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 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 A ROMANCE 
 
 BY 
 
 MRS. MARTIN BELL. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES, 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET 
 1850.
 
 LONDON : 
 
 G. J. PALMER, PRINTER, SAVOY STREET, STRAND,
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 They raised the bleeding Otho, and the leech 
 Forbad all present question, sign, or speech. 
 
 LARA. 
 
 AT six o'clock on the following morning 
 Count O'Donnel entered his nephew's 
 room. He found O'Connor asleep, and 
 treading lightly, the old war-worn soldier 
 approached the bed and gazed on the 
 sleeper. As Allaster lay there in the un- 
 conscious grace of his sleeping attitude, 
 
 VOL. II. B 
 
 2202849
 
 2 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 with the brown curls clustering over his 
 forehead, and the long dark lashes of his 
 closed lids almost touching his cheek, and 
 a dreaming smile curving his lip, an ex- 
 pression of youthful and almost feminine 
 gentleness sat on his face, and restored 
 in all its vividness his likeness to his mo- 
 ther. This resemblance, during his waking 
 hours, diminished, if not destroyed, by the 
 premature gloom of early care, which lent 
 to his countenance a cast of melancholy 
 haughtiness, returned with the hushed 
 repose and illusive happiness of slumber. 
 
 O'Donnel gazed long and steadfastly on 
 the son of his only sister, the living like- 
 ness of his gentle Alice ; and as he gazed, 
 an unwonted feeling of regretful tender- 
 ness stole through his stern breast, while 
 the indifference with which he had en- 
 gaged in the affair began to yield place 
 to a dispiriting anxiety for the safety of 
 the exile, who was to him as a son. But
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 3 
 
 he soon shook off these growing apprehen- 
 sions, and lightly touching O'Connor's arm, 
 called on him to wake. 
 
 " Get up, man, get up !" he exclaimed, 
 assuming the stern levity of manner which 
 had ever characterised him in the hour of 
 danger. " It is time to open the ball ; 
 your partner will be waiting, and I have 
 the flutes ready." 
 
 O'Connor sprang up, and began to dress 
 as quickly as he could. Not a trace of 
 the rebel feelings which for a moment had 
 unmanned the gallant old soldier were 
 allowed -to meet the observation of his 
 nephew. 
 
 " How have you settled it, uncle T asked 
 O'Connor, as he hurriedly put on his 
 clothes. 
 
 " I saw Vernon last night. They are 
 to meet us in the Prater, behind the grove 
 of oaks at the end of the allee. It seems 
 
 B 2
 
 4 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 Stanley has sprained his arm, so you fight 
 with pistols." 
 
 " The time V asked O'Connor. 
 
 " Half-past seven. We must be there 
 to the moment, not late, as it is your first 
 affair ; not too early, for it looks so 
 damned fussy. Coolness is everything." 
 
 " I am just ready," said O'Connor. 
 " Take that packet ; it contains a letter to 
 Father Eustace, and one to Herbert. I 
 have filled a cheque for the money I have 
 at Elkan's ; you will draw it, and have it 
 lodged for Grattan at the English bank 
 which does Elkan's London business. I 
 have told Father Grattan that I make him 
 my heir. You will manage this matter 
 for me. Write to him too. Poor old 
 man!" 
 
 O'Donnel took the packet with a steady 
 hand : but as he put it into his pocket, a 
 knitting of his shaggy eyebrows, and a
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 5 
 
 twitching of his grizzled moustache, be- 
 trayed the feeling which shot through his 
 iron frame. He opened the pistol-case, 
 and after examining the weapons with a 
 critical eye, he replaced them carefully in 
 their receptacle. 
 
 " The tools are in capital order ; a child 
 might do good work with such a pair 
 of prime implements. Are you a good 
 shot 1" 
 
 jyfii? I can pick the aces out of a pack of 
 cards, and cap the first bullet with the 
 second ; but that is nothing to the pur- 
 pose now. I do not want to shoot the 
 man." 
 
 " You'll fire at him for all that," said 
 the General. " Make one rule now, and 
 stick to it through life, and that is, never 
 fo go out with a man unless you intend to 
 fire at him." 
 
 " What sort of chap is Vernon T said 
 Allaster.
 
 6 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 " He is a very pleasant fellow to meet 
 on such business, although he has not had 
 much experience. We toss up for the 
 word. Make haste that cravat will do 
 very well." 
 
 " I am ready," said O'Connor. " You 
 have been very kind to me since we met 
 each other, and you stand by me now like 
 a father. My life may not be a long one, 
 but long or short, it will be full of grati- 
 tude #nd affection for you." 
 
 He wrung the veteran's hand in the 
 strong grasp of manly affection. 
 
 " Hang you, Allaster, do not be croak- 
 ing," said the Count, while he thrust his 
 hand into his stock as if it pressed on his 
 throat. 
 
 O'Donnel's drosky was at the door, and 
 the old soldier-servant of the Count, Tim 
 Dwyer, who had followed him from 
 Athenry to Austria, and would follow him 
 to the other world if it were necessary, 
 stood at the door.
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 7 
 
 " Have breakfast ready in an hour," 
 said O'Donnel, as he stepped into the 
 drosky. " Give me the pistols, Tim." 
 
 " There they are, your honour," said 
 Tim, reverently handing in the case ; 
 " with the blessing of the good Lord, I'll 
 scratch another cross on the stock of 
 them to-night. The O'Connors, from 
 father to son, were red-handed, so there's 
 no fear this boy would get a bog bed and 
 a green quilt his first turn." 
 
 " Don't talk to me, Tim, I'm as nervous 
 as a cat this morning ; but once on the 
 ground I shall be all right." 
 
 O'Connor, who had been putting on his 
 cloak, now sprang down the steps and into 
 the drosky. They drove rapidly towards 
 the Prater. O'Connor thought of the un- 
 certainty of his own fate, and of the change 
 of the coming hour, but he Would not 
 allow a trace of his thoughts to appear on 
 his proud brow, O'Donnel, on whom
 
 8 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 rested the whole responsibility, felt more 
 anxious by far than his nephew. 
 
 They left the drosky at the star of the 
 allee, and walked on to the grove of trees 
 which marked the spot chosen for the 
 meeting. Stanley had not made his ap- 
 pearance. It was a beautiful morning : 
 the red sunlight glittered on the dewy 
 grass, and on the transparent crystalline 
 green of the young foliage ; the distant 
 heights were bathed in the sunny haze 
 floating along their wooded slopes, and 
 the reaches of the Danube, now hidden, 
 now revealed among the wooded isles and 
 winding shores, gleamed like the broken 
 links of a silver chain. O'Connor paced 
 
 \' 
 
 the sward in deep thought, while his 
 wandering fancy flew back to his distant 
 home. On such mornings as this he had 
 often met Julia Howard returning from 
 her morning walk, herself fresh as the 
 young day, and radiant as the April skies.
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 As he paced the glade, his eyes fell on a 
 mossy bank beneath one of the trees ; a 
 creeping honeysuckle twined up the oak, 
 and at its gnarled roots, rising out of the 
 ground, the pale silken moss was mingled 
 with the fragile white blossoms of the 
 wind flower, and the scentless blue violet 
 of the woods. One day, one well-remem- 
 bered day, Julia and he had sat on such a 
 bank for a moment, and she had gathered 
 those very flowers, and idly wreathed 
 them together, while he had sought to 
 speak of indifferent matters, but no words 
 would come from his lips ; and then he 
 had sat silent at her feet 3 smothering the 
 sighs which heaved his full breast. And 
 now he stood afar, beside the mighty 
 Danube, awaiting the moment which shoulcf 
 place his life on the hazard ; and that re- 
 membered hour of his youthful love ap- 
 peared soft and bright to his soul, and 
 
 B 5
 
 10 JULIA HOWARD* 
 
 made him almost forget the stern purpose 
 for which he was there. 
 
 The General meanwhile paced the 
 ground impatiently, chafing and fuming 
 at the tardiness of Stanley's movements. 
 He looked along the road, then at his 
 watch the hour was past and his ire 
 was kindled. 
 
 " Confound the puppy," he muttered ; 
 u confound his modish impertinence, that 
 he cannot get up in time to fight while the 
 place is quiet." 
 
 " It is yet early," said O'Connor ; " had 
 you not called me I should be asleep 
 still." 
 
 " Faith, you take it coolly," said the 
 General ; and then, as he walked to the 
 end of the allee, he muttered, " and so 
 should I if that teufelsbraten Edward were 
 in this boy's place, I wish it were done 
 and over."
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 11 
 
 The sight of a caliche, advancing as fast 
 as the horses could step, cut short the 
 ebullition of the General's wrath. He re- 
 turned to O'Connor, and in a few minutes 
 Stanley and Vernon, accompanied by a 
 surgeon, made their appearance, O'Con- 
 nor raised his hat and bowed ; Stanley re- 
 turned the salute with equal formality of 
 courtesy. 
 
 " I fear we have made you wait, Count, 
 said Vernon. " I came round by the 
 Freyung to take up Rath Shroeder, They 
 are first-rate shots, so it is as well to be 
 prepared for the result" 
 
 The General responded with ceremo- 
 nious amenity to Vernon's excuses, and 
 they proceeded to work, while the sur- 
 geon, behind a tree, busied himself with a 
 case full of sundry ill-favoured instruments. 
 
 " We will place them here, across this 
 avenue," said the Count. " Vernon, mark 
 the distance."
 
 12 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 He dropped his glove on the spot, and 
 Vernon told off the twelve paces, All 
 preliminaries were disposed of, and their 
 men were placed. O'Donnel was to give 
 the word. As he drew back from Al- 
 laster's side, he turned deadly pale, and 
 compressed his mouth as if a spasm had 
 convulsed his iron nerves. 
 
 " Allow me to give them the word," 
 whispered Vernon, with a look of genuine 
 good feeling." 
 
 " No, I must not be so womanly in my 
 old age. I count three, and then you fire. 
 One two three !" 
 
 The sharp report of the pistols almost 
 covered his last word. O'Connor stood 
 unhurt and unmoved ; Stanley staggered, 
 and would have fallen, had not Vernon 
 sprung forward to support him. 
 
 O'Connor stood for a moment, waiting 
 lest Stanley should ask a second shot ; 
 but when he saw him leaning on the arm
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 13 
 
 of his friend, he flung away the pistol 
 which he had retained in his hold, and 
 assisted his uncle and Vernon to place 
 Stanley on a bank near the spot. The 
 ball had fractured Stanley's arm at the 
 elbow, and then lodged in his breast. It 
 was a painful and dangerous wound, and 
 the blood from the divided artery was 
 spouting in jets over the hands of the sur- 
 geon. Feeling a strange sickening sort of 
 anxiety, O'Connor knelt beside the wounded 
 man, who was fast losing all consciousness 
 of surrounding objects, although he recog- 
 nised O'Connor, and feebly raised his left 
 hand to his grasp. 
 
 O'Connor pressed the offered hand with 
 a sensation of bitter self-reproach, as he 
 remembered the heedless trifling by which 
 he had roused the jealousy of Stanley's 
 slighted love. The surgeon dressed the 
 wound as well as circumstances admitted, 
 and then he relieved O'Connor's anxiety
 
 14 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 by announcing that there was no imminent 
 danger of a fatal result, and that even 
 amputation might not be necessary. 
 
 " Thank Heaven !" muttered O'Connor, 
 as he rose from the ground where he had 
 knelt, supporting Stanley's head during 
 the operations of the Rath. 
 
 4 ' WeD, Tim, I have brought him home 
 safe, wind and limb," said the General, as 
 he sat down to his breakfast ; " and he is 
 worth caring for too, let me tell you. 
 Game to the backbone ! Give me the 
 cutlets, Tim, and the mulled ale." 
 
 " It is kind, father, for him to be game,'" 
 said Tim. " But as the English chap I 
 disremember the queer names that is on 
 them always is not dead, I need not make 
 the cross on my little beauties this time," 
 
 " I wonder how any man can be a fire- 
 eater," said Allaster, " I would not will- 
 ingly endure again what I suffered while 
 the surgeon was tying that artery, when 
 
 3
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 15 
 
 I saw all the muscles of Stanley's arm 
 contracting with pain, though he was 
 fainting." 
 
 " Myself is as well pleased you did not 
 kill him/' said Tim ; " for as you will 
 surely be red-handed like all your people, 
 you will be safe in the next duel you 
 fight." 
 
 " I will go to see Stanley after break- 
 fast," said O'Connor, as he poured out his 
 chocolate. 
 
 " You are right," said the General. 
 " You behaved right well : so cool first, 
 and then so kind to the poor fellow. I 
 hope he will rub through without amputa- 
 tion, for I find the loss of an arm to be 
 very inconvenient." 
 
 *' Arrah, General, don't even the likes of 
 him to yourself," growled Tim Dwyer ; 
 " sure what matter would it be if twenty 
 English puppies kicked the bucket ! 'Twas
 
 16 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 them brought the hunger and the sorrow 
 into Ireland." 
 
 " There is no use in arguing with Tim," 
 said O'Donnel. " He would answer the 
 priest in his vestments, let alone a poor 
 boccha sinner like me." 
 
 The General proceeded to the palace to 
 
 'j 
 attend a council summoned by the Duke 
 
 of Lorraine. Allaster went to the embassy 
 to see Stanley. 
 
 Some days passed, and Stanley's wound 
 was disposed to heal ; the fever was slight 
 for the extent of the injury, and Stanley 
 had a sound strong constitution. Rath 
 Schroeder talked of the first intention, 
 and promised a prompt convalescence. 
 O'Connor and Stanley became more inti- 
 mate, during a few days of suffering on 
 one side and patient kindness on the 
 other, than they might have become 
 during months of the ceremonious inter-
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 17 
 
 course which had characterised the begin- 
 ning of their acquaintance. 
 
 Stanley's manner, when the world was going 
 well with him, was marked and marred by 
 that superficial appearance of haughtiness, 
 which is as often the result of apathy as of 
 pride. With youth, fortune, and good po- 
 sition in society, he had lived fast, and had 
 tried every pleasure, and had consequently 
 reached the end of all such things, the 
 listlessness of satiety. With such a man 
 O'Connor might have spent years without 
 falling into the slightest degree of inti- 
 macy. In the solitude of the chamber of 
 pain it was different. The acquired polish 
 and supercilious coldness of manner disap- 
 peared before the humbling touch of sick- 
 ness ; and Stanley, in a strange land, with- 
 out a friend to watch over his restless 
 couch, and dependent on menials for the 
 tendance on which his life depended, was 
 grateful for the unwearied kindness and
 
 18 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 attention of O'Connor, And in his turn 
 Allaster was not a little surprised to find 
 that many of his preconceived notions were 
 rather too hastily taken up ; and to learn 
 that Stanley, notwithstanding his foppery 
 and affectation, possessed many good and 
 even noble qualities. His character was 
 alloyed with selfishness, and enervated by 
 the jaded languor which follows the un- 
 limited indulgence of dissipated passions ; 
 but when any event occurred which had 
 power to break through the hard crust of 
 acquired habits, the latent spring of native 
 good feeling was to be found full below. 
 He was fearless as an English bulldog, 
 which I take it is the bravest thing in 
 nature ; laborious when toil was necessary, 
 though indolent and voluptuous in times 
 of ease ; true to his friends, and capable 
 of frankly and freely forgetting an injury, 
 although he could not forgive an un- 
 punished insult. O'Connor soon became
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 19 
 
 acquainted with this complex character ; 
 and in the reaction of a generous spirit, 
 when he was persuaded of the injustice of 
 his former prejudices, he sought eagerly 
 to atone for having ever entertained them. 
 He was untiring in his care of his wounded 
 friend, whom he soon liked as sincerely 
 and cordially as he had once disliked 
 him. 
 
 The term of O'Connor's leave was fast 
 approaching. He was already well ac- 
 cepted in the world of Vienna, and at last 
 his presence at a court ball assured him a 
 fixed position even in the most exclusive 
 set. Francis of Lorraine, desirous of show- 
 ing due consideration to the gallant veteran 
 O'Donnel, presented Allaster to the Queen, 
 who spoke to him with that graceful con- 
 descension for which she was remarkable 
 among all the sovereigns of Europe. Her 
 blooming youth, her beauty, her proud 
 queenly grace, the noble interest thrown
 
 20 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 around her by the hazardous position of 
 her affairs, and by the dauntless resolution 
 with which she fronted every danger in a 
 spirit worthy of the blood of Hapsburg, 
 and the softer interest which she derived 
 from her happy and simple domestic life 
 with the husband of her choice, -all these 
 conspired to excite the chivalrous devotion 
 of her subjects. 
 
 O'Connor felt his admiration for the 
 woman mingling with his loyalty to the 
 Queen, and he listened with a bounding 
 heart and a flushing cheek to the few 
 words with which she honoured him. To 
 him, the descendant of the rude immemo- 
 rial royalty of the Celtic race, to him 
 whose spirit, irritated by early misfortune 
 mingled the pride of the stoic with the 
 scorn of the cynic, the notice of a king 
 would have been rather repugnant than 
 flattering ; he would have despised himself 
 had he become a bland, bowing, smiling
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 21 
 
 courtier. But when the sovereign he had 
 chosen was a woman, he felt honoured 
 even by the service he offered her ; he 
 felt that a smile of Maria Theresa would 
 be a rich guerdon for the noblest deeds of 
 devotion, and he cherished the remem- 
 brance of her few short words, to be at 
 once an omen and a stimulus in his future 
 career of soldierly adventure. 
 
 Among those of his acquaintances pre- 
 sent at the ball, he found himself at once 
 somewhat more highly considered; the 
 nattering notice of the Queen, and his 
 uncle's favour with the Duke, raised him 
 from the uncertain rank of a mere un- 
 known soldier of fortune, and gave him a 
 position which he very well knew how to 
 estimate. The kindness and ready sym- 
 pathy, which peculiarly belong to the Ger- 
 man character, manifested themselves in 
 the unfeigned hearty pleasure with which
 
 22 JULIA HOWAKD. 
 
 his friends observed the distinction con- 
 ferred on him. 
 
 As brighter prospects opened to his 
 view, the depressing weight of hopeless 
 poverty passed from his spirit. The mo- 
 rose pride with which he had nerved him- 
 self to bear the ruin of his fortune, and 
 the sullen reserve in which he had wrapped 
 himself lest he should appear to court the 
 favour of the world, yielded to the exhila- 
 rating influence of hope. The power of 
 enjoyment returned the ardent spirit of 
 his boyhood came back upon him the 
 deep spring sparkled, as it were, into light 
 and life from its dissolving fetters of ice. 
 His mind woke from its torpor-^-his highly 
 cultivated intellectual nature resumed its 
 healthful active existence. Forgetful of 
 self never seeking display never dwell- 
 ing too long on any topic, he showed the 
 keen sense of the ridiculous, and the frolic
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 23 
 
 humour which so eminently cnaracterise 
 his countrymen, whose gaiety is allied to 
 the deepest feeling, and whose wit is 
 blended with poetry. He abandoned him- 
 self to the pleasures of society with that 
 thorough honest open enjoyment, which 
 interested every one in his favour, at the 
 same time preserving his quiet manner, 
 and that perfect repose without which even 
 talent becomes intolerable in society. Lord 
 Deepdene was highly pleased with his de- 
 butant : had O'Connor failed in the ordeal, 
 Lord Deepdene would have liked him less, 
 although he would not have the less tried 
 to serve him. With all the Earl's good 
 qualities, and sterling, generous feelings, 
 there were yet a few unacknowledged pre- 
 judices mingled. He had been too long ac- 
 customed to the hothouse atmosphere of 
 good society ; he had contracted some- 
 thing too much of deference to its arbi- 
 trary laws, and had learned to value its
 
 24 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 factitious polish somewhat too highly. But, 
 luckily, Allaster did succeed, and Lord 
 Deepdene's pride was flattered by his fa- 
 vourite's success, and he smiled compla- 
 cently when Countess Bathyany said that 
 O'Connor was a " Trouvaille charmante. " 
 
 " Where have you spent your morning V 
 inquired Lord Deepdene on the following 
 day, as O'Connor entered the dining- 
 room with an apology for his tardy ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 " In six horse-dealers' yards," said 
 O'Connor ; " I can get nothing to suit me. 
 Those Turks are all fine showy animals, 
 but with legs which I don't like, though 
 perhaps if they were not so barbarously 
 shod they might be better." 
 
 " Just before you came over," said 
 O'Donnel, who also dined with Lord Deep- 
 dene, " I bought a horse from Count 
 Groody, a dappled, tawny, tan- coloured 
 thing, which will make a splendid charger.
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 25 
 
 I'll give him to you, and, moreover, of my 
 bounty I will also give you a groom of my 
 own rearing, Fritz Dwyer, the boldest rider 
 in Austria." 
 
 " What an hybrid appellation the youth 
 rejoices in," said Lord Deepdene. 
 
 " And he himself is a half-bred thing. 
 His father followed me from Galway, and 
 was more a friend than a servant to me ; 
 his mother was my girl's nurse. So, Allas- 
 ter, you will have your tail on, like an Irish 
 chief, when you get this fosterer." 
 
 " You will want three horses," said 
 Lord Deepdene, " so I have no scruple 
 of conscience in asking you to take my 
 Sicilian off my hands. She was a gift, so 
 I cannot sell her, and the trouble, ex- 
 pense, and risk of taking her back to 
 England make me wish to quarter her on 
 one of my friends here. Will you take her, 
 O'Connor ]" 
 
 VOL. II. C
 
 26 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 " I will take her with thanks," said 
 O'Connor ; " I only fear I ought not to 
 accept so valuable a gift. Your groom 
 told me that you refuse a hundred gui- 
 neas for her." 
 
 " I could not sell her," said Lord Deep- 
 dene ; " but I could have got that price 
 for her from the Duke of Cumberland, who 
 wished to put her into his stud." 
 
 After dinner, Allaster visited Stanley, 
 whom he found in high spirits ; Rath 
 Schroeder having pronounced that the 
 fracture was knitting, and having promised 
 that the arm would be as strong and flexi- 
 ble as ever. Cheered by this bulletin, 
 Allaster proceeded with a light heart to 
 take possession of his Sicilian mare, accom- 
 panied by O'Donnel, whom he dragged off 
 to admire his acquisition. 
 
 " Now, then," said O'Donnel, " your 
 outfit is provided, Stanley is all right
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 27 
 
 
 again, and you have got some days of your 
 leave. What do you mean to do with 
 yourself?" 
 
 " Whatever you please, uncle ; I think 
 I ought to join at once." 
 
 " There's nothing stirring down there 
 yet," said O'Donnel. " I am thinking of 
 leaving town to-morrow ; I must go home 
 to sow my oats and look after my lambs. 
 Will you leave this gay town, and go down 
 to Durrenstein with me T 
 
 " Where you go, I go," said O'Connor. 
 
 " Then to-morrow we start for home. 
 It is your home now, Allaster. I long to 
 see my girls. They are all that remain to 
 me of my happiness ; but I am wrong in 
 saying this, my boy," he added, as he felt 
 the affectionate pressure of Allaster's hand 
 on his arm ; " I am wrong, for you will be 
 a son to my old age." 
 
 " A son to you and a brother to my 
 cousins. I am most impatiently curious 
 
 c 2
 
 23 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 to sec them. Tim Dwyer tells me that 
 Alma is an angel, and the other the mer- 
 riest little imp in Germany." 
 
 " Aye, so they are. You will like them, 
 All aster ; and it will be a comfort to me 
 to know that they have a friend and a bro- 
 ther near them when I am gone." 
 
 They reached the stables where Lord 
 Deepdene's horses stood, and the mare 
 was brought out and stripped of her 
 clothes. She was a brown bay, much 
 clouded with black shades on her quarters. 
 She was from the stud of the king, kept 
 up in Apulia, by crossing the Arab blood 
 with the old Calabrian race celebrated 
 since the days of the Romans, and still re- 
 taining the same qualities for which it was 
 valued by the patricians. All the best 
 points of both sire and dam were united 
 in the form of this mare. The long mus- 
 cular arm, the short strong leg, flat and 
 broad below the knee, the crest more
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 29 
 
 arching and full than is common among 
 mares, belonged to the Italian, the fine 
 shoulder, the deep chest, the small head, 
 with the broad forehead and tapering 
 muzzle, the large staglike eyes, and rather 
 too long ears, belonged to the high blood 
 of the desert. Her qualities matched with 
 her points ; she had the speed of the east, 
 and the strength of the west. 
 
 " Is she not a beauty, uncle V ex- 
 claimed O'Connor, as he sprang on her 
 back. 
 
 She plunged furiously, but finding she 
 could not unseat him, she trotted quietly 
 through the streets, only testifying her 
 impatience by the oblique glance of her 
 eyes and an occasional toss of her head, 
 while her ears w6re laid back on her neck, 
 and her nostrils opened and shut with her 
 hot breath. Reaching the Prater, O'Con- 
 nor gave her the rein and touched her 
 flank with the spur.
 
 30 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 Wild neighed the untamed mare, as 
 gradually quickening her pace she burst 
 away in her bounding gallop, every swell- 
 ing vein and each elastic and spring-like 
 sinew strung for the aimless race. She 
 chafed against the bit which O'Connor 
 made her feel to rouse her mettle ; the 
 foam gathered on her mouth and flaked 
 her broad breast, but not a drop of sweat 
 stained her dappled side, and not a pant- 
 ing sob escaped from her deep distending 
 chest. 
 
 O'Connor's spirit rose sympathetic with 
 the fiery ardour of the gallant mare. 
 Care, suspense, poverty, were swept from 
 his mind. Welcomed, not disdained by 
 the world, supported by staunch friends, 
 honoured by the notice of the daughter of 
 the old imperial line, he was no longer the 
 hopeless and obscure exile. Received by 
 the veteran Count" O'Donnel with the af- 
 fection of a father for a long absent son, he
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 31 
 
 had found a home, when he was re-united 
 to the busy world of domestic life by the 
 ties of kindred and the thousand small 
 strong links of household charities. The 
 intoxication of fresh springing hope, of sol- 
 dierly ambition, of vague glorious aspira- 
 tions after immortal honour and bound- 
 less enjoyment, gained a growing empire 
 over his spirit, once again buoyant as in 
 his earliest years. The dream of his boy- 
 hood was about to be realized by the open- 
 ing career of his manhood. He stood on 
 the threshold of the arena ready to engage 
 in the struggle for fame, power, and 
 wealth. He was about to take his part in 
 the momentous business of life, and al- 
 ready he felt himself ennobled by his anti- 
 cipated share in the dangers and triumphs 
 of his adopted country. In the thick- 
 coming visions of the hurrying future, the 
 excitement of peril, the racy stir of adven- 
 ture, the allurements of every pleasure that
 
 32 JULIA HOWAKD. 
 
 might woo the senses, the flattery of the 
 world, seemed but to wait on his com- 
 mand. He thought of Maria Theresa's 
 royal smile, and his heart beat high with 
 chivalrous pride ; he thought of his suc- 
 cesses in society, and his cheek flushed 
 with the glow of an almost boyish satis- 
 faction. He exulted in the rich gifts with 
 which nature had dowered him ; his fear- 
 less, ardent spirit, his powerful mind in- 
 stinct with the sacred fire of poetry, and 
 even the proud beauty of his blooming 
 manhood ; he felt all his worth, and he 
 revelled in the consciousness of such an 
 existence. False shame, and a false, weak 
 philosophy, conceal and condemn those 
 feelings which nature implants in every 
 richly-organized being ; and even of them- 
 selves they are but for a day, their bright 
 effervescence soon vanishes, but while they 
 last, no other pleasure can exceed the deep 
 joy of that triumphant sense of life and 
 power within us.
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 33 
 
 " On, Sissy, on !" he cried, slapping his 
 hand on the crest of the mare, and with a 
 snort and a bound she dashed forward 
 and gained the brow of an eminence over- 
 looking the broad currents of the mighty 
 river. O'Connor dismounted, and stroking 
 the wavy tresses of her silky sable mane, 
 he allowed her to breathe from her exer- 
 tions, while he gazed on the rushing waters 
 of the Danube, and muttered half aloud in 
 his reverie : 
 
 " Like that river be my life ! It is 
 come from its obscure source among the 
 far-off hills of the Black Forest, it has 
 passed from the narrow gorge and dark 
 ravine, it has swept over the treacherous 
 shoal, it has burst from the circling 
 whirlpool, and now the deep majestic 
 current rolls on its way, unbroken and 
 calm in its resistless strength. Julia, thou 
 shalt yet be mine ! I feel it I know it ; 
 thou art part of my being, and I am thine ! 
 
 c 5
 
 34 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 and well have I kept the vow I swore to 
 thee 1" 
 
 The pawing of his restless mare roused 
 him from his waking dream. He mounted, 
 and rode slowly homewards.
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 35 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Soft, as the memory of buried love ; 
 Pure, as the prayer that childhood wafts above, 
 Was she, the daughter of that rude old chief, 
 Who met the maid with tears, but not of grief. 
 / THE BRIDE OF ABYDOS. 
 
 ON the following day, Count O'Donnel 
 and his nephew set out for Durrenstein. 
 For some hours they travelled through the 
 richly cultivated plains which extend, 
 broad, and green, and teeming with homely 
 luxuriance along the shores of the Danube. 
 Everywhere the peasantswere atwork in the 
 fields ; the ploughman whistled as his patient
 
 36 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 team turned the brown fallow, the boatman 
 sang as his barge was towed against the 
 current by the slow oxen, and the wild, 
 shrill shout of the raftsman rose on the air 
 as the masses of timber drifted down be- 
 tween the willow-clad islands of the broad 
 Danube. 
 
 It was evening when they passed 
 through the old town of Stein, and entered 
 the mountain gorge of the Danube. The 
 scene changed at once. The hills rose 
 precipitously from the water's edge, their 
 sides clothed with pine-forest, and their 
 lower spurs crowned by palace convents, 
 while their rocky peaks were crested by 
 the crumbling rums of feudal strongholds. 
 White villages clung to the sides of the 
 valleys winding between the hills, their 
 orchards white with the lavish abundance 
 of blossom fringing the sombre woods. 
 Below the river, now spread like a moun- 
 tain lake without any apparent outlet, now
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 37 
 
 rushing onwards in the wild velocity of its 
 dark smooth current, and now again 
 foamed white over rock and reef with a 
 roar like thunder, as it swept along the 
 narrowing ravine. Among the ruined cas- 
 tles, there was one lonely tower, seated like 
 an eagle's eyrie on the brow of a rocky 
 pinnacle, which O'Donnel pointed out, 
 with more than common interest, to his 
 companion. 
 
 " That is the Alt Schloss of Durren- 
 stein, the prison of Cceur de Lion." 
 
 O'Connor looked on the shattered 
 ruins, and felt that, despite the lapse of 
 consuming Time, there is yet a magic in 
 the legendary tale of feudal greatness, and 
 that an interest still attaches to the deeds 
 and the sufferings of the royal troubadour, 
 the crusader king, whose name stands 
 highest on the blazoned roll of chivalry. 
 
 " Let philosophers cavil as they will, 
 and plodding historians write as they list !"
 
 38 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 he exclaimed ; " let them drag into search- 
 ing light the abuses of feudalism, and as- 
 sert that the courage and gallantry of the 
 age of chivalry were stained throughout 
 with ferocity and licentiousness ; let them 
 do their worst, still our hearts will beat 
 high with responsive ardour when we 
 read the traditionary story of knightly 
 prowess." 
 
 " Yet we were less remote from the age 
 of chivalry," said O'Donnel, "you would 
 be forced to see how many and crying 
 abuses it engendered. Even the remnant 
 of the feudal system yet subsisting in the 
 jurisprudence of this country is a fruitful 
 germ of evil. It causes a radical anta- 
 gonism between the different classes of 
 society ; the nobles have a right to be op- 
 pressors ; the peasants have just cause to 
 be disaffected." 
 
 " It may be true," said O'Connor. " I 
 seek not to revive the tameless spirit of
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 39 
 
 the world's fresh youth in those toil-bur- 
 dened days of the world's old age. I 
 know that the fiat is gone forth, and that 
 the change is wrought. The thoughts, 
 deeds, feelings, and laws of the middle ages 
 are passed away beyond recal; but yet, 
 amid the material progress of civilization, 
 and the positive interests of our social life, 
 something is wanting to the yearning en- 
 thusiasm which lives, even when unac- 
 knowledged, in the breast of every man 
 whose nature possesses a want and a capa- 
 city of enjoyment beyond the range and 
 reach of mere animal gratifications." 
 
 " You ought to have been born a Ger- 
 man, Allaster," observed Count O'Donnel, 
 with a smile. " I once heard a mad poet, 
 a pet of Countess Bathyany, say that every 
 man of talent and education bildung, 
 as they call it lives in two worlds, the 
 real world and the ideal world, and that 
 all his noblest impulses belong to the lat-
 
 40 JULIA HOWAKD. 
 
 ter. I thought him a fool ; for if his doc- 
 trine were true, God help us; no great 
 man could be a gallant soldier nor a happy 
 husband." 
 
 "He carried the thing too far," said 
 Allaster. " The noblest impulses all arise 
 out of the stern and holy duties of real 
 active life the life of a man in his home 
 and his country where he lives, toils, suf- 
 fers, and dies, for and with what he loves 
 or what he reveres. But the refinement 
 and exquisite grace of the poet or the 
 artist are created by those hours of brood- 
 ing reverie when we surrender ourselves 
 to the romance of chivalry, the sorcery of 
 Eastern lore, or the treasures of classic 
 poetry ever glowing in their eternal youth- 
 ful freshness, like the sea waves, unnum- 
 bered smiles, which time has had no power 
 to change." 
 
 Count O'Donnel did not answer, and 
 probably did not listen to O'Connor's
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 41 
 
 rhapsody of enthusiasm. The carriage was 
 rattling over the stony street of the little 
 village of Loiben, and the Count, with his 
 head out of the window, was returning the 
 hearty and respectful greetings of the pea- 
 sants, just then coming home from their 
 work. 
 
 " There's the Wunderberg, that high 
 hill to the right/' said O'Donnel, as get- 
 ting clear of the straggling village the 
 road turned sharply round the base of 
 Durrenstein, and entered a narrow valley, 
 where a stream, sparkling in the rosy twi- 
 light, leaped from rock to rock with a 
 joyous murmur, where old oaks and ches- 
 nuts cast their broad shadows over the 
 small space of pasture bounding the stream 
 on either hand, and where the weeping 
 birch waved its graceful pendulous 
 branches among the rocks, which led the 
 eye upwards from the sylvan valley to- 
 wards the pine-clad cliffs of the wizard
 
 42 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 Wunderberg. Beside the stream stood a 
 long low house, built of grey stone; the 
 projecting roof was supported by rudely- 
 carved corbels beneath the eaves; along 
 the front ran a range of windows, in which 
 florid oriels alternated with narrow gothic 
 lattices, a deep-arched gateway, surmount- 
 ed by the arms of O'Donnel, occupied the 
 centre of the front, and permitted O'Con- 
 nor to discover beyond a court, adorned 
 by the statues and conchshells of an old- 
 fashioned fountain. The whole house was 
 thickly mantled by the luxuriant festoons 
 of the wild vine. A garden sloped down 
 to the stream, an orchard in full bloom 
 sloped upwards to the base of the Wunder- 
 berg. 
 
 The carriage turned into the archway, 
 where, on either side, Allaster saw a flight 
 of broad stone stairs. As the General 
 got out, a girl came bounding dow r n stairs, 
 and, clasping her arms round his neck,
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 43 
 
 kissed him again and again, while he 
 strained her to his' breast with his one 
 arm, and kissed her with fond tender- 
 ness. 
 
 " Ich habe dich wieder ! I have you 
 once more !" exclaimed the girl in her de- 
 light; and then, still clinging to the old 
 man's arm, she held out her hand to Tim 
 Dwyer. 
 
 " Nurse will be in the kitchen, Frau- 
 lein," said Tim, as he shook hands with 
 his foster-daughter, and then went in 
 search of his wife. Meanwhile all the ser- 
 
 N 
 
 vants gathered round the master. 
 
 " Kuss die hand 1" said the men, doffing 
 their caps and bowing, as the Count 
 nodded to them a kindly greeting. 
 
 " Kuss die hand \" lisped the pretty 
 rosy maid-servants; but they suited the 
 action to the word, and did kiss the vete- 
 ran's hand, while the old soldier stroked 
 the hair of one and patted the round
 
 44 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 cheek of another, as if they were his own 
 children. 
 
 "Gut gefahrt, gut bigalht, Gnadiges Frau- 
 lein," said the postilion, as he tied up the 
 rope traces, and let his sagacious nags 
 make their own way to the pump and the 
 stables. 
 
 " Do give him a double trinkgeld, Tim," 
 said the young Countess to her foster- 
 father, who made his reappearance with 
 his wife ; " every one must be happy here 
 to-day, as I have my father once more. 
 Dear, naughty father, why did you stay so 
 long in Vienna \ I was so lonely;" and 
 she drew him up-stairs, saying, " Come 
 now, I want to hear of my Irish cousin ; is 
 he handsome I shall we love him "? can he 
 speak German T 
 
 " Let him answer for himself ; I'll pa- 
 rade him for inspection. Here Allaster 
 where have you earthed yourself ?" 
 
 Allaster had kept himself in the back
 
 JULIA HOWAED. 45 
 
 ground, and unnoticed by any one, watch- 
 ed this little German home scene with 
 amused curiosity. When his uncle called 
 him, he sprang up-stairs, and joined the 
 father and daughter on the landing-place. 
 Alma received him with a timid eagerness 
 of welcome ; very shy and very affection- 
 ate, she tried to show her joy at meeting 
 her cousin ; but he was so young and 
 handsome, that she could not treat him 
 with the frank open kindness she had in- 
 tended to lavish on him, when, before he 
 came, she and her sister had been plan- 
 ning the meeting. She could not make a 
 brother of him. She gave him her hand, 
 and he was just raising it to his lips, when 
 the General threw the young girl into his 
 arms. 
 
 " Was zum henker ails the boy and 
 girl ?" he said, laughing ; " Mein Herr so 
 polite and my lady Countess so gracious ! 
 Kiss her, man ; kiss her !"
 
 46 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 Making a virtue of necessity, Allaster 
 pressed his lips to those of Alma O'Don- 
 nel ; apparently it was a pleasing virtue 
 and a sweet necessity, for a second slight 
 pressure of his lip stole a second kiss from 
 the blushing girl ere he released her from 
 his embrace. Alma O'Donnel was very 
 pretty. Tall and slight, her figure pos- 
 sessed a drooping grace which claimed the 
 tenderness of all who knew r her, indicating 
 as it did but too truly the frail delicacy of 
 her health and the sweet gentle lovingness 
 of her disposition. Her face was round, 
 and her features not strictly regular ; but 
 her forehead was high and smooth, her 
 complexion exquisitely clear and fresh as 
 the flower of the peach ; her large blue 
 eyes shone with a liquid lustre, and rivalled 
 the azure of the April sky ; her coral lips, 
 often parted by a half smile, and never 
 closely shut, showed teeth small, even, and 
 white as pearls. Her hair of a golden 
 
 4
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 47 
 
 auburn, fell in clustering curls round her 
 face, but its length and thickness were 
 such, that enough remained to form two 
 massive and burnished plaits, which were 
 wound round her head, and secured at the 
 back by a golden arrow. She wore the 
 old German costume a tight boddice of 
 crimson velvet, a black apron, and a white 
 petticoat, short enough to show a beautiful 
 foot and ankle. A black velvet ribbon 
 encircled her neck and supported a dia- 
 mond cross. 
 
 They all entered the stube. O'Connor 
 glanced round with the half awakened cu- 
 riosity of a man entering for the first time 
 the house which is to become his home. 
 The room, large and lofty as German 
 rooms generally are, bore witness to the 
 tastes and habits of the family. The fur- 
 niture was of carved oak, polished and 
 darkly tinted by age ; little Turkish car- 
 pets covered the corners of the room,
 
 48 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 leaving the middle bare. The stove was 
 an edifice of blue and white tiles, sur- 
 mounted by a group of shepherds and 
 shepherdesses with flower-baskets, dogs 
 and sheep, all in bright-coloured Dutch 
 china. On one side of this quaint fire- 
 place a bracket supported a lamp, near 
 which, on a little shelf, was displayed a 
 goodly range of pipes, Turkish and Ger- 
 man, meerschaum and china, all silver and 
 amber mounted, and dainty smoke-stained 
 clays, not mounted at all, and none the 
 worse for that. Beneath the lamp and 
 within reach of the pipes, a large arm- 
 chair marked the General's usual place. 
 On the other side of the stove, a similar 
 bracket and lamp, a cane chair, a small 
 spinning-wheel, and a basket of flax 
 marked the Countess Alma's favourite 
 place. A few pictures battle-pieces and 
 hunting scenes some arms, ancient and 
 modern, in beautiful order some military
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 49 
 
 maps and plans, were arranged on the 
 wainscoated walls. Files of newspapers, 
 an embroidery frame with a piece of tapes- 
 try in progress, a harpsichord and guitar, 
 a pile of music, and a couple of cabinets, 
 filled, as Allaster afterwards discovered, 
 with some well-chosen standard books in 
 English and German, completed the fur- 
 niture of the room, and perfected the 
 silent history of the daily life of the in- 
 mates of the Schloss. Among the pictures 
 was one portrait, that of a young woman ; 
 from its likeness to Alma, O'Connor 
 guessed that it was the picture of her 
 mother. 
 
 " Welcome to your home, Allaster," said 
 Count O'Donnel. As he turned to speak 
 to his nephew, he saw him gazing on the 
 picture. The veteran's own eyes, too, 
 rested on the fair face pictured there ; the 
 last rays of the setting sun rested on it, 
 
 and cast a soft halo round it ; and the 
 
 > 
 
 VOL. II. D
 
 50 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 deep clear eyes and gentle smile which 
 the painter had caught and fixed on the 
 canvass, seemed to meet and reply with 
 mute eloquence to the long gaze of the 
 old man. He turned away, and opening 
 the door of the stove, sat down, and looked 
 into the cheerful flames. Alma wound 
 her arm round his neck, and laid her rosy 
 cheek upon his head, where the grey hair 
 was already thinned by time. " I still 
 have thee to cheer my old age, gold kind- 
 chen !" said the General, fondly playing 
 with the small hand which rested on his 
 breast. " Where is Friederike V 
 
 Before Alma could answer, the report 
 of a rifle rang through the room ; it was 
 followed by the sharp yelping of dogs, and 
 the clear ringing tones of a female voice 
 speaking loud and quick. The door flew 
 open, and a girl and two setters came 
 bounding into the room. The girl flung a 
 rifle on a sofa as she passed, and sprang to
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 51 
 
 the General's breast ; the dogs jumped 
 and fawned on him, barking and whining 
 as if jealous of his caresses, while he kissed 
 their mistress again and again. 
 
 By the darkening twilight, aided by the 
 quivering light of the wood fire, O'Connor 
 could see that his young cousin was a 
 pretty creature of sixteen, short, round,, 
 plump, and merry, with an olive skin, a 
 rich red cheek, bright black eyes, and 
 dark curly hair, Irish every inch. His 
 heart warmed to her at once. Her Hun- 
 garian pelisse and fur cap became her ex- 
 ceedingly, and heightened the originality 
 of her appearance. 
 
 " Down, Riekchen down, Flora get 
 away, Caspar," said the General, address- 
 ing the same exhortation to the girl and 
 her canine friends ; " down all of you, you 
 imps, and let me be quiet will you T 
 
 " Bow wow, alter vater ; don't be cross," 
 said Friederike, again putting the tips of 
 
 D 2
 
 52 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 her fingers on the General's shoulder, and 
 jumping up to snatch another kiss. 
 
 " Rika bitte, speak to our cousin," said 
 Alma. " She is not quite mad," she 
 added, turning her soft friendly glance on 
 Allaster, while she drew her sister towards 
 him. 
 
 Frjederike looked at O'Connor with 
 
 frank fearless curiosity, and then held out 
 -cfou >' fysa _,oi>9a. 
 her two hands to him. 
 
 " I think I shall love you," she said. 
 " You see, Alma, he is just like what I 
 described him to you last night ; your de- 
 scription is not a bit like him." Then 
 turning again to O'Connor, she went on, 
 " If I cannot love you I shall hate you, 
 for I cannot bear to be disappointed; and 
 we settled that we were all to become 
 
 great friends." 
 
 & 
 
 " Oh, I think we shah 1 get on very well 
 together, when my native shyness is worr 
 away," replied O'Connor, laughing. " You
 
 JULIA HOWAED. 53 
 
 must tell me what were the respective 
 portraits you both drew of poor insignifi- 
 cant me." 
 
 " Liebe Rika !" pleaded Alma, blushing 
 to her temples. 
 
 " Oh, I tell no tales, little sister ; do not 
 be afraid," and Rika ran off to dress for 
 supper, followed by her dogs. 
 
 " Now shall we have peace," said O'Don- 
 nel. " It is a good child, All aster, but 
 she will plague you to death if you chance 
 to like quiet." 
 
 The evening passed on. The little 
 bustle of the Count's arrival subsided. 
 Supper was served, and O'Connor found 
 himself at home. He was received with 
 no niggardly affection ; no chilling reserve 
 indicated how lately he had been thrown 
 into their little circle. He was gay and 
 happy. The General and the two girls 
 were resolutely cheerful ; but as the even- 
 ing passed away, many a melancholy re-
 
 54 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 membrance was crushed down into their 
 hearts. It was the first time that the 
 old man had returned to his fireside, with- 
 out the welcome of his wife ; it was the 
 first time that the girls had laid aside 
 their mourning ; and both he and they felt 
 that the last link was broken, and the last 
 trace of her they had loved was swept 
 away from their home for ever. Had 
 O'Connor known this, he would have 
 shared in their suppressed sorrow, for he 
 too had but a few days before taken off 
 his mourning to put on his uniform, and 
 in doing so he felt as if he but then really 
 closed his father's grave for ever.
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 55 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Perish the man whose mind is backward now. 
 
 SHAKSPEARE, 
 
 O'CONNOR could only give three days to 
 1 )urrenstein, but within that space of time 
 he contrived to make himself a favourite 
 with every one. He came, saw, and con- 
 quered, as he boasted with a comical affec- 
 tation of puppyism. He read and walked 
 with Alma, quizzed her broken English, 
 which she lisped with the sweetest accent 
 that ever lent silvery music to the lan- 
 guage, and got quizzed in turn for his 
 German, to which his habit of thinking in
 
 56 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 Irish gave a strange sort of originality 
 which made common thoughts seem new 
 and amusing to his cousins. Hovering be- 
 tween unconscious flirtation and true bro- 
 therly affection, he loitered away the even- 
 ings with Alma, seated on the grass in the 
 garden, while the General smoked his pipe, 
 and looked complacently on the young 
 pair, whenever he could take his eyes 
 away from the beatific contemplation of 
 the smoke wreathing its white curls round 
 the turbaned Turk's head of his meer- 
 
 9flj 
 
 schaum. 
 
 The pretty Friederike delighted in her 
 cousin, .whom she alternately teazed and 
 petted to her heart's content. He won 
 Frau Dwyer's kind motherly heart, by 
 allowing the good old soul to take care of 
 him, and surround him with sundry com- 
 forts and luxuries which he inwardly de- 
 tested ; as to Tim Dwyer, he had long 
 since crept into the old soldier's good
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 57 
 
 graces by listening to divers long yarns of 
 the Italian campaigns, and by answering a 
 roll-call of questions touching the men and 
 things pertaining to the town of Galway. 
 In short, the whole duty of man, and of 
 woman too, in the schloss, seemed to con- 
 sist in devising pleasure for the young 
 soldier, so that to please every one he had 
 only to appear pleased, and he joyfully 
 vouchsafed them thus much in recompense 
 
 of their pains. 
 
 d ' ?T j '.-V : 
 The pretty sisters begged another day, 
 
 " just one day longer," when O'Connor 
 fixed his departure for the next day. His 
 presence had indeed produced a great 
 change in the old secluded schloss ; and 
 his high spirit and active youthful nature 
 had given to everything he did and said 
 a racy zest which taught the two girls that 
 life was something more enjoyable than 
 they had hitherto found it. The prospect 
 of his absence made them look on their 
 
 D 5
 
 58 J0LIA HOWARD. 
 
 return to their quiet home-life with dread. 
 Life without their handsome cousin seemed 
 so dull and colourless to their fancy. The 
 contending parties appealed to the General. 
 Alma and Friederike pleaded that one 
 little day could make no difference. O'Con- 
 nor said that he wanted to spare his horses 
 on the journey. The General decided 
 against the rosy suppliants. In the morn- 
 ing all was ready for Allaster's departure. 
 O'Donnel gave him letters to some of his 
 veteran friends, men grown grey in the 
 service, and high in rank as in honour. 
 Alma gave him a pocket-book worked by 
 her own fairy fingers, and filled by the 
 General with something more valuable 
 than the usual contents of such receptacles 
 in the possession of cornets, who are com- 
 monly better provided with love-letters 
 than with letters of credit. 
 
 u No thanks, man," he said ; " get on 
 your horse, and pocket your gratitude and
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 59 
 
 your money. I have more money than 1 
 know how to spend on myself and my two 
 little hussies, so I may treat myself to the 
 luxury of making you a son for my old age. 
 Eh, Allaster V 
 
 " If you want a son, alter vater," cried 
 Friederike, " call me Fritz, and I shall be 
 a very good boy. I can skate, swim, and 
 shoot, and ride ; and what more could your 
 heart desire T 
 
 " You impudent baggage, I wish you 
 were a boy, for then I could thrash you 
 when you over-ride the horses, and bag 
 the covey before any one else can get a 
 shot at them ; but now I can make nothing 
 of you. You do your worst at mischief, 
 and then you come about me and coax me 
 with your girlish way, and I cannot find it 
 in my heart to scold you." 
 
 The horses were at the door, and Frau 
 Dwyer was taking leave of her son, and 
 inculcating with equal emphasis the duty
 
 60 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 of confessing once a month, and of getting 
 aired beds for himself and his master at 
 the Moravian inns, where such minutia of 
 comfort are not much heeded by the 
 hosts. 
 
 " Heaven bless your head, woman," said 
 Tim Dwyer ; " 'tis little time they'll have 
 for confessions and stations. Father Ta- 
 vier will have to clear off the old scores 
 when they come back." 
 
 " And as to damp beds, Dora," said 
 Count O'Donnel, " they may find them 
 useful as a preparatory step to the wet 
 ground." 
 
 " Come back a colonel, or never come 
 back," said Riekchen, pointing to the wall 
 where her rifle hung from the antlers of a 
 stag. 
 
 " You threaten, do you," said Allaster, 
 laughing. " You know our bargain ; every 
 time you bully me I kiss you, so here 
 goes," and he caught her in his arms, and
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 61 
 
 exacted the penalty with enormous usury 
 too. 
 
 " Take care of yourself, Allaster," whis- 
 pered Alma ; " do not rush into heedless 
 dangers." 
 
 " Are you a soldier's daughter ?" said 
 the Count ; " a soldier's daughter, and a 
 coward for your cousin 1" 
 
 " Let him only resemble my father," 
 replied Alma, looking proudly up to the 
 gallant veteran ; " too brave for fool- 
 hardiness, too calm for rashness ; I ask no 
 more from him." 
 
 " They are better off than we were, 
 Tim," said the General. " We were 
 poor as mice when we joined Taaffe's 
 cuirassiers." 
 
 " True for you, Herr Graf," said Tim 
 Dwyer ; " I mind your honour gave the 
 last florin you had for our dinner on the 
 day we joined at Covalho." 
 
 isri
 
 62 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 " Beginning better, I hope we may end 
 as well," said O'Connor. 
 
 He sprang into the saddle, waved his 
 hand once more in parting salutation ; the 
 spur just touched the flank of his Hunga- 
 rian charger, and with a bound and a 
 snort the horse dashed out of the court. 
 
 " Kuss die hande du Herrschaft," cried 
 Fritz, as he mounted the Sicilian, and fol- 
 lowed his master, evidently delighted with 
 himself, his mare, his master, and the whole 
 world, and all things therein. 
 
 " They are good boys too," said the 
 General. " I am proud of that handsome 
 high-spirited boy ; I see my own youth 
 again in him, and my sister's bright look 
 is on his face." 
 
 Alma gazed sadly after the travellers, 
 and poor Frau Dwyer began to cry as she 
 followed with her eyes the figure of her 
 son. Old Tim twisted his grey moustache, 
 and smiled grimly on his wife.
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 63 
 
 "Weibchen geh undhute deineganschen," 
 he said, " don't be crying and crurying 
 about the gossoon ; sure it is only right 
 that he should see service and follow the 
 young master. It will make a man of him 
 out of hand, forby having him going to the 
 bad here in idleness." 
 
 Fritz followed his master soberly enough 
 while in his mother's sight ; but when he 
 had gained the cover of the first grove of 
 oaks, a cheer of delight burst from his 
 lips, he flung up his cap into the air, caught 
 it again, and cantered the bounding Sici- 
 lian, while he sang an old song of his 
 father's. 
 
 Hurrah, hurrah, for freedom and the field, 
 
 We are off to the wars again ! 
 The drum's deep roll, and the bugle's wild note, 
 
 Call brave lads to the battle plain. 
 
 " A good song, and well sung," said 
 Allaster ; " but do not canter that mare 
 
 3
 
 64 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 like a Galway groom. The trot is your 
 pace." 
 
 " Sure 'tis myself is a Galway groom," 
 replied Fritz ; " my father was bred and 
 born in Oranmore." 
 
 O'Connor laughed, but the accents of 
 his native tongue, and the names of the 
 well-known places, fell with a strange 
 music-like words of blessing on his ear in 
 that distant land. 
 
 " You speak Irish well," said O'Connor ; 
 " should you like to see old Ireland, 
 Fritz T 
 
 t ! ' ''..- 
 
 " Oh of all things, gnadiger herr. My 
 old father tells me it is like heaven fun 
 and frolic all the year round. This is 
 what he says when he has a sup taken, 
 and is a weeshy bit disguised in liquor ; 
 but when he is fasting from the yellow 
 bottle, he shakes his head, and says this 
 country is near hand as good a place to 
 live in."
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 65 
 
 " The girls are very pretty here," ob- 
 served O'Connor, as he turned, and resting 
 his hand on his horse's croup, looked after 
 a rosy girl, who, with her scythe against 
 her shoulder, and a truss of dewy clover 
 on her head, tripped by, wishing him a gay 
 good morrow in return for his bow. 
 
 " So they are, your honour ; but they 
 work so hard, reaping, cutting firewood, 
 and driving the cow-carts, that the pret- 
 tiest of them are old and ugly as Blocks- 
 berg witches at twenty-five. Oh, I should 
 like to go to Ireland, where the girls have 
 nothing to do but to milk the cow, and 
 dance with the boys that are courting them 
 under the linden trees on the green." 
 
 O'Connor began to whistle the tune of 
 Cailiu dhas Crutheen-a-oo, and smiled at 
 the picture of Irish peasant life which 
 juggling fancy painted on the imagination 
 of the German boy. Poor Fritz thought
 
 66 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 that love and fun were the life's business 
 of the Irish peasant ; little knew he that 
 fun and love are there linked with ex- 
 tremest misery. The wild frolic humour 
 of the Irish peasant is but the reckless and 
 wilful mirth of despair, that seeks to stun 
 its sickening consciousness of suffering ; 
 and love, the only enjoyment left to the 
 poor, instead of fluttering in the bright 
 beams of pleasure, hides itself in the hovel, 
 and but nerves the man and the woman 
 to live on in their sorrow ; it sends the 
 man forth fasting to earn the scanty meal 
 of the evening, which the pale wife pre- 
 pares and shares with him and her chil- 
 dren, trying to satisfy the hunger of the 
 young brood, and to steal something from 
 her own share to add it to the portion of 
 her husband, lest he should not have 
 strength to toil on the following day for 
 himself and those bound to him by the
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 67 
 
 strong galling links of misery, like as 
 Laocoon and his sons are bound together in 
 the crushing grasp of the serpent. 
 
 For several days their road lay athwart 
 the fertile but dreary plains of Bohemia 
 and Moravia. The rich soil, just covered 
 by the young corn, spread away for leagues 
 on every side. Not a hill, not a knoll, 
 broke the wide level of the plain, or 
 cheered the traveller with the deceptive 
 hope that when he had gained its summit 
 another scene would greet his sight. Scarce 
 a tree varied the low line of the horizon, 
 or cast a shadow on the earth, where the 
 only change which enlivened the face of 
 nature was that momentarily produced by 
 the sunshine and the cloud shadows flitting 
 along the plain; Fritz's company was 
 quite a source of pleasure to O'Connor, 
 who allowed him to talk as much and as 
 familiarly as he pleased. The unalterable 
 good-humour, high spirits, and loyalty of
 
 68 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 the boy, grew on O'Connor's liking. The 
 praise of the old Count, of Alma, and of 
 Riekchen, themes which never wearied the 
 affectionate fosterer, became familiar to 
 O'Connor's ears, and by slow degrees grate- 
 ful to his spirit. Absent from them, he 
 became every day more fond of them. 
 
 At length one evening the faint outline 
 of the Riesengebirge was pencilled in airy 
 hues on the blue distance of the horizon. 
 On the following day, as they neared the 
 mountain frontier of Silesia, the wild and 
 beautiful features of the scene grew into 
 distinctness and substance. With a lighter 
 heart, Allaster O'Connor rode on his way. 
 The mountains rose on either hand ; the 
 free streams rushed from rock and cliif ; 
 the air was sharp and bracing ; every 
 breeze bore the fresh resinous odour of the 
 pine woods. Allaster felt that he breathed 
 more freely. The dull warm air of the. 
 plains oppresses the breast as well as the
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 69 
 
 spirit of the mountaineer. As lie de- 
 scended the heights near Wildenau, the 
 Valley of the Neiss lay beneath him, 
 with the fortress of Neiss frowning over 
 the river, which wound through low humid 
 meadows yet marshy from the inundation ; 
 for Roth, commandant of the town, had 
 laid the country under water to impede 
 old Schwerin's operations. 
 
 There was a strong garrison still there, 
 though Neuperg had moved forward ; 
 Gordon's hussars were quartered there 
 also, so the town was O'Connor's destina- 
 tion. As he rode on, the tramp of horses 
 came to his ear, and as the road wound 
 round a knoll, he came on a party of 
 horsemen riding slowly along. They all 
 belonged to Gordon's hussars, and with 
 several of them O'Connor had made ac- 
 quaintance at Vienna. 
 
 " Allaster, meinbester, here you come 
 at last !" cried Turkheim.
 
 70 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 " Karl, my fine fellow, how goes it here V 
 said O'Connor. " How do you do, Bar- 
 tenstein and you, Erdody T 
 
 They turned their horses' heads towards 
 the town, and surrounded O'Connor, whom 
 they received with cordial kindness. He 
 was one of themselves, and that was 
 enough to secure him a place and a wel- 
 come in the frank, fearless, and thought- 
 less brother band. 
 
 " Anything stirring here V inquired 
 O'Connor. 
 
 " Absolutely nothing," said Carl Turk- 
 heim ; " we might as well have been left 
 to Old Khevenhuller to ornament Vienna 
 with our gay dohnas and our own incom- 
 parable selves." 
 
 " Where is Neuperg *?" said Allaster ; 
 " and where is the enemy 1" 
 
 " Where have you lived that you ask 
 such questions ?" said Erdody. 
 
 "In Bohemia for the last ten days,
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 71 
 
 where I never saw a German paper ; and 
 my havings in Cyeck could be reckoned 
 by a tapster's arithmetic." 
 
 "Well then," said Bartenstein, "I will 
 give you all the information I possess. 
 Neuperg is entrenched on the heights be- 
 tween here and Jacgerndorf ; and Frederick, 
 having taken Brieg, has broken up from 
 Mollwitz, and is encamped at Strehlen/' 
 
 "But, in heaven's name, what are we 
 doing V demanded O'Connor. 
 
 "Why, nothing ! like ploughmen round a 
 showman's box, we are waiting to see what 
 we shall see. Both armies are observing 
 each other, but since they measured their 
 strength at Mollwitz, they do not like to 
 come to blows. Frederick, they say, is 
 resting on his arms in expectation of re- 
 ceiving overtures from the Queen, with whom 
 he has expressed his willingness to con- 
 clude a treaty of alliance offensive and de-
 
 72 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 fensive, if she will cede to him the whole 
 of Lower Silesia." 
 
 " Our government dare not conclude 
 such a treaty," exclaimed O'Connor. " They 
 dare not patch up such a shameful peace 
 while the stain of Mollwitz remains unef- 
 faced." 
 
 "We trust to the high spirit of the 
 Queen for this hope !" said Erdody ; " let 
 her call on Hungary, and ere such a con- 
 cession be wrung from her, many a horse 
 will run masterless, and many a plume 
 will sweep the dust." 
 
 "And, in the meantime," said Turk- 
 heim. " Neuperg is recruiting and re- 
 mounting the cavalry. The hussars are 
 pretty well off ; our light nags and light 
 weights suit the country; but the heavies 
 are sadly cut up." 
 
 " They say our fellows worked well at 
 Mollwitz," said O'Connor.
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 73 
 
 " So we did," said Bartenstein ; " Roo- 
 mer brought the cavalry down on the 
 right of the Prussians under Schulenberg ; 
 we charged five times ; at last we broke 
 the Prussians. They fled in disorder, and 
 Schulenberg was killed. Prince Leopold, 
 commanding their second line, fired on 
 the routed Prussians as well as on us. 
 Old Roemer, the gallant fellow, fell; and 
 then our brave fellows passed along the 
 whole front of the Prussians, and joined 
 the left wing of our army, with which 
 Neuperg was about to attack the Prussian 
 infantry." 
 
 " Frederick may be a general, but he is 
 no soldier," said Turkheim. " It is doubt- 
 ful even whether he possesses the wolfs 
 virtue courage. When Roemer broke 
 the blue lines, Frederick set spurs to his 
 horse, and rode up and down among the 
 mob trying to rally them, like a whipper- 
 in calling a pack of riotous hounds to 
 
 VOL. II. B
 
 74 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 order, but he ended by catching the panic, 
 and fled the field. He reached Oppelu 
 with three or four attendants, the place 
 was occupied by our irregular horse, they 
 fired on him, and he rode off, calling out 
 to his aides-de-camp, ' I am better mount- 
 ed than you, good-bye.' At day-break his 
 English grey failed, and he stopped at a 
 village apothecary's house, where a chas- 
 seur found him, and told him he was a 
 conqueror." 
 
 " Our staunch old Neuperg behaved 
 better," said Erdody. "He had a horse 
 killed under him, and received two 
 wounds." 
 
 " How came it to pass that we lost the 
 day ?" inquired O'Connor, his heart bound- 
 ing as he listened to the tale of his com- 
 rades' gallant deeds. 
 
 "When our cavalry was drawn to the 
 left wing to support Neuperg's combined 
 attack with left and centre, our right was
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 75 
 
 uncovered. The Prussian left, covered by 
 the swampy stream of Lanchwitz, was 
 fresh. Schwerin flung them on our right, 
 which was outflanked and driven in on 
 our centre ; and so, after five hours of 
 hard fighting, we retreated." 
 
 " Hoot, man 1" said Mackenzie, an old 
 Scotchman, who had a troop of the Gor- 
 don's ; " what's the good of cramming the 
 lad with these fag ends of fine bulletin 
 phrases 1 Just tell him the truth, and 
 this will be, that we fought well, the Prus- 
 sians fought better, we got well thrashed, 
 but we will thrash them the next time 
 out of spite." 
 
 "And, in the meantime, we are in 
 luck," said Erdody ; " there is nothing 
 going on but a little outpost duty, with an 
 occasional brush with the Prussian forag- 
 ing parties, and this all falls to our 
 share." 
 
 " The light cavalry are fighting this 
 
 E 2
 
 76 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 campaign single handed," said Karl von 
 Turklieim. 
 
 " The infantry fellows are getting quite 
 cross on it," said Bartenstein. " They say 
 they have nothing to do but to appear on 
 parade, and to flirt with the pretty girls of 
 Niess." 
 
 " I'll be sworn," said O'Connor, laugh- 
 ing, " that the Gordon's do not leave them 
 in undisputed possession of that part of 
 the garrison duty. I back Karl against 
 any man in the division to carry oiF the 
 best assortment of brown, black, and 
 golden curls in a given time." 
 
 " Bartenstein and I," said Erdody, " are 
 doing our best, our petit possible to keep 
 up the honour of the corps ; but Karl is 
 sadly changed ; he has taken up a passion 
 for solitary rides and moonlight rambles; 
 he damns the promenade and eschews the 
 ball-room as piously as the parish priest 
 eschews matrimony or the devil."
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 77 
 
 " Living the sweet past over again in 
 memory, or dreaming of the bright future 
 sunned by the Countess Ottilie's magnifi- 
 cent eyes ! said Allaster ; " which is it. 
 Karl V 
 
 " Or enjoying the present 1" put in Bar- 
 tenstein. 
 
 " Nonsense !" cried Turkheim ; but he 
 reddened as he spoke. 
 
 " Nonsense !" said Mackenzie, " like 
 enough it is nonsense; but I am just 
 thinking the nonsense comes in the shape 
 o' a pretty girl with golden hair, and a 
 voice like a lark singing above the white 
 thorn-tree ;" and Mackenzie whistled the 
 air of Bonnie Lassie wi' the lint whit e 
 locks. 
 
 Turkheim seemed to be nettled by all 
 this raillery. He spurred his horse sharply 
 to leap a stream running near the road 
 side. The horse lost his footing in the 
 marshy soil, and Karl was oliged to give it
 
 78 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 up with a muttered curse on the treacher- 
 ous ground and on his baulking horse. 
 
 " Aweel, laddie," said Mackenzie, " ye 
 need na curse the stream nor your nag in 
 that fashion. I said no harm till you, for 
 I mind the time, though 'tis long ago too, 
 when I was fond of such like nonsense 
 mysel'." 
 
 " I say, Allaster," said Turkheim, who 
 had recovered his good temper, " you shall 
 be appointed interpreter to Mac ; we all 
 speak a little English at a push, but his 
 Scotch and German are alike unknown 
 tongues to us." 
 
 Half an hour's sauntering riding brought 
 them to the gate of Niess. 
 
 " We dine at the Stadt Wien," said 
 Bartenstein ; " there is a capital table 
 d'hote and first-rate wine. Old Gordon 
 himself messes with us you will like him. 
 The greybeard is as young as any of us : 
 first in the field, and last at the carouse ;
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 79 
 
 none of us ever saw him leave the table 
 when we got up a regular Commers. He 
 says the best of us are only philistersal a 
 kneipe." 
 
 " Our mithers drank good ale, and our 
 fathers drank glenlivat," said Mackenzie ; 
 " so where could you get heads like ours, 
 you that never saw honest drinking in your 
 lives ? We send the youngsters to bed, 
 O'Connor, whenever we have a canny 
 supper, and whatever we drink, we are 
 able to turn out to parade next day as 
 sober as ruling elders at a synod ; but an 
 extra glass of tisch wein makes these boys 
 sick drunk." 
 
 " I fancy I shall be able to see fair play 
 between you and the Colonel," said O'Con- 
 nor, laughing. 
 
 " Na doubt," said Mackenzie ; " the 
 Irish are pretty men round a bowl, or on 
 the green. A body might fight them 
 across a table, and drink with them in the 
 dark."
 
 80 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 They dismounted in the court of the 
 Hadt Wien, and Turkheim led the way to 
 the Speise Saal, where he presented O'Con- 
 nor to the Colonel and some other officers 
 of the regiment. 
 
 " You'll sup with me, O'Connor," said 
 the Colonel, as he took up his cap and 
 sabre after dinner. " And you too, 
 Mac." 
 
 " I'm there," said Mac. 
 
 O'Connor of course accepted the invi- 
 tation. 
 
 " You lose the Redoute by this supper," 
 said Turkheim. " As this is Sunday there 
 will be a good meet to-night ; all the 
 pretty girls in Neiss." 
 
 " You lose naething at all," said Mac- 
 kenzie. " Ye wad only see a whern silly 
 tawpies skirling and spinning round with a 
 hautel of daft callants ; to miss this sight 
 is nae sae muckle loss ony day, and forby 
 a' this is the Sabbath. The Colonel will
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 81 
 
 gie us a broiled bane and a saut herring and 
 a braw bowl of punch, and w'se hae a 
 canny crack anent auld-lang-syne, when 
 he and I baith kenned yere uncle weeL" 
 
 
 ? ':-: 
 
 S9c 
 
 'giiiiv 
 >t ui 
 
 E 5
 
 82 JCJLIA HOWARD, 
 
 ij 3nfiilq lie 
 
 'oLoows oj 
 
 -ii; .^^oii; 10 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 1 ^> ysi! fli baraito 
 
 o fio; 
 
 Theirs was the glee of martial breast, 
 
 And laughter theirs for little jest ; 
 
 .1 JjiLfi 
 With open hand, and brow as free, 
 
 Lovers of wine and minstrelsy. 
 
 SCOTT. 
 
 , v 
 
 THE summer wore on unmarked by any 
 momentous event. The affair of Mollwitz 
 seemed destined to close the campaign it 
 had opened. The two armies held each 
 other in check, but neither ventured on 
 any decided or decisive movement. Fre- 
 derick remained in the camp of Strehlen, 
 while Lord Hyndford, the British minister
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 83 
 
 at his court, laboured, in concert with Mr. 
 Robinson, to effect an accommodation. 
 Maria Theresa had not yet learned that 
 lesson of pliant prudence doubly distaste- 
 ful to her as a queen and a woman ; she 
 refused to accede to Frederick's demand of 
 the cession of Silesia, and Mr. Robinson 
 offered in lieu of that fair province a sum 
 of two million florins and the pro\ince of 
 Austrian Gueldresk. Frederic, in his turn, 
 rejected this compromise, and Robinson 
 returned to Vienna, to wring some further 
 reluctant concessions from the proud daugh- 
 ter of Hapsburg. 
 
 During this period of comparative inac- 
 tivity, the light cavalry alone had still work 
 to do. O'Connor learned his duty, and 
 obtained a practical knowledge of his pro- 
 fession. His gay day-dreams of adven- 
 turous knight-errantry, of bright honour, 
 and quick promotion, were soon dispelled 
 by the rude touch of reality and the hard
 
 84 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 useful lessons of experience. He learned 
 that the soldier is but a minute part of an 
 admirable machine, and that subalterns 
 have but little chance of gaining sudden 
 promotion or distinction, for their services 
 are never noted, except when some few 
 rare opportunities give them the chance of 
 performing some dashing deed of gallant 
 daring. But though the hopes of fame and 
 promotion had receded into due distance, 
 and taken up their proper position in the 
 future, yet he was very happy, and en- 
 joyed his life, thoroughly doing his duty 
 with patient zeal, while looking forward to 
 the slow and steady promotion of the Aus- 
 trian service. 
 
 His brother officers were pleasant, gen- 
 tlemanly fellows, most of them Austrians 
 of rank, Gordon, Mackenzie, and himself 
 being the only foreigners in the regiment. 
 Gordon, though punctiliously strict in all 
 matters pertaining to the service, was
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 85 
 
 kind as a father to the thoughtless lads 
 under his command ; and though grown 
 grey in toil and danger, he preserved un- 
 broken the high spirits and careless gaiety 
 of his youth. He was a noble specimen of 
 that race now extinct the soldiers of for- 
 tune, whose family was the regiment, 
 whose home was the tent, whose country 
 was the camp, whose religion was honour. 
 Mackenzie, full of quaint jibes and keen 
 sarcasm, which derived a touch of humour 
 from his broad Scotch, was at heart as 
 good a fellow as ever belted a sabre. 
 Among the officers, there was a union and 
 harmony which gave to their social inter- 
 course all the unreserved intimacy of 
 brotherly affection. The sparkling and 
 racy effervescence of youthful happiness 
 in which they seemed to exist, their wild 
 love of pleasure, their frolic spirit of fun 
 and jollity, their frank, cordial kindness to 
 each other, and their daring gallantry in
 
 86 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 the field, completely won O'Connor's ad- 
 miration. He was happy. Time, the con- 
 soler, had soothed the anguish with which 
 he had brooded over the loss of all he 
 loved on earth. The cherished remem- 
 brance of his home was no longer a tor- 
 ture to his breast. He could dwell on the 
 last hours of his father's life, consoled by 
 the consciousness that he had soothed and 
 cheered those last hours. He felt that in 
 every thought, and word, and act of his 
 daily life, he was fulfilling the wishes of 
 his father, and holding pure and unsullied 
 the name which was rendered sacred to 
 him because it had been borne by that 
 father whom he had loved with the full 
 ardour of his warm heart. He was de- 
 livered at once and for ever from the 
 harassing vexations of pecuniary embar- 
 rassments ; new interests attached him to 
 the new career opening before him, and 
 he entered again on the march of life with
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 87 
 
 fresh hopes springing in his breast, and 
 young ambition throbbing in his healthful 
 and bounding pulse. 
 
 Neiss was a very pleasant quarter. 
 The society was good, composed as it was 
 of the Bargerstand, with a fair sprinkling 
 of the provincial noblesse, who had left 
 Breslau when the Prussians had drawn the 
 town into a treaty of neutrality. This sort 
 of society suited excellently well the offi- 
 cers of the garrison, who liked the easy 
 lounging habits of provincial life, where 
 their rank ensured them a sort of grateful 
 welcome, and emancipated them from all 
 restraints which could fetter them in the 
 pursuit of any ecentric pleasure, or the 
 perpetration of any madcap frolic. 
 
 The citizens, most of them engaged in 
 trade and manufacture, and many of them 
 very wealthy, exercised a boundless hos- 
 pitality ; the men were generally well-in- 
 formed and sensible, though not very
 
 88 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 polished; the women kind-hearted, gossip- 
 ping, bustling housewives, and the girls 
 ignorant, innocent, merry creatures all in 
 their several ways enjoying their exist- 
 ence with thorough honest complacency. 
 
 It was a soldier's paradise, that good little 
 
 . 
 town. 
 
 Love is at once more and less to a 
 German than to any other rational crea- 
 ture. More, seeing that neither he nor 
 she can exist without having a love affair 
 to employ his or her sentimental fantasies, 
 and to speed the burning of the pipe or 
 the play of the knitting-needles ; less, 
 inasmuch as nowhere are such affairs more 
 ephemeral, or less influential on the future 
 life of the enamoured individual. Every 
 one of O'Connor's brother officers surren- 
 dered himself to the gossamer charms of 
 some evanescent attachment, and young 
 men fresh from the palaces of queenly 
 Prague and imperial Vienna, were quietly
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 89 
 
 domesticated with the good citizens of 
 Neiss, dining at twelve o'clock, assisting 
 in the education of piping bullfinches, 
 winding knitting cotton, and playing 
 round games of forfeits, in which, if they 
 sometimes got a box on the ear from a 
 pretty rosy girl, they had often to kiss the 
 comfortably plump smiling mother, or to 
 fill the father's pipe three times in succes- 
 sion. Allaster himself laughed, danced, 
 and flirted with all the prettiest of the 
 girls, but he shunned those dangerous 
 habits of domestication. He flirted with 
 all, and made love to none. He could not 
 love, and he shrank from being loved. His 
 passions had raged themselves to rest, and 
 he dreaded their awaking, lest they should 
 again inflict agony like that of which the 
 burning sense was yet scarcely healed by 
 the opiate touch of time. He loved Julia 
 still as fondly as ever, and he trusted to 
 her truth. So long as she remained un-
 
 90 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 married, he believed that it was for his 
 sake that she delayed the fulfilment of her 
 engagement with Charley Herbert, and 
 thus believing, no temptation could induce 
 him to swerve from the faith he had sworn 
 to her. A sort of superstition mingled 
 with his reverence for the vow he had 
 plighted her, and he felt, deep in his heart, 
 an inexplicable assurance that if he kept 
 that vow unbroken, Julia would still be 
 his in spite of every obstacle of creed, and 
 law, and absence, and time. He treasured 
 his love and this hope shrined in the 
 secret depth of his soul. No word which 
 could betray it to the ridicule of his com- 
 rades ever passed his lips. To all out- 
 ward appearance thoughtless as them- 
 selves, he surrendered himself, with the 
 versatile character of his race, in seeming 
 abandonment to every scheme of pleasure 
 devised to speed the passing hour. The 
 ball, the race, and the gipsey party sue-
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 91 
 
 ceeded to each other, and filled the lag- 
 ging hours of pause in the struggle of the 
 contending powers. 
 
 The manager of the Prague theatre took 
 advantage of that anomalous sort of truce, 
 and calculating on the patronage of the 
 garrison, brought down his company, and 
 gave operas and plays. As his troup was 
 good, he was pretty successful. 
 
 " Will you sup with me to-night, O'Con- 
 nor V asked Bartenstein, as they lounged 
 on a bench under the lindens on the 
 promenade, smoking their meerschaums 
 and criticising the women who passed 
 before their tribunal at every turn of the 
 walk. 
 
 " When, and where V 1 inquired O'Con- 
 nor, laconically enough. 
 
 " I will call for you after the ballet," 
 said Bartenstein ; " where, matters no- 
 thing." 
 
 3 &il - v '
 
 92 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 " Where, matters much," said O'Connor, 
 dryly. 
 
 " Well, then," said the Count, " since 
 you must know, I will give you the history 
 of the supper. I betted a supper against 
 a pair of gloves with little Adeline, and I 
 lost ; so I give the supper at her house, 
 and I invite the men, she asks the women. 
 La Corelli and the French girl that came 
 out as Hebe last week, Adeline herself, and 
 old Madame Hatzman, as a chaperon for 
 the young ones for the petticoat part of the 
 company." 
 
 _ *',.'!" ., ~i 
 
 " Three pretty women, certainly, and a 
 reverend vice, a grey iniquity to guard 
 them," observed O'Connor ; " now for the 
 
 T> L ' )> 
 
 men, Bartenstem. 
 
 " Adeline's brother, and Hartzman, Er- 
 dody, myself, and you, if you will join 
 us" 
 
 " I stay at home," said O'Connor ; " I
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 93 
 
 should only spoil the party, and be terribly 
 de trop" 
 
 " Nonsense ; be a good fellow for once 
 in your life," persisted Bartenstein." 
 
 " I won't bestow my.tediousness on you, 
 that's flat," said O'Connor. 
 
 " Come, I say," said Bartenstein ; " you 
 can try for the Hebe's heart." 
 
 " Not being an alchemist, I most as- 
 suredly will not waste my time seeking 
 for treasure that does not exist. I cannot 
 afford to buy love ; if I want it I must 
 look for it where I may get it gratis." 
 
 " Domestic felicity and disinterested af- 
 fection, eh !" said Bartenstein, laughing ; 
 " a cottage all over woodbine, and sheep 
 and a watch-dog, and Lottchen or Gret- 
 chen making soup for her husband and 
 her brats ; is this your style \ You have 
 missed your vocation ; you ought to go 
 into the convent of Camenz, for you are
 
 94 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 far too good for this delightful, devilish, 
 wicked, witching world of ours." 
 
 " Not a bit too good, but far too poor 
 and too proud to buy or beg the smile of a 
 dancer. I would as soon ask a shopkeeper 
 for a present of his wares." 
 
 " Well, I must ask Von Harrach in 
 your place," said Bartenstein, as he strolled 
 away with a look of contemptuous pity for 
 O'Connor's bad taste. 
 
 Allaster smiled with a half scornful mer- 
 riment, and yet he pitied Bartenstein, who 
 was a right good fellow, but too honest to 
 get safe out of the bad hands he had fallen 
 into. 
 
 " A gude resolution gin ye can haud up 
 till it," said Mackenzie, who, coming up 
 at the moment, overheard a part of the 
 colloquy. " But I misdoubt they'll laugh 
 ye out o' it sune, my puir laddie." 
 
 " Never !" said O'Connor, " never ! I 

 
 JULIA HOWARD. 95 
 
 act according to my own will, and under 
 heaven there breathes not the man who 
 who could lead me one hair's breadth aside 
 from my chosen path. Why, Mac, I think 
 a man is a thorough fool who could be 
 laughed or rallied out of any resolution he 
 had once avowed." 
 
 " For all that, you showed the better 
 part of valour when you refused that daft 
 callant's invitation. I have a misgiving 
 that poor Bartenstein will ruin himself 
 with that ne'er-do-weel hizzie. She has 
 a brother that plays high, and is always in 
 a run of luck. Last winter, at Prague* 
 they won every florin that young Gentz of 
 the Taafifes' had, and I was obliged to lend 
 him money to pay his bill at the Weisser 
 Boss. Those dancers are born deils, and 
 this baggage is a Frenchwoman, forbye." 
 
 " I refused to go because I knew it 
 would end in high play, and as I would 
 not play, I did not like to be a spoil-sport
 
 96 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 among them. As for me, I can trust my- 
 self. I can look on at play for ever, and 
 never feel the least desire to shake a 
 zwanziger." 
 
 " That is a' weel and gude," said the 
 canny Scot, " until you have drawn the 
 second flash of that cursed ruster, but 
 there you cease to be your own master, 
 and you begin to think it a fine thing to 
 outdo every folly you see practised around 
 you ; and besides, these Jezebels wad lure 
 ye to hell." 
 
 " No, Mac, no !" said O'Connor ; " nei- 
 ther man nor woman, neither seduction nor 
 sarcasm, conld make my heart throb with 
 a quicker pulse. And as to the brown 
 flask, I have a good head, and ruster is 
 not quite so strong as Galway whiskey." 
 
 " Well, as you shear off from poor 
 Bartenstein, will ye bear up for my 
 quarters 1" said Mackenzie. " At ten 
 o'clock you'll find me ready for you, with a
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 97 
 
 devilled fowl and a jug of toddy. Will 
 you come V 
 
 " I am your man, Mac/' said Allaster ; 
 " and now I must ride over to Muhldorf 
 to see the Jaeger, who has the care of 
 Graf Hochberg's old schloss. I must have 
 a target put up in the court of the castle ; 
 we are going there to-morrow, there is to 
 be a gipsey party and a shooting match ; 
 we got it up yesterday while you were 
 away with those maps for the Marshall." 
 
 " And get him to mow the long grass 
 in the court, barring ye want to make the 
 leddies gang about like the lassie in the 
 sang-buke, that kilted her gown of green 
 satin, and kilted it up to her knee." 
 
 " And the women here have such devil- 
 ish thick ankles that I guess I shall not 
 be able to bring that fashion into favour 
 either with the women or the men. I'll 
 just take your advice, Mac ; I will mow 
 the grass, and have the ritter saal dressed 
 
 VOL. n. p
 
 98 JULIA HOWAED. 
 
 up with lamps and branches for the 
 dance/' 
 
 They sauntered on to the barrack, where 
 they found Fritz walking the Sicilian mare 
 to and fro while waiting for his master. 
 O'Connor mounted, and rode to Muhldorf, 
 a pretty village on the road to Ottmachau. 
 The jaeger was not at home, and Allaster 
 rode on to the ruined Castle of Hoch- 
 berg. The forest road wound along the 
 slopes of the hills, and through the thick 
 pine-woods, until it led the traveller to 
 the noble ruin, which, though crumbling 
 beneath the hand of time, and shattered 
 by the ravage of former wars, yet looked 
 down in frowning grandeur over the culti- 
 vated plains spread out hi all the peaceful 
 luxuriance of their summer beauty. 
 
 In the grass-grown court of the feudal 
 stronghold, Allaster found Count Hoch- 
 berg's jaeger, and after having visited the 
 ruins, from the high turret to the sub- 
 
 5
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 99 
 
 terranean dungeon, with its doors of stone 
 turning on pivots, he settled everything 
 for the party which the hussars were to 
 give to the hospitable people of Neisse. 
 Herder, the jaeger, was an intelligent man, 
 with that native refinement of thought 
 and taste which a man preserves untar- 
 nished in the deep woods and the sweet 
 and solemn society of nature. He entered 
 into all Allaster's plans for the fete, and 
 promised to execute all his orders. Sissy 
 was grazing among the wild shrubs in the 
 court, but at her master's call she came to 
 his side, and licked his hand with the fawn- 
 ing playfulness of a dog. 
 
 " Bitte um vergebung gnadiger herr,"said 
 the jaeger ; " but let me inform you that I 
 saw two suspicious looking fellows in the 
 woods yesterday. I and my junker were 
 going our round, and we came upon them 
 as they sat by their fire in the millstone 
 quarry. When I warned them off Count 
 
 F 2
 
 100 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 Hochberg's lands, they said they were 
 tinkers ; but I do not believe them, for 
 instead of an ass and kettles, I saw four 
 good muskets and a couple of rough Bohe- 
 mian ponies near their fire. You should 
 be on your guard, mein herr." 
 
 " They were civil to you, as it appears, 
 Herder, so why should I trouble my head 
 with fear of them 1" 
 
 " They dare not meddle with a jaeger. 
 They know we never carry money, except 
 one silver piece to make a bullet of, if we 
 chance to meet a wahr wolf, or a witch 
 hare that milks the cows ; and besides, 
 they know that they could not find a 
 hiding-place in the deepest thicket of the 
 forest, if they were at feud with the bonny 
 green jackets. After all, perhaps, the 
 reason why they let us alone was that 
 Fritzchen and I had our rifles and three 
 stout bloodhounds with us, so that we were 
 a match for those four rascals."
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 101 
 
 ** If not poachers," said O'Connor, " they 
 must be some of the rascals who hang on 
 the skirts of both armies, and plunder 
 friend and foe indiscriminately, when they 
 do not gain enough booty by stripping the 
 dead on the field. Give me your powder- 
 horn, Herder." 
 
 He shook the priming from the pans of 
 his pistols, primed them afresh, looked to 
 the flints, tightened his girths, and mounted 
 his mare, saying, " So now I am ready for 
 them, be they poachers or marauders. 
 Good-bye, Herder." 
 
 " Wildschutgen or araskrachen, they 
 are vermin all the same !" cried Herder ; 
 " so a shot won't be thrown away on them, 
 mein herr/' 
 
 The summer day was verging towards 
 evening : from the bed of the river, and 
 from the glassy surface of the small pond- 
 like lakes which fill the hollows among the 
 lower spars of the Riesengebirge, the white
 
 102 JULIA HOWAED. 
 
 mist rose in wreaths along the hills, the 
 westering sun tinting its filmy veil with a 
 rosy flush. The women were spreading 
 their webs of linen on the grass to bleach 
 in the dew ; the ploughmen were urging 
 their teams along the last furrows of the 
 steaming fields, and the cattle were wend- 
 ing homeward, obedient to the calls of the 
 many-toned horns of the herdsmen, whose 
 wild soothing melody sighed plaintively 
 through the arches of the forest. O'Con- 
 nor's path lay deep in the woods, but some- 
 times a glade cleared of brushwood, open- 
 ing upon the fair scene we have sketched, 
 allowed him to behold it like a beautiful pic- 
 ture framed in by the arching tracery of the 
 boughs of the oaks skirting the forest. He 
 paused for a moment to gaze on the happy 
 living world, but his mare pawed impa- 
 tiently, and with her short whinnying neigh 
 called on her master to proceed. He 
 stroked her neck and rode on. His path
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 103 
 
 plunged deeper into the wood ; the pillar 
 trunks of the pines rose around him, their 
 heavy canopy of dark foliage closed over- 
 head, and scarce a sunbeam could pierce 
 the vault of verdure to fling a line of 
 golden light on the pale mosses and creeping 
 ivy which robed the forest earth. He 
 rode on with loosened rein, in calm enjoy- 
 ment of the deep quiet of the forest, until 
 he was roused by a violent start of his 
 mare. He looked up, a wounded stag 
 crossed the road ; the poor animal was 
 sobbing life away in convulsive gasps, and 
 the blood was pouring from his throat and 
 from a wound in his flank. He had shed 
 his antlers, so that he could not have re- 
 ceived the wounds in a fight with one of 
 his dappled rivals, and it was not the 
 season for a fair sportsman to molest the 
 game. 
 
 " Ha ! that is the handy-work of Her- 
 der's friends !" muttered O'Connor, for he
 
 104 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 knew that none but a poacher would fire 
 on a stag out of season. He urged his 
 willing charger to a better pace, as he did 
 not want to meet the fellows, and soon 
 reached the brow of a hill on the verge of 
 the open country. He rode slowly down 
 the descent ; at the foot of the slope there 
 was a turn, where the track wound sharply 
 round a projecting rock, almost a cliff, 
 which overhung the road on the left hand, 
 while a shaggy copse growing over an 
 abandoned quarry, fringed it with a tangled 
 screen on the other side. A thin blue line 
 of smoke was curling up from the quarry ; 
 it caught O'Connor's eye, and again Her- 
 der's warning recurred to his memory. 
 Pressing his knees to the saddle with a 
 firmer gripe, he drew up his rein, and 
 grasped his heavy hunting whip by the 
 end, winding the lash round his wrist, so 
 as to have the loaded head for a weapon. 
 He cast a vigilant glance on the sleeping
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 105 
 
 and seemingly tenantless wood. As he 
 approached the rock, two men sprang out 
 of the quarry, and placed themselves right 
 in his path. They appeared to be un- 
 armed, and wore the long loose frock coats 
 and steeple-crowned hats of the wandering 
 Sclavonian tinkers ; weather-beaten, strong- 
 built fellows they were both, and every 
 line in their dark faces bore the stamp of 
 reckless villainy and profligacy, rendered 
 ferocious by want and suffering. One of 
 them, as he jumped into the road, whistled 
 long and shrill, and a faint distant whistle 
 answered his call. 
 
 f\i*-t *' 97^ 2 TOflfloO'v^i 
 
 O Connor saw he was in a dangerous 
 position, but well mounted, well armed, 
 
 and on his guard, he was ready to meet 
 
 ,, , , . , ,. 
 
 the odds against him. 
 
 One of the men held out his hat for 
 alms like a wandergesell, and said in a 
 drawling voice, which, however, had more 
 of menace than of entreaty in its tone, 
 
 F 5
 
 106 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 " For the love of St. John of Nepomm, 
 noble Count, give us a couple of zwandigers 
 to help us on our journey." 
 
 As he spoke, he placed his hand steal- 
 thily on the bridle-rein, 
 
 " Keep off, fellow/ 7 said O'Connor sternly, 
 raising his whip at the same time ; but the 
 other ruffian sprang forward, closed with 
 O'Connor, and grasping his bridle arm at 
 the wrist, drew a pistol from his breast, 
 and said, 
 
 " The purse, here ! or by all the devils 
 you are a dead man I" 
 
 " Ha, Richler, you scoundrel !" shouted 
 O'Connor ; " take that \" 
 
 He struck him a stunning blow with the 
 loaded whip ; the bandit reeled beneath 
 the stroke ; O'Connor shook off his relax- 
 ing grasp, and drove the spurs into 
 the flanks of his mare ; with a snort of 
 rage and pain she reared, tore the bridle
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 107 
 
 from the outlaw who had seized it, and 
 plunged madly forward. 
 
 " Hell and damnation, you know us ! 
 I'll stop your mouth !" exclaimed the outlaw. 
 He fired, and the pistol-ball whistled harm- 
 lessly over O'Connor's head. 
 
 O'Connor, quick as thought, wheeled 
 round, drew a pistol from his holsters, and 
 fired. The bandit was in the act of pre- 
 senting his second pistol, when O'Connor's 
 ball passed through his head ; he sprang up, 
 and fell dead at the feet of the mare. All 
 this occupied scarcely a moment's space, 
 for O'Connor's thought and deed had the 
 quickness of instinct. O'Connor looked 
 on the dead man, and saw that he was 
 also a deserter from his own regiment ; 
 the man stunned by the blow of the whip, 
 Richler, had deserted from Mackenzie's 
 troop but very few days before. He was 
 recovering, and while watching O'Connor's
 
 108 JULIA HOWAED. 
 
 movements with dull eyes, was afraid to 
 move a limb. At this moment O'Connor 
 saw two men running through the wood 
 at full speed. He did not like to wait for 
 this reinforcement to the enemy, so he 
 gave the rein to his charger, and dashed 
 forward at a gallop. He did not depart 
 too soon, for in a moment after he heard 
 voices answering each other in the wood. 
 
 On sped the mare. O'Connor looked 
 round with that keen eye for the lie of the 
 country which generally belongs to a Gal- 
 way rider. He saw that the road from 
 where he then was, made a long sweep, and 
 then came nearly parallel on the opposite 
 slope. The distance from one point to the 
 opposite point was scarcely a quarter of a 
 mile in a line as the crow flies, but by the 
 winding wheel-track it was more than a 
 mile. From the road where O'Connor 
 stood, the ground fell away in a steep de- 
 scent, and rose as abruptly on the other
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 109 
 
 side ; a few thorns grew on the stony sides 
 of this rugged dell, and in the bottom lay 
 a pond, whence issued a sluggish stream 
 soaking through a reedy swamp. O'Con- 
 nor's decision was prompt as his keen 
 glance. If he followed the winding of the 
 road, the outlaws might strike across the 
 glen, and renew the skirmish on the oppo- 
 site side. 
 
 He turned the Sicilian sharply to the 
 brink, and urged her to the descent of the 
 hill-side. At first she refused it, and 
 started back ; but excited by the voice, 
 hand, and spur of her undaunted rider, she 
 dared the pass with the activity and sure- 
 footedness of a stag. 
 
 Now springing from rock and bank, now 
 almost sliding on her haunches, while the 
 stones displaced by her hoofs rolled down 
 into the glen, she reached the bottom of 
 the descent, dashed across the swamp, 
 though at every stride she sunk over her
 
 110 JULIA HOWARD, 
 
 posterns, and came at the brook. It was 
 wide, and the banks were broken and 
 rotten ; but both she and her rider seemed 
 to feel the quickening excitement of a fox- 
 hunt in their boiling pulses. Cheered by 
 O'Connor's wild cry of encouragement, 
 she cleared the water, and gallantly 
 breasted the steep beyond. The summit 
 and the road were nearly gained, when the 
 report of a musket rang sharply through 
 the air, and a ball passed through O'Con- 
 nor's left arm, inflicting a sharp flesh 
 wound. 
 
 " On, Sissy, on !" he cried. She strug- 
 gled forward and upward. The hill was 
 steep, and the stony soil afforded but 
 treacherous footing; but on she went, and 
 straining every sinew to her task, reached 
 the road, blown, panting, with the foam 
 wreaths on her mouth, and the mire of the 
 swamp staining her heaving flanks. " Gal- 
 lantly done, my beauty ; you are a sweet
 
 JULIA HOWARD. Ill 
 
 little fencer !" said O'Connor. A few mi- 
 nutes more placed him out of danger, and 
 he then pulled up, and allowed the mare 
 to breathe from her exertions. 
 
 His wound, at the moment he had re- 
 ceived it, caused him scarcely any painful 
 sensation; but he now had time to think 
 of it. The blood was flowing fast down 
 his arm, and a dull numbing pain began 
 to be felt as the wound grew stiff, and a 
 burning thirst parched his lip and throat. 
 He bethought himself of the Jaeger's house 
 at Muhldorf, where he could have his arm 
 bandaged, and obtain a bowl of goat s milk. 
 He did not, moreover, like the neighbour- 
 hood of the woods which harboured such 
 villainous company, and where he was 
 obliged to look with jealous vigilance into 
 every thicket of brushwood which could 
 afford a cover to a lurking assassin ; so he 
 turned joyfully into the first wood-cutter's 
 path which led to the open country, and
 
 112 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 soon reached the skirts of the too hos- 
 pitable wood, and saw the cultivated 
 fields spread out before him in all their 
 peaceful busy loveliness. 
 
 The Jaeger's house stood a little apart 
 from the village, between the church with 
 its tapering spire, glittering in the sunny 
 air of evening, and the old ivied mill, 
 whose idle wheel seemed to wait the ri- 
 pening harvest which should wake it again 
 to life and cheerful toil. Orchards and 
 gardens surrounded the forester's dwell- 
 ing, and the path to it wound among the 
 old apple-trees, beneath whose laden 
 boughs O'Connor was obliged to bend his 
 head to the mane of his charger. As he 
 bent beneath the fragrant arches of the 
 fruit trees, he heard the low deep tones of 
 a well-known voice, and looking in the 
 direction whence the sound came, a very 
 interesting picture met his eyes. 
 
 On a stone bench beneath a trellis, fes-
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 113 
 
 tooned with the twining wreaths of the 
 hop, sat a beautiful peasant girl, fresh, 
 plump, rosy, with soft blue eyes, and a 
 profusion of curls and plaits of paly 
 golden hair wound round her head. Hers 
 were the face and figure which might in 
 time assume an appearance of buxom 
 coarseness, but as yet health and youth 
 only gave to her a ripe luxuriance of 
 beauty which was very delicious. Her 
 dress, a petticoat striped in blue and 
 scarlet, a black boddice laced with silver 
 cord, short white sleeves, and a linen ker- 
 chief drawn in a multitude of small plaits 
 over her bosom, showed the rich symmetry 
 of her figure. Reclined on the grass at 
 her feet, with her hand in his, lay Karl 
 von Turkheim. His eyes were fixed on 
 her blushing face, and a smile, half plea- 
 sure, half triumph, was lurking under his 
 moustache, while his lip whispered in 
 

 
 114 JULIA HOWAED. 
 
 the low, earnest tone of passion the vows 
 he had whispered to many a one be- 
 fore. The girl's look and attitude sud- 
 denly changed as O'Connor passed before 
 her. 
 
 " Ah, Liebe Gott !" she exclaimed, and 
 started up, blushing to the temples and 
 trembling like a newly-caught leveret. 
 
 Karl sprang to his feet and turned 
 fiercely on the intruder; but recognizing 
 O'Connor, he laughed, and told him that 
 he would meet him at the village inn. He 
 then turned again to the girl, who had 
 sunk back on the bench and hid her face 
 in her hands ; " Fear not, Liebchen," he 
 whispered, " I will see you at sunset to- 
 morrow, sweet Clarchen. This is my 
 dearest friend ; you must say a friendly 
 word to him when next you meet him; 
 and now, mein schatz, lebe wohl." 
 
 O'Connor, meanwhile, made his way
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 115 
 
 to Herder's cottage. He had often taken 
 Herder with him on fishing expeditions 
 among the trout streams in the forest, so 
 that he was well known in the cottage, 
 and a great favourite with the good-hu- 
 moured, bustling Frau Herder. She soon 
 dressed his wound with the skill she had 
 acquired in medicating the hurts of her 
 husband; and instead of the goats' milk 
 which he asked for, she produced a half 
 flask of carlowitzer, which she prescribed 
 on account of the loss of blood. O'Con- 
 nor offered the little woman a gold ducat, 
 which she refused, so he put it slilj into 
 the tiny hand of her youngest hope which 
 was asleep in its cradle, and then gal- 
 lantly kissing the brown and yet ruddy 
 cheek of the dame, as he had often 
 done in Herder's presence, he mounted 
 and rode up the straggling street of the 
 hamlet. 
 
 " Well, Karl !" he said, when they met,
 
 116 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 " we have had a busy day ; you love-mak- 
 ing, and " 
 
 " Hist !" said Karl in English, as he 
 mounted his horse before the inn door; 
 " speak English ! The girl is Herder's 
 daughter." 
 
 " I am sorry I intruded on your tryste," 
 said O'Connor. 
 
 "Be a good fellow for once, Allaster, 
 and keep my secret," said Turkheim ; " I 
 do not wish that any of our fellows should 
 know of my affair here/' 
 
 "I thought," said O'Connor, laughing 
 satirically, " that these conquests were 
 only made to be proclaimed. Judging of 
 our fellows' intentions, by the way they 
 boast of their successes, I was about to 
 suggest the propriety of inscribing the 
 women's names on the colours, along with 
 all the other victories. It would save a 
 world of trouble, and ensure the desired 
 publicity."
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 117 
 
 " I do not want to play the prude/' said 
 Turkheim ; " but there is something in 
 this business that I cannot tell you ; and 
 besides, Sternberg of the Cuirassiers is 
 the Countess Zichy's brother; he never 
 liked me; and if he found me out, he 
 would make a devil of a business about it. 
 But, good heavens, Allasterl your sleeve 
 is soaked with blood." 
 
 " I have got a ball through my arm," 
 said O'Connor ; " I was attacked near 
 Hochberg by robbers, Wagner and Richler, 
 who deserted from us last month ; it 
 seems they have taken to the highway. I 
 knocked down Richler with my whip, the 
 other rascal fired at me ; so I saved the 
 Provost Marshal a job, and shot him. 
 Their comrades were coming up, so I had 
 to run for it, and to be quit of them the 
 sooner I crammed little Sis at the wolf- 
 schlucke, she took me over it in her usual 
 style, but in ascending the bank the fel-
 
 118 JULIA HOWAKD. 
 
 low got a shot at me, and drilled a hole 
 through my arm ; and now let us get on 
 at our best pace, or the gate will be 
 shut,"
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 119 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The banquet, by the fountain side, 
 While the small birds rejoiced on every bough, 
 The dance that followed, and the noontide slumber, 
 The torches planted in the sparkling grass 
 Where many a syren voice sang down the stars. 
 
 ROGERS. 
 
 THE hussars had asked all the world to 
 their fe'te. The citizens liked the soldier- 
 hosts, and the girls, of course, insisted on 
 the full and due discharge of the paternal 
 and maternal duties of chaperonage, so 
 there was scarcely an invitation refused, 
 and every one came out with the determi-
 
 120 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 nation to be pleased, which insures the 
 success of a gipsy party. The families 
 had their carriages ; and as each of the 
 girls, who were pretty or flirtable, had an 
 avowed lover among the garrison, every 
 lumbering coach had a gallant hussar or 
 dragoon on duty at the door. Two or 
 three young married belles gave their 
 cavaliers seats in their open ealeches, and 
 these happy mortals were envied by all 
 the rest of the spurred and epauletted 
 tribe. A host of the unattached brought 
 up the rear, where the cavalry man, on 
 his high-bred Turk or Arab, curvetted be- 
 side the young cit on his ambling nag, fat 
 and scant of breath, or the infantry man on 
 the showy, broken down hack from the 
 stables of the Pferdephilister. It was a 
 gay and glittering calvacade as it wound 
 along the tortuous track to Hochberg. 
 When they reached the scene of O'Con- 
 nor's encounter with the outlaws, the men
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 121 
 
 scanned with curious eyes the ground, the 
 rock, and the quarry ; while the women, 
 in spite of the courage imparted by the 
 sense of security, numbers, and daylight, 
 looked timidly into the dark vaults of the 
 pine wood, and saw the shadow of a lurk- 
 ing bandit in the shade of every tree. 
 
 On the place of the affray no sign of 
 violence remained, save one dark red stain 
 on the sand, which the summer dews had 
 not effaced. The woods around were 
 mute and still as sleep, but two ravens, 
 wheeling in low circles over the tree tops, 
 sometimes broke the silence with their 
 boding croak. 
 
 " The outlaws have hidden the body in 
 the wood there," said Colonel Gordon, as 
 he pointed to the carrion birds. 
 
 " I would give something," said O'Con- 
 nor, who rode beside the old Colonel, with 
 his arm in a sling ; " I would give some- 
 
 VOL. II. G
 
 122 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 thing to know that I had not done the 
 hangman's duty on that poor wretch." 
 
 " I have always observed that Irishmen 
 hate an execution, however necessary and 
 just," observed Gordon. " As for me, I 
 look on deserters and outlaws as just so 
 many skulking wolves. It is only almost 
 a pity to waste powder on such riff-raff 
 kerls who would finely become a brow tow 
 and a wooddie." 
 
 " Do you mind the burnie, Colonel V 
 said Mackenzie, pointing down into the 
 dell ; ye're a bold rider your ain sel, but 
 ye winna say that brook was not a despe- 
 rate leap." 
 
 "I had rather take the most rasping 
 fence in the Lothians than that swampy 
 stream," said the Colonel; "you are a 
 good horseman, O'Connor." 
 
 "Looking at it now, I think it is a 
 stopper," said O'Connor ; " but when balls
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 123 
 
 are whizzing by a man's ear, he will not 
 draw bridle for a bit of broken ground." 
 
 At that moment the party were riding 
 along a part of the road where high rocks, 
 almost cliffs, covered with tangled under- 
 wood, seemingly almost impenetrable to 
 the agile step of the fox or the lithe wind- 
 ing of the snake. O'Connor was the last 
 of the whole troop, and as he pulled up 
 his horse to shorten a stirrup leather, he 
 remained a few yards behind the Colonel 
 and Mackenzie. A sheet of flame sud- 
 denly glanced from the matted copse 
 crowning the rock, and a bullet cut the air 
 over his bending head. 
 
 " Missed again by Jove !" shouted 
 O'Connor, as he struck the spurs into his 
 horse's sides and turned him at the goat's 
 path which seemed to lead towards the 
 back of the rock where the outlaw lurked. 
 The crevices of the cliffs were too steep 
 and narrow for the horse, so he threw 
 
 o 2
 
 124 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 himself from the saddle, and snatched his 
 pistols from the holsters. Colonel Gor- 
 don, Mackenzie, and the others, who had 
 turned on hearing the report of the shot, now 
 came up at their best speed. The soldiers 
 threw their bridles to the young citizens, 
 and climbed the rocks after O'Connor. 
 His wounded arm was useless, so that the 
 others reached the top of the rocks as 
 soon as he did. The thicket of under- 
 wood appeared to be deserted. They 
 looked into it, thrust their swords through 
 the woven brambles, and even fired a 
 brace of pistols into the bush, but no trace 
 of living being could they find ; and, puz- 
 zled and irritated, they descended to their 
 horses and followed the main body of the 
 cavalcade. O'Connor began not to like 
 his connexion with the outlaws. A brush 
 with an enemy in open day is all well 
 enough, but to feel that your steps are 
 followed by a cowardly assassin is a very
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 125 
 
 unpleasant sensation. To face a boar at 
 bay is a pleasant though dangerous ex- 
 citement, but to know that a wolf is dodg- 
 ing you at night is a misery. 
 
 " This is getting to be a nuisance," said 
 the Colonel ; " I must set the forest-guards 
 to dislodge those fellows. You must take 
 care of yourself, O'Connor, they are mak- 
 ing it a death feud with you." 
 
 " Hang the fellows !" said O'Connor, 
 " they mean to worry me. The next time 
 I meet them I will try to close my account 
 with them finally." 
 
 The Jaeger Herder met the gipseying 
 party at the foot of Hochberg, and mar- 
 shalled the guests to the court of the 
 noble ruin. The grass had been mown, 
 the target set up, the old ritter saal tapes- 
 tried with festoons of wild flowers and 
 pine branches, the broad antlers of stags 
 attached to the quaintly-carved corbels, 
 where sprung the groined arches of the
 
 126 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 roof, supported the torches which were to 
 illuminate the evening dance. On the 
 narrow terrace, extending from the castle 
 wall to the verge of the cliff, mine host of 
 the Stadt Wien had made his prepara- 
 tions, and sat himself on an old fallen tree 
 in a sort of beatified contemplation of the 
 banquet he had set forth, with chevreuil 
 and wild boars' heads, and all the other 
 luxuries of the German kitchen, not for- 
 getting the dark blue forellen of the 
 mountain streams. These solid comforts 
 were flanked by a goodly array of brown 
 tapering flasks of many a vintage, from 
 the luscious Ausbruch of Hungary to the 
 amber dews of the Rheinland vineyards, 
 imperial Tokay, princely Johannisberger, 
 and priestly Hocheimer. But the jolly 
 rotundity of mine host soon rolled itself 
 away from the tables to revolve with su- 
 preme complacency round the moss-grown 
 basin of an ancient fountain which he had
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 127 
 
 filled with sparkling moselle imbedded in 
 ice. 
 
 In the court of the ruin Herder had 
 assembled a band of his comrades in the 
 gentle woodcraft, to try their skill against 
 the officers of the garrison, among whom 
 there were a good sprinkling of capital 
 rifle shots. A fair and joyous group of 
 village maidens, in their gay-coloured gala 
 dresses, sat under the shade of a weeping- 
 birch, each with her small basket of fruit 
 or flowers. The band was at its post, the 
 horses were picketted under the trees, and 
 in laughing groups, or whispering couples, 
 the guests, wandered, climbed, ran, or 
 sauntered through the beautiful wooded 
 cliffs, and forest glades round the feudal 
 stronghold, waking its long silent echoes 
 with the gleeful voices of youth, and love, 
 and mirthful life. 
 
 The rifle-shooting came off before the 
 dinner. O'Connor, who was singularly
 
 128 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 expert in the use of the weapon, was kept 
 out of the lists by his wounded arm ; of 
 the other officers, many were good marks- 
 men, but none of them could rival the 
 Jaegers ; and, among the latter, Herder 
 was celebrated for his peerless skill, and 
 generally acknowledged to be the best 
 shot of the Riesengebirge. After all the 
 competitors had tried their skill of for- 
 tune, with more or less success, he fas- 
 tened a card, the ace of hearts to a tree, 
 and challenged Turkheim, who was the 
 best among the officers, to pick out the 
 figure at the usual distance, two shots to 
 each man. 
 
 Turkheim's first ball cut the bark of the 
 tree, the second took off a corner of the 
 card. 
 
 " I shoot worse each time," said Turk- 
 heim, as he retired from the contest. 
 
 " They are fair shots all, Herr Ritt- 
 meister/' said Herder, laughing ; " but if
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 129 
 
 the mark were a wild boar's head, you 
 would be in danger of feeling his tusks/' 
 He fired as he spoke, and the other 
 jaegers gathered round the tree, and, with a 
 shout of triumph, pointed to the perforated 
 card the heart had vanished. 
 
 "Leave it where it is," said Herder; 
 and he added, nodding to O'Connor as he 
 spoke, " I will give you all a pattern of 
 work, such as a true jaeger need not be 
 ashamed of, and then let who will try it, 
 and let who can beat it." 
 
 He loaded his rifle with more than com- 
 mon care, greasing the leather and driving 
 down the ball with the utmost caution, 
 then slowly raising the clouded barrel, he 
 fired, and the bullet passing through the 
 same hole, lodged over the first in the trunk 
 of the tree. 
 
 " Now, my lads, have at it," he cried, 
 " and see which of you can beat old 
 Herder !" 
 
 G 5
 
 130 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 " You would be a dangerous enemy, 
 Herder," said Turkheim, who never seemed 
 to be comfortable in Herder's company, 
 and yet, by some inexplicable chance, ge- 
 nerally found himself near him during the 
 day. 
 
 " I did nothing out of the common way, 
 then," said the good-humoured woodsman. 
 Lord love you, Captain, I could pick out 
 all the aces in the pack and cover the 
 balls afterwards. The devil could not 
 wish a saint worse luck than to be my 
 target; so it is lucky I have not an enemy 
 in the world." 
 
 Herder was declared conqueror, and he 
 received the prize, a purse netted by the 
 Provincial Chancellor's beautiful wife. 
 The purse was filled by a subscription, and 
 the queen of the feast presented it to the 
 hardy forester, with a smile which many 
 a white jacket envied him. 
 
 The banquet foUowed. It went off like 
 7
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 131 
 
 all gipsey feasts, with laughter and jest. 
 fun and flirtation, a running fire of quiz- 
 zing and raillery, a volley of champagne 
 corks, and equal enjoyment of each and 
 all. When the sun went down the torches 
 were lighted in the old ritter saal, and the 
 dance followed the feast. It was a beau- 
 tiful summer night. The moon already 
 high in heaven became brighter and more 
 bright as the lingering radiance of the 
 gorgeous sunset paled from the sky. Her 
 light silvered the wide shadowy masses of 
 the sleeping woods. The air loaded with 
 dew and with the fragrance of the forest 
 flowers, sighed through the open tracery 
 of the windows of the ancient hall. Bright 
 shone the quivering torchlight over the 
 gallant soldiers and the lovely women, 
 whose presence seemed for a moment to 
 restore the vanished time when power 
 and pomp revelled in those now crumbling 
 walls.
 
 132 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 O'Connor, whose wound prevented his 
 joining in the dance, sat on the window- 
 sill, a pleased though quiet spectator. 
 
 " This scene reminds me of the opening 
 of the Decameron," he said. " Ours is a 
 happy life, Mackenzie ; and those bright 
 hours of a soldier's career embody all the 
 romance that yet exists in the work-day 
 world." 
 
 " True," said Mackenzie ; " pleasure is a 
 happy thing for young men like you, laddie, 
 and a soldier's life is a happy one for you. 
 But still there is a dark reverse to the 
 medal. Here am I now nae better than a 
 withered pine that winna grow green in 
 the simmer sun. I have nae kin and nae 
 country. I have warstled with the world, 
 and I hae gotten my koup, but to gain 
 that I have lived amang strangers, and I 
 maun dee amang them, and rest in a lone 
 grave on a foreign field. That's the com- 
 mon lot of poor devils like us, O'Connor."
 
 JULIA HOWAED. 133 
 
 " I have no country, I have no kindred," 
 said O'Connor ; " the Austrian camp will 
 be my home, and a soldier's grave, or 
 the slow but sure promotion of the Aus- 
 trian army will be my reward for my ser- 
 vice." 
 
 " If ye are alone in the warld's waste, 
 this will suit ye weel, Allaster," said Mac- 
 kenzie, whose thoughts had wandered back 
 over long years. He rarely allowed them 
 such liberty, and now that they had crept 
 from his control, he could not recall them. 
 " When I hunted the deer in Glen Dhu, 
 there was a bonnie lassie that I loved 
 weel, and she looked on me kindly ; even 
 yet I think I see her smile and the blink 
 of her saft blue eye. She had na tocher, 
 and I had - nothing to offer her but luve 
 and pooreith, and her kin wad nae hear o' 
 it. Sae we plighted our troth to each 
 other, and I left her to seek fortune in the 
 wars. And when I had won what would
 
 134 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 enable me to marry my bonnie lassie, I 
 went back to Scotland, and found her true 
 to me, though sore her kin had pressed 
 her to forget me and marry ; but she held 
 her plighted troth to her lover. And we 
 met, and gaed down by the burnie, and 
 sat under the auld birk-tree, and pued the 
 gowans as we first used to do lang syne ; 
 but death was in my Annie's breast, sorrow 
 and pining had done their work, and on 
 the day we were to have been wedded I 
 saw her laid in the kirk-yard. And sae 
 that is the life of a soldier of fortune/' 
 
 " The jaegers are dancing with the pea- 
 sant girls," cried Turkheim, coming to the 
 window in exuberant spirits. " Come 
 out, Bartenstein come out, Erdody, and 
 let us have a waltz. Come out, Allaster, 
 and give us the sanction of your venerable 
 presence." 
 
 The music ceased, the parting healths 
 were drunk after the last dance was ended.
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 135 
 
 and then began the merry confusion of de- 
 parture. Horses were harnessed, ladies 
 cloaked and shawled, hands were pressed 
 in the bustle, and eyes or even lips met in 
 stolen and transitory bliss. The compa- 
 nionships of the various parties were ar- 
 ranged as chance, or convenience, or the 
 silent agreement of responsive feelings di- 
 rected. The carriages wound slowly down 
 the hill, the horsemen followed, the jaegers 
 and peasant girls turned into the shorter 
 forest path leading to Muhldorf, and the 
 weird grey ruins of Hockberg lay once 
 more silent and deserted ; the voice of the 
 deep woods and the whispering of their 
 heaving foliage alone sounding among 
 the crumbling towers sentinelled by the 
 bat and the owl sailing athwart the white 
 moonlight in their circling flight. 
 
 Allaster and the other officers rode 
 along in silence which contrasted with the 
 remembered merriment of the morning.
 
 136 JULIA HOWAED. 
 
 The languor which follows the joyous ex- 
 citement of a day of pleasure exerted its 
 depressing influence on every one. The 
 effect of this reaction became more marked 
 every moment, and when they reached 
 Niesse, and were admitted, the guests dis- 
 persed in silence to their respective domi- 
 ciles, and the officers rode on to the bar- 
 racks. Von Harrach m6t them in the 
 yard; having been on duty he had not 
 been to Hochberg. 
 
 " Good news, Colonel !" he exclaimed, 
 " we shall have some work immediately." 
 
 " Where ! where ! how do you know V 
 was shouted on all sides. 
 
 " I can only tell you what I know," said 
 Harrach. " I supped with the Command- 
 ant, who told me that the negociations are 
 broken off; neither the Queen nor Frede- 
 rick will treat further of the peace, so that 
 we shall be allowed at last to wipe out the 
 stain of Mollwitz."
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 137 
 
 " Glorious, by Jove !" exclaimed O'Con- 
 nor. 
 
 " Hoch lebe das traus Oesterreich !" 
 exclaimed the veteran Colonel ; and at 
 once a long, wild cheer burst forth, as like 
 one man they echoed his shout of loyalty. 
 
 OJ [ir> j\ yi - 
 .[ Oil" v^'L. 
 
 ja -. ....: A j 
 
 ..'-: ,- 

 
 138 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Twas bustle in the court below 
 Mount and march forward ! forth they go. 
 Steeds neigh and trample all around ; 
 Steel rings, spears glimmer, trumpets sound ! 
 
 ROKEBY. 
 
 THE feverish fatigue caused by his 
 wound, which though not dangerous, had 
 been irritated by the excitement of the 
 fete, and by the treacherous strength of 
 the mellow tokay, held O'Connor sleepless 
 and restless during the night ; but after 
 the surgeon had dressed his arm in the 
 morning, he fell into a sleep which lasted
 
 JULIA HOWAKD. 139 
 
 unbroken until he was roused by Macken- 
 zie's voice. 
 
 " There is something to do the day !" he 
 exclaimed, as he entered the room. " Are 
 ye on the sick list, laddie T 
 
 " No, no, ready for anything, fun or 
 fighting, from pitch and toss to man- 
 slaughter !" answered O'Connor. 
 
 " Then dress quickly, and tell your 
 fellow to feed your horses and get your 
 pack ready." 
 
 " What are we to do T inquired Al- 
 laster. 
 
 " My certie I canna tell ye. I only 
 ken that an orderly has brought despatches 
 from Neeperg, both for Commandant 
 Roth and for our Colonel, and that Gor- 
 don has given me orders to have my troop 
 paraded for service, and to take rations for 
 two days. I met Stilling in the yard, and 
 asked him were you fit for duty 1 he says 
 not. But I just thought I'd speer at your
 
 140 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 ainsell, for cases have been scarce of late, 
 so your wound is a windfall for the old 
 anatomist, and by good management he 
 may keep you on a month or so for his 
 private amusement. He's a canny chiel, 
 the doctor." 
 
 " For as canny as he is, I'll be hanged 
 if he make a perquisite of me," said O'Con- 
 nor, who was dressing as well as he could 
 with one arm. " If you should see Fritz, 
 send him to me, Mac." 
 
 O'Connor found the troop drawn up in 
 the square. Many of the officers of the 
 garrison were lounging about in groups, in 
 impatient expectation that some news 
 would transpire. The citizens were throng- 
 ing in crowds to watch the movements of 
 the troops. A vague but general feeling 
 of undefined anticipation seemed to per- 
 vade the town and all that were therein, 
 civil or military. The soldiers not on 
 duty, instead of dispersing themselves
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 141 
 
 through the town as usual, lingered in 
 groups about the barrack discussing 
 the probable results of the movements 
 which might be in contemplation, and 
 ever as they talked, they listened with 
 eager desire for the deep warning roll of 
 the drum, or the thrilling call of the 
 cavalry bugle. As yet no order had been 
 given except to Mackenzie, no men except 
 his troop appeared under arms, and yet 
 a conviction had been communicated 
 throughout the whole force in Neisse that 
 the Marshal meant to rouse himself from 
 his lethargy, and make at last some bold 
 and decisive movement. This presenti- 
 ment was universal and unaccountable as 
 the silent hush of listening expectancy with 
 which all nature awaits the coming thun- 
 der-storm. It was not alone the wild 
 ardour and longing for the field which 
 seems innate in soldierly spirits, that ani- 
 mated the Austrian army. It was a thirst
 
 142 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 for vengeance, and a savage sense of 
 manly shame rankling in their breasts 
 since the day of Mollwitz, where their ve- 
 teran war-worn legions and tried generals 
 had bent before the drill-formed soldiers, 
 and yielded to the untried king of the new- 
 made Prussian monarchy. They burned 
 to efface that stain, and for months past 
 both men and officers, like bloodhounds in 
 the leash with their game in view, had 
 chafed against the apathy which held 
 them in dishonourable inactivity in face of 
 the enemy. 
 
 " There he is ! there he comes !" cried 
 Turkheim, as the Colonel rode into the 
 square, accompanied by an officer of the 
 Marshal's staff. 
 
 The aide-de-camp's practised eye scan- 
 ned the fine body of troopers who sat 
 their hardy horses with the quiet, deter- 
 mined look of tried soldiers. There they 
 were, the veterans of Italy and of the mili-
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 143 
 
 tary frontier, and the young soldiers who 
 longed to imitate their old comrades, and 
 all alike anxious for the word which should 
 send them forth to the field, to fight the 
 battle of their invaded country and their 
 noble queen. A stern smile of soldierly 
 pride gleamed athwart the weatherbeaten 
 face of Mackenzie when he caught the 
 look of approbation with which the staff- 
 officer examined his brave fellows. 
 
 " Here are your instructions, Captain 
 Mackenzie," he said ; " you will proceed 
 towards Strehlen, to observe the enemy. 
 Take the Munsterberg road, by which the 
 distance is about six miles. Approach the 
 enemy's position as closely as you can with 
 prudence venture. If you fall in with any 
 of his outposts you may attack them, if 
 isolated and not superior to your troop in 
 force. If supported or strongly posted, avoid 
 a collision, which could only compromise the 
 safety of your troop and impede the per-
 
 144 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 formance of the duty for which you are 
 sent out. If possible, reconnoitre the 
 country on the enemy's flank as far as 
 Schweidnitz and the Zoltenberg. You 
 will thence proceed to Frankenstein, and 
 make your reports to the Marshal/' He 
 then added in a louder tone, " The Mar- 
 shal relies on your well-known zeal, and 
 on the daring and activity of your men 
 for the performance of this duty with 
 all the boldness and celerity consistent 
 with the safety of your troop, and the 
 unimpaired effective condition of both men 
 and horses." 
 
 The men heard these words, and urged 
 by a sudden headlong impulse of proud 
 satisfaction, responded by a long wild 
 cheer, while every hand grasped-the sabre's 
 hilt, as if the enemy were before them and 
 their bugles were sounding the charge. Mac- 
 kenzie bowed low ; while his hard features 
 expanded, and his keen grey eyes lighted
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 145 
 
 up with the glow of honest, manly plea- 
 sure in even this slight recognition of his 
 long services. 
 
 " We have got the route, Mac," said 
 Gordon, when the aide-de-camp was gone. 
 The Marshal is at Frankenstein, and we 
 are ordered to take up an advanced posi- 
 tion in the village between Ruchenbach 
 and Nimptsch. I believe the Marshal in- 
 tends to look after the Breslau people, and 
 thrash them out of their humbug neutrality. 
 At all events you do not return to this 
 town, so you had better give your orders 
 to your servants as to your kit and your 
 nags. Tell this to O'Connor and Von 
 Harrack" 
 
 A few minutes sufficed to give the ne- 
 cessary orders. The officers fell in, Mac- 
 kenzie gave the word to wheel into column, 
 and the troop moved forward on the road 
 to Munsterberg. 
 
 The country bore but few and slight 
 
 VOL. II. H
 
 146 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 traces of war and its attendant ravages. 
 The Austrians, being in the territory of 
 the Queen, had not plundered their fellow- 
 subjects ; they observed the most strict 
 discipline, paying for everything, even to 
 the green forage for the horses, and taking 
 their billets in the way least vexatious to 
 the peasants and citizens. On the other 
 hand, the Prussians observed a discipline 
 not a whit less rigorous. Frederick looked 
 on Silesia not merely as the theatre of 
 war, but as a future province of his king- 
 dom ; he sedulously sought to gain the 
 affection of the people ; he respected their 
 liberties, and consulted their interest, pro- 
 tecting by his stern enforcement of his 
 commands the persons and properties of 
 his future subjects from every outrage. 
 The effect of his policy was soon made 
 visible by the conduct of the Silesians. 
 While all other inhabitants of the wide- 
 spread dominions of Austria, though dif-
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 147 
 
 ferent in race, and blood, and language, 
 were united in the brotherhood of patriot- 
 ism, and the universal loyalty to the 
 daughter of Hapsburg, the Silesian re- 
 mained a calm and impassive spectator of 
 the struggle, although his own fair pro- 
 vince was to be the prize of the victor. 
 But there was more of policy than of in- 
 difference in this apparent apathy to the 
 contest on whose result depended the 
 allotment of his allegiance. Religion, as 
 well as interest, had its full influence iu 
 this conjunction. The commercial in- 
 terests of Silesia were by nature identified 
 with those of Prussia ; but a common 
 faith was even a more stringent bond of 
 unity between them. The Protestant 
 people of Silesia were blended with the 
 descendants of the Protestants of Bohemia, 
 whom Ferdinand had driven into exile, 
 after the battle of the White Mountain, 
 where the laws and the faith, the liberties 
 
 H 2
 
 148 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 and the lives of the Bohemians were 
 trampled under foot by the bigot emperor. 
 Time had rolled on in vain ; the remem- 
 brance of that day lay deep in the heart 
 of the Silesians, and led them to look on 
 the Prussians as avengers and deliverers, 
 rather than as enemies,, q f jm > , 
 
 Passing by Munsterberg, Mackenzie pro- 
 ceeded towards Strehlen. He soon en- 
 tered the district which had been the 
 scene of the operations preceding the affair 
 of Mollwitz. The silent influence of the 
 changing seasons had obliterated every 
 trace of the struggle. The peasants pur- 
 sued their rural labours undisturbed by 
 the threatening neighbourhood of hostile 
 armies. The peaceful furrow of the plough 
 had effaced the scars of war from the 
 teeming bosom of the earth, and over the 
 fields so lately torn up by the passage of 
 cavalry and artillery, the corn was waving 
 rich and uninjured. The peasants, as
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 149 
 
 they mowed their luxuriant hay crop, 
 while waiting the ripening harvest, could 
 hear the roar of cannon, and the inspiring 
 sound of martial music echoing through 
 their quiet vallies, and marking the hours 
 when the parade or review presented the 
 mimic pomp and pride of war in the Prus- 
 sian camp. 
 
 Mackenzie obtained some information 
 from the peasants, but though they an- 
 swered his questions fairly and frankly, he 
 could perceive easily enough that the 
 strong current of popular feeling was set- 
 ting in favour of Frederick. Towards 
 evening Mackenzie had gained a perfect 
 knowledge of the positions of the enemy. 
 The Prussians were cantoned in the town 
 of Strehlen and the villages round, and had 
 thrown up some works to cover their posi- 
 tion, which, though hastily executed, were 
 well planned, and strong enough to resist 
 a sudden dash from the Austrians. Ac-
 
 150 JULIA HOWAED. 
 
 cording to the statements of the peasants, 
 Frederick was assiduously occupied in re- 
 mounting and remodelling his cavalry, 
 which, besides being originally far inferior 
 to his infantry, had been severely handled 
 at Mollwitz. 
 
 The sun was setting when Mackenzie 
 called a halt. The spot he had chosen for 
 his bivouac was a secluded dell, among the 
 low green hills between Strehlenand Nimp- 
 scht. A small stream twined its way along 
 the vale, between banks fringed with alder 
 copses ; long grass clothed the slope of 
 the acclivities on either hand, whose crests 
 were crowned with an aged forest. A 
 deserted mill stood beside the shrunken 
 stream ; the blackened walls and charred 
 fragments of the roof showed that it had 
 been the scene of a skirmish in the early 
 part of the campaign. Kow again all was 
 still, as if the beat of the drum and the 
 sharp rattle of musketry had never dis-
 
 JULIA HOWAKD. 151 
 
 turbed that lowly haunt of humble and 
 happy toil. The inhabitants were gone, 
 and the hearth was tenantless ; but the 
 sycamore boughs waved green above the 
 roofless cottage, and the neglected garden 
 yet bloomed through the long feathery 
 ears of the grass which grew up among 
 the untended flowers. 
 
 The nearest outpost of the enemy being 
 distant some miles, and the face of the 
 country giving sufficient security against 
 surprise, the men prepared for their bivouac 
 with careless gaiety. The horses were 
 allowed to graze for an hour before they 
 were picketed and supplied with their feed 
 of black bread ; the arms were stacked, 
 the fires lighted, and the men gathered 
 round them to prepare their rations. The 
 officers established themselves among the 
 ruins of the mill, building their fire upon 
 the desolate hearth, and spreading their 
 
 '.
 
 152 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 supper on the fragment of a door propped 
 
 .LtiV: : v"-rr, : 
 
 up on stones, 
 
 " This is delightful," said O'Connor, as 
 the carlowitzer passed from hand to hand ; 
 " with such a sky above our bivouac, who 
 would wish himself back under a roof?" 
 
 " The bivouac is vera weel, or at least 
 weel aneugh the summer," said Mackenzie, 
 " but when the wind blaws cauld, ye will 
 just like the ingle neuk in your ain bar- 
 rack-room, a wee bit better than the brae 
 side for yere bed ; and may be ye wad 
 come to relish your dinner off a table as 
 weel as off a door, and to like a quaigh o' 
 Glenlivat, if ye could get it, as well as this 
 sour claret, and a' before the year is out. 
 Ernest, ye understand English, so I may 
 rest my tongue a bit with it to-day." 
 
 " By Jove, Mac, you are unreasonable," 
 said O'Connor, " if you complain to-day." 
 
 " Oh, Mac abuses the right he has
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 1.33 
 
 . 
 
 assumed to grumble at everything," said 
 Von Harrach ; " otherwise he would not 
 find fault with our fare to-night. Pass me 
 the cherry brandy, Allaster." 
 
 " Your fellow is a first-rate commissary, 
 Ernest," said O'Connor. " This hare was 
 a fine animal some three minutes since, and 
 that ham is excellent." 
 
 " Aweel," said Mackenzie, " hand me 
 the ham ; I see you have learned to eat 
 it raw, so I must look after my share 
 of it." 
 
 " Now confess, Mac," persisted O'Con- 
 nor, " that no gipsy party, with all means 
 and appliances to ensure enjoyment, could 
 compete with our bivouac here to-night." 
 
 " The preparation for pleasure always 
 defeats itself," observed Mackenzie. 
 
 " And then," said Harrach, " the fuss 
 and worry of a fete, and the double dull 
 duty of squiring a lot of women that you 
 care nothing for, is enough to turn any 
 
 H 5
 
 154 JULIA HOWAED 
 
 pleasure into weariness. For instance, Bar- 
 tenstein's jovial impromptu supper at the 
 Adeline's house was far and away a better 
 thing than his lady mother's last formal 
 banquet at her Viennese palace. I was 
 there, and all through the long procession 
 of the dinner I envied my horse, who 
 could get his feed without ceremony, and 
 without the company of the old powdered 
 and ruffled asses that the Countess had 
 congregated." 
 
 " I know little of that sort of life," said 
 O'Connor. " The charm of our roving life 
 is in its adventures and uncertainties." 
 
 " Apropos of Adeline," said Von Har- 
 rach, " why do you not come to her petit 
 comit^ suppers 1" 
 
 " Simply because I do not like to do 
 so," said O'Connor ; " besides, I know that 
 she and and her brother are plucking poor 
 Bartenstein, and I do not want to witness 
 the operation."
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 155 
 
 " How long do you intend to keep your 
 vow of prudery, and to set us sueh an ex- 
 ample of transcendant virtue, oh thou 
 bearded maiden V 
 
 " Come, Ernest, come ! I have stood 
 the fire of your merciless raillery when 
 our whole mess has been blazing away at 
 me as quick and sharp as a platoon fire ; 
 so you need not attempt to frighten me 
 with your solitary random shot of jibe or 
 jest. You must know that I have no 
 money to spare, that I do not want to win 
 any money, and so I have no business in 
 the den of that confounded gambling 
 dancer, who has bewitched poor Barten- 
 stein to his ruin." 
 
 " Oh thou man of ice," said Von Har- 
 rach, laughing ; " can nothing touch you '( 
 The light of woman's smile falls powerless 
 on your frozen mail." 
 
 " I find no warmth in bought smiles,'' 
 said O'Connor.
 
 156 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 " Now don't be playing the cynic/' said 
 Ernest Von Harrach. " Adeline's little 
 feet do not look the less pretty on the 
 stage because Bartenstein pays her shoe- 
 maker ; nor do La Corelli's black curls 
 look the less rich because Erdody gave her 
 the pearls she braids them with. For my 
 part, I like love, and I like to pay for it ; 
 it saves me the trouble of being grateful for 
 it. I never will marry a proud young 
 Countess that I should woo and sue for* 
 I'll choose some beautiful penniless maiden, 
 who will humbly adore me out of grati- 
 tude." 
 
 " I think," said Mackenzie, " that Al- 
 laster likes love as well as any of you, and 
 that he loves as you could never love, at 
 once and for ever \" 
 
 " Heaven defend me from such a mortal 
 malady," cried Harrach. " I like a quiet 
 little liebes verhaltness that begins easily 
 glides on pleasantly, and ends quickly.
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 157 
 
 Fi done de ces vilains grands mots toujours ! 
 Jamais !" -^A 
 
 So saying, Von Harrach wrapped his 
 cloak around him, and lay down beside 
 the fire, after wishing his comrades a gay 
 good night. Mackenzie took up his sabre, 
 and went round to visit his sentries, and 
 O'Connor sat musingly beside their blazing 
 fire. The night was gliding on her sha- 
 dowy round, the moon rolled high 
 through the purple heaven, the watch- 
 fires yet burned brightly, casting their 
 quivering and ruddy light on the crisping 
 surface of the stream rippling along the 
 bank, where the men lay in scattered 
 groups. Some already slept, some sat and 
 smoked, while the brandy-flask passed 
 round. Beyond the limits of the bivouac, 
 on either side, a sentry was placed, and 
 O'Connor could see their dark forms in the 
 moonlight, as they paced their measured 
 walk, and could hear the clash of their
 
 158 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 arms mingling with the liquid cadence of 
 the rill. At length the laugh and song of 
 the most tardy of the revellers was silent, 
 and nought broke the stillness of the hour 
 but the shrill neigh of some fretful charger 
 chafing at the picket, and longing perhaps 
 to break away and scour the meadows hoary 
 with the night dew. 
 
 O'Connor knew not how long he thus 
 sat. Ernest slept, and Mackenzie too had 
 laid him down beside his comrade, and 
 yet O'Connor waked and mused. He felt 
 no weariness, and the pain of his wound, 
 though slight, was yet sufficient to banish 
 sleep. At length he was about to seek 
 his pillow among the ruins, when a sound 
 breaking the deepening silence of the hour 
 attracted his attention. It seemed to come 
 from the copse which spread its dark cur- 
 tain behind the cottage. It was that light 
 sound which can be heard more distinctly 
 than many louder noises of the woods
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 159 
 
 the sound of dry branches cracking under 
 the foot, or before the passage of some 
 wanderer of the forest. The hill was so 
 steep there, and the copse so matted, that 
 Mackenzie had considered his bivouac safe 
 from any surprise from that quarter, 
 and the guarded movements of the in- 
 truder indicated caution rather than hostile 
 design. O'Connor, however, liked not the 
 idea of allowing a stranger, perhaps a lurk- 
 ing spy, to prowl about their encampment. 
 He was about to rouse Mackenzie, when 
 the idea occurred to him that this, noc- 
 turnal visitor might most probably be the 
 bandit Richler. He would ask no aid in 
 that case, for his single arm should be 
 sufficient to defend him. He took a pistol 
 from his holsters, and raised himself so as 
 to command a view over the shattered 
 wall of the cottage, and at the same time 
 to get out of the circle of light round their 
 smouldering fire. He gazed into the wood,
 
 160 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 whose recesses were here and there lighted 
 by the rays of the moon penetrating the 
 less dense masses of foliage. After a mo- 
 ment of anxious scrutiny, he fancied he 
 could make out the form of a man gliding 
 along the skirt of the wood. 
 
 " The third time will break the pishe- 
 rogue" muttered he, as he cocked his pistol. 
 " Come forward, or I fire 1" he then shouted. 
 The men sprang to their feet and seized 
 their carbines. Mackenzie and Ernest von 
 Harrach jumped up and grasped their sabres. 
 The arms' clashed, their locks clicked as 
 the men made ready and presented. A 
 moment more and a shower of bullets 
 would sweep through the copse. 
 
 " Hold ! I come !" cried a voice, and a 
 soldier in the dark Prussian uniform 
 emerged from the cover, and boldly strode 
 into the midst of the hussars. He was a 
 mere boy, and seemed worn out by fatigue. 
 His schako, shoes, and bayonet were gone,
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 161 
 
 and he seemed scarcely able to carry the 
 heavy musket which was his only weapon. 
 
 " In the devil's name who may you be, 
 meinherr?" demanded Mackenzie, cross 
 enough at this untimely alerte. 
 
 " A deserter from the Prussian army," 
 said the boy firmly, although the word 
 cost him an effort, for it seemed to cling 
 to his reluctant lip ere he could pro- 
 nounce it. 
 
 r 38 DllK Jyjjt 113riJ uJ X' 1 - 
 
 " Or a spy," said Mackenzie. " Do you 
 know, young man, that I should be justi- 
 fied in hanging you on that sycamore 
 
 O J J 
 
 bough r ba& r, 
 
 " I know it," answered the soldier. 
 " When I made up my mind to desert, I 
 knew that I incurred death from the 
 Prussians, and might probably meet it at 
 your outposts. I am ready to endure the 
 fate I well foresaw." 
 
 " You have deserted to escape the pro- 
 vost marshal V asked Mackenzie.
 
 162 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 " No !" answered the boy, with sudden 
 energy ; " no ! I am a gentleman, and I 
 have not dishonoured my name. I am 
 starving and weary ; give me food and 
 rest ; let me warm my chilled blood be- 
 side your fire, and I will tell you why I 
 have sought your bivouac." 
 
 " Beware !" said Mackenzie, as he led 
 the deserter to the fire, and the menace 
 in his tone supplied the unspoken words. 
 If the deserter were a spy, he should 
 have wished himself out of the hands of 
 the Scot. 
 
 "I am in your power," said the boy, 
 as he threw himself down beside the 
 fire. O'Connor placed before him the 
 fragments of their supper and the last 
 flask, w r hich still contained some ruster. 
 Tne Prussian at once applied himself to 
 the vivers with the keen appetite of a man 
 who had suffered severely from hunger 
 and fatigue.
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 163 
 
 "Ja proste mahlgeit," muttered Mac- 
 kenzie; "the callant is not inclined to 
 quarrel with his cook. There, take a pull 
 at the flask I" 
 
 " Thank you, Herr Rittmeister," said 
 the deserter. " To your health," Herr 
 Fahndrich I" he added, as he took the flask 
 from O'Connor ; " now I can speak." 
 
 Mackenzie lighted his pipe, kicked a 
 fresh log into the fire, and seated him- 
 self beside it to listen to the deserter's 
 tale. 
 
 " At Mollwitz I was an ensign in a light 
 infantry regiment," said the Prussian ; "I 
 then thought I would rather die a felon's 
 death than betray my king, or desert my 
 gallant comrades. I am the youngest son 
 of Graf von Steinberg, and cousin to poor 
 Ziethern. You know his fate V 
 
 " Not I," said Mackenzie ; " never heard 
 of him." 
 
 " Frederick had forbidden any lights
 
 164 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 burning in his camp after a certain hour. 
 Going round the lines himself, he saw a 
 light glimmering through the canvass of 
 my cousin's tent. He entered, and found 
 him in the act of sealing a letter to his 
 young wife. Frederick asked him had 
 he seen the order ; Ziethern could not 
 deny his knowledge of it, and then 
 Frederick, in that low, cold voice which 
 marks his most relentless mood, said, 
 ' Open your letter and add these words, 
 I die to-morrow.' There was an appeal 
 to Frederick's mercy. Ere the sunset of 
 the following day the clay was shovelled 
 back on the lifeless breast of as gallant 
 a soldier as ever grasped a sabre's 
 hilt " 
 
 " Frederick was just though severe,*' 
 said Mackenzie, solemnly. " Death is the 
 due meed of a soldier's disobedience. 
 The guilt lies in the disobedience, not 
 in the nature of the act committed. But
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 165 
 
 what has this to do with your deser- 
 tion r 
 
 "I was under arrest for some trifle," 
 said Steinberg. " The rumour of Zie- 
 thern's condemnation flew about the camp. 
 I would speak to him once more I would 
 ha ve risked my life to receive his last fare- 
 well, and bear his last message to his 
 widowed bride poor girl, she had sent 
 him from her two days after their mar- 
 riage to join his regiment. I had no diffi- 
 culty in effecting my purpose. Our regi- 
 ments are recruited from certain allotted 
 distric^ ^ IT ^ 
 
 " I do not understand you. How do 
 you mean 1" said O'Connor. 
 
 " Each Prussian regiment has a certain 
 specified district for recruiting. If volun- 
 tary enlistment does not furnish the re- 
 quired quota of men, the Colonel has a 
 right to draft by ballot among the unmar- 
 
 Jjjtl itifnoo icxB orli lo 9'iujf. '.
 
 166 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 ried men as many recruits as he wants to 
 fill his ranks. Thus many of the men in 
 my reginent were drawn from my father's 
 estates. The sentry on duty at my hut 
 was one of them. I implored him to let me 
 pass ; he consented ; and, wrapped in his 
 cloak, and further concealed by the obscu- 
 rity of the morning twilight, I reached 
 Ziethern's prison-tent. I was refused ad- 
 mission, recognized, and restored to my 
 own prison. I was brought to court-mar- 
 tial, and degraded to the ranks for two 
 years, and my promotion stopped for the 
 two subsequent years. Four years for the 
 fault of a moment ! The man I seduced 
 from his duty was flogged. Oh !" added 
 the boy, shuddering, " it is horrible to see 
 a man undergo that degrading punish- 
 ment; it is sickening to see the living 
 flesh mangled by the lash, and the blood 
 sprinkling the ground like rain ; but it is
 
 J[JLIA HOWARD. 167 
 
 hell upon earth to see it as I did, and to 
 know that I was the cause of that man's 
 torture !" 
 
 " For all that," said Mackenzie, who saw 
 that O'Connor and Ernest von Harrach 
 were listening to the deserter with unfail- 
 ing sympathy, "the lash is as indispens- 
 ably necessary in the army, as a pair of 
 spurs to a horseman. But go on, Stein- 
 berg, from my soul I pity you; for I know 
 of no position so painful or so false as that 
 in which you stood." 
 
 " While I stood in the ranks to witness 
 the punishment of the man who never 
 gave me a look of reproach, and who suf- 
 fered for my sake without flinching, be- 
 cause he was born on my father's lands, I 
 swore never to serve our tyrant. I left 
 the Prussian outpost at Schwartzthal yes- 
 terday, and concealed myself in the woods 
 until nightfall, when I tried to make my 
 way to Neiss; but as I knew little of the
 
 168 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 country, I lost my way, and wandered 
 about until this day, when I saw your 
 troop, and followed you at a distance, de- 
 termined to surrender at your bivouac." 
 
 "You cannot serve in our regiment," 
 said Mackenzie ; " we never enroll de- 
 serters ; and, besides, you would fight 
 with a halter round your neck." 
 
 " It matters not, I shall never be taken 
 alive," said the boy, firmly. " If I can- 
 not fall with a soldier's honour, this is lost 
 to me for ever ; I can at least die on the 
 field of battle. Austrians ! I am ready to 
 guide you to the Prussian outposts ; their 
 careless security invites attack." 
 
 Mackenzie examined the deserter most 
 minutely as to the strength and position 
 of the outpost at Schwartzthal, and hav- 
 ing obtained all the information that Stein- 
 berg could give him, he abruptly closed 
 the conference by wrapping himself in his 
 cloak and stretching himself beside the
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 169 
 
 fire, leaving his comrades and the Prussian 
 to follow his example, having first sent 
 and ordered his sentries to watch the move- 
 ments of the latter. 
 
 VOL. II.
 
 170 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The death-shot, hissing from afar, 
 The shock, the shout, the groan of war, 
 Reverberate along that vale 
 More suited to the shepherd's tale. 
 
 THE GIAOUR. 
 
 THE reveille sounded cheerily. The 
 men looked to their horses, and shared 
 their rye-bread with them ; it was the 
 only breakfast for man or beast ; but the 
 men had the schnapps-flask to mend the 
 common fare. O'Connor kindly pressed 
 the young Prussian soldier to share their 
 scanty meal.
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 171 
 
 " Cornet O'Connor, you will ride forward 
 towards Schwarzthal," said Mackenzie. 
 Take two men with you. Reconnoitre the 
 Prussian position. They are right in our 
 way, so we must fight them, if they be 
 not too strong for us. Should you see no 
 cause to distrust the deserter's report, 
 send back one of the men to hasten our 
 march ; if you find he has deceived us, 
 return at once, and see that he do not 
 escape. Let him have my led horse. Keep 
 your eyes on him." 
 
 " My life on the boy's truth," exclaimed 
 O'Connor. 
 
 " Aweel, young bluid, het bluid ! but 
 ye're no captain o' the troop, and maybe 
 'tis as weel for her. Have a care ye dinna 
 fall into the hands of the enemy. Herr 
 von Steinberg, you will accompany Cornet 
 O'Connor, and act as his guide." 
 
 O'Connor and the men he selected to 
 accompany him were mounted in a ino- 
 
 I 2
 
 172 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 ment; the deserter silently took the horse 
 assigned to him, and the party set out at 
 a sharp trot. Mackenzie soon followed 
 his e'claireurs. He had advanced about 
 three miles when he saw the orderly re- 
 turning at the best speed of his horse. 
 He brought O'Connor's report that all was 
 exactly as the deserter had stated. The 
 Prussians were lying in a straggling vil- 
 lage on the skirt of the wood; but a pea- 
 sant, whom O'Connor had seized as he came 
 from the hamlet, asserted that the com- 
 pany was about to fall back on the camp 
 at Strehlin. 
 
 " Forward trot I" said Mackenzie. The 
 troop advanced rapidly; but as they ap- 
 proached Schwarzthal, O'Connor, followed 
 by von Steinberg and the hussar, galloped 
 in. 
 
 " You are late, Mackenzie ! They are 
 off!" he exclaimed. It was true; as the 
 hussars gained the brow of the hill above
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 173 
 
 the village of Schwarzthal, they could 
 descry the small column of infantry mov- 
 ing across the plain, like a moving speck ; 
 but already so near another village, sur- 
 rounded by gardens and a network of 
 hedges, that Mackenzie could not venture 
 to attack them in a position so disadvan- 
 tageous to cavalry, and so excellently well 
 suited to light infantry movements. 
 
 " We are baulked for this bout," said 
 Mackenzie ; " the Kumptsch road lies be- 
 hind tfyose hills, we can cut into it by that 
 gap in the ridge. It will be our shortest 
 way to Frankenstein." 
 
 Being so near the Prussians, it was ne- 
 cessary to move with precaution, as in an 
 enemy's country. O'Connor again rode 
 forward to reconnoitre the wooded defile 
 through which their track led. Presently 
 he returned. 
 
 T 
 
 " There is a troop of Hulans yonder !' 
 he exclaimed, with flashing eyes. " They
 
 174 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 have halted to refresh their horses ; we 
 are in luck after all, and we shall turn out 
 the Berlin parade to-day. 
 
 Halting the troop, Mackenzie rode on 
 to the point whence Allaster had disco- 
 vered the Hulans ; and, after an absence 
 of a few minutes, which appeared too long 
 to the impatience of the men, he returned 
 with his keen grey eyes glittering under 
 his shaggy sandy brows, and a grim smile 
 on his lip, curling his grizzled moustache, 
 looking, take him all in all, very like a 
 Scotch terrier ready for a rat hunt. 
 
 " They are right in our way we must 
 cut through them," he said, in his quick 
 decided tones. " Harrach, you know the 
 ground. They have halted in the mea- 
 dow near the saw-mills, where we were 
 quartered for three days before Mollwitz. 
 They are at dinner, and their horses are 
 feeding." 
 
 He set about making his dispositions
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 175 
 
 for a dash at the Hulans, and in a few 
 minutes the troop was silently wheeling 
 round the hill, which hid them from the 
 enemy. The excitement of the men in- 
 creased every moment, though it was sup- 
 pressed ; or at least the expression of it 
 was repressed by their discipline. Von 
 Steinberg still rode at O'Connor's side, un- 
 heeded by Mackenzie. All trace of shame 
 or regret was gone from the deserter's 
 face, but though firm, he was deadly 
 pale. 
 
 " I may not live to see the end of this 
 fray," he said, in a low voice, to Allaster. 
 " You have been kind to me, and I am 
 grateful as if you had done me a service. 
 If you should ever be so unfortunate as to 
 be a prisoner of war in Prussia, and that 
 you should want a home and friends, give 
 this ring to the Countess Von Steinberg, and 
 tell her that you were kind to her son in his 
 hour of deepest need ; tell her that his last
 
 176 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 thought in death was of her ; tell her 
 this, and she will be to you as a mother 
 for my sake." 
 
 . " You will laugh at these forebodings 
 to-night, when I give you back your ring," 
 said O'Connor. 
 
 " No, my hour is come I" said the de- 
 serter, firmly. 
 
 The Austrian bugle rang through the 
 air, v giving forth the thrilling notes of 
 the charge, as the hussars wheeled round 
 the hill. The Hulans sprang to their 
 horses ; long practised in skirmishing war- 
 fare, they were mounted in a moment, and 
 made an attempt to form, but before they 
 could fall into their ranks, the hussars 
 poured the fire of their carbines upon the 
 confused mass, and drawing their swords, 
 dashed upon them and through them. 
 The Hulans hesitated wavered and were 
 broken into shattered sections. Their 
 lances were useless in close combat, but
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 177 
 
 their swords were good and they knew 
 how to use them. They fought manfully 
 though hopelessly, although the fire of the 
 hussars had thinned their ranks, and left 
 many a saddle empty. 
 
 O'Connor was in the hottest of the 
 fight. The delirious excitement of the 
 charge and the battle was rioting in its 
 full ferocious joy in his bounding pulse ; 
 he received a sharp sabre-cut across his 
 head, returned it by cutting down his 
 enemy, encountered the captain of the 
 Hulans hand to hand, and disarmed him, 
 shivering his sword with a stroke of his 
 own blade ; the Hulan fired, and his pis- 
 tol-bullet cut the epaulette from O'Con- 
 nor's shoulder ; the sabre of an hussar fell 
 on the Hulan's arm, and effectually disabled 
 him by a severe wound ; the hussar was 
 about to repeat the blow, when O'Connor 
 caught his arm. 
 
 " Surrender, Captain," he cried. The 
 
 I 5
 
 178 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 Hulan looked at his powerless hand, and 
 sullenly delivered the hilt of his sabre to 
 O'Connor. 
 
 The fight was short and sharp. About 
 half the Hulans cut their way through the 
 hussars, and setting spurs to their horses 
 swept across the country at a speed which 
 soon carried them far from the scene of 
 action ; the rest of the Hulans remained 
 dead, wounded, or prisoners with the Aus- 
 trians. The loss of the hussars was very 
 trifling ; that of the Hulans was more se- 
 vere ; the fire of the hussars accounts suf- 
 ficiently for the difference in the ca- 
 sualties. 
 
 The prisoners were disarmed and formed 
 the wounded collected, and their hurts 
 dressed as well as time and place would 
 permit. Von Harrach rode up to the vil- 
 lage, and pressed some of the trembling 
 and reluctant peasants into the service to 
 bury the dead ; he also seized two or three
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 179 
 
 carts to carry off the wounded who were 
 too severely hurt to sit their horses. The 
 peasants dug the deep grave; in the 
 neighbourhood of the enemy and on the 
 field no military honours were paid to the 
 dead, but it was a solemn scene, when the 
 clay was thrown over the yet warm and 
 bleeding forms of those who but a moment 
 before were full of life and vigour, and the 
 maddening excitement of the struggle and 
 the victory. 
 
 The hussars fell into their ranks, the 
 prisoners were mounted and placed in their 
 due station, the wounded were stretched 
 on straw in the carts, and the column 
 waited silent and motionless for Macken- 
 zie's word of command, when suddenly 
 Von Steinberg advanced, and placed him- 
 self full in front of Mackenzie and of the 
 Hulan Captain. 
 
 " Hear me, Heinrich von Alten," he 
 said to the Hulan officer.
 
 180 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 " No," said the Hulan, sternly ; " no 
 soldier will listen to the voice of a traitor." 
 
 The ashy hue of Von Steinberg's face 
 grew more lividly white, but he met the 
 look of loathing and scorn which Count 
 von Alten threw upon him with a gaze of 
 steady coldness. 
 
 " Count von Alten, bear my words to 
 the camp of your tyrant," continued the 
 deserter, in a voice which rang through 
 the ranks. " The death of Ziethern, the 
 torture of the soldier, and my degradation, 
 have driven me to despair. I sought re- 
 venge I have found it, and it mocks me. 
 Now see how I mete out justice to the de- 
 serter's crime." 
 
 He snatched a pistol from the holsters 
 of an hussar near him, and ere any hand 
 could interpose, he placed the muzzle be- 
 tween his teeth, pressed the trigger, and 
 fell at the feet of the Hulan and Macken- 
 zie. Neither of them moved a limb- 
 death was but the due meed of desertion.
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 181 
 
 O'Connor bent over the corpse. The 
 sad, sweet serenity of a painless death sat 
 on the face of the unhappy boy, but the 
 skull was shattered, and a pool of seething 
 blood and brains lay beneath it on the 
 earth. O'Connor sickened at the sight, 
 and turned away. 
 
 " He is gone !" he said, in a voice husky 
 with emotion ; " he deserved a better 
 fate." 
 
 " Let him rest with his comrades," said 
 Mackenzie ; and the awe-stricken peasants 
 laid the self-doomed deserter in the last 
 common resting-place of friend and foe, and 
 earth like a mother gathered her contend- 
 ing children into her bosom, and hushed 
 their angry quarrel in the forgetfulness of 
 the last long sleep. 
 
 " March ! forward !" said Mackenzie, as 
 he struck the spurs into his horse's flanks, 
 and set forth towards Frankenstein. 
 
 " Well, Allaster !" said Colonel Gordon,
 
 182 JULIA HOWAED. 
 
 as he lounged into AUaster's room on the 
 following morning, " how is your heacH 
 rather confused, eh ! my boy 1" 
 
 " My bearskin cap would give me a 
 headache, I fancy," said O'Connor ; " for 
 the rest, this scratch is nothing to an 
 Irishman, whose skull is made by Dame 
 Nature to stand hard knocks. A clip of 
 an oak stick would hurt one more than a 
 sword." 
 
 " For a' that and a' that," said Gordon, 
 " I would back good steel against sprig of 
 shilelagh, any day. We shall lose you for 
 awhile when your head is mended." 
 
 " As how, Colonel 1" 
 
 " Mac mentioned you to the Marshal, 
 who offered to put you on his staff. I ac- 
 cepted it for you, as it will be the very best 
 thing for you in every way." 
 
 " Mac is a right good fellow, and I am 
 obliged to him for having recommended 
 me to the notice of the Marshal Count, but
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 183 
 
 I had rather not take the staff appoint- 
 ment." 
 
 " You do not wish to leave us," said 
 Gordon ; " I understand all that, but you 
 must take the staff appointment." 
 
 " But I want to see service," said O'Con- 
 nor. 
 
 " You may be sure that old Neuperg is 
 not the man to withdraw from the field a 
 young fellow that he wishes to bring for- 
 ward. You will see service, never fear ; 
 so get up and wait on the Marshal after 
 dinner." 
 
 .r,f >
 
 184 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 I>fia ,noiJjrmiff.aiB t gmi Io 
 "io eo&i ai '/ii afljsrtfgirA sdT 
 -od nan^yp-bjjsil g^ioquolft 
 a t ?.9nii iioiiT 
 
 jfe QISV/ t eon9'l: 
 il hibirolqa lidilT 
 io feodh-j *n-BllB Lnn ,blrw sdi : 
 CHAPTER VIIII. 
 ;'ji gahavod ^/'unx/co 
 
 Alas ! how changed that gentle mien 
 How changed those timid looks have been I 
 Since days of guilt and of disguise 
 Have steeled her brow and armed her eyes ! 
 And he the cause for whom were given 
 Her peace on earth her hopes in heaven 
 
 SCOTT. 
 lish 1J3W 6lfi 10 220'IO'i Qifo I) 
 
 LITTLE had as jet been done which ap- 
 parently influenced the fortunes of the con- 
 contending nations. Frederick had left 
 Strehlin and taken up a position at Reich- 
 enbach, so as to cover Schweidnitz, where 
 he had formed a fine park of artillery, and
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 a vast magazine of arms, ammunition, and 
 provisions. The Austrians lay in face of 
 the enemy, Neuperg's head-quarters be- 
 ing at Frankenstein. Their lines, naturally 
 easy of defence, were strengthened by 
 field-works. Their splendid light cavalry, 
 the flower of the wild, and gallant tribes of 
 the Banat and the military frontier, were 
 spread over the country, hovering round 
 the Prussians and harassing them without 
 intermission. Thus in position, the two 
 armies remained for nearly a month, hold- 
 ing each other mutually in check, without 
 venturing upon any decisive action. The 
 same sluggish dilatoriness which had re- 
 tarded the progress of the war during the 
 first part of the campaign still impeded the 
 movements of the two armies, and the 
 same excessive caution still repressed the 
 baffled ardour of the soldiery. 
 
 O'Connor's regiment being at Franken- 
 stein, he was not deprived of the society of
 
 186 JULIA HOWAED. 
 
 his brother officers. Though he had 
 joined but so lately, he would have been 
 grieved to part from them. Their frank, 
 free kindness, and their light-hearted mer- 
 riment gave to their social intercourse a 
 charm unknown to any other society. 
 There is nothing in after-life like the care- 
 less, causeless, unreasoning joy of buoyant 
 youth. The successful pursuits of maturer 
 years, and the reserved and guarded inter- 
 course of men in the busy and toiling 
 period of manhood, what are they to the 
 unfettered glee and warm friendships of a 
 soldier's youth "? 
 
 At first 0"Connor did not dislike his 
 new avocations. The Marshal treated him 
 with particular kindness. Writing de- 
 spatches and carrying orders filled his 
 time with employment, not indeed quite 
 consonant to his natural tastes ; but as the 
 Count had promised that he should join 
 his regiment whenever it should go into
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 187 
 
 action, he resigned himself to the duties of 
 the office imposed on him by Colonel Gor- 
 don's will, and worked with a quiet zeal, 
 which left no cause for the veteran Gene- 
 ral to regret his appointment as secretary. 
 
 But his dreams of martial glory were at 
 length dispelled. The wild adventure 
 the maddening excitement of the fight 
 the proud joy of victory the toil cheer- 
 fully endured to-day in expectation of the 
 triumph of to-morrow, where were they I 
 The campaign was nearly over ; in a few 
 weeks they should go into winter quarters, 
 and as yet he had seen little of service except 
 the dull aud weary duty of marching and 
 counter-marching from one village to ano- 
 ther, without permanently losing or gain- 
 ing a league of ground. Was this the life 
 he had anticipated in his boyhood with 
 that burning impatience, which had ren^ 
 dered peace so leaden dull to his chafing 
 spirit ? Were his aspirations never to be
 
 188 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 realised \ Should Julia Howard never 
 hear his name spoken with honour 1 Should 
 he never offer her the homage of his love 
 enriched and enhanced by the well-won 
 meed of praise, which would render that 
 love a treasure worthy of a proud woman's 
 grateful acceptance 1 By degrees a lan- 
 guid inertness crept over his spirit : his 
 thoughts lost their manly energy his iron 
 strength of will relaxed its grasp of life, 
 and life's interests and business ; his very 
 ambition seemed tamed down to a level 
 with the irksome monotonous course of his 
 daily existence. He performed his duty 
 still with quiet patience and minute exacti- 
 tude, but the depression of his heart be- 
 came every day more sick and saddening. 
 This mental malady could not long prey 
 on a man whose mind and body were 
 alike so healthy and nobly organized, but 
 while it lasted it was more painful than 
 positive suffering would have been.
 
 JULIA HOWAED. 189 
 
 His long lonely rides from one post to 
 another along the extended lines became 
 his chief pleasure, and his love for Julia, 
 suppressed for a moment amid the novelty 
 of his military career, regained its former 
 undisputed sway over all his thoughts. 
 
 One evening, as he came in from Glatz, 
 he met Mackenzie and Turkheim in the 
 barrack-yard ; Mackenzie quietly enjoying 
 his pipe, Turkheim impatiently pacing the 
 square. 
 
 " Have you heard the news, Allaster V 
 said Mackenzie. 
 
 " No, what news T inquired O'Connor. 
 
 " Bartenstein has acknowledged his mar- 
 riage with Adeline ; it seems he lost all 
 he had, or has, or is ever to have, to her 
 brother, and so he marries the lassie. 
 Puir laddie ! he is clean ruined now." 
 
 " The gipsey seems to have played her 
 cards well," observed O'Connor, as he dis- 
 mounted ; " I always expected to see
 
 190 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 Bartenstein taken in by some woman, he 
 was so cursedly soft-hearted, so ready to 
 throw away his fortune first, and then to 
 throw himself after it ; but I hardly 
 thought he would have gone to the devil 
 so fast with so little temptation !" 
 
 " The new Countess gives a party to- 
 night," continued Mackenzie ; " I'se just 
 gang till it to see her first appearance on 
 the new stage ; will ye gang too, laddie \ 
 and see how Bartenstein bears his misfor- 
 tune r 
 
 " I do not think I can go," said O'Con- 
 nor ; " besides, I never went to her parties 
 before, and I do not like to go to her first 
 party as Countess Bartenstein. For the 
 poor fellow's sake we must accept the base 
 coin as if it were sterling gold, and treat 
 his Countess with all possible respect." 
 
 " I dinna ken but ye are right," mut- 
 tered Mackenzie, as he sauntered away. 
 
 " At last !" exclaimed Turkheim, in a
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 191 
 
 low, eager tone ; " I thought he would 
 never take himself away. I want to speak 
 to you. Come to your rooms, and dismiss 
 your fellow as soon as you can/' 
 
 They went together to O'Connor's 
 rooms, and there Turkheim continued to 
 pace the floor with hasty strides, making 
 the windows rattle with his impatient and 
 uneven steps, while Fritz pulled off Allas- 
 ter's boots. 
 
 " There, Fritz, that will do ; get me 
 some supper directly, and then go to the 
 stable and see that Heinrich makes up 
 Sisko carefully. He is tender on the near 
 fore-foot, so have the shoe removed. Now 
 supper !" 
 
 " Gleich, gleich, mein herr,' ' said Fritz, 
 and in a moment he brought in the supper, 
 which was received by O'Connor with a 
 right hearty welcome, a long day's work 
 having marvellously well disposed him to
 
 192 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 do justice to the baked beef and plums 
 which Fritz had provided. 
 , ", Eat, Karl !" said Allaster. 
 
 " I have supped," said Turkheim, who 
 continued to traverse the room, restless, 
 like a wild animal in a cage. 
 
 " On dirait a vous voir qu'on vous avait 
 fait avaler bien de couleuvres," observed 
 O'Connor in French. " Well, drink then," 
 he added in German. " There is a flask 
 of Ausbruch, and some brandy to mend 
 the sweetness of the wine. Take yourself 
 off, Fritz." 
 
 " I am in an infernal scrape," exclaimed 
 Turkheim, when they were alone. " I 
 wish to heaven I had been as quiet and 
 straight-laced as yourself." 
 
 " Something must be terribly wrong 
 with you, Karl, or the idea of such an ex- 
 treme measure of reformation could never 
 enter your head."
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 193 
 
 " Listen to me, Allaster !" said Turk- 
 heim, stamping on the floor in his nervous 
 irritation. " Time is passing ; listen to 
 me seriously, for I am on the verge of 
 ruin I" 
 
 O'Connor became serious at once, and 
 Turkheim filled himself a goblet of wine, 
 drank it, and then continued more calmly : 
 " You remember Clara Herder ?" 
 
 " I do ; she is too beautiful to be for- 
 gotten easily," replied O'Connor. 
 
 " I thought so once," said Karl, bitterly. 
 " In that confounded hole, Neiss, I had no- 
 thing to do, and the devil that tempts 
 idlers threw Clara in my way. I flirted 
 with her at first to spend my vacant 
 hours, but she loved me, and I was drawn 
 on insensibly until I made a fool a damned 
 fool of myself !" 
 
 " Poor Clara I" muttered O'Connor. 
 
 " I tell you, Allaster," said Turkheim, 
 " that I have got into an entanglement 
 
 VOL. II. K
 
 194 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 that will end by my cutting my throat, if I 
 find no other means of extricating myself." 
 " But, Karl," said O'Connor, drily, " I 
 do not see what you have got to trouble 
 you, and to put you into all this fret and 
 fume, when you do not care for the poor 
 girl. You have lost nothing by the 
 affair." 
 
 " Allaster, hear me I must tell you 
 all, for I want your assistance ; so I may 
 as well tell it at once, and have done with 
 a confession that seems to blister my lips 
 as I speak it. I married Clara ; I de- 
 ceived her shamefully basely if you will 
 for the priest was my groom disguised 
 as an ecclesiastic, and the ceremony was a 
 miserable mockeryj which I taught him to 
 recite with solemnity." 
 
 " Karl, this is a serious matter !" ex- 
 claimed O'Connor ; " you went too far." 
 
 " I do not want to justify myself ; you 
 cannot reproach me more severely than I
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 19.1 
 
 reproach myself; you can say nothing 
 that my own conscience has not said to me. 
 I despise myself, because from that hour of 
 madness to this present time I have felt 
 fear a very coward's fear of detection 
 shivering in my heart. Let me tell you 
 what drove me to this deed of guilt. 
 Just before I met you in Vienna last 
 April, my cousin, Hermann von Waldstein, 
 and some of his mad set, came down to 
 his castle near Hochberg. He is a thorough 
 scamp, a very devil for wildness and ex- 
 travagance, and yet the best fellow in the 
 world, and the delight and darling of the 
 women. His friends were like himself, 
 and we made a gay time of it. In an 
 evil hour I showed Clara to them. They 
 all acknowledged that she was beautiful ; 
 but they would not believe that she loved 
 me ; they laughed at me, until I lost my 
 temper, I drank, and I lost my senses, and 
 then I betted that within a week I would 
 
 K 2
 
 196 JULIA HOWAED. 
 
 bring Clara to Waldstein with me. At 
 that time I owed some money to Barten- 
 stein, Gentz, and Sternberg, debts of ho- 
 nour, amounting in all to twenty thousand 
 florins. I had promised that I would pay 
 them before I went to Vienna, and with 
 some difficulty I had extorted the money 
 from my father, who had paid my debts 
 twice before within the twelve months, 
 and who swore that he would not give me 
 another zwanziger for a year. Maddened 
 by wine, and wounded vanity, and the jests 
 of my companions, I betted my very honour 
 on Clara's love, for I staked the twenty 
 thousand florins. That very evening I 
 met Clara at our usual trysting place ; I 
 tried my power to the uttermost, and 
 
 ;{Q !/fl _L>9ITJJ30 J[ TTOlf I/OY fldi 
 
 failed ; she refused to fly from her home 
 with me. She loved me, her heart was 
 breaking for me, but she was proud and 
 virtuous, and she bade me farewell for 
 ever. I prayed, vowed, implored, tried
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 197 
 
 i A^ e\rr\ 
 
 the hacknied threat of suicide, but all 
 was vain. The lurking devil in my breast 
 whispered his scheme of treachery, ruin, 
 dishonour ; the jeers of my companions 
 at Waldstein, the contempt and astonish- 
 ment of my brother officers at my broken 
 word of honour, all rose up before me, 
 stared me in the face. I grasped the 
 hope suggested me by my very despair, and 
 told Clara that I would marry her if she 
 would swear to obey me in everything, 
 and to conceal our marriage until I should 
 permit her to confess it. She hesitated, 
 for she loved her father ; I pleaded with 
 all the eloquence of passion and despair, 
 she yielded, for she loved me. I need not 
 tell you how I carried my plan into exe- 
 cution, nor how I surrounded my crime 
 with every precaution which could shroud 
 it from detection. I need not repeat the 
 tale I told Clara of my father's sternness 
 and of my dependence on him ; I need
 
 198 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 not tell you what pretexts we devised to 
 evade the fond vigilance of her father 
 while I led my victim to Waldstein. It is 
 enough to tell you that I showed her 
 there, and won my fatal bet, and then, ere 
 the whispers or the looks of the guests of 
 Count Waldstein could excite suspicion in 
 that innocent and candid girl, I hurried 
 her away. Even then I feared her ; yes, 
 I, who had often looked death in the face 
 on the field, I quailed as a guilty thing ; 
 I crouched like a worm before the pure 
 glad smile of that viUage girl ; I trem- 
 bled, for I had wronged her !" 
 
 v "*~ * .~'~\<'i > "--v f-JT\'fi 
 
 "I pity you from my soul, Karl," said 
 O'Connor ; " but what can I do for you ? 
 Yet you say you want my assistance." 
 
 Turkheim again filled his goblet, and 
 drained it at a draught. 
 
 " Clara is here ; she came to my quar- 
 ters to-night, and claimed my protection ; 
 she calls on me to acknowledge her mar-
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 199 
 
 riage. Her father wishes her to marry 
 some jaeger to whom she was betrothed 
 before I met her, and she has fled to avoid 
 this marriage. I dare not confess my 
 treachery. Go to her tell her all say 
 I can never see her more. I am rich now 
 since my father's death ; offer her half my 
 fortune ; tell her that I will provide nobly 
 for her child if she will conceal its birth ; 
 but at all cost set me free. If Sternberg 
 hears of this wretched business, he will 
 make his sister dissolve our engage- 
 ment." 
 
 " And you yet love Countess Ottilie V 
 asked O'Connor, thoughtfully. 
 
 " More than my life ; I have loved her 
 for two years ; she is the only woman I 
 ever loved. I would rather die than lose 
 her 1" 
 
 A smile of melancholy pride passed 
 over the calm and beautiful face of Al- 
 laster. He felt how superior he himself
 
 200 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 was to others, his steady love, his holy 
 truth, his unswerving adherence to his 
 fathers, his unsullied fidelity to Julia, 
 shone before his own soul as a light from 
 heaven. ^ ^ ^.^ O j, f>ual9 O j 
 
 " I do not like the task you want to fix 
 on me," he said ; " cannot you speak to 
 the poor girl yourself ? why practise 
 needless cruelty to her T 
 
 " I dare not meet her/' muttered Karl ; 
 " I have seen her ^ie would not hear 
 me yes, it must out I fear her she is 
 
 0?#" 
 
 madly violent." 
 
 "Well, if I must go, I must," said 
 O'Connor, with the air of a man who had 
 made up his mind to a vexatious neces- 
 sity ; " I will try to persuade her to re- 
 turn to her home, or, at least, to seek 
 some more fitting asylum than your quar- 
 
 ers ' ji/df t raoo-i-9ini5 oili ni i 
 
 " Tell her that I conjure her to marry 
 
 the Jaeger; by a little caution and some
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 201 
 
 address she can conceal everything from 
 him. I shall be more happy when I know 
 that she has found a peaceful home." 
 
 " No, Karl, no," said Allaster ; " I will 
 not seek to persuade Clara to marry the 
 Jaeger. I will not urge her to inflict on 
 any man a wrong which I, were it done to 
 myself, would wash out in blood, and 
 deem the penalty scarcely equal to the of- 
 fence. The peasanjt has feelings as deep 
 and true as ours ; tne jealousy of love and 
 honour burns beneath the grey blouse as 
 fiercely as beneath our embroidered dol- 
 mans. If I am to manage this business 
 for you, I must have my own way in it." 
 
 " Act as you will, do anything, promise 
 anything for me, but lose no time," said 
 Turkheim. " My honour and my life and 
 my love are in your hand. My servant is 
 on guard in the ante-room, but I have told 
 him to admit you. Go, Allaster, mem 
 
 bester,go!" 
 
 K 5
 
 202 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 Allaster involuntarily smiled at this 
 eager, self-abandoning dependence with 
 which Turkheim implored his aid. It 
 seemed like weakness to the stern and 
 self-relying spirit of the mountain chief- 
 tain. However, he yielded to his friend's 
 urgent entreaties, and sought poor Clara 
 Herder. There were no candles in Turk- 
 heim's room, but the wood fire in the open 
 stove flung a red and fitful radiance 
 around. 
 
 Clara was crouched beside the stove ; 
 her head rested on her knees, with her 
 forehead pressed in her clasped hands, 
 and her long hair unbraided, and hung 
 like a veil over her form. When she heard 
 O'Connor's footstep, she raised her head, 
 and gazed on him with a look of inquiring 
 anguish. 
 
 " It is not he !" she muttered, and once 
 more bowed her head, as if soul and body 
 -sJT .0:
 
 JULIA HOWAED. 203 
 
 were alike crushed to the dust beneath 
 the weight of shame and sorrow. 
 
 O'Connor gazed on the victim of Turk- 
 heim's thoughtless folly with pity and re- 
 gretful manly tenderness for her helpless 
 and unprotected innocence. How changed 
 she was since the day when he had seen 
 her sitting in the hop garden with her 
 false lover at her feet ! The blight had 
 fallen on the sweet field-flower. Her form 
 was wasted from its rounded symmetry, 
 her cheek was thin and white, and her 
 large eyes were surrounded by dark livid 
 circles, which made the paleness of her 
 eheek appear yet more wan. 
 
 " Where is Karl V she exclaimed, 
 abruptly, while Allaster stood in silence 
 gazing on the wreck of so much beauty. 
 
 " He has sent me to you," replied 
 O'Connor. " Believe me, clarchen, this is 
 no place for you. You must allow me to 
 take you hence. Karl has told me all ;
 
 204 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 you cannot reproach him more bitterly 
 than he reproaches himself ; he curses the 
 madness which led him to wrong you ; he 
 implores you to allow him to atone for his 
 error by " 
 
 " Gold !" interrupted Clara, bitterly ; 
 " gold yes, he told me this ; he said he 
 would provide nobly for me ; a little gold, 
 he thinks, will pay the peasant girl for her 
 honour, her peace, her happiness. You, 
 too, think this, and you come like him 
 to bargain and to barter with her for her 
 life." 
 
 " I do not come to insult you with the 
 offer of gold ; I know you would not ac- 
 cept such sordid compromise. I come to 
 take you hence. By the memory of all 
 you have lost I appeal to you, and I en- 
 treat you to follow me. Every hour you 
 spend here now will but add remorse to 
 sorrow/' 
 
 " Whither can I go 1" she said, in a 
 hollow, choking tone.
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 205 
 
 y\? There is a quiet little inn here in the 
 town. I will take you thither for this 
 night, and to-morrow I will restore you to 
 your father." 
 
 " Am I still his child 1" exclaimed Clara 
 wildly. " I have deceived him ; I am not 
 worthy to dwell beneath his roof. Shall 
 I confess my shame, and break my mother's 
 heart ? or shall I marry Johann with dis- 
 honour for my marriage portion V 
 
 " Shame and dishonour can never fall 
 on you, Clara ; they rest with your be- 
 trayer. I will lead you to your father ; I 
 will repeat Turkheim's confession, and he 
 will receive you, and take you to his hearth 
 and his heart. I do not ask you to marry 
 Johann. Live alone and free, and Turk- 
 heim will provide for you and your child 
 with a generosity which is only justice." 
 
 " Have mercy on me !" she exclaimed. 
 " Do not lead me from the only home 
 where I have a right to find shelter.
 
 206 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 Speak for me to Karl entreat him not to 
 cast me from him. He alone has not a 
 right to despise me he alone of all the 
 world can believe that I am not wanton 
 and vile. I do not hope to keep his love, 
 but let him endure my presence/' 
 
 " Clarchen, it cannot be," said Allaster, 
 who felt thoroughly ashamed of the part 
 he was acting, so ashamed that his eyes 
 sunk before the glance of Clara, and 
 he could scarcely find a few cold con- 
 strained words to answer her heartfelt 
 pleading. 
 
 " Let me see him once more," she ex- 
 claimed. " See, I am calm I will be 
 calm as death I will smile, and not even 
 look reproachfully ; only let me see him. 
 What have I done to you that you try to 
 tear me from him, and to break my 
 heart T 
 
 She threw herself on her knees and 
 caught Allaster's hand. She wept bit-
 
 JULIA HOWAED. 207 
 
 terly : in the violence of her sobbing he 
 could feel the convulsive throbbing of her 
 heart, and his hand was wet with her 
 tears. He felt more and more embar- 
 rassed, more humbled every moment, and 
 he became angry with himself; and this 
 increased the painful awkwardness of his 
 position. A cold dispassionate spectator 
 always seems weak and powerless when 
 called on to contend with the impassioned 
 being whose all of life and hope is on the 
 hazard of the stake ; but far more weak 
 is he who is obliged to advocate a friend 
 whom he, at the secret bar of his con- 
 science, must condemn, and to make offers 
 which revolt him while he urges them. 
 O'Connor almost loathed himself for the 
 share he was taking in Turkheim's deser- 
 tion of the woman he had betrayed to 
 shame and anguish of heart. He gently 
 raised Clara, placed her on a chair, and 
 opening the door a little, desired Turk-
 
 208 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 helm's man, who was standing sentry in 
 the ante-room, to bring lights. 
 
 " Let me see him once more," said Clara ; 
 " let me appeal to his mercy, and if I kneel 
 and sue in vain, I will bow my head and 
 depart." 
 
 She buried her face in her hands and 
 spoke no more, but the shivering of her 
 whole frame, and the low moaning mur- 
 murs of complaint which broke from her 
 lips, betrayed the keen sense of pain which 
 she retained even in that utter exhaustion 
 of body and mind. 
 
 The servant brought in a lamp, and some 
 biscuits and wine ; perhaps he thought that 
 Clara required some food. O'Connor took 
 a glass of wine and held it to the girl's 
 quivering lips, but she impatiently and 
 feebly pushed it away. 01 errooa odl 
 
 " Karl, Karl, nothing but Karl !" she 
 murmured. 
 
 " Remain here. Let no one enter that
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 209 
 
 room," said O'Connor to the servant, as he 
 passed through the outer apartment on his 
 way to his own rooms. 
 
 " Turkheim," he said, " you must come 
 with me. I cannot drag the girl away 
 from you ; you cannot expect that I will 
 act the part of an executioner or a butcher 
 for you. She says she must see you ; be a 
 man, and dare to look on what you have 
 dared to do." 
 
 " There is no use in my seeing her," 
 said Turkheim ; " you will take care of 
 her. To meet her now would only inflict 
 fresh suffering on both of us." 
 
 " Selfish always !" muttered O'Connor 
 angrily between his set teeth. " To meet 
 her now may inflict some annoyance on 
 you, but nothing can cause her another 
 pang. The scene must end ; the girl must 
 be removed from your quarters, and she 
 will not go until you see her. So come 
 with me, and let us make an end of it. I
 
 220 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 tell you, Karl, that had I known the torture 
 I should witness, I would not have gone on 
 the damned humiliating errand on which 
 you sent me. I stood before that weak, 
 defenceless girl like a criminal, and though 
 I only acted for another, I quailed be- 
 for the majesty of outraged innocence. 
 Come !" 
 
 He took Turkheim's arm and hurried 
 him along. Karl seemed to have lost all 
 energy, and even the power of volition ; 
 he passively yielded to the direction given 
 to his movements by O'Connor's arm. 
 
 While O'Connor had been absent, Turk- 
 heim had sought an opiate or a stimulant 
 in the wine-flask which stood on O'Con- 
 nor's supper-table, and a heavy dull in- 
 toxication had begun to blunt all his per- 
 ceptions. 
 
 Clara sat still in the same attitude of 
 drooping hopeless despondency in which 
 O'Connor had left her ; but when she
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 211 
 
 heard the sound of Karl's footstep, she 
 started up, his bare presence roused her 
 to life as if by an electric shock. Ere he 
 could prevent her, she was kneeling at his 
 feet, her hands clasped in supplication, and 
 her eyes raised to his, their tears dried 
 away, and their blue orbs dilating in their 
 eager inquiring gaze. He strove to raise 
 her, but in vain. 
 
 " No, no," she cried, in a sharp thrilling 
 tone ; " have mercy on me, or let me die 
 at your feet/ 5 
 
 " Clara, dear Clara, it is I who should 
 kneel and grovel at your feet for pardon ; 
 would to Heaven I had left you as I found 
 you." 
 
 " That is past now ; I forgive you," 
 she said, eagerly catching at the faint hope 
 which his remorseful sorrow seemed to 
 hold out to her. " Send me not from you 
 now. I have no home but in your pre- 
 sence. The deceit you made me practise
 
 212 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 seems to have withered the love I once 
 bore to my father and mother ; while I 
 deceived them I loved them less. And 
 now, since you told me all since you 
 spoke those dreadful words, I have lived in 
 misery such as you cannot dream of. 
 When my father's face looked gloomy, I 
 felt my heart sickening with the fear that 
 he had discovered my treachery and false- 
 hood ; when my name was called sud- 
 denly, I started with the dread of hearing 
 the accusation of my shame. Karl, cast 
 me not off now, when I have nothing on 
 earth but you ; no friend, no shelter where 
 I could lay down my head to die." 
 
 " This is hell to me !" cried Turkheim, 
 as he struck his clenched hands on his 
 brow. " Speak to her, Allaster ; tell her 
 that she asks what is impossible." 
 
 O'Connor remained silent. 
 
 " Clarchen, I will provide for you ; I 
 will provide nobly for your child. I will
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 213 
 
 find you a home where you will live 
 honoured and happy, where my crime will 
 be unknown, and where the stain of it will 
 not fall on your fair fame. I will see you 
 often I will watch over your child but 
 I cannot keep you near me. Your pre- 
 sence would cause my ruin, and you would 
 not wjsh to be the destroyer of all my 
 hopes in life." Qi(t4 
 
 _f>" Your ruin your destroyer !" shrieked 
 the girl. She sprang to her feet, and a 
 deep flush rushed over the ghastly pale- 
 ness of her cheek. " What, then, have 
 you been to me ? Speak, as you shall 
 speak hereafter before God and all crea- 
 tion speak ! Say why do you fling me 
 away, when you have robbed me of home, 
 hope, fame, everything except life to feel 
 my misery T 
 
 " I am betrothed to another ; in a month 
 I shall be married to her," said Turkheim. 
 He wished to terminate this scene of boot-
 
 214 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 less suffering, and he struck this last de- 
 cisive blow, though he trembled when he 
 did so. 
 
 " Then you have betrayed me to ruin 
 without even the poor excuse of love," re- 
 torted Clara. A change passed over her ; 
 her drooping form rose to its full height, 
 and grew rigid as iron ; her quivering lip 
 curled, and fixed in steady defiance ; and 
 a deep deadly hatred spoke in the glitter- 
 ing of her eyes and the knitting of her 
 brow. The sorrowing angel was changed 
 to a demon. Turkheim cowered, and his 
 eyes fell before her gaze. She laid her 
 hand heavily on his head, as if she would 
 crush him to the dust ; there was a terri- 
 ble strength in that frail white arm. 
 
 " Hear me !" she said, in a hoarse deep 
 voice ; " may the woman you love abhor 
 you may she dishonour your name may 
 she love your bitterest enemy may your 
 sons die in the cradle, or live to tear your
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 215 
 
 heart, and embitter your dying hour may 
 your daughters be what you have made 
 me may heaven be shut against your last 
 cry for mercy, and may the memory of 
 my destruction dog your soul in hell !" 
 
 She darted out of the room. 
 
 " Follow her, Allaster I" cried Turk- 
 heim, who stood rooted to the spot where 
 she had left him. 
 
 O'Connor waited not for his desire. He 
 had followed Clara with a step as fleet as 
 her own, but he could not detain her ; she 
 had passed the sentries with the headlong 
 spring of a hunted wolf, and was lost to 
 fris pursuit in the narrow winding streets 
 of Frankenstein. 

 
 216 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 In she plunged boldly, 
 No matter how coldly 
 The rough river ran ; 
 Over the brink of it, 
 Picture it think of it, 
 Dissolute man ! 
 
 THOMAS HOOD. 
 
 O'CONNOR spent the greater part of the 
 night with Turkheim, who endured all the 
 misery of unrepentant remorse. The still 
 small voice of conscience in his breast mut- 
 tered a deep echo to the malediction of 
 Clara Herder ; the altered aspect and
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 217 
 
 blighted form of her who so lately bloomed 
 in the dewy prime of youth, and the 
 freshness of beauty, rose up accusingly be- 
 fore him ; the wild accents of her wail for 
 her lost honour and forfeit happiness, rang 
 on his ear more thrillingly than even the 
 curse she had pronounced on himself. 
 Fearful forebodings of the doom to which 
 she might rush in her frenzy of despair 
 haunted him with terrible anticipations 
 but yet he wavered not in his determina- 
 tion. He had more than life to preserve 
 his love and his honour were at stake. 
 If he acknowledged Clara's claim on him. 
 or if she could prove her accusation, he 
 should be convicted of having unfairly won 
 his bet from Count Waldstein, and Ottilie 
 were lost to him for ever. He would do 
 all bear all sacrifice life and soul rather 
 than make the damning confession of his 
 infamy, and place an impassable barrier 
 between him and Countess Zichy. He 
 
 VOL. II. L
 
 218 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 drank deep to escape from his misery ; 
 when Allaster attempted to leave him, he 
 implored him to remain a little longer. 
 All his energy seemed concentrated in 
 his resolution to resist to the last the dis- 
 graceful exposure that threatened him ; 
 but for everything else he seemed to have 
 become helplessly weak, and he clung to 
 Allaster for aid and sympathy, with an 
 almost morbid feeling of dependence. 
 
 " Good night, Karl," said Allaster at 
 length ; " you must be a man : the thing- 
 is irrevocable it is done and over ; to 
 meet and bear the consequences is all you 
 have now to do, and you will want all 
 your nerve and prudence for that pur- 
 pose. Do not yield to this miserable de- 
 spondency ; and above all, do not gulp 
 down the brandy at this rate." 
 
 " I think I shall go mad," replied 
 Turkheim ; " my brain is on fire already, 
 and yet the brandy cannot raise my 
 8
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 219 
 
 spirits." He extended his hand towards 
 the flask, but O'Connor snatched it from 
 him. 
 
 " This will never do !" said Allaster 
 impatiently, as striking the bottle against 
 the stove he shivered it to pieces. " Go 
 to bed ; sleep if you can, and trust me 
 with the care of Clarchen's safety. All 
 that man can do, I will do, to save her 
 from farther sorrow." 
 
 Turkheim fixed his swimming eyes on 
 the bold frank brow of O'Connor, and 
 strove to read his thoughts. 
 
 " I see what you are thinking of just 
 now," said Allaster, and a slight scornful 
 smile for a moment flitted over his curling 
 lip, though Karl, whose perceptions were 
 deadened by growing intoxication, did not 
 observe it, " I see what you are thinking 
 of, but you must not hope to catch me 
 falling into that pitfall. I guide my 
 course in life by a bright particular star, 
 
 L 2
 
 220 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 and I follow no man's footsteps. Good 
 night, Karl." 
 
 Neuperg had occupied Patschkau to 
 maintain his communication with Neiss, 
 and with all the rich country covered by 
 that important fortress. O'Connor had 
 received the Marshal's order to visit 
 Patschkau, and to inspect the small detach- 
 ment posted there. At an early hour on 
 the following day he prepared for his ride. 
 He had visited Turkheim, and finding him 
 asleep, hoped that he would awake with 
 so much of his senses about him as would 
 serve him on parade, to save him from 
 the comments or conjectures of his com- 
 rades, and from the censure of the Colonel. 
 Fritz had undertaken to trace Clara to 
 her retreat, wherever she might have con- 
 cealed herself, and was ready to set forth 
 on the search, aided by Turkheim's servant, 
 who was urged to exertion by the remem- 
 brance of the part he had played in the guilty
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 221 
 
 farce of which she was the victim. Ravine; 
 
 o 
 
 thus taken measures for the discharge of the 
 duty he had assumed to himself, Allaster 
 sprang into his saddle with all the brisk 
 cheerful consciousness of life and health, 
 which one seems to drink in with the very 
 air one breathes in the fresh dawn of a 
 fine day. He hailed this feeling of hope- 
 ful buoyancy as an indication of his reco- 
 very from the morbid state of causeless 
 depression of spirit which he had endured 
 for some time previous to Turkheim's 
 affair. 
 
 From Patschkau he sent an orderly with 
 his despatches to Neiss. The officers 
 asked him to dine with them ; they were 
 pleasant gentlemanly fellows, the wine was 
 good, and a merrier set never sent the 
 flask round a mess-table. It was evening 
 before O'Connor either could or would 
 break up the party. Tho direct road to 
 Frankenstein, a distance of fifteen miles,
 
 222 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 lay across a wide plain of unfenced fields, 
 and was a deep sandy tract ; the other route 
 by Wartha was longer, but it was a hard 
 highland road, winding among the spurs 
 of the Riesengebirge, which there shut in 
 the narrowing valley of the Neiss. 
 
 The sun was setting when he entered 
 the romantic gorge of the Wartha pass, 
 where the Neiss, yet untamed, full and 
 recent from its source, rushes foaming 
 along its rocky bed with the speed and the 
 roar of a mountain torrent. A twilight 
 shade, deepened by the shade of the pine- 
 woods and of the beetling cliffs, lay upon 
 his path. The light of the sinking sun 
 retreated from the valley, until the peak 
 of the Wartberg alone retained a last lin- 
 gering beam of the departing orb of day. 
 The small chapel which crowns the Wart- 
 berg, and is held in reverence by the cre- 
 dulous piety of the mountain peasants, 
 stood out against the cloudless sky, flushed
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 223 
 
 with the rosy light. O'Connor's eyes and 
 his thoughts were spell-bound in rapt ad- 
 miration ; but even as he gazed the gor- 
 geous hues paled from the landscape, a 
 soft purple tint stole like a transparent veil 
 over the scene, and then the russet grey 
 of evening settled upon all, and the light 
 and life of nature passed away together. 
 The spell which bound O'Connor's thoughts 
 vanished with the evanescent radiance 
 which had cast it on them ; they were set 
 free, and soon they wandered away far from 
 the giant mountains ; he forgot the wild revel 
 of the bivouac, and his gay gallant comrades 
 of the barrack and the tent. Truant memory 
 flew back to his forfeited home beyond the 
 seas, and his thoughts evoked, in their 
 silent and heartfelt worship, the image of 
 his first and only love. He rode on in a 
 musing reverie the past, the present, and 
 the future hope, regret, and memory 
 blending in his mind, and filling his breast
 
 224 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 with feelings at once soothing and 
 mournful. 
 
 The little town of Wartha slept in the 
 stillness of the hour as he rode through it 
 at a steady trot, the tramp of his Sicilian 
 rousing only some watch-dog, which bayed 
 for a moment in menacing challenge of the 
 intruder. As he advanced, the moon rose 
 over the inaccessible heights of the Silber- 
 berg, pouring her white, deceptive light on 
 his path. He had ascended a long emi- 
 nence, and having gained the summit, 
 he saw that the descent was more steep 
 and rugged, affording but unsafe footing 
 for a horse. With a sportsman's conside- 
 ration for his mare, he dismounted, and 
 drawing the rein over his arm, walked 
 slowly down the rocky road. Beneath 
 him lay a little glen, where a few old 
 gnarled trees flung their fantastic shadows 
 across the moonlight sleeping on the 
 grassy turf. He heard the murmur of 

 
 JULIA HOWARD. 225 
 
 water, rising and dying alternately with 
 the sighing of the night air, and he could 
 see here and there the silver line of the 
 stream winding its way to the Neiss. His 
 road crossed the bed of the stream at the 
 foot of a dam constructed apparently for 
 the purpose of floating timber. The broad 
 shallow sheet of water fell over the low 
 embankment, glittering like liquid glass in 
 the moonbeam, and above the dam the deep 
 dark pond lay within its fringe of willows, 
 whose feathery boughs trailed in the eddies 
 of the impeded stream. He put his foot 
 into the stirrup to mount the Sicilian, but 
 as he did so she started back, almost drag- 
 ging the rein from his grasp, and plunging 
 fiercely. 
 
 " You little fool, do you see the Erl 
 King V he said soothingly, while he 
 turned his head to discover the cause of 
 her fright. A form glided through the 
 willows, noiselessly as if it were but a 
 
 L 5
 
 226 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 wreath of white mist. It stood on the 
 bank of the pond. The idea of suicide 
 does not naturally present itself to the 
 mind of an Irishman ; his strong instinc- 
 tive love of the life to which he owes all 
 the pleasures which he enjoys with such 
 keen healthy relish, and his deep-rooted 
 religious principles, alike render self-de- 
 struction abhorrent to his nature. Allaster 
 resembled all his countrymen in this. He 
 gazed curiously on the figure, which ap- 
 peared to him indistinct in the obscurity, 
 without anticipating the purpose of its 
 presence there at such an hour. There 
 was a heavy plash in the water the gurg- 
 ling of the waves closing over their self- 
 devoted prey a moment's silence and 
 then a woman's shriek. Allaster cast 
 loose the rein on the mare's neck. To 
 spring on the dam, and to fling off his 
 sword and dolman, occupied but a moment 
 too brief for thought to measure.
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 227 
 
 He gazed into the pool where the cir- 
 Icing waves were yet spreading to the 
 banks. A white spot appeared on the 
 surface it sank again a gasping cry a 
 smothered cry of agony. He threw him- 
 self into the water. A sharp spasm of 
 pain told him that he had struck against 
 a sunken log, but he swam strongly in 
 spite of that, and reached the centre of 
 the pool just as the woman rose again in 
 the death struggle. He seized her, and 
 bore her to the shore ; fortunately she was 
 insensible, so that she could not fold him 
 in the fatal grasp. He gained the bank, 
 and laid her on the grass, but there his 
 strength failed, and he sank down by her 
 side overcome by the sick faintness of 
 pain. The moonlit sky, the earth, the 
 water, floated before his eyes ; they min- 
 gled, whirled, blended in fantastic chaos- 
 then all was darkness, and for a moment 
 he felt no more.
 
 228 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 This faintness could not long unnerve 
 his iron frame, so full of powerful vitality. 
 Sense returned, and with reviving con- 
 sciousness came the dizziness of pain, and 
 the shivering chill which follows loss of 
 blood. For a moment he could not re- 
 member what had occurred to him, but in 
 a few minutes his memory recalled all the 
 circumstances of his adventure. A violent 
 constrictive pain in his chest rendered his 
 respiration difficult. The blood was pour- 
 ing fast down his face from a wound on his 
 head. He bound his handkerchief round 
 his forehead to staunch the bleeding, and 
 then turned all his attention to the woman 
 he had rescued from the cold depth of the 
 wave. He raised her head on his knee, 
 parted the hair on her pallid brow, and 
 saw the deathlike, but yet beautiful face of 
 Clara Herder. 
 
 " God forgive you, Karl !" he muttered, 
 while he chafed her brow and her hands,
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 229 
 
 and wrung the water from her clothes, 
 and, in short, did all he could to restore 
 her to consciousness. The evaporation of 
 the water from her clothes contributed to 
 increase the icy coldness of her inanimate 
 form. He remembered that his cloak was 
 strapped to his saddle. A word and a 
 whistle brought Sissy to his side. He 
 wrapped the cloak round Clara, so as to 
 check the evaporation. He laid his hand 
 on her bosom ; it was cold as marble, 
 but he fancied that he could feel a faint 
 pulse trembling into life at her heart. En- 
 couraged by this hope, he continued his 
 unskilful but anxious efforts to restore the 
 suspended animation, and soon a faint sigh 
 from the lips of the unhappy girl rewarded 
 his cares. She opened her eyes, and gazed 
 around with a vacant stare, and again her 
 head sank on his knee, and her eyelids 
 closed in recurring insensibility. Allas- 
 
 //o-id tori
 
 230 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 ter's fears began to predominate over his 
 hopes. 
 
 He drew from his sabretashe the small 
 wicker-covered flask which, like most of 
 the hussars, he generally carried, and held 
 it to her lips, until he made her swallow a 
 few drops of the cherry-brandy which it con- 
 tained. It revived her more than all his 
 exertions for her resuscitation. She sat 
 up, and then leaned upon his breast, while 
 she feebly strove to clasp her arms round 
 him. 
 
 " My Karl my heart's treasure, you 
 will not part from me !" she murmured. 
 
 O'Connor did not speak ; he feared to 
 break the dream of illusory happiness 
 which seemed to allure her back to life. 
 He felt, as he sat supporting her, that the 
 cold of the autumnal night was freezing 
 the very blood in his veins, and raising 
 the flask to his lips, he drank a deep wel- 
 come draught.
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 231 
 
 " Come, Clara !" he said, in a tone of 
 cheerfiil command ; " come, Clara ! you 
 must exert yourself. Get up!" He 
 assisted her to rise. She knew him, and 
 a moan of hopeless misery burst from her 
 lips as she strove to obey him, but she was 
 still so weak that she could scarcely cling 
 to his arm for support. He made her 
 drink a few drops of the kirschwasser. 
 The cordial revived her. With some dif- 
 ficulty, and not without suffering extreme 
 pain at his chest, he lifted her into the 
 saddle, and then, while he supported her 
 with one arm, he led the Sicilian into the 
 road, and walking by her side, took the 
 road to Frankenstein. 
 
 " Why did you save me V 1 said Clara, 
 abruptly, and in a harsh, jarring tone. 
 
 " I saved you to repent -of this rash 
 deed, and to atone for it by a life of cou- 
 rageous endurance," replied Allaster, firmly, 
 though he felt his heart softening with a pity
 
 232 JULIA HOWAKD. 
 
 which he would not betray lest it should 
 encourage ker to give way to her grief. 
 He dreaded a paroxysm of lamentation 
 and tears. " Tell me, Clara, how came 
 you here T 
 
 " I do not know," she said, and she 
 gasped for breath as she spoke. " I wan- 
 dered about ever since I left Karl's room. 
 How long is it since then 1 I think I 
 know, and yet it seems like a far-off time. 
 I had hope then. This day, alone in that 
 wood I lay down to die, but I could not 
 die. Why did you not leave me in peace 
 in the water ? I want to die I cannot 
 live." 
 
 " Clara, can you rob your father of his 
 child V said O'Connor. 
 
 Clara spoke no more ; she sank into a 
 dull strange apathy, obeying O'Connor 
 with stupid submission, but seeming nei- 
 ther to feel joy nor regret for her deliver- 
 ance from death. The horrible resolution
 
 JULIA HOWAED. 233 
 
 which she had so nearly carried into exe- 
 cution had, as it were, severed her from 
 all the interests of this world. 
 
 Allaster, too, was silent. He knew that 
 words of comfort would fall without mean- 
 ing on her ear. The shock was too recent, 
 thQ grief too acute, to be alleviated by 
 mere argument. As he walked slowly on 
 beside her, he felt the wound on his head 
 becoming more painful as it grew stiff; 
 the sharp lancinating pain in his chest im- 
 peded his free breathing, and seemed to 
 compress his breast as if with a burning 
 band. Every moment the hot salt blood 
 rose bubbling in his throat and filled his 
 mouth. Every step he took, every breath 
 he drew, increased his sufferings ; and the 
 four miles he was obliged to walk seemed 
 to him, in his utter weariness, to be inter- 
 minably lengthened. At length the wel- 
 come rays of a few late lights yet twin- 
 kling from some of the houses of Franken-
 
 234 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 stein greeted his eyes with the cheering 
 promise of rest and shelter for Clara and 
 himself. 
 
 He stopped at the door of a small inn 
 on the outskirts of the town, and haying, 
 by good fortune, found the hostess still 
 a-foot, he committed Clara to her care. 
 The frau, a good - humoured motherly 
 body, received the poor girl with kindness, 
 and heard the little O'Connor chose to 
 tell of her story with wondering pity, and 
 a hundred exclamations of compassion. 
 Reaching his quarters, Allaster found 
 Fritz in extreme disquietude at his pro- 
 longed absence. 
 
 " Outer himmel, gnadiger Herr, you are 
 wet through I" exclaimed Fritz, as Al- 
 laster threw him the rein. 
 
 " Make up Sissy," said O'Connor, " and 
 then bring me some coffee, if you can 
 make it at this hour." 
 
 " You will find supper in your room,"
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 235 
 
 said Fritz, " and coffee on the stove, which 
 I lighted, thinking you might like a fire. 
 Captain Mackenzie is waiting for you." 
 
 " Weel, weel, there ye are safe and 
 sound," said Mackenzie, greeting him as 
 he entered his room ; " yon daft callant 
 Fritz wad fain hae frighted me anent your 
 outstaying. But I say, man, how come ye 
 sae droukit hame ? were ye mistrysted 
 with a kelpie 1" 
 
 " I was fishing a woman out of a 
 river, and have suffered in the service/' 
 said O'Connor, pointing to his bandaged 
 brow. 
 
 " The doctor must see you to-morrow, 
 or rather to-day, for it is one o'clock. Who 
 is the woman ye fished out of the river ? 
 and how came she to time her achieve- 
 ment so nicely with your presence ? I 
 doubt, laddie, that the lassie's gude name 
 will want a washing, though ye begin the 
 affair with a dip. Ye were ae making be-
 
 236 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 lieve ye were a douce wise man ; but for 
 a' that and a' that, ye have young bluid 
 and het in ye're veins." 
 
 " The secret, for secret there is, is none 
 of mine," said O'Connor ; " but tell me 
 how I find you here, Mac, you that never 
 willingly hear the chimes after midnight T 
 " From what Fritz said I was anxious 
 about you, so I just daidled in here to wait 
 for ye. Good night ; I'll bring the anato- 
 mist to see ye the day." 
 
 The cynic took himself off to his crib. 
 O'Connor could not eat, but he drank 
 some coffee, and threw himself into his 
 bed, where he soon forgot both pain and 
 weariness in the deep sleep of youth. 
 mei asw eaiomai to fc,go 
 fcagixj loimoO'O - ,bmm 
 .liormoo liodi otai oisnai: 
 D-sK w .bair^iB 9if ",t 
 aoiio . ad mdw btm < 
 v ggsn&teofi aid js
 
 JULIA HOWABD. 237 
 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 I woke where was I ? 
 
 MAZEPPA. 
 
 TURKHEIM was at O'Connor's bedside 
 before he woke. O'Connor's first words 
 on waking communicated the intelligence 
 of Clara's involuntary escape from the 
 guilty and abhorrent death of a suicide. 
 A fearful load of remorse was removed 
 from Karl's mind, O'Connor urged him 
 to take Mackenzie into their council. 
 
 "You see," he argued, "Mac already 
 suspects me, and when he once starts in 
 chase of a secret, his acuteness will soon
 
 238 JULIA HOWAED. 
 
 puzzle out the true scent. Better have 
 him on our side than encounter his caustic 
 jibes. If he find out your story by his 
 own mother wit, he will consider it his 
 own property, and look on you as fair 
 game for his sarcasm/' 
 
 Mackenzie was accordingly admitted to 
 the conclave. He heard Turkheim's self- 
 accusing narrative with a look of grave 
 concern, and a certain knitting of the 
 shaggy brows over the deepset grey eyes 
 which was ominous of bitter animadver- 
 sions. However, Karl escaped better than 
 he expected. 
 
 '' I am sorry, Karl," said the Scot, " that 
 you have wronged the maiden. The man 
 that first deceives an innocent trusting- 
 girl opens a heavy account against his 
 final reckoning ; all her future errors are 
 chargeable to him. But there is no use 
 in sermonizing ; O'Connor is laid up for 
 some time I am thinking, so I will go and
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 239 
 
 look after the girl, and, in the meantime, 
 do you take care of O'Connor, who has 
 suffered for your sins." 
 
 The surgeon came in at the moment to 
 examine Allaster's hurts. 
 
 " I am off !" cried Mac ; " I never 
 could bear the sight of Stilling's carving- 
 knives." 
 
 " There is no carving required here," 
 said the military -Galen, as he removed the 
 bandage from O'Connor's head and exa- 
 mined his swollen discoloured breast. 
 "This wound on the head is nothing, it 
 is not so bad as the Hulan's handiwork. 
 What is that 1" he added, as he saw the 
 blood soaking through the handkerchief 
 which O'Connor held to his mouth ; " ha ! 
 this contusion on your breast has caused 
 severe internal injuries you have three 
 ribs broken." 
 
 " Is he dangerously hurt V inquired 
 ' ' i . ,
 
 240 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 Turkheiin, whose feelings at the moment 
 were far from enviable. 
 
 " Not dangerously," said Stilling, 
 gravely, "but severely. Why, man, you 
 are a fortune for a practitioner, a walking 
 hospital in your proper person. Here is 
 now the third time you have come back 
 to my charge within two months." 
 
 " How long am I to remain here V in- 
 quired O'Connor, who began to fear that 
 he was really unable to perform his duty. 
 
 " My dear fellow, you will hardly see 
 the end of the campaign, unless we go into 
 winter quarters much later than usual this 
 
 year." 
 
 
 
 Stilling's forebodings touching the pro- 
 bable consequences of O'Connor's hurts 
 were verified to the letter. Days and 
 weeks elapsed ere he rose from his fever- 
 ish couch. The gun-shot wound in his 
 arm re-opened ; the grave injuries he had
 
 JULIA HOWABD. 241 
 
 .received ; the debilitating effects of cold, 
 fatigue, and loss of blood, all conspired to 
 throw him into lingering fever. Stillings' 
 care was unremitting ; but even his skill 
 and kindness were unable to hasten the 
 slow and fitful progress of O'Connor's re- 
 covery. 
 
 Turkheim, who looked upon himself as 
 in some measure the cause of his friend's 
 sufferings, watched over, him with untiring 
 and sedulous attention, such as only re- 
 morse could extort from the impatience of 
 manhood. And Mackenzie too, cynic and 
 stoic as he was, shared in the vigil of 
 
 soldierly friendship, for O'Connor had 
 
 
 found out the soft corner of his stern 
 
 heart, and like himself, alone in a strange 
 land, was unto him even as a brother. 
 
 At length the crisis of the fever was 
 past, the delirium ceased, the tense and 
 throbbing pulses lost their febrile velocity ; 
 but still no less requisite was the care of 
 
 VOL. n. M
 
 242 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 friends in the prostration of every mental 
 and bodily faculty. In a few days, how- 
 ever, youth began to exert its restorative 
 beneficent power, the full fresh tide of life 
 flowed back into his breast, and with re- 
 turning health reviving memory returned. 
 His recollections of recent events, at first 
 all tangled and distorted, grew clearer 
 and more clear, and he soon experienced 
 an awakening curiosity to hear the sequel 
 of his adventure. 
 
 It was a fine autumnal evening. O'Con- 
 nor lay musing pn the fate of the unfortu- 
 nate girl he had torn from the embrace of 
 death, and saved from that guilt which 
 alone appears, to mortal judgment, placed 
 beyond the pale of heavenly mercy. The 
 languid thrill of convalescence was in his 
 veins, diffusing through his whole being 
 those strangely voluptuous sensations of 
 mingling pleasure and lassitude which ac- 
 company recovery from long illness. The
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 243 
 
 dewy air from the open window fanned 
 his brow and wooed his lip with its invi- 
 sible caresses. The little garden beneath 
 his window looked fair in the golden and 
 crimson hues of autumn ; the sounds of 
 busy life from the streets, mellowed by 
 distance, came to his ear with a soothing 
 murmur. A shade fleeted over the gor- 
 geous sky ; the leaves of the tufted shrubs 
 rustled in the passing wind ; a short 
 sunny shower, bright as the tears which 
 laughter brings to the eyes, poured its big 
 drops on the warm earth ; it ceased ; the 
 wet leaves glittered in the westering sun, 
 
 and the birds, silenced a moment, once 
 
 
 
 more carolled their joyous vespers. Al- 
 laster watched all this with quiet pleasure, 
 and enjoyed it as if it were the first time 
 he had seen such an evening. He felt as 
 if nature were a sister whom he had met 
 after a long separation. 
 
 A slight noise attracted O'Connor's at- 
 
 M 2
 
 244 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 tention to the other side of the room, 
 Fritz, with a pen in his hand and a letter 
 before him, sat at a table, his glance wan- 
 dering with anxious watchfulness from the 
 half-written page to the face of his master. 
 He came to the bedside when he saw that 
 Allaster was awake. 
 
 " Where am I, Fritz "? this is not my 
 barrack-room," said O'Connor. 
 
 " Bewahre, nein !" answered the boy. 
 " The doctor wanted more air than the 
 kennel yonder afforded, and so the Mar- 
 shal ordered us to bring you to his own 
 quarters in this house, which belongs to 
 the Burgomaster. The young Herr Graf 
 
 
 
 gave up this room for you." 
 
 " Who are you writing to, Fritz T 
 " To Fraulein Alma, mein herr. I 
 must write to her every day. The Gene- 
 ral wrote to me twice, and sent me a 
 thousand florins, so I got on famously." 
 " My true-hearted old uncle !" muttered
 
 JULIA HOWAED. 245 
 
 O'Connor ; but another form then glided 
 before his soul, and Alma was not remem- 
 bered. He thought of Julia, far from the 
 land where he lived, but ever present to 
 his heart, even in the fierce frenzy of 
 fever. 
 
 At that moment Turkheim came in. 
 
 " I see you are all right now, Allaster !' 
 he cried, as he gave an inquiring look at 
 the pale but calm face of Allaster ; " you 
 know me at last." 
 
 " Lieber Karl," said O'Connor, " I am 
 able to thank you for your kindness ; no, 
 not able, but willing, my boy. My head 
 is none of the clearest as yet, but I can 
 remember that you were never absent 
 when I wanted a hand to smooth my pil- 
 low/' 
 
 "Mac was as attentive to you as I 
 was," said Turkheim, "and that without 
 being like me the cause of your illness. 
 
 " It is strange how I get into scrapes,"
 
 JULIA HOWAKD. 
 
 said Allaster ; " I am an unlucky dog 
 after all. If I were as wild as a hawk, I 
 could scarcely meet with more adven- 
 tures." 
 
 " And I still the cause," observed Karl ; 
 " even in your affair with Stanley I was 
 the cause/' 
 
 "I am not sorry for my escapade at 
 Vienna/' said Allaster ; " sooner or later 
 a man must fight, and he is lucky if he 
 gain anything by it except a character. I 
 got another friend by my affair with 
 Stanley ; I really like him he is a right 
 good fellow, with a true heart and a noble 
 spirit, hidden by his frippery affectation of 
 fashion and of sublime indifference." 
 
 " You like Stanley !" said Turkheim, 
 bitterly. " He has gained all friend and 
 mistress and I have lost all." 
 
 " Come, Karl," said O'Connor, " though 
 I like Stanley, he has not won your friend 
 from you. No drawing-room friendship
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 247 
 
 can equal the brotherly love of soldiers 
 like us." 
 
 He wrung Turkheim's hand in the grasp 
 of manly friendship. 
 
 Turkheim turned to the light, and for the 
 first time O'Connor observed the change 
 which had passed over his comrade. 
 
 "You are iU, Karl!" said O'Connor. 
 
 "Jtfot ill, but miserable," replied Turk- 
 heim. " Life has now no value or signifi- 
 cance for me. But you arc yet too weak 
 to listen to my story ; and besides, when 
 I allow myself to think of my lost happi- 
 ness, I am unmanned to very woman's 
 weakness." 
 
 " Tell me all, Karl ! Is Clara dead V 
 
 " She lives !" said Turkheim, impa- 
 tiently ; " all that fine tragedy of despair 
 is played out, and Mackenzie has settled 
 the matter with her father. She is gone 
 home, and I am to pay them five hundred 
 ducats a year for Clara's life ; if her child
 
 248 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 should be a son, I am to get him a com- 
 mission, and push him in the army ; if a 
 girl, I am to give her a dowry on her 
 marriage. Mackenzie arranged all this, 
 and I have purchased my liberty dog cheap, 
 for since my father's death I am rich. But 
 what avails wealth to me now ? what 
 care I for my liberty \ Ottilie is lost to 
 me for ever. Oh, I could curse myself 
 and that girl, whose credulous folly and 
 blind wanton abandonment to my will has 
 blasted all my hopes ! I was scarcely to 
 blame after all ; necessity and temptation 
 were too powerful for me ; but what man 
 could resist their combined force V 
 
 O'Connor was silent. He would not 
 speak in terms of harsh reproach to Turk- 
 heim, whose haggard face betrayed intense 
 suffering ; nor would he soothe him by 
 uttering one word of the common cant of 
 society, which exonerates the betrayer l.y 
 flinging the anathema on the head of the 
 victim.
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 249 
 
 " Sternberg discovered this miserable 
 business," continued Karl von Turkheim ; 
 " he wrote it to Ottilie. If he were not 
 her brother, I would soon teach him to 
 abstain from meddling with my affairs. 
 She sent me back my letters, and, without 
 a word of regret or reproach, she bade me 
 farewell for ever. If she had betrayed 
 anger or jealousy, I might still hope for 
 pardon ; but her few cold words of calm 
 contempt have killed every hope in my 
 breast. You cannot guess what I have 
 felt for the last few days you cannot 
 know what is the torture of wounded pride 
 and rejected love." 
 
 " In this at least we are brothers, Karl," 
 said O'Connor, much affected by the 
 broken-hearted tone of the dispirited sol- 
 dier. " I, too, have loved for years. I 
 love with a consuming passion which tri- 
 umphs over time, and burns on unextin- 
 guished by absence. Now you know why 
 
 M 5
 
 250 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 ray heart is cold as polar ice to every allure- 
 ment of pleasure. But, Karl, I do not 
 despair ; I have willed that she shall be 
 mine ; for her I endure the burning tor- 
 ture of smothered passion. I live but for 
 the woman I love, and nothing but death 
 can destroy the hope of possessing her. 
 Love like me and hope like me, and the 
 strength of will may conquer every obstacle 
 in your way." 
 
 " It is vain to speak of hope to me. 
 I have lost Ottilie," said Turkheim. " I 
 must force my thoughts away from this 
 forbidden topic." 
 
 " What is Neuperg doing V inquired 
 O'Connor ; " I know nothing of the history 
 of the last few weeks. So tell me what 
 has been done, and what is to be done." 
 
 " All is done and over/' said Turkheim ; 
 " on the eleventh of last month the Prus- 
 sians attempted to cross the Neiss at 
 Woitz, but they were defeated in this ob-
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 251 
 
 ject by the Marshal, who threw all our 
 cavalry, by a night march, upon the river 
 at the point where Frederick had esta- 
 blished his pontoon-bridge. The King- 
 would not expose the Berlin parade to be 
 cut off in detail, by crossing in the face of 
 our force, so he retreated to Michelau. 
 where he crossed on the 27th." 
 
 " Then Upper Silesia is at his mercy !" 
 exclaimed Allaster. 
 
 " True too true !" said Turkheim ; 
 " but this is not the whole sum of our 
 losses. The Elector and Belleisle have 
 occupied Ling they even menace Vienna. 
 Lord Hyndford and Robinson have urged 
 the Queen to make peace with Frederick, 
 and thus to break up the confederacy of 
 her enemies. The danger of the capital 
 has extorted her consent, and though she 
 has opened some negociations, she has not 
 yet acceded to Frederick's demands. Two 
 days since the Marshal met Frederick at
 
 252 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 Ober Sckellendorf, and signed an armistice. 
 Neiss is in the hands of the Prussians. 
 They have begun to take up their winter 
 quarters in this province and the nearer 
 circles of Bohemia. The Marshal, with 
 the main body of our army, is on his 
 march into Moravia." 
 
 " There has been no fighting, then 1" 
 said O'Connor. " How are all our fel- 
 lows r 
 
 " All well," said Turkheim ; " no steps 
 gone in the regiment. I think we shall 
 all live to a good old age, and die in em- 
 beds. We have been left here to escort 
 the hospitals to Glatz. As soon as the 
 wounded can move, we are to follow the 
 Marshal." 
 
 " I shall ask for a month's leave," said 
 O'Connor ; " as there is nothing doing, I 
 may as well run down to Durrenstein for 
 a few days." 
 
 " It is the best thing you can do/' said
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 253 
 
 Turkheim. " You will be near the scene 
 of war too, for all the army of Silesia has 
 been ordered to join the Duke of Lorraine 
 at Znaine-shear. Old Khevenhuller is 
 coming up from Vienna, and should the 
 Elector's movement on Prague leave Lob- 
 cowitz at liberty, he will also support the 
 Duke with the brigade now at Pilsen." 
 
 " Well, my course is clear," said Alias- 
 ter. " If I get leave I go to Durrenstein, 
 and the moment I can sit a horse I join 
 our fine fellows again." 
 
 " The post just come in, mein herr !" 
 said Fritz, as he handed a packet to Al- 
 laster. 
 
 Turkheim left O'Connor to his letters. 
 The packet contained a note from Alma, 
 and a letter with the English and Irish 
 post-marks. 
 
 O'Connor smiled as he glanced hur- 
 riedly over his cousin's few words of art- 
 less fondness and anxious tenderness ; but
 
 254 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 he almost trembled with eagerness as he 
 opened Colonel Herbert's despatch. 
 
 DEAR O'CONNOR, 
 
 Your letter, dated Vienna, has revived 
 all my old German reminiscences to a 
 wondrous degree. I almost think I shall 
 run over to you after the prorogation, and 
 treat myself to a turn at amateur soldier- 
 ing. I find I almost forget the sound of 
 the drum or the smell of powder. I hope 
 you have found Deepdene exactly what I 
 described him to you the best fellow on 
 earth, and a delightful companion. You 
 ask for news. There is not much worth 
 exporting. Tom Blake has got into a 
 scrape. The sheriff was looking after 
 him, so Tom sent some of the Knockmorc 
 lads to meet poor Bob Higgins ; they 
 beat his fellows within an inch of their 
 lives, and made Bob eat the writ, seal and 
 all ; though Bob first demurred on the
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 255 
 
 score of his conscience, it being Friday, 
 and parchment being meat ; his objection 
 was overruled with a tap of a stick. He 
 then begged them to steep it in whiskey ; 
 this they had not at hand, so they made 
 him wash it down with ditch-water, 
 though he pleaded that he was too old to 
 be put through the elements. However, 
 as he had been dragging home a young 
 wife but the week before, he was not al- 
 lowed to refuse the proposed course of 
 study on the excuse of his age. Bob is 
 furious and vows vengeance, and Tom is in 
 a terrible fright, and only shows on Sun- 
 days. I am going to register every man I 
 can qualify. The Orange party are trying 
 to get up a coalition to oust me. They 
 had better take care how they meddle 
 with me. Sir John is at his old tricks. 
 He is such an inveterate double-dealer, that 
 if his return depended on his walking up 
 to the hustings openly, he would forfeit his 

 
 256 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 seat by skulking through the lanes and 
 bye-ways. Temple is backing out of his 
 engagement with me. He says he made 
 me no promise of support, but merely ex- 
 pressed an intention of supporting me. 
 Eel as he is, I shall find means to hold 
 him to his word, and make an honest man 
 of him. The Lord Lieutenant gives a 
 challenge cup to the next Curragh meet- 
 ing. I have entered my colt, young Go- 
 dolphin, for it. He is out of the brown 
 mare. The late doings of his brother Lath 
 have damaged my book ; the knowing 
 ones will do nothing against him they 
 say the race is his own. The filly you 
 broke for Julia has turned out right well, 
 but is almost spoiled by idleness and pam- 
 pering. The women never can bear to 
 give a good nag a chance. 
 
 Your brother has purchased back 
 Glen Clara from Plunket. He has got 
 into a bad set, and is ruining himself stu-
 
 JULIA HOWAKD. 257 
 
 pidly with a lot of low blacklegs and un- 
 gentlemanly roues. Father Eustace and 
 Bryan have left Glen Clara. I have em- 
 ployed Bryan as wood-ranger, and have 
 settled him at the Recess. Father Eus- 
 tace lives with him there. The old man 
 is breaking fast ; while we were in the 
 country Julia went frequently to see him. 
 
 Charley is here. He is on the Duke's 
 staff. He and Julia are inseparable ; but 
 though they are not to be married for 
 some months, they seem to have fallen 
 into the quiet jog-trot of a very sober 
 happiness. She is not very strong. The 
 gaiety of this place is too much for her. 
 She is certainly the reigning beauty of this 
 year, and I often wonder how philosophi- 
 cally Charley endures the crowd of adorers 
 which surrounds her every night. After 
 all, she gives him no cause for jealousy. 
 Oscar is the only puppy she patronizes. 
 
 1
 
 258 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 This is a woman's letter. I deserve 
 praise for my skill in gossipping. 
 Yours truly, 
 
 ARTHUR HERBERT. 
 
 Herbert House, Dublin. 
 
 " She loves me still !" murmured O'Con- 
 nor, with passionate tenderness, as he 
 gazed on Julia's name. " She loves me 
 still, and never will she place between us 
 the barrier of that loathsome loveless mar- 
 riage. Julia pulse of my heart soul of 
 my soul thou shalt yet be mine." 

 
 JULIA HOWARD. 259 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 07jf .^^< " 
 
 Her spirit pointed well the steel, 
 Which taught that felon heart to feel ; 
 I watched my time I leagued with these 
 The traitor in his turn to seize ; 
 My wrath is wreaked the deed is done 
 And now I go but go alone. 
 
 BYRON. 
 
 O'CONNOR'S convalescence progressed 
 rapidly. He was already able to travel 
 when the day came, on which the ambu- 
 lance, escorted by the Gordon hussars, was 
 to move out of Frankenstein. He had ob- 
 tained his leave. Turkheim also had got
 
 260 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 leave, for which he applied, because he 
 would not tamely yield to despair, and 
 resign Ottilie von Zichy without an effort 
 to soothe her outraged feelings, and win 
 her back to her repentant lover. He set- 
 tled with Allaster that they should travel 
 together as far as Vienna, whence the one 
 should follow Ottilie to her schloss on the 
 Flatten See, while the other returned to 
 Durrenstein. 
 
 On the evening before their journey, 
 they strolled along the river. At some 
 distance from the town, they seated them- 
 selves on a fallen tree. Around them were 
 cliffs clothed with thick copse, and before 
 them the rippling stream. Turkheim 
 smoked. O'Connor, to whom that luxury 
 was forbidden by Stilling, sat listening to 
 the whirring call of the snipe among the 
 reeds, and to the low splash caused by the 
 trout which were rising merrily as the 
 evening flies skimmed over the water.
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 20 1 
 
 They sat long in silence, although their 
 late adventures had increased their inti- 
 macy, and led them into habits of unre- 
 served confidence. Allaster was silent, 
 because, while the stillness of the evening, 
 and the lulling murmurs of the stream 
 sank with a deep soothing influence on his 
 senses, rendered more impressionable by 
 recent illness, his thoughts dwelt with hope 
 and trusting love on Julia ftillsci't. Turk- 
 heim was silent, because some uneasy 
 thought was gnawing at his heart's core. 
 He was, however, the first to speak. 
 
 " Allaster," he said, abruptly, " do you 
 believe in presentiments 1" 
 
 " My feelings believe in them, although 
 my reason rejects them/' replied O'Con- 
 nor ; " reason tells me that the destinies 
 of this earth and all its inhabitants were 
 fixed before eternity gave birth to time, 
 and yet I am not free from the super- 
 stition which clings to the soul of every
 
 262 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 Irishman. But why do you ask this ques- 
 tion, Karl V 
 
 " Because I wish to speak the thought 
 which oppresses me. For days I have felt 
 as if some evil impended over my head. I 
 can talk and laugh only with my lips ; 
 even in the noisiest hour of our revel I 
 hear a menacing voice muttering in my 
 breast a dark prophecy of coming ill. I 
 feel as if something invisible and yet im- 
 passable formed a barrier between me and 
 all around me. Is it not strange 1 Clara's 
 face, too, haunts me as I saw it last, when 
 she hurled her blasting curse at my 
 head." 
 
 " You cannot forget the unhappy girl," 
 said Allaster ; " perhaps you feel some 
 remorse for your conduct to her perhaps 
 your health is injured. Any of these 
 causes might be sufficient to create a 
 nervous depression of spirit. When you 
 leave this place, and see Countess Zichy 
 
 5
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 2G3 
 
 once more, you will find that all these pre- 
 sentiments are but the false whispers of 
 an unquiet spirit. A real, deep-felt sorrow, 
 or a real keenly-enjoyed pleasure, disturb- 
 ing the current of your life, may dispel 
 those dark shadows, as this stone cast into 
 the stream breaks and banishes the gloomy 
 reflexion of that pine/' 
 
 He threw a stone as he spoke into the 
 darkening stream, where the reflexion of 
 an aged pine was painted in deeper hues 
 on the grey, soft tints of the water. The 
 form of the pine was scattered for a mo- 
 ment, but as the light ripple roused by 
 the sinking pebble subsided, the sombre 
 shadowy image returned to its place. 
 
 " The shadow returns more spectral 
 than before," said Turkheim, gloomily. 
 After another silence he continued, " I 
 shall be glad to leave this place. I have 
 suffered much in that old town. A cir- 
 cumstance has occurred which, though I
 
 264 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 scarcely like to mention it to you, so 
 vague are the suspicions which it excites, 
 yet tends to disturb my mind to an into- 
 lerable degree." 
 
 " What is it, Karl ? Come, out with 
 the secret ; let us have no half confi- 
 dences." 
 
 " For several days," said Turkheim, ? I 
 have been dogged by a man whose face I 
 have never seen. When I open my window 
 every morning, I see him pacing the 
 street ; at night, when I walk from the 
 barrack to the Schwager Adler, where we 
 sup, I see him but a few paces distant 
 from me. He is always there, wrapped in 
 his cloak, and the upper part of his face 
 hidden by a broad Sclavonian hat. If I 
 stand and challenge him, he stands and 
 faces me in silence. If I advance on him, 
 and try to close with him, he retreats, and 
 disappears for the moment." 
 
 " Is your persecutor like Herder T in-
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 265 
 
 quired O'Connor, who began to think that 
 this haunting apparition was very earthly 
 and very dangerous. " Have you ever- 
 showed fight V 
 
 " Once, as he stood taunting me with 
 his silent menace, in the full moonlight, I 
 presented a pistol at him ; he laughed, 
 and made no movement of defence or flight. 
 I could not fire on an unarmed man." 
 
 " Have you pointed him out to any of 
 our fellows 1" asked O'Connor. 
 
 " No, I feared their ridicule/' replied 
 Turkheim ; " when they are with me I 
 dare not even turn my head to see this 
 devil, and yet I feel that he is there I 
 feel his fixed gaze. If I saw a real peril 
 if he met me as a deadly foe, unmasked 
 and openly, I would not flinch ; but as it 
 is, I shrink with a superstitious involuntary 
 dread from his presence." 
 
 A mocking laugh answered Turkheim 's 
 words. It proceeded from the copse be- 
 
 VOL. II. N
 
 2b'b' JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 hind their seat. The two young men 
 darted into the thicket. It was thick 
 with underwood, which shut out the fading 
 twilight, so that their search was vain. 
 They returned to their seat on the fallen 
 pine, and there they saw that their con- 
 cealed enemy had visited the place. Three 
 small pieces of bark were cut from the 
 trunk of the tree, and a knife was stuck 
 into the wood. 
 
 O'Connor took up the knife it was a 
 sort of hunting knife, with a straight long 
 blade, sharp at both sides, and a rough 
 staghorn haft, with a small metal plate 
 encrusted into one side. The little light 
 which remained enabled O'Connor to read, 
 engraved on this plate, the letters S. S. 
 G. G. 
 
 " What mummery is this V he said, as 
 he handed the knife to Turkheim, and 
 showed him the letters upon it, and the 
 three chips of bark laid beside it.
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 2C7 
 
 ..<*'Itis no mummery," said Turklieim ; 
 " it is a warning of near and certain danger. 
 Have you ever heard of the Vehm and the 
 Red earth V 
 
 " You mean the secret tribunal of West- 
 phalia ?" said O'Connor. " Of course I 
 know all about it ; but surely that myste- 
 rious power is extinct. Has it not expired 
 with the other institutions of the middle 
 ages V 
 
 " It has fallen into desuetude, without 
 having been formally abolished," replied 
 Karl. " Princes and nobles no longer 
 meet at midnight beneath the sacred 
 linden, criminals no longer appear at the 
 bidding of the midnight heralds to hear 
 their doom, the holy Vehm is not recog- 
 nised by the empire as the irresponsible 
 and irresistible representative of God's pro- 
 vidence and justice. But the peasants yet 
 meet at Gehmeu in Westphalia, they take 
 the oath of secresy, and fulfil all the cere- 
 
 N 2
 
 268 JCJLIA HOWARD. 
 
 monies of the Velim, as recorded by tradi- 
 tion ; everywhere throughout Germany 
 you may find among the peasantry some 
 of the initiated, whom their compeers re- 
 gard with mingled awe and reverence. 
 These men still claim a right to judge be- 
 tween the noble and the vassal. To these 
 self-constituted judges the peasant appeals 
 when he demands vengeance for any real 
 or fancied wrong, which the common law 
 cannot redress or avenge. He declares 
 his wrong before the Wise Ones at their 
 place of meeting, and on his oath the ac- 
 cused is condemned. The sentence pro- 
 nounced at the Malplatz is held to justify 
 the assassination it commands. The three 
 chips, and the knife with the mysterious 
 letters engraved on it, warn me that I 
 have been doomed to death." 
 
 " What do the letters mean V asked 
 O'Connor. 
 
 " Stock, stein, gras, grein : stick, stone,
 
 JULIA HOWA11D. 26.9 
 
 grass, grief," replied Turkheim ; " the ini- 
 tiated alone know what is the occult 
 meaning attached to these words, but be- 
 yond the pale of the association they are 
 supposed to express the sentence of death 
 by dagger, rope, or poison." 
 
 " You must make your arm keep your 
 head, Karl," said O'Connor ; " so said the 
 Colonel to me when Richler fired at me. 
 But threatened men live long ; so I am 
 not much afraid of your mysterious perse- 
 cutors. It is strange that they should 
 give you a warning which must endanger 
 the success of their plans. Assassins should 
 strike in silence." 
 
 " They like to sip their vengeance drop 
 by drop," said Turkheim. " Besides, by 
 thus invoking the sanction of the secret 
 tribunal they secure the connivance or the 
 aid of the peasantry. Not a peasant in 
 Germany would raise his voice to warn me 
 of my danger, or extend his arm to ward
 
 270 JULIA HOWARD, 
 
 off the blow, if he saw the dagger at my 
 back. But no matter, Allaster ; since the 
 danger has taken a tangible form, I care 
 but little for it. A strong arm and a true 
 blade shall judge between me and Herder. 
 After all, I did his family some honour." 
 
 " An honour that I, in his place, would 
 wash out with your blood, Karl," said 
 O'Connor. " I pray you do not make a 
 jest of that business. Forget it if you can. 
 But on my life, Herder has nothing to do 
 with this plot. I- know him well. I have 
 spent days with him angling in the forest 
 streams near Hochberg, and a more honest, 
 honourable man never walked on the face 
 of God's earth, nor looked up to God's 
 heaven with the trusting and quiet confi- 
 dence of a clear conscience. So long as 
 he accepts the dower you have settled on 
 his daughter, you are safe from any ven- 
 geance from him." 
 
 They reached the town while thus talk-
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 271 
 
 ing, and turned into the Schwarzer Adler 
 inn, where the hussars messed. O'Connor 
 was joyously received by his comrades ; 
 the supper was long, and the carouse was 
 merry and deep, so that it was late when 
 they adjourned to the barracks. Turkheim 
 and O'Connor stayed behind the others to 
 arrange with the host about the horses 
 for their journey. The war had broken 
 up the ordinary posting arrangements, so 
 that the host of the Adler, who supplied 
 the first team, was obliged to apply to a 
 friend of his, who was a farmer near 
 Reinerz, to furnish a set of fresh horses to 
 take the travellers on to Saromirg, where 
 post-horses might be found. The distance 
 to Saromirg by the cross roads, which mine 
 host intimated it would be advisable to 
 take, was about fifty miles, a long journey 
 with two teams of farm-horses on moun- 
 tain roads. However, as there was no 
 other means of making out their journey.
 
 272 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 the young soldiers agreed to the plan pro- 
 posed, paid for the horses, and named the 
 hour at which they would set out. 
 
 " I am sorry you made our arrange- 
 ment in the yard of the inn," said O'Con- 
 nor. " While you were speaking to the 
 inn -keeper, I think I saw a tall man in a 
 cloak lurking in the shadow of the stable- 
 gate, and within ear-shot. I searched the 
 
 place, however, but I could find no one in 
 1 /ToiaKilA WAS ,?.iroi 
 
 the archway. 
 
 Before O'Connor betook himself to his 
 quarters at the Burgomaster's, he escorted 
 Turkheim to the barracks. On the way 
 they looked in vain for Karl's mysterious 
 follower; but on the table in Turkheim's 
 room they found a packet, which his ser- 
 vant ~said had been delivered by a very 
 tall masculine woman, who seemed to 
 shun recognition by the care with which 
 she muffled herself in a large hooded 
 cloak.
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 273 
 
 '" See 1" said Turkheirn, as he handed 
 the parcel to Allaster. It contained the 
 deed by which Karl had settled the an- 
 nuity on Clara, and a letter, in which were 
 written these words, " Whoso sheddeth 
 man's blood, by man shall his blood be 
 shed. The broken heart slays as surely 
 as the knife. Life for life ! death for 
 death !" 
 
 " This is serious," said Allaster, gravely. 
 He returned slowly to his quarters, mus- 
 ing over the strange event of the evening. 
 Fritz Dwyer was in grievous tribulation 
 because he was to remain with the regi- 
 ment, Mackenzie having promised to look 
 after him, and to work O'Connor's horses, 
 and see them taken care of in his absence. 
 But in spite of poor Fritz's remonstrances 
 at the cruelty of his fate, he was obliged 
 to pack his master's portmanteau, to clean 
 and load his pistols, and to complete all 
 the preparations for the journey before he
 
 274 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 ished him good night. When O'Connor 
 found himself alone, he stood at the open 
 window, meditating on Turkheim's posi- 
 tion, until the church clock tolling mid- 
 night warned him to retire to rest. He 
 was about to shut the casement, when a 
 stone, thrown from the garden, rolled into 
 the room. He picked it up, and found 
 wrapped round it a slip of paper, with 
 these words upon it, " Beware ! separate 
 yourself from Karl von Turkheim. He is 
 doomed, the avenger will not spare ; in- 
 volve not yourself in his peril." 
 
 Allaster seized his sword in one hand, 
 with the other grasped the window-sill, 
 and letting himself down until his foot 
 found a resting-place on the stem of the 
 vine trained over the wall, he sprang into 
 the garden. 
 
 The threats of danger to Turkheim were 
 beginning to assume the appearance of a 
 mystification, which tended to excite his
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 275 
 
 contempt for the warning, and his anger 
 at the contrivers of this melodramatic 
 plot. Had he found his anonymous cor- 
 respondent, he would have administered a 
 little wholesome chastisement, without re- 
 spect to the apparently friendly meaning 
 of the singular missive he had received. 
 He searched, but he searched in vain; he 
 traversed every thicket of shrubs, every 
 alley of the espaliers ; but he could find 
 no one. The gate was locked ; the nar- 
 row street beyond was still ; there was no 
 trace of the visitor's passage, except that 
 the clematis, covering an arbour near the 
 gate, was torn from the trellice, as if some 
 one had climbed by it to the wall. Not 
 wishing to disturb the slumbers, or to ex- 
 cite the curiosity of the. Burgomaster's 
 pretty daughters, by knocking for admit- 
 tance to the house, he looked about for the 
 gardener's ladder, by the aid of which he 
 escaladed his domicile.
 
 276 JULIA HOWARD, 
 
 They had ordered the horses for six 
 o'clock, but in spite of mine host's pro- 
 mises, they did not make their appear- 
 ance until ten o'clock, something having 
 been found wrong about the caleche. 
 However, all was right at last, and they 
 started. Turkheim was more than usually 
 taciturn. He believed that Clara was 
 dead, and something like sorrow was 
 stirring in his breast. He was as brave a 
 fellow as ever belted sword or buckled 
 spur ; but yet the menaces of his secret 
 enemies were not without some effect on 
 his mind. The feeling that a doom was 
 pronounced upon him, that a murderer 
 dogged his steps, heard his words per- 
 haps, noted perhaps his gestures, and 
 meted out his numbered minutes, clung to 
 his very soul with the weight of an invisi- 
 ble but rivetted fetter. He felt that he 
 was not free. 
 
 O'Connor was glad that he accompa-
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 nied Turkheim, although the very man- 
 ner in which the menaces were conveyed 
 induced him to despise them. The at- 
 tempt to revive the dark terrors of the 
 Vehm on such an occasion, and to in- 
 vest the private revenge of a peasant with 
 the awful sanction of that inscrutable tri- 
 bunal, was, in his estimation, rather the 
 clumsy device of a stage villain than the 
 act of a determined, single-minded man, 
 seeking, from his own fixed heart and 
 strong arm, a bloody vengeance for an 
 unatonable wrong. He tried several times 
 to rouse Turkheim from his abstraction, 
 but without more than a momentary and 
 imperfect success ; so abandoning him to 
 the reflections which seemed to pre-occupy 
 him, he threw himself back in his corner, 
 and was soon deep in the sparkling but 
 icy stream of wit which Voltaire pours 
 over the pages of Zadig. 
 
 The journey to Reinerz was made in
 
 278 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 silence. It was a soft grey day ; one of 
 those autumnal days, when the mellow 
 beauty of creation receives a touching and 
 mornful charm from the first light hues of 
 incipient decay. We would fain cling to 
 those days, and woo them to stay their 
 swift, silent flight; just as in our own lives 
 we seek to linger over the last years of 
 parting youth, and treasure the melan- 
 choly sweetness of our last loves, because 
 we feel that the one can return no more, 
 and that the others are indeed the last. 
 Such days exercise a profoundly depress- 
 ing influence on most men; our blood 
 seems to flow in slower pulses ; our spirits 
 respond less buoyantly to the call of hope, 
 and yield more readily to the touch of sor- 
 row ; our reason revolts against this invo- 
 
 c 
 
 luntary and mysterious accord of our own 
 natures with the universal nature, yet we 
 must endure its strange despotism. Both 
 O'Connor and Turkheim experienced this
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 279 
 
 sympathy with the external world ; and it 
 was only by an effort that they were able, 
 at last, to shake it off. 
 
 The farm where the host of the Schwarz- 
 er Adler had procured the relay of horses, 
 which should take the travellers on to Sa- 
 romirg and bring back his caleche, lay be- 
 tween Reinerz and Korlsberg. It was a 
 solitary homestead, surrounded by orchards 
 and groves of trees forming an oasis of syl- 
 van loveliness amid the lonely fertility of 
 the wide plain, where the ripe and rust- 
 ling corn was waving for miles around. 
 
 In Germany the villages crouch, hidden 
 in the little valleys the cattle are kept in, 
 and the traveller's eye ranges to weariness 
 over the rich solitudes of the cultivated 
 land. When the hussars reached the farm 
 they found it almost deserted, the farmer 
 and his wife and children being busy with 
 their harvest labours ; but there was no- 
 thing to complain of, for the team was
 
 280 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 ready, a young ploughman was prepared 
 to drive, and a dainty stubenmadel pre- 
 pared their dinner, and waited on them 
 while they did ample justice to her good 
 cheer. 
 
 The dinner consisted of sportsman's 
 fare, a couple of trout and a brace of 
 partridges. The girl was beautiful, and ap- 
 parently of gipsey extraction. Her figure, 
 lithe, rounded, graceful, and agile as a 
 young leopardess, bore no resemblance 
 to the massive German type. The profuse 
 black hair, finely- chiselled features, clear 
 brown skin, large lustrous eyes fringed 
 with silky lashes, and the rich hue of her 
 curving lips, betrayed the generous blood 
 and ardent temperament of the child of 
 the East ; so did also the fine ancle and 
 arched foot, which her short petticoat dis- 
 played most coquettish ly. 
 
 " What a magnificent creature !" ex- 
 claimed Turkheim in French, as the girl
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 281 
 
 replied to his gaze of admiration by sud- 
 denly casting on him one of the magnetic, 
 intoxicating glances of a woman who 
 knows all the powers of her beauty. " If 
 we should be quartered anywhere near 
 here, I will see this flower of the fields 
 once more." 
 
 "The gipsey is pretty, certainly," said 
 O'Connor ; " and so are the birds. If we 
 should be quartered near here, I shall try 
 for some partridge-shooting in those enor- 
 mous stubble-fields." 
 
 " By Jove, Allaster, you would provoke 
 a saint," exclaimed Karl. " I show you a 
 delicious houri, and you say, * The gipsey is 
 pretty,' in the very tone of a priest of four- 
 
 O ' 
 
 SC re< " ., O/tt **0 tolHlJ 
 
 " If you were just after a fever, and 
 consequently wolfishly ravenous," said Al- 
 laster, laughing, "you would value a plump 
 partridge more than all the pretty gipsey s 
 in the parish.;;.^
 
 282 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 The horses were put to, the bill paid, 
 O'Connor jumped into the carriage, fol- 
 lowed by Karl, who had snatched one kiss 
 from the kellnerin, and had been allowed 
 by the relenting beauty to take another, 
 with only so much resistance as enhanced 
 its value. 
 
 Soon after the travellers had halted at 
 the farm, a man, mounted on a stout, 
 shaggy pony, appeared in their track. He 
 turned his horse loose to graze in the 
 wood, and then crept, cautiously and 
 stealthily, into the orchard. An old ap- 
 ple-tree, whose laden boughs, drooping to 
 the turf, formed a tent round the trunk, 
 attracted his attention. He raised a 
 bough, crept in, and lay crouching in the 
 shade while the travellers remained in the 
 house. Unseen himself, he saw everything 
 that was done about the house. 
 
 So soon as the carriage rolled by his 
 lurking-place he quitted his concealment,
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 283 
 
 mounted his pony, and followed the travel- 
 lers, at a distance which enabled him to 
 exercise a vigilant watch on them, without 
 exposing him to their observation. 
 
 The dinner, prolonged by Karl's flirta- 
 tion, had wasted more than an hour, so 
 that it was late ere the travellers were 
 again on the road. Karl's spirits had 
 gained the ascendency over his presenti- 
 ments. The fresh breeze blowing in his 
 face, the rapid motion, the wine he had 
 drunk, and the gipsey girl's witching eyes, 
 were, all combined, too much for the blue- 
 devils. The dolorous imps were fairly 
 routed, and the two young soldiers laughed 
 and chatted gaily, while their fresh team, 
 sportingly handled by their agricultural 
 whip, in spite of his blouse, whirled them 
 merrily over the wide plains, bounded by 
 the blue and misty heights of the Sudetic 
 mountains. 
 
 The short twilight was fading into
 
 284 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 night, and the moon, high in heaven, grew 
 brighter and more bright, as the glory of 
 the sunset paled from the west. They 
 had left the corn-fields behind, and now 
 on every side extended broad unfenced 
 pasturages, interspersed with thickets of 
 copse-wood. Small ponds glittered here 
 and there in the dim light, herds of cattle 
 grazed in scattered groups in the tall grass. 
 The rooks, winging their homeward way, 
 cawed clamorously over head ; the hol- 
 low, melancholy roar of a bull sometimes 
 rolled over the pasture. No house, no 
 smoke, no sign of human occupancy, gave 
 life to the solitude. As they proceeded on 
 their journey the ground became more un- 
 dulating, and the mountain, assuming more 
 form and substance, stood out more darkly 
 defined against the silvery blue of the 
 moon-lit sky. 
 
 The horses began to flag, and the 
 ploughman, to relieve them, dismounted at
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 285 
 
 every long low swell of the ground, and 
 walked beside his horse until he reached 
 the summit. The chill of the night air 
 struck cold on O'Connor's blood, for he 
 had not yet regained all his native hardi- 
 ness. He drew the leathern curtains of 
 , the caleche and threw himself back in his 
 corner. Turkheim was already asleep, 
 and O'Connor was just losing all conscious- 
 ness of external things, when the tramp of 
 a horse passing the caleche at full speed, 
 aroused him. He looked out, and saw the 
 man who had so untiringly tracked them 
 all the day, sweeping, at the top of his 
 nag's speed, across the plain on the right 
 hand. Allaster drew in his head, and in 
 a few minutes was sound asleep. The 
 carriage rolled on the travellers slept 
 the moon was high in heaven the cattle 
 lay on the dewy grass, and still the plain 
 was solitary f j{ 
 
 The sudden stopping of the carriage
 
 286 JULIA HOWAKD. 
 
 roused the sleepers. They woke with a 
 start the curtains of the caleche were 
 roughly torn back the carriage was sur- 
 rounded by men armed, masked, and 
 muffled in dark bundas. 
 
 " Yield," said the leader of the bandits, 
 masked like his followers. 
 
 " Never !" exclaimed Turkheim. He 
 seized his sabre and threw himself out of 
 the carriage. The bandit parried his 
 thrust with his clubbed musket, and in a 
 moment more the sabre was shivered to 
 the hilt, and Turkheim was unarmed and 
 pinioned in the grasp of two of the out- 
 laws. 
 
 O'Connor fired one of his pistols; the 
 ball passed through the hat of one of the 
 assailants; the second pistol missed fire, 
 he flung it from him, and grasped his 
 sabre which lay on the front seat of the 
 carriage ; but, before he could draw it, 
 three of the bandits threw themselves on
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 287 
 
 him, disarmed him, and passing a rope 
 round his arms, pinioned him as they just 
 before secured Turkheim. The postilions 
 had before been secured in the same rough 
 but effectual manner. 
 
 The attack of the bandits, thus far com- 
 pletely successful, had been boldly exe- 
 cuted ; and appeared, to judge by the 
 silent celerity of their proceedings, to have 
 been maturely considered in all its details. 
 Not a word was spoken by any of the 
 masked and armed outlaws, after the first 
 stern summons to surrender, uttered by 
 the leader. O'Connor and Turkheim were 
 not permitted to speak to each other. At 
 a signal given by the chief, the horses 
 were taken from the caleche, and tied to 
 the trunk of a tree; the postilion was 
 lifted into the carriage; and two ponies 
 were led up to the captives, who by a silent 
 gesture of the chief were commanded to 
 mount. Resistance was alike impossible
 
 288 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 and unadvisable. They obeyed. The 
 outlaws, twelve in number, surrounded the 
 captives ; and following their chief, passed 
 swiftly across the plain towards the moun- 
 tains. As they rode side by side, O'Connor 
 once spoke to Turkheim ; but he had 
 scarcely uttered a word, when the man 
 who led his pony placed one finger of his 
 own lip, and another on the trigger on his 
 musket. O'Connor thought it more pru- 
 dent to acquiesce in the wishes of his 
 captors, thus significantly expressed. 
 
 The outlaws and the prisoners traversed 
 the plain, bathed in the full moonlight ; 
 they mounted a swell, descended it on the 
 other face, passed through a grove of 
 aged trees, and crossing a shallow stream 
 directed their course towards a wall of 
 rock, dark, jagged, and massive as the 
 battlements of an ancient city, which rose 
 before them, towering in fantastic and 
 giant masses, and extending to the base
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 289 
 
 of the Hensheune, the highest peak of the 
 mountain frontier of Silesia. The uncer- 
 tain and silvery light of the moon resting 
 on every angle, left the recesses of the 
 rocks in obscurity. The bandit leader 
 guided his band towards one deep mass of 
 shadow, and passing into it was lost to 
 O'Connor's view. One by one the other 
 outlaws followed. In their turn the cap- 
 tives were led into the yawning chasm, 
 where darkness lay around them, and 
 where the tramp of their horses rang 
 hollow on the ear. Their passage through 
 the rocks was short. In a moment they 
 emerged into the light and the open air. 
 They were in the rocky labrynth of Carls- 
 berg. It was a wild and wondrous scene. 
 The danger and fearful uncertainty of 
 their position, lent a chilling horror to the 
 mysterious fastness in which crime had 
 sought a refuge. Deep fissures and cre- 
 vices extended far on every side between 
 
 VOL. II.
 
 290 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 the rocks which rose in every form 
 pyramids, obelisks, towers, and even spires 
 of mimic tracery, assuming the semblance 
 of church and abbey, now clothed with 
 pale dank stonecrop or dark ivy, now bare 
 and bleached, as if those cliffs were the 
 timeworn wrecks of an elder world. All 
 was so still, that the footsteps of the band 
 awoke the muttering echoes of the city of 
 stone. They passed through the winding 
 streets of this strange monument of 
 nature's stupendous caprice, until they 
 reached a comparatively open space. Be- 
 fore them rose a vast mass of stone, which 
 assumed the form of a fortress ; a solitary 
 pine on the summit of the keep rose like 
 a banner, showing a sombre cone in sharp 
 relief against the sky. 
 
 At the base of the rock-fortress a stream 
 issued from a crevice, and formed a still 
 sleeping pool of unfathomed depth. 
 
 Here they halted. At a sign from the
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 291 
 
 leader the outlaws arranged themselves in 
 a circle around the captives, who dis- 
 mounted, and stood before the masked 
 chief of that silent band. He stood in the 
 centre of the open space, beside the pool, 
 and there slowly and deliberately laid aside 
 his bunda, and removed his mask. He 
 made the sign of the cross on his breast 
 and brow, and then, while he laid his left- 
 hand on the hilt of his sword, he raised 
 the right to heaven, and said, 
 
 " My hand is pure from blood, my soul 
 is clean from mortal sin. I here accuse 
 Karl von Turkheim, as I before have ac- 
 cused him on the red earth and before the 
 Wehm, of treachery, and sacrilege, and 
 murder. For treble guilt, the treble doom 
 is pronounced : Death to the traitor ! death 
 to the sacriligeous man ! death to the mur- 
 derer! May his blood be on my head, 
 may his sins be on my soul, may my part 
 
 o2
 
 292 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 of heaven be his, if I have falsely accused 
 him !" 
 
 The outlaw stood silent. Their leader 
 gazed on the doomed soldier. Turkheim 
 was, perhaps, more pale than was his 
 wont, but his firm lip was compressed in 
 stern defiance, and his bold brow was 
 raised in calm enduring pride. 
 
 The bandit leader signed to his follow- 
 ers, and the bonds which bound Turkheim 
 were severed by a stroke of a knife. 
 
 u Count von Turkheim," said the out- 
 law, " make your peace with God !" 
 
 *' What means this mummery !" said 
 Turkheim, scornfully. 
 
 " It is not a mummery," said the bandit. 
 " I am Johann Herder, the betrothed of 
 Clara Herder. I loved her, you won her 
 from me : had you loved her, and made 
 her happy, I could have forgiven you the 
 ruin of my whole happiness. I could have
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 293 
 
 given my life for her, why should I refuse 
 her the sacrifice of my happiness ?" 
 
 He paused, and even there, in the hour 
 of his triumph, and at the moment of his 
 successful vengeance, he spoke in the 
 low humble tone of a broken-hearted 
 man. Turkheim there in his power, on 
 the brink of the grave, was his rival, 
 loved, honoured, successful with Clara. 
 Ob, how even then, that true-hearted 
 peasant envied him ! 
 
 " You cast her off," he continued, " but 
 what of that? The noble brought dis- 
 honour and sorrow to the hearth of the 
 peasant, and the poor peasant should feel 
 a proud gratitude even for the shame 
 which gave a moment's gratification to the 
 noble. Clara came home to die like a 
 poor wounded hare in her form. She for- 
 gave you her father cursed you, and I 
 arose to avenge her. Clara's avenger can- 
 not be a common murderer, I went to
 
 294 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 Gehmen I stood before the wise men 
 who there uphold the customs of our 
 fatherland. I told my tale of wrong. The 
 judges pronounced your doom life for 
 life, if Clara died, you should die." He 
 paused, and his strong frame quivered 
 with anguish, but he manned himself and 
 went on : " Clara is at peace I announced 
 her death, and sent you back the wealth 
 with which you thought to buy her life. 
 I dogged your steps, had you even then 
 shown remorse, I could perhaps have bid- 
 den you repent and live. But ere Clara's 
 grave was closed, I saw you toying gaily 
 with the gipsey girl. I saw you smile in 
 wanton mirth, while I felt that the world 
 was desolate and void of hope, or joy, for 
 me. Turkheim, you die ! " He turned 
 away for a space, and allowed the doomed 
 man to approach O'Connor; who in the 
 violence of his vain struggle to burst his 
 bonds, had forced the blood through his
 
 JULIA HOWARD. '2 ( .>~> 
 
 wrists, and now stood a helpless and shud- 
 dering witness of the tragedy. 
 
 " This is a strange world, O'Connor," 
 said Turkheim with resolute levity. "It 
 is hard to die so young, but it skills not 
 speaking of that now. Good-bye, my boy, 
 commend me to our brave lads. I know 
 there will be some true sorrow for Karl 
 Turkheim at the revel and in the field. 
 You will see Ottilie : tell her I loved her 
 to the last. You will find her letters in 
 my writing-case, here is the key, give 
 them to her, and say that I only parted 
 with them and life together. And now 
 good - bye once more ! " He wrung 
 O'Connor's fettered hand, and looked 
 steadily on the pale cheek and white lip 
 of his friend. " Courage, Allaster ; you 
 have seen men die ere now : bid me good 
 speed, and let us part ! " 
 
 " Farewell, God bless you, Karl ! " was 
 all O'Connor could say. He felt as if all
 
 296 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 were but a ghastly feverish dream, from 
 which he strove in vain to wake. His 
 lip quivered, the large drops burst from 
 his forehead and from the very palms of 
 his hands, as he stood there tamely to see 
 his friend die. Turkheim turned away 
 from O'Connor, and faced the moon ; he 
 gave one last look to earth and heaven, 
 muttered one short prayer, and then waved 
 his hand to Johann. 
 
 " Here, fellow, do your work and make 
 an end of it ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 Johann Herder slowly drew a pistol from 
 his belt, and cocking it, deliberately placed 
 the muzzle upon Turkheim's forehead. 
 " The Lord have mercy on your soul," 
 he said. Turkheim flinched not, shrank 
 not, even when the cold metal touched 
 his brow. Johann pressed the trigger 
 Karl sprang forward in the convulsion of 
 the death struggle, and fell ; he was dead 
 ere the thundering echoes of the shot 
 ceased to roar along the rocks.
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 297 
 
 Johann drew a purse from his breast, 
 and cast it at the feet of the outlaws. 
 
 " There," he said, " there is the gold 
 with which I bought your aid. Take it, 
 set that gentleman free : he knows me, but 
 he knows not you, so that you are safe 
 from any danger. I do not seek nor shun 
 the fate which the laws of the land may 
 deem me to have incurred. Mr. O'Connor, 
 you are free ! " 
 
 He severed O'Connor's bonds, and mo- 
 tioned him to depart. O'Connor knelt 
 beside Turkheim, and after gazing for a 
 moment on the placid face of the dead 
 man, he closed his eyes, and then standing 
 beside the body of his murdered brother 
 in arms, he said, " My first act will be to 
 denounce you ! Am I now free to de- 
 part?" 
 
 " You saved her from the depths of the 
 river," replied Johann ; " you are free. 
 Depart and work your will on me."
 
 298 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 " Halt," said one of the outlaws as he 
 extended his musket so as to bar O'Connor's 
 passage " Halt there ! Master Johann, 
 you have settled your affairs, and you have 
 paid us for our job, as was only reasonable, 
 for you swore us not to plunder the car- 
 riage for fear our dirty hands should soil 
 your dainty dish of revenge. I don't com- 
 plain, for you have come down handsomely; 
 so as you paid for your whim, much good 
 may it do you. But we did not swear to 
 let this young gentleman into all our 
 secrets, give him a plan of our castle, and 
 then let him off safe and sound, to report 
 us to the police, and to have us taken, like 
 a brood of young partridges in a net, the 
 next time we come here. Besides, I have 
 an old score to clear off." 
 
 As he spoke he cocked his musket, and 
 suddenly raising it, fired at O'Connor. 
 The ball passed over O'Connor's head and 
 fell back into the pool, flattened and shape-
 
 JULIA HOWAKD. 2.9. ( > 
 
 less from the rock on which it struck. 
 Johann had seized the outlaw's arm at the 
 moment when he pulled the trigger, and 
 thus saved O'Connor's life. He wrested 
 the musket from the outlaw's grasp, and 
 exclaimed sternly and resolutely, 
 
 " Eichler, I say, you shall not harm him. 
 I will have no murder done ! Your hire 
 is paid, and for this day you are my 
 servant." 
 
 The presence of danger, menacing him- 
 self, had roused O'Connor from the chill 
 waking trance of horror. He felt his 
 blood rushing once more through his veins 
 in its free warm current, and the daring 
 spirit of his race kindled in his soul. Like 
 the war-horse who hears the trumpet, he 
 started into life and power His keen 
 glance scanned the group of outlaws. They 
 stood irresolute, and seemed to take little 
 interest in the argument between Johann 
 and Eichler. He was certain of finding
 
 300 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 some partisans among them, whom the 
 promise of gold might induce to defend 
 him. 
 
 " I am willing to pay for my liberty," he 
 said ; " name your price." 
 
 " Swear not to speak of what you have 
 seen to-night," said one of the outlaws. 
 
 " I will not swear," said O'Connor ; " I 
 will buy my life with gold, but not with 
 my honour." In the energy of his indig- 
 nation he extended his hand as he spoke. 
 One of the outlaws suddenly seized that 
 hand, looked eagerly at the ring which it 
 bore on the little finger, and cried, 
 
 " Where did you get this ring, mein 
 herr ? speak at once speak as you value 
 your life and liberty." 
 
 " A Prussian deserter, to whom I showed 
 some kindness, gave it me." 
 
 " Where is Count Steinberg now ?" ex- 
 claimed the outlaw. 
 
 "He is dead; he shot himself after a
 
 JULIA HOWARD. 301 
 
 skirmish in which we defeated the Prus- 
 sians." 
 
 " Comrades," said the outlaw, " I claim 
 this man's liberty. I am the foster-brother 
 of Count Henry. I was flogged for having 
 allowed him to leave his tent to visit Count 
 I von before his execution. When he saw 
 my punishment he deserted. He is dead, 
 and no mortal being shall hurt a hair of 
 the head of this man who wears the signet 
 ring he gave. Comrades, speak, is this 
 man free?" 
 
 " Let him go in safety," replied the out- 
 laws with one voice. O'Connor flung hi 
 purse among the bandits, and giving one 
 last look at the stiffening form of Turk- 
 heim, turned to depart. 
 
 "Mem herr," said Johann, "I ask no 
 mercy at your hands, but think of me as 
 mercifully as you can. Hand me over to 
 the gibbet if you will, but say to your own 
 heart, that I loved and suffered much
 
 302 JULIA HOWARD. 
 
 farewell." .He turned, and vanished 
 among the rocks. Eichler, too, had disap- 
 peared. O'Connor remembered that he 
 was unarmed. He took the pistols and 
 sabre of the Prussian deserter, giving his 
 watchchain in exchange for them. As he 
 walked across the plain he Isaw a man 
 following him. He cared little for that as 
 he was armed. Eichler, for he it was, pro- 
 bably perceived that it was so, . for he 
 reached u he caleche without interruption 
 or annoyance. 
 
 LONDON 1 
 
 PRINTED BY G. 3. PALMER, SAVOY STREET. &TRAND.
 
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