ; but 
 for Jack there was no rest. Was there no means 
 of escape ? he asked himself again and again. He 
 would find a way, or make one. 
 
 Were they thinking of him at home ? he won- 
 dered. Of course they were; there could be no 
 doubt about that. There could be no doubt, more- 
 over, that they believed in his innocence. But 
 she — did she believe him innocent ? He thought 
 she did ; indeed, he knew in his heart of hearts 
 she did. He thought, too, that she might have 
 loved him if he only had had the chance to woo 
 and win her ; but no, it was all over ! 
 
 Another bell, afternoon work, the evening meal, 
 then locked up for the night. 
 
 Presently a warder came round with orders. 
 
 ** Put your brooms under the door for candles." 
 
 Looking down, he saw a gap of some four inches 
 between the door and the floor. Instinctively he 
 shoved forth his broom, and a lighted candle was 
 shoved into his cell by a convict who accompanied 
 the warder. The door was slammed and locked, 
 and they passed on. 
 
 The schoolmaster had given him " Sir John 
 Mandeville's Travels " to read. He tried to in-
 
 190 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 terest himself in the quaint old mariner's story, 
 but the letters danced up and down before him, 
 for his heart was far away. 
 
 The candle fell upon the floor. Even the light 
 had been a companion, and now that it was out he 
 was alone with his sad thoughts and his despair. 
 
 Amidst the silence came the crafty scratch of 
 the night before on the iron partition which sepa- 
 rated him from his neighbour. This time he 
 scratched in reply. Quick as thought came the 
 thieves' whisper he was beginning to understand. 
 
 ''Mate?" 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "What have you doused the glim for ? '' 
 
 " It fell down and went out." 
 
 " Then sling it under the door, here to the 
 right." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 "What for! Why, you don't suppose I want 
 to curl my hair with it, do you ? " 
 
 " But you have a light burning ? " 
 
 " In course I have. But I don't want yonr*n for 
 burning ; I want it for eating. I am that 'ungry, 
 I could eat a bullock ! " 
 
 Jack couldn't withstand this appeal, and he 
 slung out his candle to his voracious neighbour, 
 who scraped it into his cell with his broom, whis- 
 pering, " Jolly good luck to you, Yorkshire ; if 
 ever you're up a tree, and I can give you a lift, 
 count on Ginger ! " 
 
 Presently came the last bell, and the prison was
 
 PRISON WALLS, 191 
 
 at rest. Fortunately, tired nature took compas- 
 Bion upon poor Jack, who for a time forgot his 
 troubles in the blest nepenthe of sleep. 
 
 Thus passed a week or more in the dreary 
 routine of prison life, until a letter came from 
 Deepdale, so soft, so tender, and so sacred, that 
 it inspired him with hope. Were all the world in 
 arms against him, he was sure of the love of those 
 two fond and faithful hearts. She, too, had been 
 to inquire after him; she still believed him inno- 
 cent. Ah, there was some comfort left ; and after 
 all, he was young, and life was strong within him ; 
 but, indeed, it was his ever-abounding vitality 
 which, apart from the degradation, made prison 
 life so hateful to him. 
 
 Jones, the friendly warder, took an early oppor- 
 tunity of informing him that he, too, had heard 
 from Jasper Heywood, who had sent him money. 
 This was news indeed ! If Jack liked he could 
 have "stuff" (tobacco). He didn't care for 
 ** stuff ; " but Jones thought a little might bo 
 desirable to conciliate his neighbours, this being 
 the luxury most prayed by these unhappy wretches. 
 Tobacco was accordingly got, and Jack doled it 
 out liberally amongst his immediate chums, with 
 the result that "Yorkshire" became amazingly 
 popular, more especially with a certain sandy- 
 haired gent, with a twist in his eye, who confi- 
 dentially informed him that he was "Ginger," his 
 next door neighbour. 
 
 Thanks to the underground communication thus
 
 192 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 established, through Jones, Jack was enabled to 
 write home once a week, and got an answer the 
 next. 
 
 He was glad to hear that the invention was a 
 great and pronounced success, and that Jacob 
 Dene had behaved most handsomely in the matter. 
 Every week a considerable sum was placed in the 
 bank to Jasper Heywood's account, who held it in 
 trust for Jack. 
 
 By this time he had grown tired of colouring 
 maps, so he asked and obtained permission for 
 active work, and was put at the head of the build- 
 ing gang. 
 
 One day the Governor called him. 
 
 "No. 91," said he, "you have a clean slate and 
 a good record, without a single black mark. Every 
 good mark goes towards the remission of your 
 sentence; and, if you mind what you are about, 
 it will be remitted to five and twenty years, perhaps 
 even less. Think of that." 
 
 He did think of it ; he thought of nothing else 
 by day or night. Five and twenty years ! It might 
 as well be five and twenty thousand ! Long before 
 five years had passed, Eachel Dene would be 
 married to Ealph Hollis, perhaps the mother of 
 Ealph's children. There was madness in the very 
 thought. 
 
 If he could get out — if he could only see her — 
 speak to her ! 
 
 Time was getting on, days had lengthened into 
 weeks, weeks into months, months were crawling
 
 ANOTHER CHANGE. 193 
 
 up until tliG end of the year was at hand — the end 
 of the period when Jack Hey wood would have passed 
 his probation at Brixton, and be transferred to 
 Portland, Portsmouth, or Dartmoor. From those 
 penal settlements escape was impossible ! 
 
 CHAPTER XXir. 
 
 ANOTHER CHANGE. 
 
 At last one day the Black Maria drove up to the 
 door of Brixton Gaol, and a tall, gaunt man, clad 
 in convict's garb, and heavily ironed on either 
 hand to two armed warders, slipped out of the 
 ]3rison into the van, followed by a third officer. 
 
 No one, not even Joan Heywood, would have 
 recognized the prisoner, but the convict in question 
 was No. 91 — in other words, Jack Heywood. 
 
 Upon arriving at the railway-station, he and his 
 guards were rapidly conducted to a compartment 
 especially reserved for them ; the third officer 
 returned to the booking-office, took four tickets, 
 despatched a telegram, rejoined his friends laden 
 with newspapers and refreshments, solid and 
 liquid. 
 
 Tickets were duly examined, the bell rang, and 
 off went the train. 
 
 "Now, No. 91," said the officer in charge, play- 
 fully, "we don't want to make matters more dis- 
 agreeable than is necessary. Them revolvers are 
 

 
 194 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 loaded; we shan't use the things unless we're 
 obleeged, but we've got to hand you over alive or 
 dead at Dartmoor. Which is to be ? " 
 
 "I don't care which," replied Jack, listlessly. 
 
 "Oh, that's all nonsense! You're only a lad 
 yourself, and while there's life there's hope ; you 
 don't know what may turn up. Anyhow, what I've 
 got to say is this : If you'll give us your word not 
 to try no tricks with us, we'll take them bracelets 
 off your wrists, and you can smoke your pipe, and 
 read the papers, and enjoy yourself; and if you 
 like to make one at a game of * nap,' why I sha'n't 
 say no." 
 
 ** Take these cursed things off," replied Jack, 
 ''and I pledge you my word I'll ne'er trouble 
 you!" 
 
 As much to the relief of Jack's captors as him- 
 self, the handcuffs were taken off. 
 
 "Have a smoke ?" inquired the affable officer. 
 
 *• No, thanks." 
 
 " Have the paper, then ? " 
 
 " Thanks ! " 
 
 He took the paper, and glanced over it listlessly. 
 There was nothing in it to interest him, so he 
 looked through the window. 
 
 As he took in the ever-changing beauty of hill 
 and dale, of wood and water, his thoughts reverted 
 to the peaceful Yorkshire valley, the village 
 churchyard where his mother lay sleeping, and 
 the old house at home, and those who loved him 
 there.
 
 ANOTHER CHANGE. 195 
 
 " What is the reason I have not heard from my 
 grandfather?" he inquired abruptly. 
 
 "I don't know," repHed one of the men. 
 
 "Look here, lads!" said Jack, eagerly; "I'vo 
 got twenty pounds ! " 
 
 '* The devil you have ! Why, you've been 
 searched over and over again ! How did you 
 manage to hide it ? " 
 
 "Never mind; that's my business! I'll give 
 you ten pounds of it if you'll post me a letter ! " 
 
 " Hand it over, then ! " said the officer, smiHng 
 at his comrades. 
 
 Extracting a twenty-pound Bank of England 
 note from the lining of his jacket, Jack handed it 
 over to the officer, who said quietly, " I'll get 
 change at the next station." 
 
 When he got to the station he jumped out, 
 changed the note at the booking-office for ten 
 sovereigns and ten-pound note, and bought at the 
 bookstall a couple of sheets of note-paper, an 
 envelope, an automatic pencil ; then he bought a 
 bottle of whisky in the refreshment-room, and, 
 thus armed, returned to the carriage. 
 
 " There you are. No. 91 ; there's your tenner ! 
 Now, Tom, there's three pound for you ; three for 
 you, Dick ; three for this child ; and another for 
 the party who negotiated the transaction! Now 
 just a taste to wet the bargain ! " 
 
 Then he opened the bottle of whisky, and sent 
 it round, returned to his pipe and his game of 
 nap, while Jack wrote his letter. It occupied
 
 196 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 him some time, and took him a little out of his 
 trouble. 
 
 When he had finished and sealed it, he gave 
 it to the officer, who faithfully undertook to 
 post it. 
 
 The journey was long and fatiguing to the 
 officers, but Jack could have wished it twice as 
 long, for it was still a glimpse of freedom, the last 
 he would have for many a day. The warders grew 
 very jolly over their pipes and whisky, and, at last, 
 they prepared their dinner, and invited Jack to 
 join them, which he did. 
 
 Even a warder is a man — that is, when he's not 
 on duty ; and as these fellows began to talk about 
 house and home, and wife and bairns. Jack's heart 
 softened to them. Their jollity was contagious. 
 He thought he would like a pipe ; they gave him 
 one, and as he saw the blue fumes ascending, and 
 the blue waves toying with the bosom of the white 
 shore, or coyly kissing the bases of the crimson 
 tors, he remembered that, after all, he was only 
 three and twenty; that there are many years 
 betwixt that and three score and ten ; that while 
 there's life there's hope ; and finally, that time and 
 he were a match against any other two. 
 
 Night was falling when they reached Portland, 
 manacled together, as they were at the beginning 
 of the journey. 
 
 His last words before they entered the prison 
 were, " You won't forget the letter ? " 
 
 The officer nodded. Some writing took place,
 
 ANOTHER CHANGE, 197 
 
 and some official documents were exchanged. 
 While this was being done, one of the officials said 
 to the officer in charge, " I scarcely know where to 
 put him, for there's been the devil to pay within 
 the past few days ! There's been a mutiny — had 
 to call in the sojers — and some of the ringleaders 
 are going to catch toko to-morrow. I expect 
 they'll get it hot, for our old man won't stand any 
 nonsense ! Let me see, Jackson," he continued ; 
 "you must put the prisoner into cell No. 171. We 
 can arrange about his billet to-morrow; it's too 
 late to-night." 
 
 Jack shook hands with his friendly escort, whis- 
 pered once more " The letter ! " and was led to his 
 oell, where he soon fell fast asleep. 
 
 He awoke refreshed. To his astonishment, he 
 was not called up as early as usual. Habit had, 
 however, become second nature, and up he jumped. 
 As soon as he was stirring came the usual scratch- 
 ing on either side, and the usual inquiries from 
 unknown companions. 
 
 From these interlocutors he gathered corrobo- 
 ration of the officer's story about the mutiny. One 
 or two of the ringleaders had been shot down ; 
 others were to be stripped up to the triangles that 
 morning. 
 
 Presently breakfast was served ; the men, how- 
 ever, in this part of the prison, were all confined to 
 their cells — an unusual occurrence, which was 
 explained, however, later on, when the cracks of 
 the cat, and the shrieks of the wretches under the
 
 198 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 lash, rang through the corridors. At the sound of 
 a punishment, a chorus of sympathy arose from 
 every cell, and filled the place. 
 
 " Silence there ! " roared a strident voice. 
 
 Every man was silent, for he knew not whose 
 turn might be next. The door of Jack's cell was 
 suddenly unlocked ; the same voice called out 
 "No. 91, step out. Eight about face — quick 
 march ! " 
 
 Following his guide past the quadrangle, he saw 
 a sight which he never forgot, which he never will 
 forget to his dying day. 
 
 In the centre of the square three half-naked 
 men, tied up to the triangles, were writhing and 
 shrieking beneath the cat, which was being vigor- 
 ously applied to their bare backs. A company of 
 soldiers, armed with guns and bayonets, formed 
 round the square. Ten or twelve men were being 
 led half-flayed alive to their cells, or, presumably, 
 to the infirmary. 
 
 These, then, were the mutineers ; and an awful 
 set of ruffians they looked. As they staggered 
 along, their yells of agony and their revolting 
 blasphemies filled the air. At this moment Jack 
 almost canoned against a convict with a black face 
 and a bag of soot thrown over his shoulder. 
 
 " You here, Yorkshire ? " said a familiar voice. 
 " I thought you'd taken your hook." 
 
 " Ginger ! " exclaimed Jack. 
 
 " Yes, Ginger. Brixton was purgatory ; but this 
 is hell ! "
 
 ANOTHER CHANGE. 199 
 
 " Silence ! " roared the officer, and the man 
 passed on. 
 
 When Jack found himself in the presence of a 
 stern military-looking man of three score and 
 upwards, he brought himself to attention, and 
 executed the requisite salute. 
 
 ** Name and register ? " demanded the Go- 
 vernor's clerk. 
 
 "Name, Heywood ; I have no register yet," 
 replied Jack. 
 
 *' Officer, see that this man has a register. 
 Prisoner, we have a good record in your favour 
 from Brixton, so we'll give you a chance. Only 
 mind, no nonsense ; you've seen how we deal with 
 mutiny here. Take him away." 
 
 The next moment he was led out of the office, 
 and conducted towards the bath-room. The water 
 looked cleaner ; besides, as he had it all to himself, 
 he rather enjoyed it than otherwise. Ten minutes 
 later he found himself in a room filled with photo- 
 graphs of prisoners. Here he encountered Ginger 
 disguised in a clean face. He had had his 
 photograph taken twice, once in his prison dress, 
 and once in a kind of nondescript civilian costume, 
 which comprised in one and the same garment, 
 coat, vest, shirt, neck-cloth. 
 
 " Ha, Yorkshire ! " said the voice of Ginger ; 
 ** come to have your pictur' taken ? Mine's first 
 rate. I'm goin' to ax the cove to let me have one 
 to send home to the old ooman." 
 
 "Silence !— clear out ! " said a warder.
 
 200 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 Ginger disappeared, and another convict 
 emerged from the inner room. 
 
 " This way," said the warder, as he led Jack to 
 the studio. 
 
 The photographer, who was himself a convict, 
 was busily arranging the camera. 
 
 " Sit down yonder," said he brusquely, " and 
 put your head in the rest." 
 
 " To be handed down as a thief, in a thief's 
 dress ! I decline ! " 
 
 "Now, my man," said the warder, " do listen to 
 reason, or you'll get into trouble." 
 
 " You may spare your speech. I won't be taken 
 in this infamous garb ! " 
 
 " Then we shall have to tie you down." 
 
 ♦' You'd better not." 
 
 Again the warder sounded his whistle, again 
 came two of his myrmidons, and another conflict 
 occurred, during which the camera was smashed to 
 pieces, and Jack was overpowered and ironed, and 
 taken before the Governor. 
 
 " Six days dry bread and cold water, and a hun- 
 dred marks. Lock him up ! " was all the autocrat 
 vouchsafed to utter. 
 
 That night Jack was famished with hunger. 
 
 Directly after the lights were out, he heard a 
 scratching at the wall. As soon as he scratched 
 in reply, there came the thieves' whisper, to which 
 he was now becoming accustomed. 
 
 " Hi, Yorkshire ! " 
 
 ♦'Here!"
 
 ANOTHER CHANGE. 201 
 
 " I'm Ginger ! " 
 
 "Where are you? " 
 
 " Here to the right ! Hist ! I sweep the 
 chimbleys, and have the run of the shop. I've 
 got some grub for you — some toke and a piece of 
 cold beef. I'm a-going to sling it under the door ; 
 put your broom out ! Got it ? " 
 
 " Yes ! " 
 
 " That's right ! Old Jenkins won't starve you 
 while Ginger can nobble a bit ! " 
 
 " AVho's Jenkins ? " 
 
 ** Your warder ! " 
 
 Thanks ta Ginger, " Old Jenkins " did not quite 
 starve his prisoner. 
 
 At the end of his six days, Jenkins came and 
 marched Jack once more towards the photo- 
 grapher's studio. This time he positively refused 
 to enter the room. 
 
 "All right, my lad," said Jenkins. "Now will 
 you walk to the Governor's office, or must we 
 carry you? " 
 
 " I'll walk," replied Jack. 
 
 The autocrat was more irate than ever. 
 
 " Nine days' confinement — bread and water — two 
 hundred marks — put him into second probation — 
 and send him with No. 16 to the West Quarry ! " 
 
 ** Please, sir " said Jack. 
 
 " Out with him ! " 
 
 " One moment ! I expect a letter " 
 
 " Obdurate refractories forfeit all right to letters. 
 See Regulation No. 19."
 
 202 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 "But I " 
 
 " Take him away ! " 
 
 Jack went back to bis cell without a word. 
 That night Ginger came to the rescue, with a 
 hunch of bread, and a slice of boiled mutton. 
 
 "What's second probation?" inquired Jack, 
 through a chink in his cell. 
 
 "You'll be moved to the punishment cells — a 
 couple o' screws will be told off to look arter you, 
 so that nobody can come a-nigh you ; but, never 
 you mind, Yorkshire; you can allays depend on 
 Ginger! " 
 
 Jack did his nine days, and, thanks to the 
 faithful Ginger, came out stronger than he went 
 in. Nest day, came two warders to escort him to 
 the West Quarries. They were the two fellows 
 with whom he had the conflict at the bath. 
 
 "It's our turn, mate, now," said one of these 
 gentlemen ; " and see if we don't cry quits ! " 
 
 Jack had made up his mind to control his 
 tongue. His escort handed him over to the officer 
 in charge of the gang, who gave him a pickaxe, 
 and set him at some utterly useless work, after 
 giving certain directions. This done, he was set 
 apart at a distance of ten or twelve paces from the 
 rest of the gang, who worked in couples, tickling 
 the ground with their pickaxes, while, desjpite the 
 regulations, they laughed and talked to each 
 other. 
 
 When they knocked off at meal-times, his two 
 friends came and took charge of him, and marched
 
 ANOTHER CHANGE. 203 
 
 him back to his cell for dinner. No reproaches of 
 these fellows could move him to utter a word. 
 
 Back again to work after dinner — back to his 
 cell for the evening, still guarded in the same 
 manner. But the seclusion to which he was con- 
 demned was rather agreeable than otherwise, for 
 he was left alone in chapel even, where he had 
 now a pew to himself. 
 
 This daily routine was broken by the weekly 
 bath — the weekly medical examination — a talk 
 with the schoolmaster, who never failed to bring 
 him some interesting book — a theological argu- 
 ment with the chaplain, and Sunday parade before 
 the Governor, and a nightly banquet smuggled 
 into his cell by his friend Ginger. Day after day 
 he asked for letters, but with the stereotyped 
 answer, "None! " 
 
 Then came upon him once more the ferocious 
 desire for freedom. Morning, noon, and night, he 
 thought of nothing else. In his mad eagerness he 
 never paused to calculate the almost absolute im- 
 possibility of escape, or that his prison garb would 
 inevitably lead to his immediate recapture. He 
 remembered, too, that the warders were armed, 
 and that, their orders being imperative, they would 
 not hesitate to shoot him down if they caught him 
 attempting to escape. 
 
 After all, he could but die once, and anything 
 was better than this cruel life. If the chance 
 came, he would take it. It came sooner than he 
 had anticipated.
 
 204 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 CHAPTEK XXIII. 
 
 CAPTAIN FITZHEKBERT. 
 
 Meanwhile, ■while Ileywood, the convict, was suf- 
 fering a hving death, Ealph, the Earl, had come 
 back from death to life. But coincident with the 
 recovery of his health was the deadening of his 
 moral sense. Satisfied that his secret was safe 
 with Fitzherbert, he no longer thought of personal 
 martyrdom, and his thoughts again set to the old 
 centre — Eachel Dene. 
 
 He returned to London, young, handsome, rich, 
 courted and admired. What could the heart of 
 man desire more ? Unfortunately, however, there 
 was a skeleton in his lordship's cupboard which 
 gave him no rest by day, no sleep by night, which 
 set his fevered blood afire, and drove him forth to 
 seek forgetfulness in what men call pleasure. Go 
 where he might by day or night, by bed and board, 
 he was dogged by two ghostly phantoms — th6 ghost 
 of a dead crime, and the present apparition of a 
 living trouble. 
 
 There were times, indeed, when Ealph felt in- 
 duced to end his misery. He would atone for the 
 past — would speak the truth— would accept dis- 
 grace, infamy, punishment, and set his rival free. 
 These movements of remorse, however, were of 
 brief duration ; he kept a smiling face to the world 
 while his heart was tortured by ever present agonies
 
 CAPTAIN FITZHERBERT. 205 
 
 — agonies which AjMi rendered doubly painful to 
 bear from the kn^Tddge that his guilty secret was 
 known to another. "^- ' 
 
 But although Fitzhcrbert now knew all, his 
 attachment to his friend was great, his devotion 
 sincere. What he knew he knew, but he kept the 
 knowledge to himself, and all reference to the 
 subject was tabooed between them. 
 
 To speak the truth, the Captain was just then 
 deeply occupied with one object, destined to become 
 the main object of his life. The Oriental charms 
 of Julia O'Gallagher, with whom he was brought 
 into almost daily contact through his intimacy 
 with her father, had been too much for his peace 
 of mind ; but, with a reticence not too character- 
 istic of his class, he kept his feelings to himself, 
 and only proved them by a hundred acts of simple 
 devotion. He was neither unselfish nor high- 
 minded ; he lived to a great extent by professional 
 gambling ; he was familiar with every form of dis- 
 sipation ; but he was capable, when his affections 
 were strongly awakened, of great tenacity and 
 faithfulness. Every day strengthened the links of 
 the chain which the beautiful girl had woven 
 around him. Every day also drew him into closer 
 connection with the gay old heathen, her father. 
 
 The Major was floating on thin ice ; when once 
 the thaw came, down they must go into the deep 
 waters of wrecked reputations. At present the 
 fifty or sixty per cent, people were accommodating 
 enough, but the end was near at hand.
 
 2c6 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 Meanwhile, there were cosy dinners and card 
 parties at Montpellier Square and elsewhere, picnic 
 parties to Lewes and Goodwood, and all the rest 
 of it. 
 
 The gallant Major had called upon Mrs. Hollis 
 upon his arrival in town, and Julia had accom- 
 panied him. The Colonel's widow had been struck 
 with the girl's beauty and accomplishments, but 
 had instinctively felt that she was a dangerous 
 person to be near the Earl ; indeed, she was still 
 convinced that there was but one possible bride for 
 her darling, and that was the heiress of Deepdale. 
 
 But Julia 0' Gallagher was innocent of any 
 designs on the young Earl's heart. She was, con- 
 sidering her education and her surroundings, sin- 
 gularly pure and unworldly. Had she possessed 
 more subtlety and less sincerity, more head and 
 less heart ; had she been a little less honourable, 
 and a little more unscrupulous ; in fact, had she 
 been the least bit wicked, she might have been the 
 queen of the demi-mondaine world. 
 
 Consciously or unconsciously, she accepted the 
 single devotion of one man. Fitzherbert was not 
 a very brilliant person, or a very handsome man, 
 but he had plea sant ways, was loyal and devoted, 
 modest and manly. Of course, he was not clever ; 
 but then, as he remarked to Ealph, *' She was 
 clever enough for both." In fact, Julia regarded 
 him more as a great mastiff to run her errands, to 
 guard her here and there to the theatre or the 
 pictures while papa was playing poker at the club.
 
 CAPTAIN FITZ HERBERT. 207 
 
 The girl was lonely, she had no companions of her 
 own sex, while the men of her father's set were 
 ostentatious in their admiration of her beauty. 
 One fellow of high lineage actually dared to insult 
 her. Fitzherbert saw it and said nothing, but he 
 thought the more. Next night he picked a quarrel 
 "with my lord at the club, ostensibly about cards, 
 and thrashed the offender within an inch of his life. 
 
 The Major was present. If there was one thing 
 more than another the O'Gallagher delighted in it 
 was a fight, and the next morning at breakfast he 
 entertained Julia with a full, true, and particular 
 account of the combat. 
 
 " How did it begin, papa ? " inquired Julia, un- 
 suspiciously. 
 
 "It was something about a murder. My lord 
 said something rude to Fitz, and then somehow 
 the fight began. But you'll see all about it in the 
 evening papers." 
 
 Julia listened with heaving breast and flashing 
 eyes, but said nothing. 
 
 The Major had to break a horse, and he disap- 
 peared soon after breakfast. The Captain usually 
 looked in either before or after luncheon, but 
 to-day he did not come at all. Julia missed him 
 as she had never missed him before. The day was 
 long and dreary ; with a woman's instinct, Julia 
 had guessed the truth from the first. She was the 
 cause of the encounter, and poor Fitzherbert was 
 her champion. She began to love him from that 
 moment.
 
 2o8 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 At last came the evening papers, with a sensa- 
 tional account of the fracas of the night before. 
 
 She waited up till her father came home. She 
 looked down from the landing on to the hall below. 
 When she found the Major was alone she hurried 
 away with a sigh of disappointment, and crept up 
 to bed. But not to sleep ; there was little sleep 
 for her that night. 
 
 Another day passed in the same manner. The 
 Major did not dine at home, and she was alone all 
 the evening. She went to the piano, and began 
 to play some of Mendelssohn's " Songs without 
 Words." By-and-by she took down a volume of 
 Tennyson, and sought "Mariana in the Moated 
 Grange." AH the loneliness of her life, all the 
 misery of her position, came upon her as she read, 
 and she cried like a child. Fitzherbert's cause was 
 now as good as won. 
 
 The Earl and the Captain were due at dinner 
 next day. About one o'clock Ealph called, but he 
 was alone. 
 
 "I've called," said he, "to ask you to excuse 
 Ned and myself to-night. The Denes are up in 
 London. They are only here for a day or two, and 
 they are strangers in town. They've asked me to 
 dine with them." 
 
 "Does Captain Fitzherbert accompany you?" 
 asked Julia. 
 
 "No, not exactly," answered Ealph, with a 
 laugh. 
 
 " We have not seen him these three days,"
 
 CAPTAIN FITZHERBERT. 209 
 
 continued the girl. " There is nothing the matter, 
 I hope?" 
 
 " Nothing particular," laughed Ealph. " Only 
 he is not quite presentable." 
 
 ** I do not understand you." 
 
 " Well, you see he has a pair of black eyes, and 
 he doesn't care to be seen." 
 
 " Tell him to come here ; never mind his eyes," 
 said Julia, eagerly, 
 
 "At once?" 
 
 "Immediately! I must see him on particular 
 business." 
 
 When Ealph gave the message, Fitzherbert 
 jumped into the first passing hansom, and drove to 
 Montpellier Square. When he entered the drawing- 
 room Julia was at the piano playing the " Bridal 
 March " from Mendelssohn. At the sound of his 
 footstep she sprang up ; and, falling on his neck, 
 she kissed him. Then she burst out crying, and 
 he consoled her. 
 
 When the Major came in to dinner she took the 
 Captain by the hand and led him to her father. 
 
 " Your blessing, papa," she said ; ** we are going 
 to be married ! " 
 
 The Major started as if shot. 
 
 "Do you mean it?" he cried. "Sure you're 
 joking ! What are you going to live upon ? " 
 
 " On love, papa," answered Julia, smiling. 
 
 "Well, that's poor sustenance; but there! I 
 know you'll have your own way — so take her, Fitz.
 
 210 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 my boy, and take my blessing along with her. 
 But mind, there's to be no hurry about the mar- 
 riage ! You'll have to wait a bit." 
 
 "As long as you like," returned the Captain; 
 ** that is, any time in reason." 
 
 So it was settled, and from that day forth Fitz- 
 herbert, in spite of debts and duns, was the 
 happiest fellow in the world. His whole nature 
 seemed to change. lie cared no more for billiards 
 or for cards, and was never happy away from 
 Montpellier Square. Again and again he said to 
 himself that he would turn over a new leaf when 
 Julia became his wife. He dreamed of a cottage 
 in a wood, of rural felicity, of a bright fireside, of 
 loving little children. Many were the delicious 
 tete-a-tetes he had with Julia in those happy days 
 of their first engagement. 
 
 "My darling," he would say, "you've made a 
 new man of me. I wish — I wish I had known you 
 earlier ; it might have saved me from a deal of 
 misery. I know I'm not worthy of j^ou — no one 
 could be worthy of you— but, God willing, I'll do 
 
 my best." 
 
 He meant what he said, and had Fortune been 
 kinder to him, he might have efi'ected a complete 
 reformation. Nature had intended him for an 
 honest man ; Fortune, which so often mars the 
 handiwork of Nature, had done her best to blacken 
 his character, but could not altogether change his 
 disposition. He had shown that he could be 
 faithful, even culpably devoted, to an unworthy
 
 RACHEL ON THE WATCH. 21 1 
 
 friend. Time was to show to what heights of self- 
 Bacrifice even this poor fellow could attain, when 
 stimulated and strengthened by the one ennobling 
 passion of his otherwise wasted life. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 RACHEL ON THE WATCH. 
 
 The lines of our life drama, which are destined to 
 unite in the sequel, have been wandering far away 
 from Eachel Dene, who has been standing, as it 
 were, apart, a spectator of certain acts in which 
 she scarcely took a part. She had not been idle, 
 however, but had been working with all her might 
 for the deliverance of the man she loved. When 
 she found that all her efforts were in vain, that 
 beyond securing his reprieve from the capital 
 punishment she could do nothing, she felt as if her 
 heart was broken. A long and serious illness fol- 
 lowed; and when she emerged again from her 
 chamber she looked several years older, and full of 
 weariness of the world. To deepen her trouble, 
 she found that the stern heart of Jacob Dene was 
 firmly set against her lover. The proof of his 
 guilt had, indeed, been overwhelming, and the old 
 Quaker, as we know, had little or no mercy on 
 wrong-doers. 
 
 ** Thou must forget him," he said. *' He has
 
 212 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 sinned against God and man, and must take his 
 punishment. From this day forth, think no more 
 of him or his." 
 
 " But he is innocent," she pleaded. " I hioxo 
 he is innocent. I have known it from the first. 
 Let me go to him ? Let me write to him ? Let 
 me show him that one soul, at least, believes in 
 him, and prays for his deliverance ? " 
 
 This, however, was forbidden, and all the poor 
 girl could do was to share her grief with the old 
 couple at the cottage. From there she heard of 
 Jack from time to time, though there came loving 
 messages, to which, in spite of her grandfather's 
 warning, she returned tender answers. But as 
 time went on, and no hope came, Eachel drooped 
 more and more under the weight of her heavy 
 sorrow. 
 
 Since the night of the murder, Ealph Hollis 
 had not returned to Deepdale ; but he had heard 
 at intervals from the Denes, and knew all that 
 was going on, so that when Eachel appeared in 
 London he was not astonished to find her so 
 greatly changed. The sight of her face, which 
 seemed the more beautiful for its sorrow, revived 
 in the young man's heart all the fire of his old 
 passion. He was wise enough, however, to hide 
 the true nature of his feelings, and to offer her 
 only the most respectful sympathy. She found, 
 to her surprise, that he was quite prepared to 
 become her confidant, to talk to her for hours 
 together on the theme nearest to her heart, and
 
 RACHEL ON THE WATCH. 213 
 
 in her simplicity she trusted him, and was very 
 grateful. 
 
 Coming straight from Montpelher Square after 
 the interview described in our last chapter, he 
 drove to the hotel in South Kensington, where the 
 Denes were staying, and found Eachel alone in 
 the drawing-room. His heart leapt joyfully as 
 she came to him with outstretched hands. 
 
 "I'm so glad thou hast come early," she cried. 
 "Grandpapa is away in the City, and I am very 
 lonely." 
 
 The young man took her hands and pressed 
 them tenderly. They sat down side by side, and 
 there was a long silence. Glancing at Eachel's 
 face, he saw that her eyes were full of tears. 
 
 "You are fretting yourself to death," he said 
 gently. " Try to forget what has passed. Try to 
 be comforted." 
 
 "Nay, I do my best," she answered; "but I 
 feel now as if I could never be happy again — and 
 indeed I cannot till the truth is known, and lie is 
 cleared. Oh, Ealph ! it is so good of you to be 
 gentle with me in my afBiction. I shall never 
 forget that you have proved so true a friend." 
 
 "You know my heart, Eachel," he said, with a 
 sigh. "It is the same as ever; but a man must 
 accept the fortune of war, and I see now that I 
 had never any chance. You always preferred him 
 to mo, I Well, I don't blame you for that, though 
 it's hard, very hard ! All I ask you is — for my 
 sake, for all our sakes — to keep up a good heart."
 
 214 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 She rose from his side, and paced up aud down 
 the room. 
 
 "Can nothing be done?" she cried. "Oh, 
 Ealph ! I am sure thou wilt help him if thou 
 canst ! " 
 
 "Certainly," was the reply. "But, there ! it is 
 quite hopeless. He'll have to ' dree his weird,' as 
 they say in Scotland; and after all, you know, 
 prison life isn't so dreadful — the suffering is more 
 in the imagination than in the reality. Then, 
 again, what they call a * lifer ' doesn't mean exactly 
 imprisonment for life. If he keeps a good record, 
 a man often gets out at the end of fifteen years." 
 
 " Fifteen years .' But when he is innocent " 
 
 "I believe he is," said the young Earl, 
 emphatically. 
 
 "God bless thee for saying so!" cried Eachel, 
 looking at him with grateful eyes. " All are 
 against him save thyself and those who know him 
 and love him best." 
 
 Never in all his days had Ealph HoUis felt so 
 miserably mean, so full of remorse. At that 
 moment, indeed, he would have liked to perform 
 an act of heroism, and make a clean breast of 
 everything. But, no ! life was too sweet, and the 
 world too full of charm. He thought, too, of his 
 mother — the one being in the world for whom he 
 had any unselfish affection — and said to himself, 
 with characteristic self-deception, "For myself I 
 should not care so much, but for her sake I must 
 lieep silence to the end."
 
 RACHEL ON THE WATCH. 215 
 
 They dined together that day — Jacob and 
 Susannah Dene, Eachel and the young Earl. It 
 was a dismal enough affair ; but, thanks to 
 Eachel's society and sweet looks, Ealph enjoyed 
 himself immensely. Quitting the house at an 
 early hour, he went off to the club, where he met 
 some choice spirits, and played at cards for heavy 
 stakes. Flushed and feverish, he went at last to 
 his room to spend a sleepless night. 
 
 ''I'm a miserable cad," he said to himself; 
 " but, after all, is it my fault ? Had my uncle 
 died a few hours earlier I should have been 
 spared this life-long misery. God knows I never 
 intended to be a murderer — it was all an accident, 
 as I told Fitzherbert ; and though an innocent 
 man is suffering on my account, I can't face a 
 prison, and give myself uxd." 
 
 Then, with the innate selfishness of his nature, 
 he thought rapturously of Eachel — her beauty, 
 her tenderness, her confidence in him. There 
 was hope yet, if he played his cards carefully, that 
 she might forget the other, and begin to care for 
 him. 
 
 "Fve loved her all my life!" he cried. "If 
 that fellow had not come in the way, all would 
 
 have been different. And noio Why should 
 
 I waste time in self-reproaches ? Why should I 
 mar my good fortune by making myself miserable ? 
 It's the fortune of war ! Life's a lottery ; prizes 
 to some, blanks to others ; and the prise I want 
 is Eachel Dene."
 
 2i6 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 Selfish and vacillating himself, he entirely mis- 
 calculated the strength of the young girl's nature. 
 Once awake to the fact that she loved Jack 
 Heywood, Eachel never faltered for a moment in 
 her first faith ; and though with her own eyes she 
 had seen him brutalized with drink, and though 
 she knew the world thought him guilty of a 
 hideous crime, she held tenaciously to the belief 
 in his innocence. The old Quaker stubbornness 
 asserted itself in this gentle being. She thought 
 of the poor prisoner all day, and her prayers were 
 wafted to him every night. Fifteen years ! She 
 would wait fifty rather than turn her simple 
 thoughts to any other living man. 
 
 A few days later the young Earl had a long talk 
 with Jacob Dene. They met at Ralph's rooms by 
 appointment, unknown to Rachel, but the con- 
 versation was chiefly of her. The old Quaker 
 deplored what he called her infatuation for a man 
 who had, by his own act, placed himself beyond 
 the pale of human sympathy. 
 
 "Let it be a lesson to //tee," he added. **I 
 thought once that young Heywood was the steady 
 horse, and Ralph Hollis the unbroken colt; but 
 see to what a pass drink and the love of money 
 can bring a man. I hope, lad, thy new-found 
 fortune has not tm'ned thy head, and that it has 
 brought thee better manners and better com- 
 pany." 
 
 "I hope so," returned Ralph, with an obedient 
 smile. " You see, sir, I was a little spoiled by my
 
 RACHEL ON THE WATCH. 217 
 
 bringing up. It is bad for a young fellow to be 
 waiting for an old one's shoes." 
 
 " Eight ! As for worldly titles, they are all 
 vanity; but once thou art a peer, set a good 
 example to thy kind." 
 
 "I'll try, sir," answered Ealph. "But Eachel 
 — do you think she will ever get over this great 
 Borrow?" 
 
 " She is a girl, a child, and must get over it ; 
 it is sin, I hold, to have set her heart upon a 
 criminal." 
 
 " And, indeed, he was ever far beneath her ! " 
 
 The eyes of the two men met, and each knew 
 what was passing in the other's mind. Ealph 
 saw his opportunity, and availed himself of it — 
 nervously, awkwardly, but with a certain show of 
 manly candour. 
 
 ** Oh, sir, I need not play the hypocrite ! " he 
 cried. " I have loved Eachel all my life, and till 
 this man came between us, I thought that she 
 cared a little for me in return. Not for the world, 
 however, would I seem to her selfish and unfeeling. 
 All I wish you to know is that my heart is still 
 unchanged." 
 
 Jacob Dene nodded approvingly. He liked the 
 young man's modesty and gentleness of demeanour, 
 and, above all, he knew that he was a suitable match. 
 
 *'I have thy word," he said, "that thou hast 
 changed thy ways. What was this I heard of a 
 great prize-fight in France — a disgraceful affair? 
 They tell me thou wast present ? " 
 
 b
 
 3i8 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 "By the merest accident," stammered Ealph. 
 
 " More shame for thee ! Dost thou gamble still 
 on the turf ?" 
 
 "No, sir; I have given that up long ago. Re- 
 member, I was only a boy." 
 
 "Thou art a boy still," said Jacob. "What's 
 thy present life ?" 
 
 " A very dull one. I have cut most of my old 
 friends — I confess they were a bad set — and found 
 few new acquaintances. I live very quietly, as 
 you see." 
 
 " Well, good fortune has not spoiled thee — that 
 is in thy favour," returned the old Quaker. "I 
 will not deny that I once mistrusted thee; but 
 now, things are changed, and perchance — nay, I 
 promise nothing — perchance, I say, Eachel and 
 thee may come together. But not a word of this 
 to Eachel herself. She is of stubborn disposition, 
 and if she thought I approved of thee for her 
 husband, poor would be thy chance of gaining her 
 affection." 
 
 Thus it came to pass that Ealph became, with 
 her grandfather's secret approval, the close com- 
 panion of the young Quakeress. He had played 
 his cards very cleverly, and, posing as a sym- 
 pathetic friend, daily gained a firmer place in her 
 affection; indeed, he was now almost the only 
 person in the world to whom she could open her 
 heart unreservedly, and with the certainty of 
 finding due sympathy. Under these favourable 
 circumstances, all his fears, all his scruples, were
 
 RACHEL ON THE WATCH. 219 
 
 forgotten. He thought of nothing now hut the 
 hope of winning Eachel's love, and to secure this 
 he humoured, with diaboHc cunning, that other 
 love which had become the mainspring of her 
 maiden life. 
 
 So long as the Denes remained in town, he was 
 very careful in his social conduct. His only 
 intimate companion was Fitzherbert, w^hom he 
 instructed to keep as much as possible out of the 
 old Quaker's way. He avoided the gambling clubs, 
 went to no race-meetings, and was zealous in his 
 attendance at the House of Lords, even going 
 the length of making a short maiden speech on 
 a manufacturing question, which speech occupied 
 just two lines in the newspaper next day. Those 
 who knew him better looked on and wondered. 
 
 "Beauchamp has sown his wild oats," they 
 said, laughing, '* and is going in for respectability. 
 Who knows? some day he may become Prime 
 Minister!" 
 
 By the time that Eachel left for Deepdale, the 
 young Earl had succeeded in fully establishing 
 liimself in her esteem. The season was just over ; 
 everybody else of any importance was leaving 
 London, and Ealph began to think of going some- 
 where for a holiday. 
 
 ** I'd like to go down to Deepdale," he said to 
 his mother ; " but the place is too full of sad 
 associations. Fitzurse tells me of some capital 
 salmon-fishing in a river close to the mouth of the 
 St. Lawrence. I think I shall try Canada."
 
 220 RACHEL DENE* 
 
 CHAPTEE XXV. 
 
 FITZHEEBERT GETS INTO TROUBLE. 
 
 One winter's day, "when confined to the house by his 
 asthma, which was becoming chronic, 0' Gallagher 
 said to Fitzherbert, ** * Dum vivimus,' my boy, is 
 my motto. Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof. 
 As for the future, bad luck to the blackguard, I 
 haven't the honour of his acquaintance, so let him 
 look out for himself, as I had to do before him. 
 It's the present is the botheration. Julia has 
 taken charge of the cheque-book, and bowled me 
 out and at the bank. Where she gets this nig- 
 gardliness from God knows, for I don't ; not from 
 her mother or me. I never could keep my ex- 
 penses within bounds, because of the insufficiency 
 of my income. What can a man do when he's 
 born a gentleman ? Sure he must spend whether 
 he has it or no. The girl is good enough to see 
 that I have my wine, my meat, my tailor, my 
 stable-keeper, my butcher, and my baker ; but 
 where is the use of those without my horse in the 
 stable, my box at the play, a quiet rubber, or a 
 monkey or two on the last race? By Jove ! " he 
 added; " there she comes." 
 
 As Julia made her appearance, followed by 
 Balph HoUis, the 0' Gallagher continued. 
 
 "Ah, Ealph, my boy, here you are. And how's 
 that superb creature, your mother ? And the
 
 I'lTZHERBERT GETS INTO TROUBLE. 321 
 
 young Quakeress, too — how's she ? By my honour, 
 she's an angel ; she's better than an angel, for she 
 has no wings to By away with ! Ah ! when I see 
 a face like thaty my heart always goes out to it, 
 and I'm a boy again." 
 
 " Papa will still be talking. Lord Beau champ," 
 said Julia. " But you must excuse him, for he is 
 still the youngest member of the family." 
 
 " Faith," laughed the Major, " you may say 
 that, darling. Sure, as long as I'm a man, I hope 
 to be a boy." 
 
 "I've come to say good-bye," said the Earl. 
 " I'm going to take a run over to Canada and do 
 some salmon-fishing." 
 
 ** When do you start ? " asked the Major. 
 
 ** To-morrow." 
 
 " To-morrow is it ? Then good-bye and good 
 luck to you ! " cried the Major, 
 
 " Thanks ! Good-bye, Miss O'Gallagher ! " 
 
 ** Good-bye and hon voyage, Lord Beauchamp. 
 I hope you will have a pleasant time," said Julia ; 
 then she gave her hand to Ealph. 
 
 "Thanks!" returned his lordship. "Fitz, are 
 you coming my way ? " 
 
 "In one moment," replied Fitz. Then he whis- 
 pered to the Major, " I say, Major, about that five- 
 hundred-pound bill that's due on Wednesday ? " 
 
 The Major made a wry face. 
 
 " Try if you can't get Beauchamp to spring 
 something towards it, and come round to-morrow," 
 he whispered.
 
 222 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 " All right. Coming, Ealpli ! " And off went 
 the two young fellows together. 
 
 "Papa," said Julia, who had been regarding 
 this whispered conference with observant and 
 anxious eyes, " I wish you would not be always 
 leading Captain Fitzherbert into these monetary 
 difficulties." 
 
 " He has told you of them ? " cried O'Gallagher, 
 sharply. 
 
 *' He has told me nothing, papa ; but I'm neither 
 blind nor deaf." 
 
 " No, by Jove, nor dumb either ! " the Major 
 cried. ** Ah ! how can you, while rolling in wealth, 
 leave your poor old father to the mercy of those 
 rascally bill-discounters ? " 
 
 "It is because I do not wish to leave my father 
 to their mercy that I seek to restrain his ex- 
 travagance. Ah, papa ! you have already squan- 
 dered your own fortune in dissipation, and why 
 should you seek to squander mine ? " 
 
 The Major looked indignant. 
 
 "Squander yours!" he cried. "Let me tell 
 you, Julia, that what you call dissipation a gentle- 
 man calls doing his duty in that state of life in 
 which it has pleased Providence to place him. A 
 gentleman is a circulating medium, or nothing. 
 For Her Majesty herself is neither more nor le«3 
 than a circulating medium, and an O'Gallagher 
 can't go wrong in following so illustrious an 
 example ! " 
 
 " I think, papa," returned Julia, sadly, ** were
 
 FITZHERBERT GETS INTO TROUBLE. 223 
 
 I to follow my natural instincts I should be even 
 more thoughtless than you are, but my love for you 
 has taught me to learn prudence. But what is the 
 present difficulty, papa ? " 
 
 " Well, it's just that bit of a bill for five hundred 
 pounds that I got poor Fitz to accept for me, and 
 if I don't take it up, lie must." 
 
 " Oh, papa, how could you ? " cried the girl. 
 
 ** Well, my darling, needs must when the Derby 
 drives, and I came to grief over the favourite." 
 
 " When is the bill due ? " asked JuHa. 
 
 ** The day after to-morrow." 
 
 Without another word she hurried from the 
 room. As she went, the old Pagan smiled, and 
 murmured, complacently, " She'll do it, the darling, 
 she'll do it. I never met a w^oman yet who could 
 say no to an O'Gallagher." 
 
 Then he lit a cheroot, and before he had half 
 finished smoking it Julia returned with a cheque 
 for five hundred pounds. 
 
 " There, papa," she said lightly ; ''now promise 
 to be very good, and never do this any more." 
 
 " Never, by the honour of an O'Gallagher," 
 returned the Major. "But I think, my darling, 
 we ought to get out of this land of fogs, and go to 
 the south, the sunny south. What do you say to 
 the Riviera ? " 
 
 " Yes, papa, that will do. Anywhere but Monto 
 Carlo." 
 
 "Certainly not Monte Carlo, my Icvey; that 
 would be too much for me," said the Major. " It
 
 224 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 would recall my lost youth, and that angel, your 
 mother. It was there we spent our honeymoon; 
 and, faith ! that was not all we spent there." 
 
 " Make your own arrangement for the future, 
 papa ; but for to-night let me make mine. We will 
 dine tete-a-tete, and dine early." 
 
 " By all means. By the way, Julia, tell James 
 to put a bottle of Chateau Margaux down to the 
 fire." 
 
 " Very well, papa, and — oh, Fitz has a box 
 for the theatre, and if you will promise not to 
 play more than one rubber, you may go to the 
 club." 
 
 It was impossible to be long angry with the 
 Major, and Julia beamed upon him and kissed 
 him that evening as she and Fitzherbert deposited 
 him at the club, and they started on their way to 
 the Frivolity Theatre. It was a bad night's work, 
 however, for her and for her lover, too, when she 
 left the hardened old gambler at the club with 
 the five hundred pounds in his pocket. By the 
 time he had taken a dozen whiskies he went 
 for baccarat, with the result that he lost Julia's 
 five hundred pounds, and having disposed of all 
 the loose coins he had about him, he was com- 
 pelled to borrow half a crown from the porter 
 for a cab home. The morning brought a head- 
 ache, repentance, and remorse. Meanwhile that 
 bill would be due the next day. 
 
 Previous to his departure for America, Pialph 
 had given his friend a hundred pounds, which
 
 FITZHERBERT GETS INTO TROUBLE. 225 
 
 Fitzherbert bad tbat morning banded over to tbe 
 Major. 
 
 *' One bundred, bowever, is not five hundred," 
 said the Major. "I'm very seedy to-day, Fitz, 
 my boy," be continued. " Never mix your drinks. 
 It's not tbe quantity, but tbe mixture, tbat does it. 
 Now, suppose you run down to Lazarus, and give 
 bim a pony to stave bim off for a week till my 
 dividends are due." 
 
 Fitzberbert, wbo knew as much about dividends 
 as be did of discounts, called at Sackville Street, 
 and put off Lazarus for a week. 
 
 In tbe mean time, Julia made preparations for 
 tbe journey, greatly to Fitzberbert's discomfiture, 
 since it would be quite impossible for bim to ac- 
 company ber. Tbe Major got out as frequently 
 as bis cougb and tbe east wind would permit bim, 
 but, as tbe week came to an end, bis cougb grew 
 worse, and be was confined to tbe bouse. Tben 
 be wrote a note to Fitzberbert, begging bim to see 
 Lazarus again, and to get time. Tbe Captain saw 
 tbe Jew, wbo refused point blank. Wben Fitz- 
 berbert called to consult tbe Major on tbe subject, 
 be found bim in bed. 
 
 ** It's about tbat infernal bill, I suppose," said 
 tbe Major. " Well, I presume it's all rigbt ? " 
 
 "No; it's all wrong," answered tbe poor Captain, 
 gloomily. 
 
 "You don't say tbat?" 
 
 ** But I do, tbougb. Lazarus is furious — vows 
 he'll make us both bankrupt. Tben gome one baa 
 
 Q
 
 226 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 told him you're going abroad next week, and he 
 swears he'll issue a judge's warrant, and lay you 
 by the heels and throw you into prison. I'm afraid 
 he'll come here and make a fuss, and frighten 
 Julia." 
 
 " He mustn't do that, Fitz ! " cried the Major, 
 in alarm. " My daughter knows nothing of all 
 this ? " 
 
 " Not from me," returned Fitzherbert. ** And 
 now what's to be done ? For myself I don't care, 
 but I'm thinking of you and of /ler." 
 
 " I know you are, my boy. Well, then, just 
 run back and tell him to hold hard for twenty-four 
 hours, when I pledge you my honour I'll find either 
 money or paper. Look me up at twelve to-morrow; 
 and remember, Fitz, my boy, not a word of this to 
 JuHa ! " 
 
 " All right ! " 
 
 And off went the Captain once more to face the 
 obdurate bill-discounter. 
 
 When Fitzherbert returned the next day, the 
 Major was still confined to his bed, and his cough 
 was worse than ever. 
 
 **Hand over my writing-case, my boy," he 
 gasped. " In here's a bill at three months for 
 seven hundred pounds. It's accepted by Lord 
 Dunsinane. You needn't look surprised ; his lord- 
 ship has owed it me for months past. I put the 
 screw on him last night, and instead of sending 
 a cheque he sent this. I can't get out with this 
 infernal north-easter, so I must just trouble you
 
 FITZHERBERT GETS INTO TROUBLE. 227 
 
 to see Lazarus once more. There's to be five 
 hundred to take up the present bill ; a hundred for 
 interest, and the other hundred you can keep for 
 yourself! " 
 
 " I can do without it," said Fitzherbert. 
 
 "No, dear boy. Well, if you put it that way, 
 it's all in the family, so suppose we split it between 
 us ; you keep one half and I'll take the other ! " 
 
 When, an hour later, Fitzherbert explained his 
 business to Lazarus, the astute Israelite hummed 
 and hawed. 
 
 " I suppose it'll be all right ? " he muttered, 
 "The old Marquis is shaky, and when he dies, 
 young Dunsinaue will inherit. However, three 
 names are better than two, and as a mere matter 
 of form, you'd better back the bill." 
 
 Without hesitation, Fitzherbert endorsed the 
 new bill, retained the old one, and came out trium- 
 phant with a cheque for a hundred pounds, which ho 
 cashed on his way to Montpellier Square. When 
 the old Major heard the crackle of five new crisp 
 Bank of England notes for ten pounds each, the 
 effect was magical. 
 
 "Thank God that's paid!" said he, as he 
 jumped out of bed. " Fitz, I feel ever so much 
 better. Go to Julia ; say I'll come down to dinner. 
 Stay and dine with us, and we'll have a pleasant 
 evening ! " 
 
 That was the last pleasant evening poor Fitz- 
 herbert had for a long time, for two days later 
 the lady of his lifelong devotion and the great
 
 228 ' RACHEL DENE» 
 
 O'Gallaglier left town for San Eemo, and the dis' 
 consolate Captain was left alone in London. 
 
 Quite alone, for Ealph had already sailed. 
 Before the separation the two friends had several 
 long talks together, and touching once more on the 
 subject of the Deepdale murder, Fitzherbert assured 
 the real culprit of his intention to hold his tongue. 
 He would have liked to borrow a few hundreds 
 more, but he knew that Ealph himself had been 
 spending a great deal lately, and to press him just 
 then looked like levying blackmail. 
 
 " Never mind," he thought ; "if I get into a 
 very bad fix I can write to him, and he'll never 
 leave me out in the cold." 
 
 So the two parted, and the Captain remained 
 in the great city. A few weeks passed before 
 he began clearly to realize his situation. On 
 investigating his affairs he found they were worse 
 than even he himself had suspected. He was in 
 debt here, there, and everywhere, and saw no way 
 out of it. He could not dig, and to beg he was 
 ashamed. He was not ashamed, though, of run- 
 ning into debt with tradesfolk. 
 
 " A younger son is, as he observed, born to that 
 line of business; in fact, it is the only line of 
 business he is born to. He has to learn billiards, 
 that is, if he wishes to earn a living by that 
 pleasant pastime ; while, as to cards, well, card- 
 playing is an exact science, unless you can carry 
 the ace up your sleeve, and that a fellow is debarred 
 from in reference to vulgar prejudice. If I'd only
 
 FITZHERDERT GETS INTO TROUBLE. 229 
 
 the goodwill of a fashionable crossing now, Hke 
 the fellow in the story, I might turn an honest 
 penny ! " 
 
 Meanwhile the Major and his daughter had 
 reached the Kiviera, which was not a pleasant 
 place that winter. Wherever the two went the 
 winter still followed and preceded them. Hail, 
 rain, sleet, snow, ice before or behind them in 
 every direction. The Major's cough got worse and 
 worse, and he began to think he'd better have 
 stayed at home. As he sat one day muffled up to 
 the chin and shivering over the stove, or the 
 miserable handful of damp wood which did duty 
 for fire at the Hotel Splendide at Cannes, he 
 growled, *' Curse the weather ! Sure it's the marrow 
 in my bones that's congealed into ice ; and, as for 
 this infernal cough, it's my heart it's bringing up ! " 
 
 " I'm so sorry, papa," said Julia ; *' but you 
 would come, you know." 
 
 ''That's right — that's right; reproach your old 
 father who's sacrificed his life for you ! Confound 
 this cough ! Ring the bell, and call for the stoker ; 
 see if that old cat can make this conglomeration 
 of chips into a fire, and let me have a hot whiskey, 
 blazing hot." 
 
 When he had swallowed the beverage as hot as 
 he could put it down without scalding, he said, 
 "Ah, darling, you're the best of daughters, and 
 I'm an ungrateful old vagabond ! " 
 
 " No, no, papa ; I won't hear you talk like 
 that," said Julia.
 
 230 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 **But I must and I will ! " returned the Major. 
 "I ruined your mother, I've ruined myself, and I 
 was near ruining you; but thank God you had 
 the common sense to save yourself from me, and 
 now I can die easy, knowing that you are provided 
 for." 
 
 " Don't talk about dying, papa," cried Julia. 
 
 "And why shouldn't I?" returned the Major, 
 sadly. '' Death is the one debt that must be paid ; 
 we can't escape it, try as we will. You may renew 
 a bill, or stave off a tradesman, but when the Dun 
 of Death lays his hand upon our heads there is no 
 escape. It reminds me, Julia darling, that my 
 little bill is nearly due, and that at any hour of 
 the day or night I may expect to see that cold, 
 relentless face. I shouldn't mind the thought of 
 death, Julia, but that I can't bear to know that I 
 must leave you alone. Ah, it's a bad lot we are 
 — the O'Gallaghers ; a set of godless heathens 
 wandering about the face of the earth, instead 
 of being settled down as good Christians among 
 our own kith and kin, and doing good to 
 the poor devils born on our land. Help me 
 into bed, darling. Perhaps I shall be better to- 
 morrow." 
 
 On the morrow, however, he was worse, and the 
 following day he was worse still. Poor Julia loved 
 him — for he had been to her father and mother — 
 in fact, everything in the world. In his way he 
 loved ]icr ; he had petted and spoiled her, and he 
 would have ruined her with equal facility. Her
 
 FITZHERBERT GETS INTO TROUBLE. 231 
 
 origin and her dubious position and past always 
 kept her in doubtful society, and even then she 
 was alone. Women avoided her, and men regarded 
 her as an anomalous compound of the Eastern 
 odalisque and the European money spinner ; she 
 who, despite the hot blood of her Indian mother, 
 was chaste as snow. 
 
 It was the quiet, unostentatious, yet respectful 
 admiration of Fitzherbert which had made the 
 heart of this poor girl go out to him. She had 
 learned to love him just as she loved the old 
 gambler and roue who lay dying before her. 
 
 Yes, there could be no doubt about one thing. 
 The Major was near the end of his journey, but 
 he managed to struggle to San Eemo. 
 
 " Send for Fitz, darling," he said one afternoon; 
 " I'd like to see you man and wife. He's not a 
 brilliant match for you, but he loves the very 
 ground you walk on. Send for him at once — send 
 for him, for the love of God, Julia ; I must see 
 him before I die ! " 
 
 Suddenly he was seized with a wild paroxysm of 
 coughing. When he withdrew the handkerchief 
 from his mouth it was drenched with blood. 
 
 "It's all over, Julia," he gasped, "and I've no 
 time to make my peace with Heaven. Kiss me, 
 darling. I'm a bad lot, but I've always loved you. 
 Sure, I've had a fine time of it, and if I could but 
 see you settled I should die happy ; but what must 
 be must be. Kiss your wicked old father, and say 
 you forgive him."
 
 232 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 As Julia knelt sobbing by the bedside, lie con- 
 tinued. 
 
 " And there's a bill — a bill for seven hundred 
 pounds ; it's due to-day, or to-morrow, or next 
 week. Bad luck to the bills ! I always get into 
 a muddle about them. But mind, my life's in- 
 sured. Give Fitz seven hundred pounds directly 
 — directly, mind, for the bill — the bill " 
 
 "Yes, papa," sobbed Julia ; " I understand." 
 
 " And settle the rest on the eldest boy, if you 
 have one ; and call him Gerald, after his wicked 
 old grandfather. It's getting dark, Julia, or it is 
 the end that's coming. Hold on to me, dear; 
 bold on to me," he whispered, faintly ; and then 
 he fell asleep, holding her hand in his. 
 
 She sat there till the hand grew cold, the breath- 
 ing short ; then she knew that the stupor was that 
 of death. 
 
 The next morning Captain Fitzherbert went 
 down to his club, and found a foreign telegram to 
 this effect : — 
 
 " My poor father died last night. Come at 
 once. Julia. Hotel d'ltalie, San Eemo." 
 
 Poor Fitzherbert was overwhelmed at this in- 
 telligence. Making the best of his way to the 
 smoking-room, he dropped into a chair, and en- 
 deavoured to collect his thoughts. His first impulse 
 was to start for San Eemo at once : a little
 
 FITZHERBERT GETS INTO TROUBLE. 233 
 
 reflection showed him this would be impossible. 
 Without money, how was he to get a suit of 
 mourning, and how was he to get to San Kemo ? 
 Well, he still had his watch and chain and a 
 diamond ring, and a shirt stud worth a hundred 
 guineas. He would dispose of these. 
 
 Just as he had arrived at this conclusion, two 
 of his boon companions, Algernon Fitzurse and 
 Major Deuceace, lounged in. 
 
 ** What's up, Fitz ? " asked Algy. 
 
 " The Major— poor old Major O'Gallagher— has 
 just died." 
 
 " You don't say so ! " 
 
 "Yes; he died at San Remo last night." 
 
 " Poor old chap ! " muttered Algy ; "ho was 
 a good cribbage-player." 
 
 " Well, he's pegged his last hole, anyhow," inter- 
 posed the Major. "Hawkins, brandy and soda. 
 Have a cigar, Algy?" 
 
 At this moment Lord Dunsinanc burst into the 
 room, followed by Lazarus, the bill-discounter. 
 Both were pale with excitement. 
 
 " Oh, there you are ! " cried Lazarus, accosting 
 Fitzherbert. 
 
 " Of course, I am here," returned Fitzherbert, 
 coldly. " But may I ask what brings yon here ? " 
 
 " What brings me here ? — my money ! " shrieked 
 Lazarus. " I want my money, and, what's more, 
 I'll have it — do you hear, Mr. Fitzherbert ?— I'll 
 have it, if not out of your pocket, out of your 
 life ! "
 
 234 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 Fitzberbert sprang to his feet. 
 
 "This is neither the time nor the place for a 
 
 bill-discounting blackguard " he began, -u'hen 
 
 the Jew interrupted him. 
 
 " A bill-discounter is better than a thief! " 
 
 *' Not much," retorted Fitzherbert ; " it's a dis- 
 tinction without a difference. Anyhow, if you have 
 any claim against me, send it in, and we will 
 discuss it at the proper time and in the proper 
 place." 
 
 "This is the proper time and place," said the 
 Jew. 
 
 " No, it is not. This club is for gentlemen, not 
 for people of your stamp. Davison, show this 
 person the door ! " 
 
 "Davison, do nothing of the kind!" cried 
 Lord Dunsinane. "Mr. Lazarus is here as my 
 guest." 
 
 "Very good, my lord, very good," cried Fitz- 
 herbert. "I know whom to make responsible for 
 this outrage." 
 
 By this time an eager and excited crowd had 
 gathered around. Dunsinane drew himself up 
 indignantly. 
 
 "A gentleman does not fight with a forger and 
 a thief! " he said. 
 
 As the last word left his lips, Fitzherbert knocked 
 him down. 
 
 " Police, police ! " shrieked Lazarus. 
 
 In answer to the cry, two detectives in plain 
 clothes made their appearance.
 
 FITZHERBERT GETS INTO TROUBLE. 235 
 
 '* There's your man," continued Lazarus, point- 
 ing to Fitzherbert ; " take him away, and lock him 
 up." 
 
 " Hands off ! " cried Fitzherbert, fiercely. '' I'll 
 knock the head off any man who dares to touch 
 me!" 
 
 An ominous growl arose of " You shan't take 
 him ! " 
 
 " Come, gentlemen, it's a serious thing to in- 
 terrupt an officer in the discharge of his duty ! " 
 said one of the men. 
 
 "Duty be hanged!" cried Major Deuceace. 
 " You've no right to come here on your dirty 
 work. This club is as sacred as the House of 
 Commons." 
 
 "Don't know anything about that, sir," was 
 the reply; "we were brought here by Lord 
 Dunsinane." 
 
 " Cowardly hound ! " said Algy ; " that's because 
 of the thrashing Fitz once gave him." 
 
 " Nothing of the kind," retorted Dunsinane, now 
 livid with rage ; " it is because he has forged my 
 name ! " 
 
 " And he has robbed me of seven hundred 
 pounds! " continued Lazarus. "He brought me 
 a bill for seven hundred pounds, which he pre- 
 tended was O'Gallagher's. Here it is with his own 
 endorsement, and it bears the forged signature of 
 Lord Dunsinane ! " 
 
 A murmur went round the room, for the thing 
 looked very serious. Even Fitzurse and Deuceace,
 
 236 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 who were hand in glove with Fitzherbcrt, looked 
 anxiously at one another. 
 
 "A forgery, did you say ? " cried Fitzurse. 
 
 " Yes, a forgery ! " screamed the Jew. " Here's 
 his lordship to say so ! " 
 
 " Say so ? To swear it ! " cried Lord Dunsinane. 
 *' I'll do so in any court in Christendom ! " 
 
 Fitzherbert was stunned ; hut when his senses 
 cleared, he understood everything. The Major, 
 always reckless and unscrupulous, had got him 
 into this dreadful trouble, hoping, no doubt, before 
 the bill came mature, to take it up or square it in 
 some way. Death had intervened, and Fitz- 
 herbert had to pay the penalty. Even in the 
 moment of his dire extremity, he had only one 
 thought — to shield the woman he loved. The 
 O'Gallagher had paid his last account, and he was 
 her father. 
 
 By this time the sleek and swarthy and re- 
 spectable members of the club had strolled away, 
 leaving Fitzherbert to my lord, to Lazarus, and 
 the detectives. 
 
 Fitzurse and Deuceace were both notorious 
 black sheep ; their hands were against every man, 
 and every man's hand was against them ; but the 
 Captain was their comrade, and they elected to 
 stand by him. 
 
 " Algy," growled Deuceace, in a fierce whisper, 
 ** this is a plant between the Jew and Dunsinane. 
 I don't beheve Fitz is in it; let's see him 
 through."
 
 FITZHERBERT GETS INTO TROUBLE. 237 
 
 " If we can only do it ! " muttered Fitzurse. 
 
 "Well, I can spring half; will you spring the 
 otberhalf?" 
 
 " Yes ; if I have to pawn my last shirt ! " 
 
 " Then let us try if we can square Lazarus ! " 
 
 "All right! Go ahead ! " 
 
 "Here, Lazarus," said Algy; "come and have 
 a drink." 
 
 So while Fitzherbert sat perfectly stupefied, 
 under guard of the detectives, and Lord Dunsi- 
 nane strode to and fro in a fever of fury, Algy 
 and Fitzurse took Lazarus away, and talked to him 
 quietly. They then agreed to raise the seven 
 hundred pounds and costs, and the Jew seemed 
 disposed to meet their views. After the matter 
 had been argued for some time, he said, " Well, 
 gentlemen, I must consult my principal ; if he is 
 willing, I am, but I must tell you it is quite in his 
 lordship's hands. Half a minute, and I'll tell you 
 what he says." With that he approached Lord 
 Dunsinane, and repeated the proposal. 
 
 "Never! never!" growled the peer; "would 
 you have me compound a felony ? No, not 
 for the Bank of England ! — a thousand times 
 no ! " 
 
 "It's no use, gentlemen," said Lazarus, return- 
 ing to Algy and Fitzurse ; " we can't compound a 
 felony; it's an indictable offence." 
 
 " Take him av/ay, do you hear ? — take him 
 away ! " growled my lord. 
 
 Fitzurse and Algy went up to Fitzhcrbci*t.
 
 238 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 "We are coming with you, old man. Don't 
 believe a bit of it," said Fitzurse. 
 
 " Not a word ! " chimed in Deuceace. " Davison, 
 call a four-wheeler ! " 
 
 *'I'm ready!" said the Captain, pulling him- 
 self together. " I'll go quietly— only hands off, 
 that's all ! " 
 
 "Eight you are, sir!" returned the detective, 
 while one opened the door, and both followed the 
 Captain down the stairs. 
 
 "Lazarus," said Algy, "stay a moment while 
 you hear me speak to this fellow." 
 
 With that, he went up to Dunsinane. 
 
 "My lord," he said, "you're a liar and a cad! 
 In your heart of hearts you know that Fitzherbert 
 didn't do this; you know it was old O'Gallagher; 
 and you are putting this upon my friend because he 
 once gave you a thrashing. But if Fitz comes to 
 grief over this business, I'll thrash you within an 
 inch of your life, as sure as my name's Algernon 
 Fitzurse ! " 
 
 " And when Algy has done with 3^ou, you'll have 
 to settle with me ! *' said Deuceace ; and the two 
 men left the room together. 
 
 "I think, my lord," said Lazarus, "you'd better 
 have accepted their offer. What I do, I do in the 
 way of business, but you do it for pleasure. Every 
 man to his taste, but I'd rather not be in your 
 shoes." 
 
 " Pshaw I The law will protect me ! " cried the 
 peer.
 
 FITZIIERBERT GETS INTO TROUBLE. 239 
 
 " Yes, as far as forty shillings goes, but that's 
 not much to pay for a luxury. But there ! we had 
 better be off to Bow Street." 
 
 So to Bow Street they went, where the charge 
 was duly entered. 
 
 Upon being brought before the magistrate the 
 next day, Fitzherbert was committed to take his 
 trial on a charge of forgery and obtaining money 
 under false pretences. He was removed at once to 
 the Old Bailey. 
 
 Fitzurse and Deuceace stood manfully by him to 
 the last, procured the best legal advice, and paid 
 for it. Yet, despite all that could be said or done 
 on his behalf, the evidence was so conclusive, and 
 he himself bore such a shady character, that he 
 was convicted. 
 
 He was found guilty, and sentenced to fifteen 
 years' penal servitude. 
 
 He might have saved himself by accusing the 
 O'Gallagher, but he refused point blank to give any 
 explanation of how the dead man's name came 
 upon the bill. 
 
 When sentence was passed his head swam ; it 
 seemed as if the roof of the court was tumbling 
 down upon his head. When the warders carried 
 him out of the dock he had a semi-consciousness 
 of two pair of hands grasping him, of two choking 
 voices, those of Deuceace and Fitzurse, saying, 
 *' It's a cowardly shame ! God bless you, old man ! 
 We won't forget you ! "
 
 240 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVI. 
 
 THE TWO PRISONERS. 
 
 FiTZHERBERT had been set to pick oakum. He 
 might as well have been set to construe the Pro- 
 metheus Vinctus. He was not allowed to write 
 till he had accomplished his allotted task. He 
 never could accomplish it — he never did. 
 
 His poor soft, delicate fingers were torn to 
 pieces. The experienced gaol-birds around could 
 do in three hours what it took him three days to 
 attempt. He struck work in despair. He was 
 pulled up for insubordination, and got five days 
 on the crank and a remission of forty days. 
 
 When he had gone through this ordeal, he de- 
 manded an interview with the Governor, from 
 whom he requested permission to write again to 
 Earl Beauchamp and Julia O'Gallagher. The 
 great man inquired if they were relatives, and on 
 being informed that they were merely friends, he 
 refused permission point blank. It was in vain 
 that poor Fitzherbert pleaded ; remonstrance and 
 reproach were alike wasted. Had he possessed 
 money, means of communication with the outer 
 world would have been easy enough ; but he had 
 no money, nor had he any means of obtaining it. 
 The knowledge of his innocence did not make his 
 punishment the lighter to bear ; on the contrary, 
 it fell all the heavier.
 
 THE TWO PRISONERS. 241 
 
 At length, in the efflux of time, came the period 
 when the other prisoners were to be removed to 
 Portland. While they were being transferred from 
 the prison van to the railway carriage at Waterloo, 
 the crowd stared at them as if they were packs of 
 wild beasts. Up to this moment Fitzherbert had 
 retained some hope of seeing or hearing from 
 Julia, for the sake of whose good name he had 
 suffered himself to be branded as a felon. 
 
 His fellow-prisoners for the most part beguiled 
 the journey with song and jest, while he sat apart 
 in silence, till at length the prison peninsula rose 
 before him. Immediately on his arrival he had to 
 undergo the degrading routine of prison discipline. 
 He was stripped from head to foot, examined as 
 though he were some animal whose points were 
 to be approved before being put to action. Un- 
 fortunately, he commenced by kicking against this 
 revolting business. A quarrel ensued, which ended 
 in his being dragged before the Governor of Port- 
 land on the very first day of his arrival. Poor 
 fellow, he had not brought a clean slate from 
 Brixton ; so the interview was short, and the 
 result, " Ten days on the crank ; bread and water ; 
 four marks. Take him away ! " 
 
 This was not a good beginning. At the end of 
 his punishment Fitzherbert thought he would try 
 another trick, and became obedient. Surely Julia 
 and Ealph would hear of his unhappy condition 
 through the papers ; failing the papers, they might 
 come in contact with Fitzurse or Deuceace, in
 
 242 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 which case help would surely arrive sooner or 
 later to enable him to effect his escape. 
 
 When he had done his ten days, he was sent to 
 work in the West Quarry at stone-dressing. He 
 was enfeebled by his bread and water diet, and he 
 couldn't do much work. 
 
 "Look alive, No. 79," said the warder, peremp- 
 torily. 
 
 " I can't do much to-day, sir," replied the 
 convict; "I've been on bread and water for the 
 past ten days. Only let me get a little stronger, 
 and I'll do my best, I'll promise you." 
 
 " All right, my lad," replied the warder, good- 
 naturedly ; then he added, in a whisper, " Keep 
 your weather eye open, and in a day or two you'll 
 be able to slip into it like one o'clock. You can 
 bring yourself to anchor. Sit down a bit." 
 
 Fitzherbert availed himself of this permission, 
 and looked round to take stock of his fellow work- 
 men. One gang was engaged in removing stone 
 in huge masses ; another, in levelling a mound of 
 earth ; a third, in building it up again ; a fourth, 
 in dressing the famous Portland stone in lumps 
 about the size of a cocoa-nut ; a fifth, in loading 
 carts with these lumps ; a sixth, like beasts of 
 burthen, were hauling cartloads of stone up the 
 mountain side. 
 
 The j)risoners appeared to be of every station, 
 and almost of every nationality. Cheek by jowl 
 with criminals, such as burglars, coiners, pick- 
 pockets, and area-sneaks, were dynamitards and
 
 THE TWO PRISONERS. 243 
 
 Fenians, mixed up -with an occasional gentleman, 
 a fraudulent banker, a forger, a barrister, or even 
 a parson. 
 
 Misery makes strange bedfellows. Though some 
 of these men seemed conscious of their degrada- 
 tion, the bulk of them laughed and talked, whistled 
 and sang, despite the rule that such amusements 
 are strictly prohibited. The warders, who were all 
 fully armed, kept a sharp look-out on their flocks, 
 prepared to shoot any one of them down upon the 
 shghtest provocation; but beyond an occasional 
 " Hold your tongues ! " " Silence ! " or " I'll report 
 you ! " they made no effort to control. 
 
 One tall, slender-looking fellow, with fair hair, 
 aquiline nose, and clean-cut features, attracted 
 Fitzherbert's attention by the way in which he 
 toj^ed with his pickaxe ; indeed, he handled it as 
 gingerly as if it had been a croquet-mallet. For 
 fully five minutes he leant upon it in a position of 
 languid elegance ; then, transferring it to his left 
 hand, with his right he twisted the ends of an 
 imaginary moustache. This occupied another four 
 minutes or more ; then he laboriously lifted the 
 pick, examined both points, dropped it to earth, 
 and twisted the airy moustache again. At length 
 he appeared to be roused to activity by the sound 
 of approaching footsteps, inasmuch as he spat 
 upon his hands, uplifted the pick, and worked with 
 a will as the warder came in view. The moment, 
 however, that he passed out of sight, the gentleman 
 with the aquiline nose returned to his ruminations^
 
 244 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 and his companions to the process of ticMing the 
 earth with their pickaxes. 
 
 " Jem's thinking," said one of the convicts, 
 lifting his left thumb over his shoulder towards 
 the man with the aquiline nose. 
 
 ** No, he isn't," responded another, in an 
 educated hut cynical voice. " He'd scorn the 
 action ; he thinks he's thinking, which is quite a 
 different thing." 
 
 "I'll bet two to one," continued the first convict, 
 " he's guessing what's on for lunch at the Carlton 
 this minute." 
 
 "Done with you ! " laughingly drawled the man 
 with the aquiline nose. " I was actually thinking 
 how I could get a quid of tobacco, so hand it over ! " 
 
 "I will, as soon as I get it," laughed the 
 convict ; " but there's not been a bit of stuff in 
 the place this while past. Ginger has promised to 
 get in some to-morrow." 
 
 "I wish to-morrow'd hurry up, then, for I'm 
 dying for a quid ; it's the only thing worth living 
 for in this infernal place ! " 
 
 " Try the Johnny Eaw there," said convict 
 number one ; " perhaps he's got a bit of stuff 
 about him." 
 
 Lounging lazily up to Fitzherbert, the man 
 
 with the aquiline nose said, "I say, you fellow 
 
 Fitz, by Jove ! " he cried, dropping his voice. 
 
 " Pelham ! " exclaimed Fitzherbert. 
 
 " Hush ! Stow that ; I'm only Jim Swindon 
 here," whispered the other.
 
 THE TWO PRISONERS, 245 
 
 "I thought you were dead," continued Fitz- 
 herbert. 
 
 " No such luck, old man," was the reply. " I 
 wish I were." 
 
 "Your brother told me you were drowned." 
 
 " The man that is born to be hanged '11 never 
 be dxowned ! " chimed in the cynic. 
 
 This brilHant sally was greeted with a roar of 
 laughter, which, however, subsided into silence as 
 the warders were seen returning. Up went the 
 pickaxes, and at it went the elegant gentleman 
 with the rest. 
 
 Fitzherbert by this time had recognized in the 
 loquacious convicts two or three other old chums. 
 Besides the wretched Pelham (born a lord and 
 brother of a duke), there was the son of an Irish 
 judge, a nobleman who was said to have been 
 killed in the American war, a barrister, and the 
 vicar of an English parish. 
 
 "Well," thought Fitzherbert, "I am not alone 
 unfortunate. Poor Pelham! " 
 
 This unexpected advent of old acquaintances did 
 something to make the hateful place less endurable. 
 The weather was genial and bracing, and in a few 
 days he began to get better. Fortunately he was 
 dropped into Pelham's gang, nicknamed "the 
 Devil's Own " by the other convicts. 
 
 Some of the Devil's Own kept up by occult 
 means communication with the outer world. They 
 could command money ; money meant smuggling 
 letters in and out and obtaining tobacco, without
 
 246 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 ■v\'bich some of those lost wretches would have 
 gone mad. In this respect Fitzherbert found 
 himself as bad as any of them. He would en- 
 counter any danger for a few puffs of a good cigar. 
 
 Pelham told him he had got into trouble through 
 mistaking another man's signature for his own, 
 and had been convicted and sentenced by the name 
 of Swindon, under which he had concealed his 
 shame. His poor mother bewailed him as dead. 
 
 "Better so," said he, to Fitzherbert, "than that 
 she should dream of this ! " 
 
 One of the most trusty agents of the Devil's 
 Own for communicating with the outer world was 
 " Ginger." This worthy, whom our readers will 
 remember, appeared privileged to come and go 
 exactly when he pleased, and many a coin ho 
 brought in, and many a letter he took out. 
 
 While Fitzherbert was endeavouring to accom- 
 modate himself to circumstances as best he could, 
 Jack Heywood had become rebellious, desperate, 
 and even ferocious. He had refused point blank 
 to be stripped and searched, had thrashed one 
 brutal warder within an inch of his life, and dis- 
 abled another, for which offences he had various 
 periods of punishment in the cells set apart for 
 the purpose — bread and water, plank beds, and 
 sometimes no bed at all. It was of no avail — they 
 might break this man, but they could never bend 
 him. He was still as determined to effect his 
 escape as ever. Every one of these offences 
 against discipline entailed special punishment for
 
 THE TWO PRISONERS. 247 
 
 " Sulky Jack." His cruelest punishment, though, 
 was that he was refused permission to write home 
 or to receive a letter from home. At length Ginger 
 smuggled in writing materials — paper, envelopes, 
 and pen and ink — into Jack's cell — a perilous 
 proceeding for hoth, if found out. 
 
 " Here ye are, Yorkshire," said Ginger ; " I'll 
 get it posted somehow, if I get fourteen days' bread 
 and water for it ! " 
 
 But Jack was a marked man, and no warder 
 would risk his place without the certainty of a 
 heavy reward. Thus in vain Ginger represented 
 that there was money behind the job. 
 
 ** 'Tain't behind it. Ginger," was the reply, 
 " that I want it ; it's before, laddie. If Sulky Jack 
 can spring a flimsy, I'll chance it ! " 
 
 When Ginger reported progress that night, Jack 
 had recourse to that ten-pound note which he had 
 managed still to retain. 
 
 "Ginger," said he, ''j^ou might get this fellow 
 to give you five back ! " 
 
 That gentleman took the ten-pound note and 
 stuck to it, refusing to return any change. He 
 forwarded that letter, though, and in a few days' 
 time Jack got an answer, dated from the town of 
 Portland itself. 
 
 The letter was full of sweet and sacred words, 
 recitations of belief of his innocence. Jasper and 
 Joan Heywood were outside the prison walls; 
 money was plentiful, escape was possible ; now it 
 was a mere question of time.
 
 248 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 Despite everything, he now kept a good heart. 
 He was sure of money to bribe his gaolers — above 
 all, he was sure of the two faithful hearts who from 
 without kept watch and ward by day and night 
 upon his prison gates. 
 
 One day, as the Devil's Own were marching to 
 the West Quarry, they came full butt upon a tall, 
 stalwart fellow in charge of two warders. Apart 
 from the man's appearance, which was striking 
 enough, he was attii'ed in a costume which fixed, 
 and, indeed, riveted attention, for he was clad in 
 a parti-coloured dress, after the fashion of a 
 mediaeval jester, one-half of it being a bright 
 canary colour, the other half black. The man 
 wore irons, too, which clanked as he walked briskly 
 along. 
 
 In passing each other he and Fitzherbert en- 
 countered each other face to face, and eye to eye. 
 Each gave an imperceptible start. 
 
 '* Who's that ? " inquired Fitzherbert, of 
 Pelham. 
 
 " Sulky Jack, the Decpdale murderer ! " replied 
 Pelham, in a whisper. 
 
 " My God ! " exclaimed Fitzherbert. 
 
 Could it be retributive justice which had brought 
 him there face to face v>ith this innocent, long- 
 suffering man?
 
 ( 249 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 A ROMANTIC EPISODE. 
 
 Eeturning to England shortly after her father's 
 death, Julia O'Gallagher scarcely rested by day 
 or night in her inquiries for Fitzherbert, from 
 whom, to her astonishment, she had received no 
 communication whatever. She went first, how- 
 ever, on personal business to the family solicitor, 
 an old-fashioned and highly respectable person, 
 who represented an eminent conveyancing firm, 
 which had flourished in Lincoln's Inn Fields for 
 nearly a century. This old gentleman, the soul 
 of honour, was a hundred years behind the age. 
 He saw immediately to the business about the 
 insurance on the Major's life, and invested the 
 money to the best advantage, but he did not display 
 any remarkable alacrity in making the requisite 
 inquiries about Fitzherbert. Of course, Julia could 
 not explain the motives which influenced her so 
 strongly in the matter, nor did she permit herself to 
 display the anxiety she felt. She had no one but 
 her maid to confide in, and that young lady was 
 not a person to inspire confidence. It was Julia's 
 misfortune, therefore, to be still alone in the world. 
 
 The discovery of the truth came upon her like 
 a thunderclap. 
 
 The man she loved, the man who had filled her 
 with such simj)le devotion, was in a. convict
 
 2 so RACHEL DENE. 
 
 prison ; and further inquiry elicited the truth, 
 known only to herself, that he had been condemned 
 on account of a crime really committed by her own 
 father. Not a sign had he made, not a complaint 
 had he uttered, but had accepted his fate like a 
 hero, to spare her pain. 
 
 If she had loved him before, she adored him 
 now ; on her knees, night after night, she wept 
 and prayed for her lover. 
 
 Then she took a firm resolve. 
 
 " With God's help," she said, ** I will save him 
 and justify him." 
 
 Dassiter, the lawyer, had been unable to obtain 
 any information about Fitzherbert's place of con- 
 finement beyond the fact that he had been removed 
 to some distant convict prison; but fortunately 
 at or about this time Julia encountered a gentle- 
 man she had formerly known — Algernon Fitzurse, 
 recently translated to the peerage by the death of 
 his elder brother. 
 
 He was delighted to see her, and she was glad 
 to see him. 
 
 Fitzurse had sown his wild oats, and had become 
 impressed with the duties of his new position ; but 
 he requested permission to call next day, and when 
 he had done so some spontaneous expression of hig 
 regard for Fitzherbert caused the girl to open her 
 heart to him. He sympathized with her loyalty to 
 his friend, and with her lonely situation, so greatly, 
 that upon leaving her he went direct to his mother, 
 the Dowager Countess, a charming old lady. He
 
 A ROMANTIC EPISODE. 251 
 
 was the Dowager's only son, and even in his wildest 
 days he had been her darling, so had little difficulty 
 in persuading her to accompany him in his next 
 visit to Miss O'Gallagher. The two ladies took a 
 fancy to each other, and Julia found in the Countess 
 a valuable ally and friend. 
 
 Meantime Fitzurse, or Lord Delamere as we 
 must now call him, took the matter of Fitzherbert 
 in hand, and engaged a famous criminal lawyer to 
 make the requisite inquiries. After a few weeks 
 the lawyer reported that there was every reason to 
 believe that Fitzherbert was confined at Portland ; 
 so to Portland Delamere and Julia went the next 
 day. 
 
 It was the custom, whether in romance or realitj^', 
 to depict the Governor of a penal establishment as 
 a stereotyped monster in human shape ; but as a 
 matter of fact many of these persons are gentle- 
 men of the most humane feelings, whom inexora,ble 
 necessity has condemned to become professional 
 gaolers. In this case, however, public sentiment 
 was right. The Governor of Portland was a 
 jaundiced, ill-conditioned individual, who was pre- 
 judiced in his likes and dislikes. 
 
 For all that, he dearly loved a lord, and more 
 than that a handsome lady. 
 
 So having been duly advised over-night of Lord 
 Delamere's intended visit, he laid himself out to 
 receive his lordship with all honours due to his 
 lordship's station. Orders were given for every- 
 thing to be brightened up and made clean as a
 
 252 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 new pin. The '' Devil's Own " occupied the model 
 cells, which were to be thrown open for inspection. 
 Every cell was holystoned, every tin can or copper 
 utensil was brightened up like silver, or like 
 burnished gold, and the men, instead of being sent 
 out to the quarry, were ordered to stay in their 
 cells, an order received with universal dissatis- 
 faction, for not one amongst them cared about 
 being pruned up for inspection; possibly more 
 than one had good reason to desire to escape 
 recognition from the outer world. 
 
 Upon their arrival. Lord Delamere and Julia 
 were received by the Governor, who escorted them 
 in the first instance to the infirmary, where the 
 large dreary dormitory and spotless linen excited 
 their admiration, while the poor careworn prisoners 
 claimed their sympath}'. Julia looked in vain 
 from side to side for her lover, whom she feared to 
 find dead or dying with shame and grief. From 
 the infirmary they were led to the kitchen and the 
 bakehouse, where piles and piles of newly-baked 
 bread emitted a fresh and wholesome odour ; 
 thence they proceeded to the great kitchen, where 
 they found spread out on the table samples of the 
 prisoners' food for dinner. Here was a magnificent 
 leg of mutton, there a fine joint of beef, and there 
 a steaming hot copper full of potatoes like huge 
 balls of flour. 
 
 This was one side of the picture. If they had 
 only seen the other ! 
 
 Delamere and his companion tasted the mutton
 
 A ROMANTIC EPISODE. 253 
 
 and the bread, and found them both deh- 
 cious ; but the girl's heart was too full to admit 
 of her paying the requisite attention to each 
 detail. 
 
 At last they were conducted to the model cells 
 occupied by the Devil's Own ; the doors were 
 unlocked by the warders in attendance, and at the 
 word of command the men stepped out, faced in a 
 line, and saluted the Governor. 
 
 Julia looked into one or two of the cells ; then 
 the Governor led the way down the hall, inspecting 
 the prisoners as they passed. 
 
 As they got about half-way down, a choking 
 voice gasped "Julia!" The word had scarcely 
 left his lips when, with a wild cry of joy, she 
 leaped into the arms of her lost lover. 
 
 A scene of the wildest amazement followed. 
 " God bless my soul ! This is monstrous ! " ex- 
 claimed the Governor. " Monstrous ! Scandalous! 
 A breach of discipline ! Take the gang to the 
 quarry, and remove No. 79 to his cell ! " 
 
 " Silence, there ! " roared a gigantic warder. 
 "Fall in! Eight about face! Quick march!" 
 As the men rapidly defiled down the central 
 avenue, two warders advanced to Fitzherbert on 
 the one side and to Julia on the other, and despite 
 their prayers and entreaties that they might speak 
 to each other, if only for a few minutes, pulled 
 them asunder. 
 
 " Oh, my darling ! — my darling ! Thank God, 
 I've seen you I " cried Fitzherbert as they dragged
 
 254 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 bim to Lis cell. ''Don't fear for mo; I'm all 
 right now I " 
 
 Fortunately Julia had fainted, and was utterly 
 unconscious. It was in vain that Lord Delamere 
 appealed to the Governor, who was furious with 
 rage. Had his lordship approached him in a 
 different manner — had he requested an interview 
 for Julia with the prisoner, the chances are that 
 the Governor might have been induced to yield 
 assent ; but he was under the impression that 
 advantage had been taken of him, and he would 
 listen to nothing. Indeed, he cut short the inter- 
 view by exclaiming, as he left the hall, " Show 
 this lady and gentleman out ! " 
 
 Two warders bore Julia to the carriage, which v.'as 
 waiting at the prison gates ; but Delamere, not to 
 be daunted, went on to the door of his friend's cell. 
 
 *'Fitz!" said he; "Julia's all right! She's 
 only fainted ! I'll take care of her." 
 
 " God bless her ! " gasped Fitzherbert. 
 
 ''And, Fitz, I've kept my word, and given that 
 rascal Dunsinane a thrashing ! " 
 
 Here a hand was laid upon his arm. " I must 
 trouble your lordship to follow the lady," said the 
 principal warder. 
 
 " One moment, my good fellow ; I want just a 
 word with my friend." 
 
 The warder glanced round, and saw that the 
 Governor had disappeared. 
 
 "Prisoners are forbidden to talk; it's against 
 the regulations."
 
 A ROMANTIC EPISODE. 255 
 
 " Hang the regulations ! Fitz ! " 
 
 " Here ! " answered Fitzherbcrt from his cell. 
 
 " Keep up your heart, old man ; we know where 
 you are, and will soon have you out." 
 
 " God bless you, Algy ! " 
 
 As Delamere walked down the corridor, he 
 looked round to see if he was unobserved, and 
 took the opportunity to slip a ten-pound note into 
 the warder's hand. 
 
 **I shall be staying at the Bed Lion for 
 the next week," he whispered; "try to sec me 
 there." 
 
 " It's as much as my place is worth ! " 
 
 " I'll make it worth much more. Mind, I shall 
 expect to see you." 
 
 "All right, my lord." 
 
 By the time Delamere returned to the carriage, 
 JuHa had recovered. She took his hand, and 
 grasped it cordially. 
 
 "Now that I know where he is, my mind is 
 ^asy. I will not rest night or day till he is free." 
 
 The news of the scene of the morning spread 
 like wildfire through the prison, and added to the 
 growing dissatisfaction amongst the prisoners. Ifc 
 is true it was a trifle compared with what had 
 gone before, but it was a romantic and sensational 
 trifle, and it was in a thousand mouths that night. 
 The Governor was universally detested, and no 
 wonder. Even to his own officers he was insolent 
 and overbearing. Many of the important officials 
 were superior men, who, although they were 

 
 256 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 compelled to yield obedience to his orders, did so 
 most unwillingly. 
 
 In one word, the prisoners were in a state of 
 semi-mutiny, which was only kept down by the 
 most vigorous means. The separate cells were 
 crowded ; indeed, scores of men were reported and 
 brutally punished by the director at the instigation 
 of the Governor. 
 
 This same director was a gentleman who went 
 in for flogging as a panacea for insubordination. 
 Men were frequently strapped up to the triangles, 
 and some were maimed for life. One man, it is a 
 matter of history, actually died from the infliction. 
 
 How Jack Heywood had escaped this punish- 
 ment is to this day a mystery ; but now, after he 
 was assured that the means of escape were at 
 hand, he became less refractory ; he did whatever 
 work was allotted him with assiduity, and without 
 grumbling. Consolation had come to his bruised 
 heart in various ways. First he had caught in 
 the quarry a beautiful little white mouse, and had 
 trained it to come and go at his call, and to sleep 
 in his bosom. Secondly, he had learnt that 
 Eachel had sent him loving messages, and that 
 she still remained Eachel Dene ! Thirdly, Joan 
 Heywood had written, begging him that every 
 morning at seven (for the winter had now set in), 
 and every night at the same time, he would say 
 the Lord's Prayer, and at the same hour day and 
 night she would say the same prayer, with a little 
 one thrown in for his deliverance. This simple
 
 A ROMANTIC EPISODE. 257 
 
 act of piety soothed, softened, and consoled him, 
 and gave him courage and strength to look forward 
 to the hour of his vindication. 
 
 Christmas was now approaching. There would 
 be some merriment going on even amongst the 
 stern officials ; and if so, that was the golden 
 opportunity to be utilized. 
 
 The warder who carried his letters to and fro 
 entered into negotiations with the Heywoods ; the 
 chief warder followed suit with Lord Delamere. 
 These two worthies put their heads together, 
 squared the porter at the portcullis, and agreed, 
 in consideration of a large sum of money, to 
 release the two prisoners. Finally, it was arranged 
 that on Christmas Day a boat should be ready on 
 the shore, which would take them to a sailing 
 vessel which lay in the offing. Once aboard, they 
 would be safe. This last was Delamere's plan. 
 The vessel was chartered by him, and he was 
 quite willing to act in concert with the other 
 prisoner. 
 
 As Christmas came nearer, the excitement and 
 anxiety of the prisoners increased. The faithful 
 Ginger was the go-between, who kept them both 
 posted up as to the progress of affairs. 
 
 Christmas Day dawned ominously, for the sky 
 was overcast, and it seemed as if it would turn to 
 snow. Providentially this passed away, and the 
 sun broke forth bright and glorious. There was 
 no work that day, but church in the morning, and 
 some attempt at a choral service. With husky
 
 258 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 throats the assembled congregation sang, "For 
 unto us a Child is born, for unto us a Son is given, 
 and the punishment shall be upon his shoulders ! '•' 
 
 After church there was an hour's exercise in the 
 open at the West Quarry before dinner. The men 
 took open order, and wandered to and fro at their 
 own sweet wills. Clouds of thick mist floated 
 everywhere, now veiling and again disclosing the 
 dreary prospect of land and sea. A wind, 
 gradually rising, came from ^the north-west. The 
 air was bitterly cold, and the prisoners had much 
 ado to keep themselves warm. They laughed and 
 shouted, whistled and sang, and romped boisterously 
 together, while the armed warders looked on phleg- 
 matically, their hearts a little softened, perhaps, 
 because it was Christmas Day. 
 
 While this merriment was going on, Fitzherbert 
 leaped to the summit of the crags, and took a look 
 round. In his youth he had been on garrison 
 duty at Gibraltar. How the scene recalled his 
 old station ! He thought, for the moment, he was 
 at Gibraltar again ; and he saw that the chances 
 of escape would have been ten to one in favour of 
 the fortress in the Mediterranean. 
 
 The prison itself stood upon the summit of a 
 lofty hill. The rocky peninsula, wrongly called an 
 island, was surrounded in part, to the right and 
 the left, by the sea, in the rear by the military 
 district of the Verne, beyond which lay a bare and 
 thickly misted district of swamp and marshes. To 
 the right and left the prison fortress was guarded
 
 A /ROMANTIC EPISODE. 259 
 
 by the naval harbour forta. Except by strategy or 
 treachery, escape was impossible. But in the 
 oiling towards the south lay a sailing vessel, with 
 bunting flying at the fore. The word had been 
 passed, and Fitzherbert knew the word was Lord 
 Delamere's, and that once aboard, he would be 
 free. 
 
 At this moment the signal was given to fall in. 
 With empty stomachs and aching hearts— for even 
 the most lost wretch there thought of other Christ- 
 mases, of home and friends, of father and mother, 
 sisters and brothers, sweetheart, or wife and child 
 — they marched slowly back to the prison. On 
 their return they stopped in the square for inspec- 
 tion before being dismissed for dinner. 
 
 The Governor was about to give them their 
 conge, when, as ill luck would have it, he caught 
 sight of Ginger, disguised in a clean face, attempt- 
 ing to smuggle a letter into the hands of Fitz- 
 herbert ; a letter, in fact, containing the formal 
 plan of action for the escape. 
 
 "Halt, there! Fall in. No. 79 company!" 
 roared the martinet. 
 
 The word of command was obeyed; but before 
 the men could form in file, the letter had dis- 
 appeared as if by magic. In point of fact, Ginger 
 had rolled it up, and swallowed it like a pill. 
 
 " Hand over the letter ! " shouted the Governor. 
 
 " I have no letter, sir ! " replied Fitzherbert. 
 
 '• Then you, sir ! " he roared to Ginger. 
 
 "Me, sir?" said Ginger, innocently. 
 
 M
 
 26o RACHEL DENE, 
 
 " Yes, you, sir ! " 
 
 " Never had no letter in my life — can't read, 
 sir ! " returned Ginger, smiling. 
 
 " Don't humbug me ! Some one has it in his 
 possession, for I saw it — I saw it with my own 
 eyes ! Hand it over ! " 
 
 A dead, ominous silence was his only answer. 
 
 " Very well ! Deputy-director, march gang 
 No. 79 round to the bath-room ; strip, and let 
 every man be searched from head to foot ; then 
 bring me the letter ! " And so saying, he retired. 
 
 When the men heard the deputy-director give 
 the command, " Right about face ! Quick march ! " 
 they instantly obeyed ; but when they reached the 
 bath-room, and were ordered to strip, they paused. 
 
 ** Strip, do you hear ? Strip ! " cried the chief 
 warder. 
 
 They looked at each other ; then they looked at 
 him with a stony glare ; but no man moved hand 
 or foot — no man spoke. There was a dead 
 silence. 
 
 Then the deputy held a whispered colloc[uy with 
 one of his men, with the result that the latter 
 hastily quitted the bath-room. 
 
 The men still remained at " attention," and 
 might have been so many statues. 
 
 Four minutes later the Governor returned in 
 person. 
 
 " What's this I hear ? Eefuse obedience to my 
 orders ! Strip ! — do you hear ? — strip ! Very well 
 — very well ! I shall know what to do to-morrow.
 
 A ROMANTIC EPISODE. 261 
 
 Deputy-director, march these men back to their 
 cells." 
 
 Again the word of command was given. Again 
 the men obeyed, and were marched back to their 
 ward and locked up. 
 
 Their implacable tyrant followed, growled some 
 order to one of the warders, and paced up and 
 down outside the cells. 
 
 Presently the dinner-bell was heard. Tramp, 
 tramp, came the warders, passing by, carrying 
 steaming rations of roast beef and plum-pudding 
 to the prisoners in the other wards. 
 
 When the last footfall had died away, and the 
 delicious odours had permeated every cell of the 
 Devil's Own, the Governor said in a hard voice, 
 ** Nov/, men, will you j)roduce that letter ? " 
 
 Silence was still his only answer. 
 
 " Very well, then ! Officer, serve out to these 
 men rations of bread and water for their Christmas 
 dinner. Perhaps that may bring them to their 
 senses." 
 
 This barbarous order broke the silence, and, as 
 the Governor passed down the avenue, a howl 
 burst on either side as if it had risen from opposite 
 cages of wild beasts. The warders in charge vainly 
 tried to obtain silence ; they were overpowered by 
 a torrent of execrations. 
 
 At last they locked the cells, and returned to 
 their Christmas dinners. Then Ginger appeared 
 upon the scene. How it was he was not locked up 
 no one could understand, but there was collusion
 
 262 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 somewhere. He bad obtained — stolen, most likely 
 — from the kitchen one or two grills of beef and 
 pudding, which he conveyed to Jack and Fitz- 
 herbert, and one or two other favourite persons. 
 He had also got a quantity of tobacco and methy- 
 lated spirit ; one or the other, sometimes both, 
 were thrust under the door of every cell. At first 
 the men were soothed by the unwonted stimulant, 
 and, in nearly every case, they sank into a stupid 
 torpor of sleep. 
 
 Night fell soon. When the gas was lighted in 
 the corridor, empty and hungry stomachs began 
 to assert themselves. By-and-by came strains of 
 distant music, and sounds of laughter from the 
 Governor's quarters, from the officers' quarters, 
 from the warders' quarters. Evidently these gentle- 
 men are keeping Christmas. 
 
 Pleasant this for hungry and empty men ! 
 
 It wanted some four hours for the time fixed for 
 the escape. Jack Heywood and Fitzherbert were 
 in a fever. Still more music— more laughter from 
 within and without. The prisoners became angry, 
 then they became furious. 
 
 Presently a merry ballad is heard from the 
 Governor's quarters. In reply, a ruffian, with a 
 stentorian voice, roars out a ribald song, and 
 every man from every cell roars forth the chorus. 
 The sound is taken up in the next ward, and the 
 next, and the next, till it arises to one infernal 
 roar, which rings through every ward. 
 
 The man on guard summoned the principal
 
 A ROMANTIC EPISODE. 263 
 
 night warder, who in his turn summoned his men. 
 Cell after cell was opened ; innocent or guilty were 
 dragged out and flung, neck and crop, into the 
 punishment cells. Instead of allaying the blood- 
 fever, this brutality made it worse. Half-drunken 
 officers were summoned from the song and dance, 
 from the wassail bowl and the yule log. Cells 
 were unlocked, refractory men — not without 
 desperate hand struggles — were beaten into sense- 
 lessness, and flung, head foremost, into punish- 
 ment cells, while the torrent of groans, and 
 shrieks, and shouts of " Murder ! " made night 
 hideous. Amidst this foretaste of Pandemonium, 
 the Governor made his appearance in evening 
 dress. 
 
 In vain he tried to make himself heard above 
 the din. 
 
 At last, during a momentary pause, he roared 
 out, " A mutiny ! " 
 
 Then he wheeled round, and telephoned to the 
 town for soldiers. 
 
 Meanwhile, the rebels remained rebellious. More 
 cells were thrown open, more men were dragged 
 out and punished. It was difficult to say which 
 was the maddest, the prisoners or the gaolers. 
 
 Suddenly a stentorian voice shouted out from 
 the main corridor, " Burn the d — d place down — 
 burn it ! We can die but once, any how ! " 
 
 A thousand voices responded in a hoarse chorus, 
 ** Tear down the gas — burn the prison ! " 
 
 The frantic prisoners were in the act of carrying
 
 264 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 out this threat, the confusion was worse con- 
 founded, the tumult was at its height, when the 
 tramp of soldiers were heard in the distance. It 
 came nearer and nearer. A cry of " Halt ! " was 
 heard ; the tramp ceased. Then, locks, holts, and 
 hars were heard to fly asunder, and again the word 
 of command was given. 
 
 " Quick march ! This way ! " 
 
 Tramp, tramp again, the soldiers filed in the hall 
 at the double ; and side by side with the Captain, 
 walked the Governor. 
 
 " Halt ! Attention ! Fix bayonets ! " 
 
 At this instant, and at the same moment, the 
 cells of Jack Heywood and Fitzherbert were thrown 
 rapidly open. They were in the rear of the sol* 
 diers and unnoticed. 
 
 A friendly voice whispered, " Coast clear ! Now's 
 your time. Cut away ! " 
 
 No further incentive is needed to speed their 
 fleeting feet. They now carry their lives in their 
 hands, and are liable to be shot down like dogs. 
 As they reach the outer gate, the porter, who has 
 been squared, occupies himself in leisurely lower- 
 ing the portcullis; but an assistant, called in at 
 the last moment, catches sight of the convicts, 
 rings the alarm bell, and shrieks out, " Prisoners 
 escaping through the portcullis ! " 
 
 The signal is responded to, and a non-com- 
 missioned officer and half a dozen soldiers come 
 dashing up. The portcullis had just dropped to 
 the ground, but although it interposed for the
 
 A ROMANTIC EPISODE. 265 
 
 moment a barrier between the pursued and the 
 pursuers, unfortunately it interposed no barrier 
 to the pursuers' rifles. The moon, too, was at its 
 full, and lighted up every movement of the fugi- 
 tives, who were half-way down the zig-zag path, 
 below which the boat was concealed. 
 
 "Present! Fire!" 
 
 The order is instantly obeyed, and Fitzherbert 
 fell wounded to the ground. But, strong as 
 Hercules, Jack Heywood stooped for a moment, 
 lifted his lifeless comrade upon his shoulder, and 
 again took to his heels down the precipitous side 
 of the cliff. 
 
 By this time the soldiers came rushing down the 
 path. They gain the brink of the precipice just as 
 Jack has reached the boat, in which four men are 
 lying to their oars. Jack threw the body of Fitz 
 aboard, leapt in himself, and as he did so a volley 
 of musketry came from the precipice. The bullets 
 whisked harmlessly over his head. 
 
 The next moment a thick black cloud obscured 
 the moon, darkness fell upon the scene, and under 
 •its cover they were puUing safely down the Channel 
 towards the open sea.
 
 :266 RACHEL DENE, 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 IN BRITTANY. 
 
 The prime mover in this desperate attempt to 
 interfere with legal justice was Algernon, Lord 
 Delamere, and he was aided and abetted by that 
 amiable blackleg, Major Deuceace. Algernon, we 
 may mention, Avas second cousin to the famous 
 Ned Barnaby, of the Guards, whose escapades in 
 and out of the battlefield were the talk of Europe ; 
 and he, like his relation, carried into modern 
 affairs the adventurous spirit of the Middle Ages. 
 Apart from his affection for Fitzherbert, he looked 
 upon the whole affair as a "lark ; " but when the 
 Captain, bleeding and unconscious, was brought 
 on board the little cruiser, Delamere, who was 
 waiting on the deck, saw that it was no laughing 
 matter. 
 
 No sooner were the men on board than the 
 vessel stood out to sea. Fitzherbert was carried 
 below, and his wounds dressed by Deuceace, who 
 was a bit of a surgeon. When the poor fellow 
 opened his eyes he saw a dear and familiar face 
 bending over him. 
 
 " Julia, is it you ? " he murmured, gratefully. 
 "Where am I? What has happened? Ah! I 
 remember ! " and he again became unconscious. 
 
 Julia turned to Deuceace, who stood quietly 
 looking on.
 
 IN BRITTANY, 267 
 
 "Will he recover, sir? Are his wounds dan- 
 gerous ? " 
 
 " They've peppered him," returned the Major ; 
 "but I've stopped the bleeding, and I think there's 
 a chance yet. The cowards ! To shoot him in the 
 back, like a dog ! " 
 
 Sobbing wildly, the girl knelt by her lover, and 
 passionately kissed his hand. 
 
 " You'd better not disturb him," said Deuceace, 
 gently. " I think he's sleeping. Poor Fitz ! I 
 wish there was a proper sawbones on board, but 
 I've done my best." 
 
 "Let me stay with him," pleaded Julia. "I 
 will be very quiet — only do not drive me away ! " 
 
 Deuceace could do no more ; so he left her to 
 her sorrow, and went on deck, where he found 
 Lord Delamere conversing with the other convict. 
 Jack Heywood. The vessel was by this time right 
 out at sea, and heading westward through cloud 
 and rain. 
 
 "What's to be done now?" said Delamere, as 
 his friend came up. " A pretty mess we appear to 
 have made of it ! By this time the escape will be 
 telegraphed to every station, and we shall have her 
 Majesty's cruisers running the seas in pursuit." 
 
 " Penal servitude for every one of us, I suppose ! " 
 cried the Major, lighting a cheroot, and looking 
 Jack from head to foot. " I'm afraid, too, poor 
 Fitz is booked ! " 
 
 "I hope not," returned Delamere. Then, lead- 
 ing Deuceace aside, he whispered, " That fellow is
 
 268 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 named Heywood, who was convicted for a murder 
 done in Yorkshire. I've told him that his friends 
 were in the job with us, and planked down their 
 money to help us ; but, upon my life, it's an ugly 
 business for all concerned ! " 
 
 Here the captain of the vessel, a squat, thickset 
 man of the Dirk Hatteraick type, came up and 
 joined them. 
 
 "Bad look-out, this!" he said. " Which way 
 are we to steer ? As sure as Davy Jones, the 
 cruisers will be after us ! " 
 
 " You knew that before you undertook the job," 
 cried Delamere. "We're all in the same boat; 
 now, old man, what's to be done ? " 
 
 " We might run along there, and put these 
 lubbers out somewhere in Devon. I know every 
 creek and anchorage there," said the sailor. 
 
 " No good," returned his lordship. " The coast- 
 guards will be watching everywhere. No, turn 
 about, and steer for the coast of Brittany. The 
 wind's veering round, and we can run." 
 
 The order was obeyed, sullenly enough, for 
 though the men were to receive for the affair 
 enough money to make them independent of the 
 sea for life, they had only just begun to realize the 
 danger of the whole proceeding. Delamere and 
 Deuceace stood smoking and talking together, 
 when Jack Heywood again approached and saluted 
 them. 
 
 "You said, gentlemen, that friends of mine 
 helped you. Where are they now ? "
 
 IN BRITTANY. 269 
 
 " In the town of Weymouth," returned Dela- 
 mere. " An old man and woman. They did not 
 tell me, by the way, who you were." 
 
 " My name is Heywood," said Jack, drawing 
 himself up, " and I was unjustly convicted of 
 murder ! " 
 
 " So I've just heard," answered my lord, dryly. 
 
 " I see you don't believe me," continued Jack ; 
 "but, as God is my Judge, I'm an innocent man. 
 'Twas the knowledge o' that made me mad some- 
 times yonder i' prison. But I thank you with all 
 my heart for what you've done, though what's to 
 become of me now I don't know." 
 
 And he turned aside, to hide the tears that 
 were streaming down his face. 
 
 " Poor devil! " muttered Delamere. " Don't look 
 like a murderer, either ! But, for that matter," 
 he added, with a grin, " we're all convicts now. I 
 say, Deuceace, suppose we hoist the black flag, 
 and take to piracy. We shall never be able to 
 return to civilized life again ! " 
 
 The night passed, and Fitzherbert still sur- 
 vived, though more or less unconscious of his con- 
 dition. Fortunately, though there was a strong 
 north-westerly wind, the sea was comparatively 
 smooth, and the little vessel sailed gallantly on to 
 the coast of France. The sailors kept a sharp 
 look-out, but saw only a few sailing ships and 
 fishing-boats. Early the next morning, however, 
 they sighted a large English vessel, which they 
 recognized as a man-of-war. She passed within
 
 270 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 a couple of miles of them, with the English colours 
 flying, and, for the moment, every man's heart 
 was in his mouth, but she disappeared presently, 
 to their infinite relief. 
 
 Not until the second morning did they sight the 
 Breton coast. Creeping close in the morning grey, 
 they found themselves in the neighbourhood of a 
 small fishing village at the mouth of a river. The 
 shallows thereabouts were very dangerous, and 
 they had constantly to take soundings. 
 
 " Know where you are ? " asked Delamere of 
 the captain. 
 
 "All right, my lord," was the reply. "Been 
 here before with a cargo." 
 
 "We must get the wounded man ashore as soon 
 as possible," continued Delamere. " I think we're 
 safe here." 
 
 It was decided, however, that both Fitzherbert 
 and Heywood should exchange their prison dresses 
 for a couple of rough suits purchased of the sailors. 
 As the vessel ran in towards the mouth of the 
 river, the change was effected — not without some 
 inconvenience and pain to poor Fitzherbert. Then 
 the anchor was run down, and a boat was lowered. 
 While they were bringing Fitzherbert on deck, 
 Delamere took the sailors aside, and paid them 
 their money out of a heavy bag of gold. 
 
 ** What shall you do now ? " he asked the 
 captain. 
 
 The sea-dog grinned, and jingled the money in 
 his pockets.
 
 IN BRITTANY. 271 
 
 "Eun down to Brest, and go on the spree," he 
 replied. 
 
 "I needn't ask you fellows to keep quiet," said 
 his lordship. " No one knows of this business but 
 ourselves, and we're all equally culpable. So 
 mum's the word ! " 
 
 A couple of hours later Fitzherbert was lying 
 in bed, in a small village inn, half-farm, half- 
 cabaret. His friends had brought a French 
 surgeon to him, who, after carefully examining 
 his wounds, pronounced that with care he might 
 possibly recover. It was a very bad case, how- 
 ever ; and by this time the patient was tossing 
 about deliriously, in a state of violent fever. Julia 
 O'Gallagher sat by the bedside, eager to nurse 
 him back to life. 
 
 " If you knew — if you knew ! " she sobbed. 
 " Oh, gentlemen, it was all my father's doing ! 
 Your friend .was too noble to say a word in his 
 own defence. He was silent that he might spare 
 me pain ! " 
 
 " Poor Fitz ! " muttered Delamere, dashing 
 away a tear. ** He was always staunch, wasn't 
 he, Deuceace ? " 
 
 *' Eather ! " said the Major. " Well, he's got a 
 good nurse, at any rate." 
 
 They left Julia alone with the patient, and 
 walked down to the window. Here they found 
 Jack Heywood, dressed in his sailor's suit, and 
 looking sadly out to sea.
 
 272 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 "How is he, gentlemen?" asked Jack. 
 
 " Much the same. Sawbones thinks he may 
 pull round." 
 
 "It's very strange that we should be here to- 
 gether," continued Jack. " I saw him once or twice 
 in prison, and recognized him directly. He was 
 a great friend of Ealph Holhs, of Deepdale." 
 
 " Now Earl Beauchamp," said Delamere. " Yes, 
 that's right enough. Beauchamp and he have 
 always been close pals." 
 
 " I met them together at Doncaster t' very night 
 before t' murder," continued Jack; and as he pro- 
 ceeded, he fell from excitement into the old familiar 
 Yorkshire dialect. " I had gotten more drink than 
 was good for me, and I ha' sometimes thought they 
 two played me a scurvy trick. Anyhow, after I 
 had drank wi' Hollis and t' Captain, I lost my 
 senses. When I got them again, I was a prisoner 
 in t' gaol, accused o' killing t' best man that ever 
 liyed — t' man I loved best of all men in t' world 
 — my poor foster-father, Jabez Pryke." 
 
 The two gentlemen looked at him in wonder, for 
 his voice was choked with tears, and he was sobbing 
 like a child. 
 
 " Jabez is yonder up i' heaven," he cried, 
 lifting his hands, " and he knows — God bless him ! 
 — that I loved him dear. I couldna have done 't ! 
 I couldna have raised a hand to harm Jabez ! But 
 'tis all a blank still 'tween the time when I drank 
 wi' those chaps and the time I were a prisoner in 
 gaol ! "
 
 IN BRITTANY. 273 
 
 '' You were driinli, you see," suggested Delamere. 
 "At any rate, I'm sure poor Fitz would never play 
 you a scurvy trick, as you call it." 
 
 And he turned on his heel, and walked towards 
 the shore with Deuceace. Though capable of doing 
 so much for a comrade of his own set, he had little 
 or no sympathy with the criminal classes, and in 
 his eyes Jack was a commonplace convict. 
 
 " Queer, ain't it ? " he muttered. " Well, it's a 
 queer world ! " 
 
 " Doocid queer ! " chimed in Deuceace, who was 
 no more eloquent than his friend. 
 
 Jack watched them, and his heart swelled in- 
 dignantly, for he felt that they did not believe a 
 word of his story. He was a free man, but the 
 taint of the prison was still upon him, the shadow 
 of a hideous crime. What was he to do ? He had 
 escaped, but he was still an outcast. He thought 
 of his faithful old friends, of Kachel Dene. How 
 was he to communicate with them? Would he 
 ever see them again? Better, far better, he 
 thought, if the bullets had struck him instead of 
 the other, and he had died at the moment of his 
 escape. 
 
 While he stood in despair, the two gentlemen 
 returned. 
 
 "We've been talking it over," said Delamere. 
 " We think you'd better not stay here. Your best 
 plan, if you don't want to get caught again, is to 
 make tracks for America." 
 
 " I have no money," answered Jack.
 
 274 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 "I'll get that all right. I'll lend you fifty 
 pounds." 
 
 " Why do you want me to go, my lord ? Can't 
 I stay here a while, and see if that poor chap gets 
 better ? " 
 
 "It isn't safe," replied Delamere. "There is 
 certain to be a bother, and I rather fancy the 
 extradition treaty would be put in operation as 
 soon as our hiding-place is discovered. Now we 
 can manage to cook up some story about the sick 
 man ; but if you hang about, it might get us into 
 trouble." 
 
 " Very well, my lord," said Jack, sturdily. " I 
 see what it is : you want to get rid of me, because 
 in the eyes of t' law I'm a murderer and a scoundrel ! 
 But I'll go— I'll go ! " 
 
 " The best thing you can do. Here's the 
 money ! " He placed some notes and gold in 
 Jack's hand ; then, turning to Deuceace with a 
 laugh, he added, " I say, old man, I'm nearly 
 cleared out ! I never told you how they stared at 
 Coutts's when I handed in my cheque and asked 
 for a thousand pounds in fivers. I shall consider 
 it a cheap investment if we pull poor Fitz round." 
 
 It was now growing late in the afternoon. On 
 inquiry, Jack ascertained that a diligence would 
 leave the village at midnight, with Brest for its 
 destination ; and by that diligence he arranged to 
 depart. He would doubtless find a vessel at Brest 
 to take him on to the Far West. As soon as the 
 arrangements were made, he again sought out
 
 IN BRITTANY. 275 
 
 Delamero and Deiiceace, who were sitting in the 
 little cafe attached to the inn. 
 
 " Only one favour before I go, gentlemen," he 
 said. " I want to have one last look at t' poor 
 chap upstairs." 
 
 " Very well," replied his lordship. " Only you 
 must not speak to him ; he is to be kept quiet." 
 
 They went upstairs together and knocked at the 
 bedroom door. Julia O'Gallagher, pale and calm 
 as any sister of mercy, let them in. 
 
 " He is very restless," she whispered. " I have 
 given him the doctor's draught, but it does not 
 seem to do him good." 
 
 They approached the bedside. Fitzherbert lay 
 on his back, his eyes wide open, breathing heavily 
 as if in pain. 
 
 "Poor chap! — poor chap!" murmured Jack, 
 looking down upon him. 
 
 At that moment the wounded man gave a start, 
 and turned his head. His eyes looked straight 
 into Julia's face. 
 
 ** Who's that?" he cried. 
 
 "It's me — Jack Heywood," answered Jack, with 
 a sob, " who was with you in t' prison. Don't you 
 know me, Captain ? I met you long ago wi' Ealph 
 Hollis, at Doncaster." 
 
 " Come away, man," said Delamere, taking Jack 
 by the arm. 
 
 But before they could leave the room Fitzherbert 
 called them back. 
 
 " Stop ! Don*t go ! " he cried. ** I remember
 
 276 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 now. Come here, I say. It's all coming back 
 upon me before I die. Give me some brandy — 
 quick ! " 
 
 Julia glanced at Deuceace, who nodded assent, 
 and bending gently over him, she wet his lips with 
 spirits and water. He was quite conscious now, 
 and sensible. Haggard and wild, panting for 
 breath, he waved to Jack and the others, beckon- 
 ing them to the bedside. 
 
 "Ah, Algy, old man! God bless you for what 
 you've done ; but it's no use — no use ! I'm going ! " 
 
 " No, no ! " sobbed Julia. " Calm yourself, 
 dear ; you'll soon be well." 
 
 " I shall never be well again," he answered, 
 reaching out for her hand. "My poor Julia! 
 God will look after you when I am gone. Algy, 
 old man, I loved her — remember that ! " 
 
 " I'll remember," replied Delamere, almost 
 breaking down. 
 
 "But I can't die till I've told you the God's 
 truth. You see that man ? Look at him ! God 
 brought us together, and punished me. Listen, 
 all of you. You shall listen ! We met him at 
 Doncaster, Ealph Hollis and I, and doctored his 
 drink. Next day we heard he had been taken up 
 for murder. I thought him guilty, for he was 
 taken red-handed with the murdered man. It was 
 a lie ! He didn't do it ! He was as innocent as I 
 was, poor devil ! I wouldn't have let him hang, 
 but I let him go to a fate worse than hanging. 
 God forgive me ! — God forgive me ! "
 
 A SUNBEAM IN DEEP DALE. 277 
 
 In his wild frenzy of truth-telling, Fitzherbert 
 sat up in the bed, his eyes fixed on Jack, his 
 mouth twitching as if with palsy. 
 
 "Come away," said Delamere; "it's killing 
 him ! Lie down, old fellow, and go to sleep." 
 
 "No!" said Fitzherbert. "Don't leave me, 
 Algy ! Hear all I've got to say ! He's innocent, 
 I tell you ! I know it, because I had the truth 
 from the other man's own lips. And it wasn't 
 murder, after all ! He swore it wasn't murder, but 
 an accident ! " 
 
 " Who — ivho swore it ? " exclaimed Jack. " Tell 
 me, for God's sake ! " 
 
 "Ealph Hollis ! " replied Fitzherbert: and he 
 fell, fainting, back upon the bed. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXIX. 
 
 A SUNBEAM IN DEEPDALE. 
 
 Rachel Dene sat alone in the drawing-room of the 
 great house at Deepdale. 
 
 Her grandfather and grandmother were bath 
 away in London, and she was left in solitude, to 
 entertain her own sad thoughts. 
 
 The monotony of her life had been broken, only 
 a few days before, by a letter from Joan Heywood, 
 announcing the escape of Jack from Portland, fol- 
 lowing close upon which had come the sensational
 
 278 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 accounts in the newspapers of the mutiny in the 
 prison, and the escape of the two prisoners. 
 With a wildly-beating heart, she had read the 
 reports, which culminated in the description of 
 the flight down the shore by night, the wounding 
 of one of the convicts, and the disappearance of 
 both on board an unknown sailing vessel. One 
 of the two had been dangerously hurt. But which 
 of them ? The reports didn't tell — the reports 
 did not know. Was it her lover ? — or was it his 
 companion ? Sick with sympathy and terror, she 
 read the wild record over and over again, but 
 could come to no conclusion. 
 
 Later details proved that all the machinery of 
 police had been set to work to trace the fugitives, 
 in vain. The coasts were everywhere patrolled 
 and watched, armed ships were scouring the sea, 
 the hue and cry was out on every side, but the 
 missing vessel had cunningly evaded pursuit. 
 Jack, then, had escaped ? But how ? — and was 
 he dead or living? Eachel Dene would have 
 given the world to know. 
 
 Ralph Hollis was still in the Far West. After 
 some months of salmon-fishing in Canada, he had 
 gone on to Manitoba, and thence across country 
 to Denver and San Francisco. He had written 
 frequently — long letters, to which her grandfather 
 had replied, and in one of which, received only 
 a few weeks past, he had boldly expressed the 
 hope that Eachel might some day become Lady 
 Beauchamp.
 
 A SUNBEAM IN DEEPDALE. 279 
 
 Jacob Dene had read her the words, and they 
 seemed so kindly, so respectful, and so loyal, that 
 she was deeply touched ; but she had only said, 
 with a sad smile, " Nay, grandpapa, thou knowest 
 I shall never marry." 
 
 She had long seen, nevertheless, that the old 
 people were working zealously on Ealph's behalf — 
 a knowledge which would have made her very 
 angry if she had not been completely possessed 
 with the sentiment of the young Earl's kindness 
 in her time of trouble. 
 
 In point of fact, Ealph had been on the point 
 of returning to England ; had actually taken his 
 passage home by the North German Lloyd line 
 from New York, when he read in the English 
 newspapers an account of Fitzherbert's arrest and 
 conviction. A nameless terror filled him, and he 
 dared not return, lest the only man who knew his 
 secret should involve him in his downfall. No; 
 he would let the thing blow over, and, before 
 sailing, discover if there was any danger. Meeting 
 an old comrade in New York, he went on with 
 him to New Orleans, where he fell back into some 
 of his old habits, and relapsed into gambling and 
 dissipation. 
 
 As Rachel sat looking out at the wintry prospect, 
 thinking of Jack, and wondering if he were alive 
 or dead, a knock came to the door, and the 
 waiting-maid brought in a card, saying that a 
 gentleman wished to see her on particular busi- 
 ness. She looked at the card and read, " Lord
 
 38o RACHEL DENE. 
 
 Delamere," a name quite unfamiliar to her ; but 
 she asked the maid to show the visitor into the 
 drawing-room, and as he entered, rose to meet 
 him with characteristic self-possession. 
 
 " Good afternoon, Miss Dene," said his lord- 
 ship, beaming upon her with his good-humoured 
 boyish face. " You must let me apologize for 
 intruding upon you without an introduction. I 
 have come a long way to see you, and am 
 glad to find you at home." Then, seeing her 
 look of surprise, he added, "I've often heard of 
 you, Miss Dene, from one whom you know very 
 well." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Eachel, wondering still more. 
 "Prithee, sit down." 
 
 Delamere took a chair, and became a little con- 
 fused and nervous — a very unusual circumstance 
 ■with one generally so cool. He fidgeted with his 
 hat, dropped his umbrella, and all the time kept 
 his eyes fixed nervously on the young girl's 
 face. 
 
 '* Can you keep a secret ? " he said, at last. 
 
 "I hope so," she answered, smiling. 
 
 "Because," he continued, smiling also, "I'm 
 going to place myself in your power. If the police 
 knew what I am going to tell you, I should very 
 likely wear a sample of steel bracelets before 
 to-morrow morning. I've broken the laws, my 
 dear Miss Dene, in an awful way. I'm a regular 
 criminal, egad ! " 
 
 She gazed at him with fresh wonder, and began
 
 A SUNBEAM IN DEEPDALE. 281 
 
 to think that he was, at lea&t, very eccentric. He 
 certainly did not look like a criminal, though, for 
 his face was the picture of indolent good humour. 
 His next words startled her, and her colour came 
 and went wildly as he spoke them. 
 
 ** Have you read in the papers of that affair at 
 Portland ? " 
 
 ** The escape from prison ? " she cried. " Yes, 
 yes ! 
 
 "Well, you'll hardly believe it, but 7 was in it, 
 and that is what has brought me here." 
 
 Rachel rose to her feet with a cry. 
 
 " Thou hast news of Jack — of Mr. Heywood ? 
 Tell me quickly, is he alive or dead ? " 
 
 "Make your mind easy. He is very much 
 alive." 
 
 "But one was wounded. I have been in terror 
 ever since lest " 
 
 " It was not your friend whom the rascals shot 
 down," said Lord Delamere ; " it was poor Fitz, 
 my chum — the best fellow in the world ! We 
 planned their escape. It was well managed ; but 
 poor Fitz got his quietus. He's — he's dead ! " 
 
 And the speaker drew his hand across his eyes, 
 while his hearty face grew sad and clouded. 
 
 "But I gave him a promise before he died," 
 continued Delamere to Rachel, who scarcely heard 
 him, for she was weeping joyfully, and gazing 
 silently. " I gave him a promise, and I'm going to 
 keep it. With his dying breath. Miss Dene, he 
 cleared an innocent man ; more than that, he had
 
 282 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 everything set down, and legally witnessed, and 
 signed it with his own hand." 
 
 "What dost thou mean?" cried Eachel. He 
 said — he said " 
 
 " That young Heywood was no murderer. That 
 the murder — it wasn't murder, though — was done 
 by some one else." 
 
 " I knew it — I knew it ! Oh, thank God — thank 
 God ! " 
 
 At the joyful news, all her love sprang up like a 
 fountain, and she wept like a child. As she tried 
 to dry her eyes, she glanced towards the door, and 
 uttered a wild cry. On the threshold of the room, 
 framed in the doorway, stood a pale, bearded man, 
 looking at her. He wore a rough sailor's suit, and 
 was otherwise much changed ; but she knew him 
 in a moment. 
 
 " Jack ! " she cried ; and he sprang forward and 
 caught her in his arms as she fainted away. 
 
 When she recovered she was lying on the sofa, 
 and Jack — the same kind, gentle Jack of old — was 
 bending over her. 
 
 "Forgive me, Eachel!" he said. "I thought 
 you would be glad to see me again, and I think 
 you were ; but I'd no right to take thee by sur- 
 prise like that, my lass. I've come all the way to 
 Deepdale to see thee, and tell thee some good news." 
 
 She blushed and shrank away, for in a moment 
 of joyful impulse she had revealed her whole heart 
 to the man who had scarcely ever dared to speak 
 to her of love.
 
 A SUNBEAM IN DEEPDALE. 283 
 
 "Thou canst prove thy innocence," she said. 
 " Oh, I am so glad, so glad ! " 
 
 The man's face saddened. 
 
 " Maybe, lass ; when 'tis all proved, you'll be a 
 bit sorry too ; and I'm in trouble still. The 
 hue and cry is out after me, and if the police 
 knew I was here, they would take me back to 
 gaol." 
 
 She looked round. The room was empty, for 
 Lord Delamere had discreetly retired. She sprang 
 up, and closed the door. 
 
 " Take thee ? But thou art innocent ! Ah, I 
 knew it ! " 
 
 " I'll have to j)rove it, my lass," said Jack, '* and 
 that'll cause more sore hearts than one. But 
 there, let me look at thee ! Let me see the sweet 
 face I ha' dreamed of so many nights i' my 
 trouble ! I ha' had a bad time, my lass, since last 
 we met, but I'd go through it all again right gladly 
 to be sure 0' one thing, and that one thing's thy 
 love ! " 
 
 He held her in his arms, and she didn't offer 
 any resistance. Their lips met for one moment 
 of supreme happiness. Then she looked up, and 
 whispered, '' I knew thou wouldst come back to 
 me. Jack ! " 
 
 " Call me that again," he said. 
 
 " Jack — dear Jack ! " 
 
 " I was right, after all. You do love me, 
 then ? " 
 
 " I have loved thee always, I think ! "
 
 284 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 " Always ? " 
 
 '' At least, as long as I can remember. Most of 
 all, Jack, in thy great trouble." 
 
 There was a gentle tap at the door. Lord 
 Delamere walked in, smiling. 
 
 " Sorry to intrude, my lad, but we must get 
 back to London. My dear Miss Dene, make your 
 mind easy. Heywood here is going to walk right 
 back into the lion's mouth, but he won't stay 
 there. We'll prove he's innocent, right up to the 
 hilt, egad ! " 
 
 And he took Jack's hand. 
 
 " This is our best friend," Jack cried. " We 
 mustn't get him into trouble. No man must know 
 how it all came about." 
 
 Jack Heywood proceeded straight to London 
 and surrendered himself to the authorities, while 
 Lord Delamere went off to his friend the great 
 criminal lawyer, and put the whole matter in his 
 hands. A white lie was necessary to free Dela- 
 mere and Deuceace from complicity in the escape 
 from Portland, so it was suggested that the two 
 gentlemen, when rambling in Brittany, had found 
 Fitzherbert at the point of death, and by the 
 merest accident received his last confession. 
 Suspicion pointed to them as agents in the escape, 
 but proof was difficult, not to say impossible. But 
 money and influence in plenty were brought to 
 bear on the authorities. In a very short time 
 Jack's innocence was proved, and a warrant
 
 A SUNBEAM IN DEEPDALE. 285 
 
 issued for the arrest of Ealph Hollis, Lord 
 Bcauchamp. 
 
 That warrant, however, was never executed. 
 On the very day of its issue, information was 
 received by cable that an EngHsh peer, Earl 
 Beauchamp, had been shot dead in a gambling 
 affray at New Orleans. The shock of the news 
 killed his mother. She was thus spared the 
 knowledge of her son's great crime. Further 
 details confirmed the cable report, and added 
 shocking particulars, with which we decline to 
 trouble the reader. 
 
 Jack Heywood walked forth into the sunshine, 
 a free man. His first impulse was to go to Lord 
 Delamere, and thank that kindly peer for all his 
 goodness. He found his lordship in the smoking- 
 room of the club, in company with Major 
 Deuceace. They were looking sorrowfully at a 
 letter, which ran as follows : — 
 
 " Dear Lord Delamere, 
 
 " I am leaving England for India. Before 
 I go I wish to send you my last adieux, for we 
 shall never meet again. God will reward you for 
 your loyalty to your friend, the man I loved, and 
 shall love until I die. I do not mourn him ; I am 
 too proud, too glad. He died like an English 
 gentleman, and was happier in such a death than 
 in his life. 
 
 " Yours always truly, 
 
 "Julia O'Gallagher.'
 
 286 RACHEL DENE. 
 
 "Poor Fitz ! " said Delamere, folding up the 
 letter. 
 
 *' Poor Fitz ! " echoed Deuceace. 
 
 Then they shook hands with Jack, and asked 
 him to join them in a brandy and soda. He 
 declined, saying he had sworn off strong drink for 
 ever, but took some lemonade. 
 
 **I say, you're wanted in Yorkshire," said Lord 
 Delamere, smiling. 
 
 Jack laughed, and wrung the gentlemen's hands. 
 He would have hugged them both. Then he 
 rushed from the room, almost crying. 
 
 *'' Queer world ! " soliloquized Delamere. 
 
 " D — d queer ! " echoed the gallant Major. 
 
 *' Poor Fitz ! " 
 
 " Poor Fitz ! " 
 
 Then both gentlemen looked at each other 
 dolefully. 
 
 " Can't stand this," said Algernon, Lord Dela- 
 mere. "Eing the bell! Here, waiter, bring me 
 some more brandy and soda." 
 
 Our tale is told. If the reader demands any 
 further sequel, let him betake himself some day 
 to the happy and prosperous valley of Deepdale. 
 There he will learn, what he already guesses, that 
 John Heywood, once tried and convicted for 
 murder, reigns where Jacob Dene reigned, and 
 is now, thanks partly to the great invention, 
 the richest manufacturer in Yorkshire ; and that 
 his wife Rachel, once Rachel Dene, is his fit
 
 A SUNBEAM IN DEEPDALE. 287 
 
 helpmate, his companion in all things noble, and 
 the gentle mother of his many children. So the 
 dark cloud turned, and the silver lining shone 
 out upon the night at last. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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