BenKEier 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY Of 
 CALkfO&H\A 
 
iiiiitni 
 
LONDON : 
 LONGMAN, GKLLN, LONGMAN, & KOBLKTS. 
 
WILD DAYRELL; 
 
 BIOGRAPHY OF A GENTLEMAN EXILE, 
 
 JOHN KEMP, 
 
 Shooting and Fishing ix Lower Brittany," "Sketches from 
 THE South oe France," &c. 
 
 '•:' ^ SEOonsrr) eiditioist. 
 
 LONDON: 
 LONGMAN, GREEN, LONGMAN, AND ROBERTS. 
 
 1862. 
 
London : 
 
 Printed by Truscott, Son, & SiramonS; 
 
 Suflfolk Lane, City. 
 
K3I5- 
 PEEFACE. ^^^^ 
 
 What has become of them ? What has become 
 of some of our contemporaries, who, as boys, 
 started in the great race of Life on equal terms 
 with ourselves, but in whose career at the 
 University, London, and elsewhere, we saw only 
 " the beginning of the end ?" They have failed, 
 been removed from the scene, and are now for- 
 gotten, save when old comrades call over the roll 
 of men of their day. This true Biography of 
 Wild Dayrell, the author hopes, may supply a 
 missing link in the record of our lives, and clear 
 up any mystery enveloping the fortunes of — to 
 Anglicise a French phrase — the Forgottens. 
 
 London, 
 Jul^, 1861. 
 
 702 
 
WILD DAYEELL 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " Is the favourite to win 1" asked a young lieutenant 
 in one of her Majesty^s crack regiments, of Dayrell, 
 who sat opposite him eating his breakfast. " Did 
 you pick up any news when you went to see 
 the thoroughbreds air themselves on Doncaster 
 moor?^' 
 
 " You know quite as much as I do/' answered the 
 latter : " that is, what a good horse Sellington is ; 
 how he won the Derby easily, and at York last 
 month beat most of the horses that have to meet him 
 in the race to-morrow. His only dark rivals are 
 Boanerges and Nutmeg, and they, I should think, 
 cannot be of much account, to judge from the dis- 
 graceful way their stable companions were beaten 
 when they tried to get the favourite's measure. I 
 consider it a moral certainty, and, turning a deaf ear 
 
 4- 
 
2 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 to the shaves of the race-course, shall stand or fall 
 by the fortunes of Sellington/^ 
 
 '^ I shall follow your example/' said the young 
 lieutenant, ^^ and, if the favourite wins, I have yet 
 six months^ leave, and, after the settling, shall carry 
 on the war for that time ; if, on the contrary, he is 
 beaten, I shall join my regiment in India. To tell 
 the truth, I am tired of the depot at Maidstone, and 
 would just as soon be roughing it on the banks of 
 the Sutlej as stay here without plenty of money to 
 enjoy my leave and hunting in Northamptonshire/^ 
 
 Thus, over their coffee and muffins, chatted two 
 average specimens of our rising generation in a small 
 lodging at Doncaster, on the morning preceding that 
 which was to witness the great race of the North. 
 
 Our hero, Dayrell, was now about twenty-five 
 years of age, of good family, prepossessing manners, 
 and, as the ladies would say, decidedly good-looking. 
 At an early age he had been sent to a public school, 
 where he had shone as a leader at foot-ball, cricket, 
 and other games — a fact that tended to exalt him 
 much in the good opinion of the boys, but consider- 
 ably disgusted the head-master, who only tolerated, but 
 by no means loved, such unacademical amusements. 
 His talents were above the average — another fact 
 that rendered other backslidings doubly disturbing to 
 his worthy pedagogue ; and when he did occasionally 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 3 
 
 put his shoulder to the wheel of learning, and send 
 up a copy of verses or Latin prose worthy even of 
 the notice of the Hertford examiners, his plodding 
 companions had good reason for thinking that he 
 would have been a dangerous rival in the race for 
 honours. His tutor thus graphically summed up his 
 character: "He was a good fellow, with plenty of 
 talent, but ruined by his love of field sports." So 
 on making his bow to the public school, his prizes 
 were not the gift of his master, but of his com- 
 panionsj who testified by a shower of leaving books 
 how deeply they regretted the loss of their cricket 
 captain. 
 
 Alma Mater, to whose nursing he was soon after- 
 wards confided, was (and, perhaps, is still) a dan- 
 gerous mother for such a character as Dayrell. 
 Untrammelled by the wholesome fear of a father, 
 who died when Dayrell was yet a boy, and supplied 
 with more money than most other men of his college, 
 he did not find his own level, but took a position 
 above his less fortunate compeers. Hence he was 
 quite an oracle to the men of his year, and an object 
 of "attention" to those townsmen of the universit}', 
 who quietly prey upon open-handed youth at the 
 same time that they pander to their tastes. No 
 wonder that Dayrell soon saw more of the interior 
 economy of the old Berkshire kennels than the 
 b2 
 
4 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 inside of the musty lecture-room, and thought the 
 chances of the favourite for the ensuing Derby more 
 worthy his attention than an Aristotleian theory or a 
 problem in Euclid. In fact, his idle habits grew upon 
 him to such an extent, that it is difficult to imagine 
 how he scrambled through his Little-go. Some 
 people did affirm, that when he wanted the figure 
 for an Euclidian definition, so kindly set before him 
 by the examiners, he solved the difficulty by tossing : 
 —heads, a parallelogram — tails, a triangle ; and that, 
 acting on the result obtained by that original pro- 
 cess, he selected the right framework for his pro- 
 position. That he escaped rustication was partly 
 owing to his sedulous attendance at chapel — the 
 performance of which duty covers a multitude of 
 sins in the opinion of the authorities — and partly 
 to vague hopes of the Master, that his clever scape- 
 grace might yet do something for the honour of 
 his college. Dayrell did not fulfil any such anti- 
 cipations. He certainly never was plucked, though 
 how he obtained his degree was a greater mystery 
 than his passage of the pons asinorum. The " three- 
 fold" torture now in vogue was, luckily for Dayrell, 
 not invented in his day. 
 
 At the age of twenty- one our hero left the Uni- 
 versity, and took up his quarters in London, where 
 a larger field was open to his talent for readily 
 
WILD DATRELL. 5 
 
 calculating the odds, and obtaining a practical 
 acquaintance with the doctrine of chances — a more 
 necessary accomplishment on the Turf than any 
 knowledge of the condition or capabilities of the 
 horses themselves. Here also he earned his soubri- 
 quet of "Wild," not because he was guilty of 
 excesses, such as the epithet might seem to imply ; 
 on the contrary, he was rather a quiet man, and 
 bet more for the eclat of the thing than from love 
 of money ; but simply from the lucky hit he made 
 when the animal of that name won the principal 
 race of the year. His success for three seasons was 
 unparalleled. "Lucky Dayrell" was in everybody's 
 mouth as the rising guide to fortune. Whatever 
 " Lucky Dayrell " did, should, they said, be implicitly 
 followed. If the gentlemen lost by the defeat of the 
 favourite, it was soon bruited about that Dayrell 
 had laid against him, and had reserved the actual 
 winner to carry him through triumphant. If 
 backers of horses, suspicion's and afraid of the 
 intentions of an owner, held aloof from investing 
 on some good public performer, Dayrell appeared 
 in the market, took the odds heavily from some 
 of the ring, and, when the event was over, simply 
 remarked to his chagrined friends, " I told you how 
 it would be." Altogether our hero, in spite of what 
 sagacious old stagers said, was considered to be the 
 b3 
 
6 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 man who had at last cut the Gordian knot^ and dis- 
 covered the short and certain road to wealth. 
 
 The tide^ however, turned at last ; Fortune, weary 
 of her favourite, had been very unkind during the 
 last six months. The results of every great race 
 had been disastrous, and even in those of smaller 
 consequence, where his luck had hitherto been 
 proverbial, his calculations were completely upset. 
 The present St. Leger was to make or mar him. 
 In the former case he had determined to quit the 
 Turf, and take to some less perilous pursuit; for 
 the latter emergency he was not equally prepared, 
 although he clung to the delusive hope that he could 
 still enter upon some plodding path of life, which 
 might offer him a competence, if not steadily lead 
 him on to fortune. Many like him have been led 
 away by the same will-o'-the-wisp, in fancying that, 
 without years of probation and a formed character, 
 they could be received into those professions for 
 which other men qualify by a long course of pre- 
 paration and study. 
 
 Dayrell, although he attended the first day's 
 racing at Doncaster, took but little interest in the 
 proceedings, albeit a goodly show of jockeys an- 
 swered to the starter's summons, and the decisions 
 of the judge were received with the customary 
 enthusiasm by winners, and ill-concealed regret by 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 7 
 
 the losers. He regarded it, as we should the tuning 
 of the instruments that preface the grand efforts of 
 the band at an opera — a kind of prelude and foil to 
 the all-absorbing event of the following day. When 
 he felt the morrow would see him " aut Ccesar aut 
 nullus,'' he had no inclination for winning or losing 
 a few pounds, which could make but little diiference 
 in the balance that was to be in his favour or the 
 reverse. So he spent his time in loitering near 
 the ring, where stentorian voices proclaimed their 
 willingness to lay against anything, from the 
 favourite to the most hopeless outsider, and per- 
 suaded himself, from many investments made, that 
 his horse still basked in the sunshine of popular 
 favour. 
 
 That night there was a mighty gathering in ^' the 
 rooms,^* devoted for the nonce to speculators in 
 racing, and devotees of Mammon in yet more 
 exciting games of chance. Thither had flocked the 
 habitues of the Turf, the gentlemen just returned 
 from the moors, the representatives of the army, 
 and all the mixed assemblage that nobody knows 
 anything about, but who are sure to be present on 
 the evening before the St. Leger. There were the 
 betting men in full evening costume, as though they 
 had just left the most recherche dinners instead of 
 their quiet " chop or steak feed " at the Salutation, 
 
 B 4s 
 
8 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 gliding about the room, book in hand, and plying 
 their trade with untiring energy. Knots of men 
 would suddenly congregate round some well-known 
 speculator, listen eagerly to his offers^ as if they 
 could thus fathom his secrets, and would as quickly 
 disperse to form again elsewhere. At intervals 
 might be seen a well-known character, dressed like 
 the most dapper of linen-draper's assistants, who 
 moved from one circle to another, and invested 
 largely against Sellington, wherever a chance backer 
 could be found. Dayrell recognised him as the 
 agent of a magnate of the ring, and knew the 
 commission looked ominous, when he offered 6,000 
 to 4,000 against the favourite, and met with no 
 response. 
 
 " Quem Deus vult perdere, prius dementat." 
 
 No other explanation could be given for Dayrell 
 being so obstinate as not to take a hint like this. 
 Even Andrews, whose business it is to take subscrip- 
 tions, and see that improper persons do not enter the 
 subscription-room, said to him, winking at the same 
 time, " A deaf man could understand that. Poor 
 Sellington, he is dead to-night; I suppose we shall 
 have his funeral to-morrow." 
 
 Like a troubled spirit, Dayrell left the large room, 
 and went to one of the smaller, where were roulette 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 9 
 
 tables covered with sovereigns, which moustachioed 
 gentlemen picked up and relinquished with a non- 
 chalance which savoured strongly of co-operation 
 with the proprietor. But this game was unpopular, 
 so he went up-stairs to the two tables, where the oft- 
 repeated "Make your sets/' and "The main will 
 be," had collected a double row of players. But he 
 did not join them. His mind was pre-occupied. He 
 was not even enticed by the plethoric, gouty-toed 
 Norris, who, with his hands in his pockets, and 
 shaking his head, repeated his old, old story : " The 
 bank, sir, has been nearly ruined to-night by the 
 good luck of the gentlemen ; only five minutes ago 
 Mr. Digwell threw eleven mains." 
 
 Restless and disgusted with the scene, Dayrell left 
 the rooms and passed through the mob that thronged 
 the entrance, and the knots of idlers who, regardless 
 of the drizzling rain, conversed on the pavement, or 
 the middle of the street, or wherever they could find 
 standing-room, in their anxiety to pick up informa- 
 tion that might be turned into gold on the morrow. 
 He returned to his room, whither the hum of voices 
 from the centre of operations still followed him, and 
 whose interior was rendered more gloomy by the 
 sickly light that came from the gas-lights in the 
 street below. Let us pass over the wearisome night. 
 We have none of us reason to envy the state of the 
 
10 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 speculator's mind when awake, or the tossings and 
 unquiet rest, when fitful slumbers at length fall to 
 his share. 
 
 At the first break of day, Dayrell was aroused by 
 the roll of vehicles and the clamp of feet, betokening 
 the arrival of fresh patrons of the great northern 
 carnival. It was a foggy morning, and from his 
 window he contemplated the living stream that passed 
 below. Here a party of stout graziers, with greasy 
 Macintosh coats on their arms, and their pockets 
 bulging with substantial luncheons, making the best 
 of their way to their customary halting-places. On 
 their heels followed jolly-looking farmers, breeders 
 of short horns, tradesmen, and Yorkshiremen of 
 every grade ; some speculating, in their broad dialect, 
 on the result of the race, others laughing and joking, 
 as true holiday-makers should. In the square oppo- 
 site Dayrell saw the stall of the old game-vendor, 
 sole occupant of that area, who, sticking his hands 
 cabman-fashion against his sides to promote circula- 
 tion of the blood, looked out for customers among 
 the better-dressed, or cracked jokes with his poorer 
 brethren. Looming through the mist, and suspended 
 by the lower mandible, hung the spectral corpses of 
 four grouse, changed, indeed, in appearance since 
 they saluted the rising sun with the proud gestures 
 and shrill crow of their species. Tell us, Mr. Game- 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 11 
 
 dealer, what superstition inclines you to the mystic 
 number four? Why have we never seen more or 
 less in your stall on any of our visits to Doncaster ? 
 Tell us, are they dummies, or are they the ghosts of 
 their unfortunate predecessors ? 
 
 Dayrell hastily dressed himself, and, as his custom 
 was, started for the course on foot to see the sheeted 
 strings take their morning canters. Bent on the 
 same errand, a sprinkling of gentlemen, snugly 
 wrapped in coats and comforters, had already made 
 their appearance ; as well as a legion of touts, who 
 occasionally made frantic rushes towards the rails 
 when the horses cantered by, in the hope of gathering 
 information for their credulous employers. Gentle- 
 men sportsmen, as the card-sellers call you, you are 
 not likely to realize much benefit from your early 
 attendance. Any conclusions that you amateurs 
 may form from what you see of the horses at exercise 
 will probably result in delusion and loss. Few of 
 you know one horse from another, swathed as they 
 are from head to knee in their thick clothing. Like 
 an opera-girl reft of her spangles and paint, and 
 removed from the foot-lights, the animal, that you 
 attempt to recognise this morning, is very different to 
 the gleaming satin-coated thorough-bred that you 
 remember to have seen stretched in a preliminary 
 canter on some other race-course. Granted that you 
 
12 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 know the horses apart, and that you are good judges 
 of action and style of " going ;." whatever new ideas 
 might be grafted on your germinating mind will bear 
 no fruit ; for, alas, your opinions have been already 
 formed, and certain figures are even now entered in 
 your " little book," which will inevitably warp your 
 better judgment. If you only congregate here this 
 morning pour passer le temps, well and good : the 
 fresh air of Doncaster Moor is as healthful and in- 
 vigorating as that of the mountains you have so 
 lately quitted. 
 
 " Good morning. Captain." Each new comer was 
 a captain with the individual who now addressed 
 Dayrell, as he leaned on the rails of the course. The 
 intruder on his meditations was one of those Bedouins 
 of the Turf, who are always on the watch to earn 
 half-a-crown, honestly if possible, but at all events to 
 make it somehow. 
 
 " Si possint recte, si non " 
 
 He was known to the world by the soubriquet of 
 ^^ Scrapings," and report said that he " lived by his 
 wits ; " but as he had by no means a superabundance 
 of that commodity, it would have been nearer the 
 truth to say that he throve on his consummate im- 
 pudence. His character may be easily guessed, from 
 the answer of a wag who, when asked where Scrap- 
 
WILD DAYRELL. ^ 13 
 
 ings was likely to be found, replied, " If he is not 
 borrowing a stilling, picking a pocket, or fighting, 
 you may be certain to find him in the nearest horse- 
 pond, being ducked for some piece of rascality." 
 Scrapings, however, had lately had a turn of luck; 
 and, presuming on a new coat, and the possession of 
 a little ready money, had approached Dayrell, and 
 accosted him. 
 
 " Good morning. Captain," said he ; "I beg pardon, 
 but they do say that you are backing the favourite for 
 this race. Now, I tell you he canH win — no how." 
 
 " Why, what on earth," exclaimed Dayrell, " can 
 you know about it, you who never told me anything 
 by which I could make a sixpence ? " 
 
 ''Don't be too hard upon us. Captain; you've 
 given me many half-crowns when I've been out at 
 elbows, and 1^11 just tell you how it is: I've been 
 talking to the lad who exercises Sellington every day, 
 and has ridden him this last eighteen months, and he 
 says as how he does not go free-like in his gallops, and 
 how he seems quite a difi'erent horse to what he was 
 before he won the Derby. Just take my advice this 
 once ; it is all true that I am telling you. Thank'ee, 
 Captain," continued Scrapings, pocketing the dou- 
 ceur tendered him by Dayrell ; and holding up his 
 finger, as if in warning, " Don^t forget ; the favourite 
 will not win." 
 
14 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 The sun had cleared away the morning mist, and 
 now shone brightly on the thousands thronging every 
 part of the Doncaster race-course. Ding-dong, ding- 
 dong, from the top of the stand rang the great bell, 
 that never seemed to cease uttering its warning notes, 
 save when the horses were actually engaged in the 
 strife for victory. Ding-dong, ding-dong ; clear and 
 loud it pealed above the hubbub of the betting-ring, 
 the jargon of would-be judges of horse-flesh, the per- 
 suasive vociferation of those who proflPered the odds, 
 as well as of the thousands of less agitated spectators 
 congregated in the wide area near the Grand Stand. 
 Ding-dong, ding-dong ; it was heard above the sten- 
 torian voices and trumpets of booth-proprietors, the 
 shouts of vendors of correct cards, the drums of the 
 juggler- troops, the bones and banjoes of soi-disant 
 Ethiopian melodists, and all the motley herd that 
 strove so incessantly to relieve the visitors of their 
 superfluous cash. Ding-dong, ding-dong ; it drowned 
 the hum of voices proceeding from the crowds of 
 admirers that followed the sheeted quadrupeds, as 
 they were led up the course to be saddled for the 
 part they were to play in the coming struggle. 
 
 The various scenes in the Turf drama that precede 
 every great race were duly enacted. Formed under 
 their inspector's eye, a solid phalanx of policemen 
 advanced, to clear gently, but efi'ectively, the long 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 15 
 
 green lane of the gaping multitude. The elastic 
 thoroughbreds were divested of their clothing; the 
 jockey boys, those precocious nondescripts, were 
 hoisted into their tiny saddles. In twos and threes 
 they cantered up the course, ere long returning 
 past the stand at a pace equalling in severity that 
 for the actual race itself. Individuals, who had been 
 separated from their friends, made a rush for the 
 opposite side, pursued by an indignant policeman, 
 fiercely wielding his truncheon, but whose efforts to 
 catch the offender were generally ineffectual, and 
 provoked a burst of laughter from the good-humoured 
 lookers-on. That time-honoured institution, the 
 inevitable dog, was turned out, and, hooted by a 
 thousand voices, rushed hither and thither in frantic 
 haste, to disappear no one knew where, though 
 " Surtees" has attempted to follow his vagaries. 
 The last loiterer — I think the great Mr. Toole, of 
 trowser-making celebrity — has been let into the 
 Stand; the gates are closed, the course is cleared, 
 and even the monotonous bell has stilled its warn- 
 ing notes. 
 
 All the horses have taken their preliminary canters, 
 the last to pass the Stand being the favourite; he 
 was, of course, the cynosure of a thousand eyes. 
 Good judges saw with suspicion symptoms of lather- 
 ing and hurried training; more than one sage old 
 
16 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 lover of horse-flesh shook his head ominously, and 
 pronounced an adverse verdict. The occupants of 
 the ring became quiet, and adjusted their glasses, or 
 listened to the prattle of adventurous souls, who, by 
 their comrades^ help, had mounted the rails of the 
 betting circle, and thus commanded a more extensive 
 view. Dayrell nervously watched the line formed by 
 the sixteen competitors, as they were led up to the 
 post by the skilful, but nonchalant, Hibburd, and 
 his heart beat high, when the flag dropped, and a 
 somewhat straggling start was effected. No reason, 
 however, had he for complaint. Sellington was one 
 of the lucky horses, and in the front rank — a position 
 that his jockey maintained, but did not injure by 
 attempting to force the pace. Hound the hill they 
 sailed, and, as the pace improved, the tail of beaten 
 horses became longer, and the shouts of the backers 
 of the different favourites were redoubled. Down 
 the incline they rattled, a cloud of dust forming as 
 background for the display of the advancing wall of 
 parti-coloured jackets. The shouts soon merged into 
 a roar, till, at the distance post, Sellington was 
 evidently in trouble; his jockey^s ari^s and legs 
 were at work : and " The favourite's beat," was re- 
 echoed by a hundred throats. Past the Stand they 
 rushed like a whirlwind; the three leading horses 
 cleared the winning post, and the hubbub ceased; 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 17 
 
 for no one, but the judge, could tell who had won. 
 This breathless suspense, however, was but for a 
 second; the number of the winner upon the tele- 
 graph was the signal for half a dozen hats to fly into 
 the air, and for a general rush to the exit from the 
 stand, when all was over, save the exuberant joy of 
 the Yorkshire lads, who thronging round their pet, 
 as he returned to scale, shouted at the top of their 
 voices, " Now, boys, one cheer more. Malton, 
 Malton, for ever." 
 
 With an almost insupportable load at his heart, 
 Dayrell threaded his way through the ground sacred 
 to stick-throwers, proprietors of gorgeous aunt Sallys, 
 exhibitors of the noble game of prick the garter, and, 
 heedless of all invitations to try his luck, made his 
 way to a carriage drawn up on the opposite side of 
 the course. Here he found his friends, elated, or 
 depressed, as they^happened to have won or lost, and 
 listened apathetically to the stories, already passed 
 from one to another, accounting for the defeat of the 
 favourite, many of them as incredible as they were 
 false. That cunning reader of physiognomies, the 
 tall, sun-burnt, gipsey Ellen, guessed what had 
 happened from simply seeing Dayrell's dejected air, 
 and wisely forbore to ask for her accustomed present. 
 That quiet, respectably-dressed individual yonder, 
 whom the London club waiters designated " Mr. 
 
18 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 Dayrell's agent" (meaning touter), prudently stood 
 aloof and waited for a more convenient moment to 
 offer consolation and to borrow a fiver. Even that 
 short man with the red face and black whiskers, Mr. 
 Wiley's assistant, took the hint, and did not present 
 his card of invitation for an afternoon visit to what 
 he called " his place for a little amusement." 
 
 Dayrell must indeed have been hopelessly out of 
 sorts, otherwise he would have been amused with the 
 new manoeuvre for raising money that Scrapings 
 was practising upon the occupant of a neighbouring 
 carriage. This worthy, in making his rounds, had 
 spied a pale-faced, mild-looking young man of five 
 and twenty, who held the responsible situation of 
 trusty clerk to the famous house of Silvercorn and 
 Co. He sat on the box of the family four-wheel, and 
 detailed to his mother and sisters some particulars 
 respecting the horses and their riders. The scoundrel 
 marked him as a victim, and sidehng up with a wink 
 and a leer, exclaimed, 
 
 "Ah, Captain, here we are again. You don't 
 forget your old pal, I see. You'll give him some- 
 thing for the sake of old times." 
 
 " Go away, man," said Paleface ; " I don't know 
 you." 
 
 " How can you say that, Captain ? " said Scrapings, 
 in a louder key; "have you forgotten our good 
 
WILD DAYUELL. 19 
 
 luck at Hampton and Chesterfield, and how you 
 gave me a sovereign and said, * Scrapings, if ever 
 you want a trifle, come to me?^ " 
 
 "Go away, man," reiterated Paleface, his com- 
 plexion changing rapidly from white to red, for he 
 had been to Hampton races unknown to his family, 
 who thought at the time that he was paying a visit 
 to an old schoolfellow in the country. 
 
 " What ! have forgotten, Captain," continued 
 Scrapings, "the fifty half-crowns we won at 
 roulette, and how, after the races, you and 1, 
 and the la — " 
 
 Down dropped poor Paleface from his perch, and 
 rushed across the course to speak to a friend (as he 
 said afterwards), in a state of hopeless horror at the 
 advent of so terrible a dream; and before he hid 
 his head again in the family carriage, he had made 
 a three-mile circuit round the course. 
 
 In the good old days when noblemen and gentle- 
 men attended races in greater numbers than at 
 present, the wholesome practice of settling debts of 
 honour on the morning after they were incurred 
 was rigidly adhered to. Then, if Major McSwindle 
 or Captain O'Tryon did not put in an appearance 
 and liquidate their heavy liabilities, the usual 
 penalties were inflicted on them as defaulters, 
 viz. — they were prevented from entering the Grand 
 c2 
 
20 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 Stand, and perhaps compelled to leave the town 
 by the importunate demands of their creditors. 
 Hence the beautiful allegory, oft quoted by the 
 veterans of the ring, that describes an insolvent 
 gentleman, the morning after the race, as having 
 been seen crossing London Bridge — his only luggage 
 a carpet-bag, his face set towards the Continent. 
 Mais nous avons change tout cela, much to the 
 disgust of the legitimate speculator. By tacit 
 agreement the settling hour is postponed, and bills 
 do not fall due till the next gathering at Tatter sails. 
 A few sanguine individuals, however, still cling to 
 the old system, attend early in the subscription- 
 room, produce their books, and by make-believe 
 settling try to induce a tyro at least to part with 
 his cash; but their efforts are unavailing. They 
 may look hungry, and expect, but their debtors 
 know better than to come and be bled. The 
 pleasure and grief connected with paying and 
 receiving must stand adjourned till the following 
 Monday. Of this new system unprincipled adven- 
 turers, who have lost quite as much as they can 
 pay, if not more, take unfair advantage; they know 
 thej^ cannot be in a worse position than they are 
 at present, and so make fresh bets, with a view of 
 recovering the whole of their previous losses. 
 
 But Dayrell, now that the great event had come 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 21 
 
 off against him, laid down his book and pencil, and 
 thought only how best he might satisfy his nume- 
 rous creditors. This was not an easy matter, seeing 
 that a ring-man loves deeds better than words. He 
 owed some small sums. Such creditors are inclined 
 to be troublesome and clamorous, so they were 
 paid at once. Luckily he found those to whom he 
 owed most in a good humour, being large winners 
 on the race. They did not object to a piece of 
 stamped paper, a promise to pay at some not-far- 
 removed future. As to interest — "A trifle like 
 that, Mr. Dayrell would not refuse," they said ; 
 and the trifle, which turned out to be sixty-five 
 per cent., was accordingly added to the amount. 
 "Well," thought Dayrell, as he handed the last 
 bill to the plethoric Norris, " there ^s the end of 
 my folly; it did not require a prophet to tell the 
 result of my betting. What is the use of blaming 
 myself for not backing Scott^s horse, or the Field, 
 when the real question I have to ask myself is. 
 Why did T bet at all? Does not common sense 
 tell me that every gentleman in the long run must 
 lose ? Has cleverness, age, or brains ever been 
 able to cope with chicanery and unfair odds ? How 
 is it possible to win without associating with people 
 below one's station, without departing from the ho- 
 nourable principles that govern gentlemen ; without 
 c3 
 
22 WILD DAYEELL. 
 
 Sacrificing health, heart, and every moment of one*s 
 time to that abomination — the betting-book ? " 
 
 "No, thank you, Pavis," said Dayrell to the 
 leviathan speculator, of the eagle eye and unim- 
 peachable integrity, who proffered a bet in tens, 
 ponies, or hundreds. 
 
 " Will you do anything ? " enquires the sprightly 
 Spleen, and stands aghast at hearing Dayrell say 
 he intends to give up betting ; then he slinks back 
 into the crowd, concluding that Mr. D. has either 
 no more money to lose, or that he will change his 
 mind next week. 
 
 "You may have the favourite against the field,^' 
 says Bunt on, the grey-headed layer of short odds, 
 the soi-disant commissioner of a marquis, and ever 
 on the heels of speculative youth. " You must win 
 of me," he adds ; " I am so unlucky this meeting. 
 I have only won 15/. on the week's balance " — an 
 announcement that did not, it is needless to add, 
 induce our hero to change his mind. 
 
 The races are over; the Doncaster of 185 — is 
 numbered with the things that have been. Noble- 
 men, gentlemen, — " patrons of the national pastime," 
 the newspapers call them, — hangers on to the Turf, 
 ringmen, and the indescribable 6t ttoXXoI of the 
 race-course, hurry to the railway station, just as 
 anxious to quit the old Yorkshire town, as they 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 23 
 
 were to come. Dayrell is amongst the number who 
 await the express-train. Ten minutes may elapse 
 before it arrives ; not an instant must be lost. 
 Although the Leger is over — nay, well nigh for- 
 gotten, is there not a great handicap at Newmarket 
 in a fortnight? On this the layers are occupied; 
 they are offering the same odds nearly as yesterday, 
 the names of other horses only being substituted. 
 They never cease, never rest. The more the races, 
 the merrier for them, for they know they must win 
 in the long run. Hence with careless indifference 
 they count up their losses, should they extend over a 
 month, or even six months. Their turn must come ; 
 it is only a question of time and industry. The 
 train arrives; they shut up their books, and take 
 their places. But speculation is only scotched, not 
 killed. A dozen boards are dragged from their 
 hiding places by the railway guards : between this 
 and London the ringman will not lift his eyes from 
 the cards dealt him at whist. 
 
 Let the curtain fall on this the first act of the 
 drama, in which the performers are not of high 
 repute, or their mode of living sans reproche. Let 
 us not, however, be too hard upon them. Let us 
 remember that what they do is for their livelihood, 
 and that of their families; that there are honest 
 men in the ranks, and that this is the only employ- 
 c 4 
 
24 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 ment now open to their talents. This necessary evil 
 or blot upon the pleasant pastime of racing must 
 and will flourish so long as " young blood " feeds the 
 arteries of the betting corporation. Until popular 
 opinion makes itself heard, and votes it infra dig, 
 for the better classes to consort and bet with men 
 whose social standing is far below their own, many, 
 a mother must tremble for the fate of her high- 
 spirited son, when he launches into London life, 
 and has to run the gauntlet of this most perilous 
 and alluring pursuit. 
 
WILD DATRELL. 35 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 From the race-course to a lawyer's office is a wide 
 jump. What can be the connection between the 
 two? you ask. Wait a moment, and you will see 
 by following Dayrell to Mr. Tales' house in the 
 
 secluded and quiet county-town of shire. 
 
 But few lawyers have allowed modern innovations 
 to usurp the place of the ink-stained desk or table, 
 the well-worn arm-chair, the uncleaned windows, 
 and other seedy appurtenances of their council- 
 chambers. Should there be a carpet, it will, in 
 the majority of cases, be thread -bare ; should maps 
 decorate the walls, they will probably be fly-blown ; 
 should you look into the paper on the walls,^the 
 original colour will hardly be settled to your satis- 
 faction. Ominous parchments and be-taped deeds, 
 methodically arranged in front of the master mind, 
 are still the stock-in-trade that frighten clients as 
 with a nightmare. Some day, I suppose, we shall 
 have fashionable lawyers, living in the midst of 
 plate-glass and gilded cornices, and receiving us in 
 
26 WILD DAYHELL. 
 
 their drawing-rooms. Liveried servants will take 
 up our cards, and, who can tell (?), perhaps a glass 
 of sherry and a pickled sandwich will close the 
 interview. Members of other professions_, mer- 
 chants, &c., emerging from their chrysalis state, 
 flit about in carriages, and attract fresh customers 
 by fine offices and grand houses at the West-end. 
 Why should the disciples of Coke and Blackstone 
 be behind their time? Why should they have 
 gloomy chambers, over the entrance of which Fancy 
 may see inscribed — 
 
 " Abandon hope, all ye who enter here ! " 
 
 Tales^ habitation was furnished after the ancient 
 model ; it had all the gloomy air of its fellows. Its 
 windows were dirty, and its pigeon-holes were full 
 of dust ; its carpet was well-worn, and its table was 
 ink-stained. There was but one redeeming point 
 in that room, one bit of Nature amid all that mass 
 of musty, dusty paper — a few flowers on the mantel- 
 piece, placed each morning, from time immemorial, 
 by the old housekeeper in a cracked jug: wall- 
 flowers in spring, China roses in summer, and two 
 heavy dahlias in autumn. They bloomed and faded 
 by old Tales' almanack. 
 
 Dayrell arrived in the " dahlia ^^ season, and for 
 him the old house was full of memories. Here was 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 27 
 
 the room where the senior partner (now deceased) 
 met him, a white-trowsered and blue-jacketed boy, 
 with the extended hand of friendship, and let fall 
 a perfect avalanche of sixpences. Munificent act ! 
 heirs to good clients do meet with such slices of good 
 luck. On the left was the hall-table, whereon he 
 had once espied a mutton chop, or rather, the bone 
 of what, at one p.m., had been an underdone speci- 
 men of its kind, picked as clean as knife and fork, 
 and teeth, could effect. Thus spake his aged friend 
 on that occasion : " Do you see it ? That is the way 
 a lawyer does business. He never leaves the bone 
 till every morsel of meat is removed ; then the value- 
 less remnant is cast out of doors." 
 
 Again, when released from the comfortless waiting- 
 room, he was ushered into "the presence;'* more old 
 familiar friends were ready to greet him — " Jorums' 
 securities,^' as the letters on an iron safe record, still 
 occupied their ancient niche. " Easy's Trust " was 
 still in that japanned box, and carried Dayrell back 
 to the days of pinafores, when he curiously peeped 
 into it, and, in place of deeds, found only a paper of 
 seed-biscuits, probably intended for Tales' luncheon. 
 His faith in outward appearances suffered much by 
 that discovery. " Estate of Crabtree," " In re Bla- 
 zer," " Spendthrift's Mortgage," would fain renew 
 their old acquaintance, and appear to be sitting round 
 
28 WILD DAYEELL. 
 
 the room, in solemn conclave, to hear what their old 
 comrade had to say. And Tales, the mainspring of 
 of the whole, greeted him in his own frigid, quiet 
 way, scarcely changed himself these five years, in 
 garments, manner, or face. Those pepper-and-salt 
 trowsers of his, dated from remote ages; those shoes 
 could have told a tale of many a weary mile "tra- 
 versed." We could make an affidavit about that 
 blue coat with brass buttons, we could select it out 
 of a thousand in Mr. Nose's emporium. In antiquity 
 it could give many years to the hat and leather 
 gloves, to which latter it would be more difficult to 
 assign an age than to any maiden aunt of our 
 acquaintance. Tales, however, was a great man of 
 business. Leave matters to him, and he wiU pull 
 you round. It is his repelling manner, his for- 
 bidding frown, and somewhat sarcastic conversation, 
 that make us lament the necessity of paying him a 
 visit. Meet him, as Dayrell did, one first of Sep- 
 tember, in the stubbles and turnips. What a trump 
 the old boy was then! How he mowed down his 
 doubles with unerring accuracy ! How, when under 
 the infiuence of the nut-brown ale, he actually 
 smoked Haycock's black pipe, totally regardless of 
 the internal inconvenience it afterwards occasioned. 
 
 " Punctual to a minute, Mr. Tales," said Dayrell, 
 glancing at his watch. " If punctuality is the soul 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 29 
 
 of business^ I ought to succeed in anything I under- 
 take.'^ 
 
 The lawyer's bow and smile gave but a qualified 
 assent to the assertion. He, however, said nothing, 
 but, somewhat impatiently, demanded the object of 
 his client's visit. 
 
 Dayrell, without any circumlocution, entered into 
 the details of the Doncaster catastrophe. He men- 
 tioned his settlement of all minor claims on his purse, 
 and gave the names of three or four persons to whom 
 he owed large sums, but who consented to wait till 
 it was quite convenient for him to pay. He re- 
 minded Tales of certain securities on which money 
 might be raised, and finished with a sketch of the 
 mode of life he intended in future to pursue, 
 
 " I have made up my mind," he said, " to abjure 
 gambling. The last two days at Doncaster I did not 
 make a bet." (Smile on Tales' face.) " And, if my 
 debts are paid, I will begin hfe again, and in quite a 
 different manner. I don't think I am deficient in 
 talent ; at all events I understand addition and sub- 
 traction, and can write as well as the clerks in your 
 office, for instance. I intend entering some line 
 of business in which, if there be no chance of re- 
 trieving my fortunes, there will be a certainty of 
 earning a fair competence.'^ 
 
 The lawyer nervously turned his pencil round and 
 
30 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 round, and listened to his client's plans, with in- 
 credulity written on his face. 
 
 " I am glad to hear/' he said, '' that you have made 
 such good resolutions, and hope you will be able to 
 keep them. But your present liabilities are the first 
 objects for consideration. I must tell you candidly, 
 that I do not think your securities sufficiently good 
 for me to advise any of my clients to advance money. 
 And, although your word may be as good as your 
 bond, I am afraid nobody will be willing to take that 
 as a basis for affording you the required relief." 
 
 A long conversation ensued. Papers were ex- 
 amined; residuary estate and reversionary interest 
 valued, and calculated, without arriving at any solu- 
 tion of the knotty point. After many pros and cons 
 it was agreed that Tales was to have time to recon- 
 sider the question, and that Dayrell was to use his 
 best endeavours to pacify his creditors, and to retire 
 to some quiet spot, where, by studious economy, he 
 might be prevented from making matters worse. 
 
 At that date, "the advantages of a cheap and com- 
 fortable home, combined with the amusement of 
 sporting over an extensive domain, and fishing in a 
 celebrated and unnetted (?) river," attracted the 
 attention of those who perused the advertisements in 
 the weekly newspapers. " The comfortable home '' 
 was at Aberdovey, in North Wales. The Torpid 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 31 
 
 Arms was the actual residence, whose landlord prof- 
 fered his generous hospitality to the public at the 
 moderate rate of thirty shillings a- week. There was 
 also " a carefully selected assortment of foreign wines, 
 spirits, and cigars," awaiting the stranger who might 
 drift so far west. " The very thing," thought Day- 
 rell. ^^ Twice thirty make sixty, and twice sixty are 
 one hundred and twenty, and one hundred and twenty 
 shillings make 61. a month ; economy and shooting, 
 fishing and saving money ; 1 will start at once/' 
 
 Theory, however, is one thing, and practice an- 
 other. There certainly was an extensive domain to 
 shoot over in the vicinity of the inn, but there was 
 no game. The landlord thought it had been a bad 
 breeding season for the " birds." There was a river 
 near the house, and another three miles distant, but 
 very few fish. In fact, although a woodcock, a few 
 snipe, or a wild duck, might occasionally be bagged, 
 the sporting was a dead letter. Dayrell had a com- 
 panion in the sanded coffee-room — a fellow- sufferer, 
 from impecuniosity — one Crippleby,anold gentleman, 
 whose declining years were dedicated to the extinc- 
 tion of fowl and fish. Not that he did much either in 
 that way ; for his movements were slow, and his aim 
 uncertain. Dayrell once watched him kicking tufts 
 of grass to find a jack snipe that had alighted in the 
 next field. He found it, and great sport he had with 
 
32 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 that bird. He bagged it at two p.m._, after an exciting 
 chase of three hours and fourteen minutes. Crippleby 
 was a man of few words, and slept in his chair after 
 dinner, with his gin and water untouched before 
 him, and a long churchwarden pipe, at one moment 
 slipping from between his lips, and recovered at the 
 critical moment by a convulsive start of the sleeper. 
 Beau camerade this for Dayrell, accustomed as he 
 was to the fun of the " Rag" and the jokes of the 
 " Garrick." 
 
 Weeks rolled on in the dull routine of shooting, 
 when the weather was fine; smoking, or playing 
 bilUards with four coloured balls, when it was wet, 
 and adding but little to the register of game killed 
 and wounded. A Christmas ball was given at 
 Aberystwith. It was opened by the county members 
 "stepping" it in a quadrille. It was enlivened by 
 pretty Miss Jones and coquettish Miss Wilhams, 
 who polkaed with one-ball-a-year energy. Those 
 young ladies' papas asked DayreU to dine at " the 
 Warren" and " the Retreat/' Alas, even bright 
 eyes and fair complexions could not persuade him, 
 a second time, to face the perils of the road. Twelve 
 miles in an open chaise is no joke, especially, if the 
 quadruped objects to cross an overflowing torrent, 
 but sniffs at it as suspiciously as a Frenchman does 
 a cold bath. Spring time arrived, and Crippleby 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 33 
 
 impaling the ruby worm^ cast it hopefully into 
 whirling torrents, while Dayrell threw a fly, but 
 seldom persuaded a fish to look at his feathers. 
 
 Rain is not a thing unknown in Tafiyland. For 
 days together, at times, will the clouds roll down 
 the sides of Cader Idris and deluge the plains with 
 water. It was during one of these playful freaks of 
 "the clerk of the weather," when Crippleby had 
 gone to read, for the fiftieth time, in the pages of 
 the Sporting Mag., what " Hoarey Frost " had done 
 in the fens and Linton in German preserves, when 
 Dayrell had rejected the county newspaper, eight 
 days old, and the Welsh guide-book — sole literature 
 of the inn — as stale and unprofitable, that an idea 
 struck our hero. Yes, through the smoke, as in 
 rings and curls it ascended ceiling-wards, he saw his 
 way to a " good thing ; " and he pondered, and 
 struck out a path. In that smoky room, and when 
 looking on the rain-bespattered tiles, the future 
 suddenly partook of couleur de rose. 
 
 He remembered a certain evening spent at that 
 princely establishment, the " Bedford," at Brighton, 
 when the claret of '44, owing to quick consumption, 
 did not long sparkle on the board, and when a 
 particular friend retailed a story about his model 
 nephew. " I tell you, sir, he was a good boy, a 
 brave boy;" and the old veteran's eyes sparkled. 
 
34 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 ^' He was in difficulties, and he was in debt. He 
 went abroad ; he lived in a garret — 'pon honour, sir, 
 he denied himself all but the necessaries of life; 
 returned here, and paid his creditors with the money 
 he had saved." 
 
 ^'Why should not I do the same?" thought 
 Dayrell. " Bother this country ; if it does not rain 
 it blows a hurricane, or vice versa; abroad, I am 
 sure to have fine weather. As to living, that is even 
 cheaper than at the ^ Torpid Arms.^ Upon my word 
 I'll try.^' And he puffed more furiously at his pipe, 
 and suddenly recollected a tale that a chronicler 
 declares to be true — far be it from me to assert the 
 contrary — how a stranger, by a well-timed piece of 
 civility to an old lady in a railway carriage, was 
 taken into her confidence, and ultimately rewarded 
 by a munificent bequest. And how, again — and this 
 is a fact — an old gentleman dined one evening at 
 Meurice's, in the company of fifteen Englishmen, all 
 unknown to him ; and when the dessert was put on 
 the table, the old man got upon his legs, and made 
 the following announcement: — ^'Gentlemen, my car- 
 riage is at the door — (great silence) — I am going to 
 Marseilles to-night; whoever will accompany me 
 thither shall live, and be brought back to Paris, free 
 of expense." There was no answer, till a young 
 man at the bottom of the table, thinking he might 
 
WILD DATRELL. 35 
 
 as well go to the south as stay in the capital with 
 fifty francs in his pocket, said he was ready to go. 
 The proprietor of the carriage was taken ill at 
 Marseilles, and was nursed by his companion, to 
 the best of his ability, for three months, when he 
 
 died. The will was opened, and young B found 
 
 himself the heir to 20,000/., " as a return," the 
 document said, ^^ for kindness shown to a friendless 
 old man." 
 
 " Why shouldn't I meet with some such windfall," 
 thought Dayrell. "I'll start next month — I'll go 
 to France," when his meditations were disturbed by 
 rosy-cheeked, slipshod, slatternly Betty opening the 
 door, and announcing that the boiled leg of mutton 
 and trimmings, the oft-recurring piece de resistance 
 of the " Torpid Arms,'' was ready. 
 
 d2 
 
36 WILD DAYRELL* 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The exile has ever been a favourite subject for 
 historians and rhymers. When bidding a long fare- 
 well to the land of his birth, touching and pathetic 
 words have been put into his mouth. The pious 
 ^Eneas — hardened sinner, though he afterwards 
 proved himself to be in re Dido — wept, we are told, 
 on quitting burning Troy. Caius Marius, balancing 
 himself on a hillock, looked back on Rome, and told 
 its unconscious citizens that they would "want" 
 him some day. Even Bill Styles, the convicted 
 pilferer of watches and handkerchiefs, the ballad 
 tells us, leaned over the taffrail, and made a gushing 
 appeal to the sea-gull to lend him her wings, and 
 waft him back to the arms of his "Polly love.^^ 
 But the gentleman in Queer-street — the gentleman 
 with six children and a scolding wife, in search of 
 a foreign clime and mutton at 4d, a pound — has 
 somehow been forgotten. Surely, their feelings at 
 leaving the white cliffs of old England might be 
 made a theme by some sentimental pen. Take the 
 
WILD DAYUELL. 37 
 
 hint, authoress of the "Bleeding Heart" and the 
 '^Washerwoman's Lament ;'' yes, see what you 
 can do. 
 
 Dayrell was quite as sad and lugubrious as any 
 of those we have named when on board the 
 good ship " Seahorse," bound from Newhaven to 
 Dieppe. It was one of those days in early summer 
 when the winds, for once, are hushed, and a lands- 
 man would pooh-pooh the idea of making harbours 
 of refuge. A shadowy haze enveloped Mr. Ains- 
 wortVs much-loved Sussex downs, and the clumps 
 of trees that nestled in the valleys, each in turn 
 becoming small by degrees and beautifully less, as 
 the engines, performing I-dont-know-how-many 
 revolutions a minute, propelled the steamer on her 
 course. Pleasant day for you passengers, who fear 
 the sea, and the malady that will, in spite of liba- 
 tions of pale brandy and water, affect those who ven- 
 ture to cross it. Happy are you (apparently) unpro- 
 tected female, who, in be-nailed Balmoral boots, 
 imitate on deck the sailor's short walk, so unlike 
 your usual sweeping stride on " the slopes '^ of 
 Brighton. Lucky are you, Frenchman of the yellow 
 and bilious visage, who need not wrap your face in 
 a pocket handkerchief, groaning, " Mon Dieu, Mon 
 D'leu^^ but art able to light thy cigar — mind, on 
 this side the funnel — and wistfully watch for the 
 d3 
 
38 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 low shore of your beautiful country. Eejoice, ye 
 occupants of the tarpaulined sheds on deck, that 
 you are well enough to ask questions about the 
 sea-birds as they skim past, and the probable length 
 of the passage. Even yon poor lady's-maid smiles, 
 and has not to lay her aching head against the 
 bulwarks, and wish herself in a premature grave. 
 
 It signifies little where a man travels. If he has 
 been at a public school, or one of our universities, 
 and vegetated afterwards in the metropolis, he will 
 meet men he knows in all parts of the world. Is 
 it not a fact, that Duster, who we remember at 
 Corpus, is chopping wood at this moment at Bal- 
 larat ? Should we not find Dumpling, of Brasenose, 
 wielding the managerial baton if we went into the 
 mines at Alton ? Can we visit a German watering- 
 place without meeting Choperkin, late of the Blues, 
 or stay in Quebec an hour without rubbing shoulders 
 with the notorious Starter ? Shall " auld acquaint- 
 ance be forgot ? " We meet and ask them, " How goes 
 it,'^ and pass on, wondering. Who next, and next ? 
 
 Just so, when Dayrell had finished his observations 
 on deck, a well-known face appeared on the top of 
 the cabin stairs. "Limmerit is, by all the powers !'* 
 ejaculated Dayrell, and, in two minutes, the pair 
 were deep in Oxford reminiscences, and pacing the 
 deck in all the pride of university clanship. 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 39 
 
 Limmer was one of those men whose destiny it 
 appears to be to fall into numberless scrapes and 
 difficulties, to extricate themselves no one knows 
 how, and reappear on the scene without material 
 loss of reputation. Of his early life no one knew 
 anything; even his exact place of residence, when 
 at home, was a mystery to his friends. What 
 brought him prominently before the public occurred 
 during his second term at Oxford. At that time 
 ^^the drag" was in great favour; the highest 
 honours awaited him who came in first in those 
 cross-country events. Of the winner of the "Wet 
 Waterperry" fast men spoke with reverence; and 
 reading men have been known to sit down, at twelve 
 o'clock at night, and write an essay for the "first 
 past the post^' in "the Wheatley.'^ To make a 
 long story short, Limmer, one afternoon, in the 
 tightest of buckskins and most slovenly of boots, 
 slipped away from lecture to the meet. He 
 rode one of Symon's hacks with unquestionable 
 pluck, was the first to catch the eye of Judge 
 Aniseed, and was forthwith invested with the 
 Oxford Victoria Cross. He was not the man to 
 let such an opportunity slip without further im- 
 proving his position. He could talk fluently, if 
 not wisely, on almost any subject. From the 
 prestige he had acquired, youth listened, open- 
 D 4 
 
40 WILD DAYHELL. 
 
 moathed, to his stories,, and did not care to question 
 his veracity. What^ though his need of ready- 
 money should have become proverbial? though 
 his well-worn purse never carried anything more 
 valuable than a sixpence and a rusty key? Are 
 not poole (at which he was a proficient) and betting 
 (at which he took long credit) specially provided as 
 instruments for replenishing the purses of our modern 
 gownsmen ? True, he had a rich uncle in the far 
 West — a sort of Mrs. Harris — often mentioned, but 
 never seen. Some such person must have befriended 
 him in the hours of his direst need. 
 
 One episode in Limmer's life, as bearing upon 
 his character, we must give. It was the day on 
 which the greatest match of modern times was 
 decided, that a party of undergraduates had 
 assembled in a room to await the telegram announ- 
 cing the result. He had backed the Richmond, 
 the others the Middleham horse ; Limmer suggested 
 that they should hedge. "Put down five shillings 
 each on the table," he said, "and I will cover 
 them." When the news arrived that Middleham 
 had won, the unblushing Limmer swept all the 
 money off the table, so doing a clever stroke of 
 business. He had realized a small sum, but it was 
 ready money; he had lost a larger, but that pay- 
 ment might be postponed. 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 41 
 
 In spite of his talent, great grief awaited him 
 in London; and, of his career in Paris afterwards, 
 report did not speak favourably. Still, neither the 
 one circumstance, nor the other, prevented his 
 obtaining a commission in a colonial regiment ; 
 nor did the lessons he had received prevent him 
 initiating his fellow passengers in the mysteries of 
 roulette. His next appearance in England was as 
 a cheery subaltern in one of her Majesty's line 
 regiments. Bnt time had made no alteration in 
 his manners or habits ; if anything, it had rendered 
 him more indifferent to public opinion and preju- 
 dice. Some intricate money affairs — a regimental 
 fracas — had compelled the colonel to request him 
 to exchange ; whereupon, glad enough to receive 
 four months' leave, he left the matter in the hands 
 of his agent, and started on this speculative con- 
 tinental trip. 
 
 So here was this hero of many a drama in public 
 and private life — the reckless, unchangeable Limmer 
 of other days — in person redivivus. Dearly bought 
 experience — no, we can hardly say dearly bought, 
 for the avuncular Mrs. Harris, not he, must have 
 paid — has not checked his ever-rolling tongue; on 
 the contrary, his travels, adventures, and all the 
 events of his past life seemed to add fuel to the 
 flame. 
 
42 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 "I know Dieppe very well/^ lie said to Dayrell, 
 after listening to the plans of the latter. "I can 
 show you where you may live economically. There 
 are two hotels : one T call the aristocratic, the other 
 democratic. The former is kept by Mr. Horgan, 
 about whose birth and parentage some mystery 
 exists." Here Limmer winked his eye. " He was 
 confidential valet to some nobleman: hence the 
 reason why rank and fashion patronize his estab- 
 lishment. Unless you are anxious to pay ten francs 
 for cutlets, and five extra for looking at the waiter, 
 we won't go there. We will visit monami Blossom, 
 whose hotel is on the quay. He is a real good 
 fellow; you should only hear him talk about 
 Horgan — pauvre enfant, he calls him — and see him 
 shrug his shoulders when he compares his rival's 
 means with the trifle in the funds, the horses, and 
 the house in the country, of which he is the pro- 
 prietor. Still, both the hypocrites are most polite 
 to one another, and elevate their hats to an angle 
 of ever-so-many degrees when they chance to meet 
 in the street." 
 
 Dayrell agreed to Limmer's suggestions, and, now 
 that the chalky cliffs of Dieppe were in sight, began 
 to prepare for disembarcation, Already the scent 
 of the new-mown hay was wafted across the water. 
 Already the sea was dotted with herring boats, their 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 43 
 
 sails flapping against the mast, and their sides dis- 
 figured by a capital letter and number. Already 
 upon the faces of the passengers smote the hot air, 
 driven thither by a thunderstorm that had burst 
 over the town, and sorely perplexed an old lady on 
 board, who believed — and was strengthened in that 
 belief by Limmer's assertions — that the steel beads 
 in her bonnet would prove lightning conductors. 
 "Ease her," cries Captain Bunting from his perch. 
 " Ease her," re-echoes the cabin-boy, as the " Sea- 
 horse " enters the harbour. ' " Stop her,^' and the 
 paddle-wheels, ceasing their revolutions, drive for- 
 ward a great wave over the hitherto tranquil 
 surface. The rain, descending in torrents, deterred 
 the English and French loungers from witnessing, 
 as is their wont, the disembarcation. The com- 
 missaire of police, in his frock coat and Legion of 
 Honour decoration, was alone there to greet them, 
 and slipped, like an evil, yet affrighted spirit, down 
 the ladder. Safe from the wet himself in the cook's 
 den — by courtesy, I suppose, called a cabin — he and 
 his subordinate took notes of the passports. Un- 
 fortunate passengers, however, were grouped outside 
 — old and young, men and maidens, healthy and 
 strong, sound and unsound — in close proximity to 
 the chimney, which dropped its blacks in profusion, 
 near an engine-room that emitted rank odours of 
 
44 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 oil and grease, and " suh Jove " — in this case truly 
 pluvio — subjects for pity, almost to the stoker, the 
 only man who, for fpleasure's sake, balanced him- 
 self on a rail, and cooled his smoke-begrimed and 
 heated brow in this summer bath. 
 
 Come hither, man of the wondrous name — 
 Grandguillot, and any other subordinate of the news- 
 paper called the Constitutionnel. You may be past 
 the middle age, and, if so, probably are rheumatic. 
 Try the effects of fifteen minutes under a black 
 cloud, awaiting the official ticket-of-leave to enter 
 free and enlightened France. In your next number, 
 perhaps, you will be kind enough to give us your 
 experiences of the system. I think you may draw 
 in your horns, or, at any rate, talk less confidently 
 of that " useful, necessary (vide Constitutionnel) and 
 harmless protection for society." 
 
 " Votre passeport" demands the gensd'arme, and 
 reading Mons. Lemkre (as he pronounced it) and 
 Madame, asks, "Mais, ou est, Madame?" 
 
 ^' La voila" answered the ever-ready Limmer, 
 pointing to a nice-looking English girl, who stood 
 next him, shivering in the rain, and awaiting her 
 turn. 
 
 " Bien, Monsieur/' said the gensd'arme; and 
 Limmer in two minutes had transported the young 
 lady out of the wet into the luggage-room, to her 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 45 
 
 own momentary gratification, but to the horror of 
 her mother, who, separated from her by the crowd, 
 helplessly wrung her hands upon deck, at seeing 
 her daughter carried off in this summary manner. 
 
 Quite a master-stroke of Limmer's, just such as 
 his complete savoir-faire enabled him at any minute 
 to accomplish. Miss Emily is seated in the shed 
 allotted to short-haired douaniers, passengers, and 
 piles of luggage. Then, from not seeing her mother, 
 she remembers the isolation of her position, and, 
 like a good daughter, expresses great anxiety on 
 the subject. Limmer disappears, and presently re- 
 turns with that breathless but not over-pleased 
 matron, whose displeasure, however, is but momen- 
 tary. In the face of custom-house officers, who look 
 as if they would rummage the boxes to the last pair 
 of socks, and with servants who cannot speak a word 
 of French, the services of a polyglot like Limmer 
 cannot be cast aside. Nobly does he do his duty. 
 By means of a five-franc piece he gains first entree 
 to the sanctum. Hat in hand, and with the polite- 
 ness of a Chesterfield, he addresses the head official. 
 In fifteen minutes the family boxes are upon a truck. 
 The search has been nominal — unruffled silks and 
 crinolines are on their way to the hotel. 
 
 But who and what is the young lady ? ^Tis Emily 
 Trelawney, well-known at Cheltenham, as young 
 
46 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 ladies generally are at any place if they happen to be 
 good-looking, and have money of their own in that 
 noble institution — the Three per Cents. More than 
 one hopeful individual had lingered about a certain 
 house, with a green verandah and well-kept garden, 
 not a hundred miles from Pittville. More than one 
 had waited for a glimpse of a muslin dress, when its 
 owner should please to come out and " do" the daily 
 watering of heliotrope and nasturtiums. People did 
 say that certain Irish adventurers, with more brains 
 than money, had sworn fealty after a very short 
 acquaintance, and been summarily remanded. At 
 Tenby (where ladies are rather scarce) she was voted 
 a belle the summer after she came out. Old 
 Staggers, the horse-dealer, made quite a fortune out 
 of the officers at Pembroke Dock, so many dog-carts 
 did they require to take them to that western water- 
 ing-place. As to Ensign Noodles, age^ nineteen, he 
 refused to be comforted with bitter beer and vingt-un, 
 but was so terribly hit that he never left the espla- 
 nade for three whole days and nights, and would 
 have been there now, perhaps, had not his superior 
 officer put him under arrest. The year preceding 
 this the young lady had visited Dieppe ; and we all 
 know how Frenchmen will, even without encourage- 
 ment, prostrate themselves before gilded beauty. 
 This time it was Bellegarde, the Prefet^s deputy, who 
 
WILD DAYHELL. 47 
 
 was the devotee. That elderly gentleman — the wags 
 called him the " dissipated crow^^ — ought to have 
 known better. Thrice he seized opportunities to 
 drop upon his knees, and ask her to become Madame 
 La Comtesse. She refused the honour in the kindest 
 manner. Undeterred by failure he came again, and, 
 in impassioned language, besought her to change her 
 mind. Emily was vexed at his persistence, and re- 
 plied, rather harhsly, '^ Monsieur Le Comte, I am 
 astonished that you have asked me a fourth time to 
 do what I never will do. I really thought you were 
 old enough to know better." Bellegarde after this 
 went " on leave," and Dieppe knew him no more ; 
 and, pleased with their first visit, Emily and her 
 mother intended to spend a second season amongst 
 the Dieppois. 
 
 But we have landed on a foreign shore; we are 
 amongst th& gabled ends and the quaint old houses, 
 the gamins in blouses and the red-trousered ^' infan- 
 terie terrible,^' the be-capped and be-ribboned shop- 
 girls, and the old ladies with towers of laces upon 
 their heads. We meet Frenchmen (in the season) 
 from all parts, and stumble on our countrymen at 
 every corner — residents, visitors for the day, the 
 week, and the month ; and, before we continue our 
 tale, have a word to say about English society on the 
 Continent. 
 
48 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 Dieppe, patronised thougli it is by our country- 
 men, is not like some Englisli colonies in provincial 
 towns of France — those stagnant pools, which, no 
 clear, fresh stream of Life ever enters and purifies — 
 those strongholds whither flit the gay spirits of bye- 
 gone days to escape the inconvenience of poverty, 
 debt, or some faux pas. If, as is often too true, 
 there be a " history" attached to individuals residing 
 in the latter : if there be a stain on their escutcheon, 
 such as time can scarcely wipe out, one would think 
 that such a fact would render all more kind and 
 charitable to their neighbour's faults and short- 
 comings. On the contrary, nowhere is the war of 
 scandal and back-biting so actively carried on; 
 nowhere is the hand of each so perseveringly raised 
 against his friend, to tear away the last shred of 
 character he may still retain. Elderly ladies, will 
 nothing induce you to put on the cloak of Christian 
 charity ? Gentlemen, young and old, are your ante- 
 cedents and present mode of life respectable enough 
 to justify you in throwing the first stone ? Are you 
 to be the self-constituted judges of others? — you, 
 who, some with the bloom of youth on your brow, 
 some in the very prime of life, are dragging on an 
 aimless, hopeless existence? Was it for this that 
 the talent of masters and a university education were 
 lavished upon you? Was it for this that parents 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 49 
 
 denied themselves, and struggled to give you a fair 
 start in the world ? True, on your first arrival, you 
 bore up against the ennui and demoralization which 
 surrounded you. Still your fall, though slow, was 
 sure. By degrees you dropped into the dull routine 
 of billiards, cards, and brandy-and-water. By de- 
 grees you became more negligent in your dress, more 
 careless of shaven locks and beard, more deaf to what 
 the world might say, and more oblivious of self- 
 respect. Not many months elapsed ere you had 
 inherited the listless, jail-bird air of your fellows, 
 that now seems to sit upon you quite naturally. 
 How are ye fallen, ye " good fellows" of other days ! 
 You, who, at your midnight gatherings, are content 
 to listen to the oft-told, dreary tale of scandal, or 
 the stale anecdotes of some quondam fast man, in 
 whose muddy brain the reminiscences of demirep 
 triumphs, and perhaps racing robberies, still hold high 
 place. And yet in your social degradation, you, the 
 Toms and Harrys of your respective circles, must 
 sometimes sorrowfully remember that you are the 
 objects of yearning solicitude to a mother in old 
 England, who, unknown to her husband, deprives 
 herself, good woman, of her last five-pound-note to 
 save her son from the consequences of low extra- 
 vagance. 
 
 Nor are these transmarine republics free from 
 
 E 
 
50 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 occasional '^ emeutes,'' innocent indeed of bloodshed, 
 but safety-valves for sncb bad feelings as inveterate 
 idleness engenders. Let us state an instance : an 
 individual and bis wife^ owners of a good English 
 name_, and tolerably well off, arrive. Straightway 
 flock the little society to their gate, drop their paste- 
 boards, and strive to be on good terms with people, 
 whom, in their heart of hearts, they consider to be 
 in a better social position than themselves. Anon, 
 whispers begin to circulate, and, forgetting minor 
 squabbles, people gather together to discuss certain 
 vague reports. By degrees the spark is blown into a 
 flame, and the individual, so lately courted, meets 
 with cold looks from former friends, yet cannot help 
 smiling at the solicitude of mothers, who, like hens 
 do their chickens, gather their daughters around 
 them, when lo ! the monster appears. Explanations 
 are demanded, and society sends forth its champion 
 to a conference. There is a strong altercation, a 
 production of marriage certificates, a fierce rally, and 
 the old talk about pistols, to which every one with 
 little honour must appeal, but which, like the pica- 
 dor's red flag, are but a mockery and delusion, only 
 intended to frighten one of the belligerents. Next, 
 society, trumpet-tongued, proclaims its victory. It 
 has established the paltry fact, that the stranger's 
 wife once gained her livelihood on the stage, and 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 51 
 
 accords her cliampion a trumph, for, I suppose, the 
 same reason as the K/oman senate of old accorded it to 
 one of her consuls, ^^ Because he had not despaired of 
 the Republic/' O society of little mind and cramped 
 ideas, when will you be less exacting and unkind? 
 When will you learn to imitate the example of your 
 clergyman, who lives in peace, and shows good-will 
 to all his neighbours? When will you, like some 
 brilliant exceptions to the general rule, devote your- 
 selves to your families and household duties, and 
 forbear to meddle with other people's affairs? As 
 at present constituted, you well deserve the rebuke 
 of a celebrated authoress, administered by her 
 through the columns of the Court CirculaVj when 
 she gave her ^'reasons in writing" as excuses for 
 a lengthened residence amongst you. 
 
 There are 66,000 British residents in France, 
 [vide "Murray"). We are not sure about the 
 page, nor can we tell into how many brigades or 
 " colonies " that number is divided. This we do 
 know, that there are some amongst whom, the 
 plague-spot we have just denounced, seldom breaks 
 out, or, if it does, only in a mild and harmless form, 
 and that the Dieppe colony is one of the number. 
 Thanks, perhaps, to Mr. Maples, promoter of steam- 
 boats constructed on the wave principle, or to the 
 railway that brings such hosts of passengers, society 
 e2 
 
52 WILD DAYEELL. 
 
 changes every month — nay, every week. People 
 come, stay for a few days, and hurry on. Smith, 
 with brass inimitable, dances with Miss Fanfare five 
 times at one ball. On the morrow, he leaves with- 
 out giving Miss Fanfare' s mamma an opportunity of 
 asking his intentions, or society time to invent some 
 scandalous story. ^' Cui bono ? " we ask, who know 
 the impoverished state of Smith's exchequer, for the 
 mother to put herself forward? His flight is best 
 for both parties. Smith's departure, and that of other 
 birds of passage, is soon forgotten. When we asked 
 the Dieppe doctor about our friend Jones, a good- 
 looking, black whiskered man, who the preceding 
 summer had stayed three weeks at Dieppe, and 
 thrice partaken of the medico's hospitality, he had 
 quite forgotten him. When pressed on the subject, 
 he said, " Oh yes, Jones, Jones ; let me see, a short, 
 thick-set man, with red hair and spectacles. Oh yes, 
 I remember." On which we had nothing to do but 
 smile feebly, seeing the utter inutility of vindicating 
 friend Jones' personal appearance, and pointing out 
 his error to the doctor. 
 
 It is the same thing with the French ; they have 
 no time for gossip. They come to Dieppe for a dip 
 into the ocean and " to be seen." At the end of 
 three weeks the Mayor of Lisieux reads the riot act 
 to his wife, and denounces this expensive place. 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 53 
 
 Adolphe, of the monied firm of Argent Freres, is 
 summoned to Paris, ere lie has sunned half the 
 wide-awakes and salmon-coloured bottines,^ that he 
 bought in the Palais Eoyal to astonish the natives of 
 Dieppe. For a short three weeks does Madame 
 Tete-k~Tete occupy the post of honour at the table 
 d'hote, and talks " little nothings '' with young 
 France with the cold politeness of la grande nation. 
 " Monsieur," repeated at the beginning of all her 
 sentences, and all his beginning with " Madame," 
 does not sound well in our ears. Whatever the 
 French may do in private, their conversation in 
 public is common-place enough. And Madame the 
 Procureur ImperiaFs wife, comes from Rouen, 
 bringing with her her forty changes of raiment. 
 Never dressed two days alike, she flits about the 
 promenades, and then returns home to tell her poor 
 friends Marie, and Angelina, who could not go aux 
 eaux^ of the conquests she made, causing their poor 
 hearts to rankle with jealousy at the new bonnets 
 and dresses she has brought back with her. 
 
 * A French lady on a visit to a fashionable watering-place boasted 
 publicly that she had brought forty dresses with her, so that she 
 might never wear the same twice during her stay. Her husband, 
 also, had an equal number of suits of clothes. If he had not forty 
 hats, his collection of caps, smoking and lounging, certainly made up 
 the average. 
 
 e3 
 
54 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 A late luncheon at Blossoms', and Dayrell and 
 Limmer did the promenade between the Pier and the 
 Etablissement. On the beach to the right are the 
 rows of sentinel boxes, whence issue figures male 
 and female, and who, even in the afternoon, clad in 
 variegated oilskins, pick their way daintily over the 
 shingle, and take a dip in the sea. Some float, some 
 swim, some converse by the edge of the TroXv^Xot? 
 ^010 9aXao-(T7}^, and not a few, even in the water, puff 
 their twopenny cigars. On the right are the walls 
 of the town, and between them and the shore is a 
 strip of grass. 
 
 " Well hit, run it out ; " and a cricket-ball descends 
 with a thud in the long grass close to where Dayrell 
 is standing. A smart leg-hit can be made even at 
 Dieppe, and is watched, though scarcely understood, 
 by coquettish nursery-maids, who look on from a 
 distance, and by knots of soldiers, who we have seen 
 receive a pretty hard blow from the ball with the 
 utmost good humour. " C'est drSle," remarks an 
 exquisite from Paris, with a glass in his eye ; " mais 
 je riy comprend^ rien'^ The pair arrive at the 
 Etablissement, in front of which the band discourseth 
 sweet music, and the crowd of fashionables sit on 
 chairs hired at one sou a-piece. The dandy leans 
 back dreamily on his chair, or taps his patent leather 
 boots with his cane; the ladies ply their crochet 
 
WILD DATRELL. 55 
 
 needles ; the mercliant walks up and down and chat- 
 ters with a friend from the " woollen districts ;" and 
 the epicier, less proud than his neighbours, lifts his 
 flounced and furbelowed children on to his knee, and 
 gives them a halfpenny each to invest in Cerise's 
 choleratic pears. Should any of the company be dull 
 for a moment, they play at toupie Hollandaise, and 
 spin the top, whence the luckiest, after expending a 
 franc, will triumphantly return with a prize of the 
 the exact value of five centimes ! 
 
 Here, too, is the billiard room, which they enter, 
 and watch the match between Carambole, champion 
 player of the Palais Royal, and an English captain, 
 whose strokes have often astonished the frequenters of 
 the " Cocoa Tree" and the " Rag/^ The game is this : 
 Monsieur Carambole has to make sixteen cannons at 
 one " break." Failing in this, he has to begin again. 
 His adversary, on the contrary, scores every cannon 
 he may make. This is the critical moment. The 
 Frenchman has scored thirteen : the balls are wide 
 apart, and it looks impossible to do anything more. 
 Still there is an air of confidence about Carambole^s 
 cleanly-shaven face; there is something in the way 
 he chalks his cue that half tempts Dayrell to take the 
 tempting odds that the representative of the firm of 
 Paring Brothers is anxious to lay. Slowly, amidst the 
 dead silence that prevails, the master hand poises his 
 E 4 
 
56 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 cue, then striking his ball on the lowest edge, sends 
 it full against the red, and, as the term is, " screws 
 back," without touching a single cushion. '' Bravo", 
 bursts from the lips of the bystanders as Carambole, 
 with the greatest nonchalance, finishes the game in 
 two easy strokes. 
 
 The band have ;"eturned their instruments to their 
 cases : the chairs are deserted : and the beau monde 
 has retired, some to their lodgings, some to the Cafe 
 to do justice to well-cooked dishes and Cunningham's 
 claret. Anon, in that balcony, will appear well- 
 dressed figures, and the Bohemians of the street will 
 gaze and wonder if all Parisiennes are fair like those. 
 The professional beggar will take up a position oppo- 
 site, and plead for sous ; a wandering minstrel will 
 collect a crowd of Ms admirers underneath, and so a 
 gorgeous July sun sets upon life in Dieppe, to be 
 renewed in another form an hour later in the ball- 
 room, or perhaps in a small apartment, which we 
 shall have occasion to visit presently. 
 
 " The Dayrell at his old Oxford games, making play 
 with the heiress of the far West," remarked Limmer 
 to his friend, as the two made the best of Blossoms' 
 ordinary, rather than extraordinary, claret after din- 
 ner. "You followed up the first attack, and held 
 your own, I will say, against all comers. More than 
 one Frenchman would have willingly changed places 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 57 
 
 with you/' added Limmer, in his usual bantering 
 way. 
 
 • " Of course I did the agreeable as well as I could, 
 especially when you kept out of the way. You would 
 not have a poor girl walk alone on the sands of Dieppe 
 — I was going to say, * by the sad sea waves," but 
 that expression might be inappropriate this fine 
 weather." 
 
 " Not at all," answered Limmer ; ^' only T happened 
 to hear Lyatt tell you that she was an heiress, and 
 my own eyes bear witness to her good looks; so I 
 put this and that together, and wondered how many 
 tetes-a-tetes would bring you to your old state of 
 matchless despondency. Then I thought I would 
 give you a timely warning." 
 
 " How absurdly you talk," said Dayrell. '^ Just 
 because I spoke to Miss Trelawney, and so whiled 
 away an hour at Dieppe, I must be trying to marry 
 her. Ton my word, Limmer, I think you are jea- 
 lous." 
 
 " Not I, my dear fellow, I only wish to give you a 
 bit of advice, which, like other wise people, you will 
 of course reject. Now, don't make any mistake; 
 she is far too clever to lose her heart to a man who 
 lost his money on the last St. Leger. You will be 
 victim number three or four, and be left in the same 
 state as you were after the Traherne catastrophe. 
 
58 WILD DAYHELL. 
 
 Have you forgotten the lesson, my boy, you received 
 then, and how you made a bet that you would not 
 be married for ten years ? Do as I do. Enjoy your- 
 self, and leave the other sex alone." And Limmer 
 drew himself back in his chair, his hands in his 
 pockets, and congratulated himself on the improba- 
 bility of any woman ever getting the better of him. 
 
 " Thank you much, but I am not so green as I 
 was in those youthful days. There can be no harm 
 in my amusing myself with a pretty girl, while you 
 are playing billiards and ecarte ; — at the same time, 
 Limmer, it was hardly worth while referring to such 
 unpleasant scenes." 
 
 One retrospective glance at the love-failures of our 
 hero. On entering into life — so, I believe, he inter- 
 preted his first assumption of coat tails — he met, at 
 his mother^s house, a lady some years older than 
 himself, and destined to give him many a sleepless 
 night. Her quiet demure face, and her good figure 
 artfully draped in blue, were generally irresistible ; 
 in addition to these charms, there was something 
 about her that made a stranger turn round and re- 
 mark, "That is what I call lady-like." Young 
 Dayrell was her chaperone in daily walks and rides ; 
 and, in appointing him as her guardian, I think his 
 mother acted foolishly. Yet the latter might only 
 have been carrying out the idea of the sage matron, 
 
WILD DAYKELL. 59 
 
 who, when asked if she was not afraid of her son 
 going too far with Miss Flirt-by-night, replied^ with 
 the greatest sang froidj " I will take care he does not 
 marry a person I disapprove, but will give him every 
 opportunity of getting his hand into practiced Day- 
 rell was properly "paralysed" before he went back 
 to school, and the bystanders had occasion to remark, 
 
 with some truth but greater malice, how Miss 
 
 was making a fool of that boy. But the boy returned 
 to his college-meads, and knowing no better, indulged 
 in his day-dream, selecting as his confidant a comrade 
 bigger, but not wiser than himself. It was, doubt- 
 less, all very childish, but the sequel was very pain- 
 ful, when his sister wrote and told him that Miss 
 
 had married " some one from Liverpool," and had 
 expressed a hope that he would come and pay her a 
 long visit after the honeymoon. 
 
 Dayrell had plenty of time to recover from the 
 shock of his first disappointment. Enchantress num- 
 ber two did not appear on the scene till the middle 
 of his second year at Oxford. He had retired, more 
 Owoniensium, to the country to read, and had selected 
 as his retreat the district famed, as Mr. Dickens tells 
 us, for hops, cherries, and pretty women. DufPers- 
 ville was slow — as most suburban localities in Eng- 
 land are ; no wonder if he was on the look-out for 
 something to relieve its dullness. This came in the 
 
60 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 shape of a Miss Wilson- — the subject of Limmer's 
 rhapsody — who he met one afternoon in the fashion- 
 able emporium of Miss Bandoline. He was intro- 
 duced, the following week, at the county ball, and 
 was duly entered on the list of her admirers. Of a 
 verity had he fallen into the hands of a " queen of 
 men/' a flirt of the first water, whose lustrous brown 
 eyes, braided hair, and merry laugh drew to her side 
 the most impervious of the sterner sex, and whose 
 cleverness prevented her from indulging her love of 
 fun and repartee to such an extent as to make her 
 admirers break the silken cord, and retire imme- 
 diately from the contest. People did say — "but 
 then,^^ as the wise man remarked, " people will say 
 anything now-a-days, except their prayers" — that 
 she had refused more than one good offer — still, if 
 the report were true, the ''No, thank you,'' must 
 have dropped from her lips with inimitable grace. 
 
 Dayrell fell without a struggle. The victress had 
 not need to stoop to conquer, or waste much time in 
 bringing this new fish into her net. Then followed 
 the usual episodes in a lover's existence, — the fre- 
 quent morning calls at the counting-house, sedulous 
 attention at balls which Annie was expected to 
 patronize, the selection of Mary Johnson's most mag- 
 nificent and high-priced bouquets, and swift pursuit of 
 her when she retired with her father to London fogs 
 
WILT) DAYBELL. 61 
 
 and Wimpole Street. Dayrell's infatuation was at 
 its height, when he travelled a hundred miles — the 
 greater part on the outside of a coach — to the Lady- 
 Patroness's ball at Richmond, when laughing Annie 
 honoured him with but two dances in the course of 
 that long evening, and, on handing her to her car- 
 riage, would grant neither gloves nor floral sprig as a 
 reward for his devotion. 
 
 In the ensuing spring Oxford met Cambridge on 
 the old course between Putney and Mortlake. Day- 
 rell, like a good patriot, took a ticket on board that 
 swift steamer, the " Pride of the Ocean," and saw the 
 race. But while lustily cheering for Oxford, when 
 her boat came in three lengths ahead of her oppo- 
 nent ; while laughing on his return to the " British" 
 at facetious waiter James, who met him on the door- 
 step and asked him if he was going " 'Ome for the 
 'olidays" — a scene which friend "Punch" was kind 
 enough to immortahze ; and while chatting with light 
 and dark blue-tied undergraduates, who thronged 
 that be-mirrored yet tarnished coffee-room, previous 
 to serving as jurymen for the Chief Baron, or being 
 addressed as " My dear boys" by the ubiquitous Mr, 
 Green, an untoward event had happened in Wimpole 
 Street. 
 
 " Master is at home," said the servant who 
 answered Dayrell's summons at Mr. Wilson^s door 
 
62 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 on the morning after the race; '^but he can see no 
 one." 
 
 *'Is Miss Wilson upstairs?" asked he; "and dis- 
 engaged ?" / 
 
 "Have you not heard the news, sir?" stammered 
 out the old domestic. *' How yesterday morning our 
 young lady went out for a walk, and has never re- 
 turned, and how they say she has eloped with a 
 
 gentleman, a Mr. D , who you may have seen 
 
 here sometimes, and how" 
 
 Dayrell heard no more. He received a shock that 
 morning which it took many a weary month to heal. 
 In few cases is unrequited love fatal, Mr. Thackeray 
 tells us. We " come again" with feelings somewhat 
 blunted, but, perhaps, the chastening we have re- 
 ceived makes us all the stronger to receive the buffets 
 Life has in store for us. After all, Annie was the 
 greatest sufferer. She who, by her numerous flirta- 
 tions, had hoodwinked her relations, had taken unto 
 herself a new home with a penniless barrister — 
 albeit, her first and only love — and who had been 
 pensioned by an unforgiving father with a hundred 
 pounds a year. 
 
 It was chance that led Dayrell, some time after 
 this, to a small lodging not a hundred miles from 
 Lincoln^s Inn, whose penetralia a charwoman was 
 scouring at mid-day, while from the kitchen ascended 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 63 
 
 odours of unappetising cookery. How were the 
 mighty fallen ! Poor Annie sat in an ill-furnished 
 apartment, her whilom lustrous eyes so dim, and her 
 look so careworn, as she toiled at some sketches 
 which Mr. Etching would probably refuse to buy, and 
 rebuked her children, who, with their prattlings, 
 would fain hinder her task. Difficult, indeed, was it 
 to recognise in that figure the pride of the ball-room, 
 the belle of other days ! It was a painftd and touch- 
 ing sight for Dayrell. Glady would he have dropped 
 a five-pound-note on the floor as though by mistake, 
 or left all his loose cash in some place where she 
 might find it after his departure. But he was far 
 too considerate to hurt her feelings by a gift. 
 Through Mr. Etching came money for her drawings, 
 and a request for more. In them that eminent 
 printseller seemed suddenly to have discovered some 
 intrinsic value. But we happen to know the person 
 who created the demand, and we also know that the 
 initials "A. D./' in the corner of each, were a sine 
 qua non with the purchaser, and hope that his disin- 
 terested kindness may some day meet its reward. 
 
64 WILD DATRELL. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The savans declare that gambling hardens, smoking 
 dries up, and early disappointment in love withers 
 the human heart. If so, there must have been an 
 " ORS triplex'' about DayrelFs breast. Verily had he 
 run the gauntlet of all three. How can Emily hope 
 to find a hole in the breastplate, bring our doughty 
 hero on his knees, and make him utter sentiments 
 such as are fully expressed in the grand old motto, 
 '^ Ich Dien ? " A band, too large for so limited 
 an audience, played in the Dieppe ball-room. Danc- 
 ing, even in la belle France, is not in high favour 
 during the dog-days. We beg pardon, we must 
 except Sunday evenings, when French meets French, 
 and make up for lost time by dancing till long past 
 midnight. 
 
 The new comers — Dayrell, Limmer, and the Tre- 
 lawneys — were present that evening, prepared, as 
 good dancers ought to be, to make the most of the 
 unlimited space allotted to the deux temps walses. 
 
 " Mamma talks of staying here three weeks, and 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 65 
 
 going afterwards to Ems/' confided Emily to Dayrell 
 at tlie conclusion of their second quadrille. " The 
 doctors say that my chest is weak, and that I ought 
 to try a little German air, and drink the waters. I 
 am sure it is all nonsense. I can walk, ride, and 
 dance as well as anybody, but mammas always will 
 take such ideas into their heads." 
 
 '' I cannot imagine that any great hole has been 
 pierced here as yet," answered Dayrell, innocently 
 placing his hand upon his heart instead of his lungs. 
 " I am sure there can be very little the matter, to 
 judge from the rapidity with which you executed 
 that last waltz under the auspices of that queer- 
 looking Frenchman.^' 
 
 '^ Don't abuse the Frenchmen, Mr. Dayrell ; they 
 dance much better than some English I could name. 
 Still, I like to choose my partners ; for some of the 
 former say very odd things at times. Fancy, one 
 day last year, when I told Monsieur Bracque that 
 his long-haired spaniel was not a gentleman's dog, 
 and that he ought to give it to some lady, he replied, 
 * If the prettiest lady in France offered to give me 
 six kisses, and the prettiest lady in England offered 
 to give me a dozen, I would not part with my little 
 pet ! ' Still, most of them are amusing, and if not 
 allowed to have their own way, can be kept in pretty 
 good order. But here comes the only Frenchman I 
 
66 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 detest. I am sure he is going to teaze me to dance 
 with him." 
 
 " Say you are engaged," said Dayrell. The next 
 moment he of the pinched-in waist and short- cropped 
 hair dropped back discomfited, and Miss Trelawney 
 and her partner were embarked in a graceful mazurka. 
 
 " As you are a stranger, Mr. Dayrell/' said Emily, 
 when the music ceased, " I must make you acquainted 
 with the customs and habits of Dieppe. This ball- 
 room is lighted three times a-week for our special 
 gratification. Yet the English do not attend, except 
 when they can make up a party, and, even then, re- 
 fuse to dance with people they don't know. Singular 
 custom, is it not ? But, then, insular we are by name 
 and insular in habits. There was a silly little girl, 
 called Kate Turner, here last year, who refused at first 
 to dance with Monsieur Grandjambe, a man every 
 bit as respectable as her papa ; but when he said he 
 was sorry such a pretty demoiselle could not waltz, 
 she jumped up and spun round the room with him 
 like a teetotum. You see that young lady with the 
 cherry ribbons at the end of the room. That is 
 Mademoiselle Galette, an especial favourite with all 
 my partners. She presides over the refreshment 
 department, and supplies us with champagne and 
 soda-water. You have only to open a bottle of the 
 former, and, having quenched your thirst, confide it 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 67 
 
 to her care. At the end of the dance, you return to 
 Mademoiselle, and she has a second tumbler ready for 
 you. She is an obliging and good girl. Out of the 
 profits she supports her infirm mother, and three 
 brothers of tender age. Up stairs there is, they say, 
 a small room, where they play ecarte all night. I 
 hope, Mr. Dayrell, you never gamble ? '^ 
 
 " I have quite given it up, I assure you," answered 
 Dayrell, " and I hope never to play again. I have 
 good reason for making such a resolution," added he, 
 with a sigh. 
 
 " I am delighted to hear you say so. I cannot 
 tell you how I dislike gamblers. Play makes you 
 all so selfish and distrait, that you become quite un- 
 bearable in society. Besides, of the men you play 
 with, so many are cheats. There was a very gentle- 
 manly man here last season, and such a good dancer, 
 who lost and won large sums of money every night. 
 Most people thought him very rich, and so made 
 private parties, at which even the ladies joined in a 
 game called lansquenet. Of course there was a grand 
 supper and champagne given on each occasion ; and 
 one evening the play was very high, or he very un- 
 lucky, but he left the table, having lost six thousand 
 pounds. I was so sorry that such a young man 
 should have been in the hands of people who play, if 
 they do nothing worse, every night of their lives." 
 
 f3 
 
68 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 " Up to everything, as I live/' thought Dayrell ; 
 " she has travelled to some purpose/^ " Then/' re- 
 plied he, " I must give a hint to my friend Limmer, 
 who is hopelessly attached to all games of chance, 
 and save him from the same .untoward fate." 
 
 As this was not a gala night, the hand left the 
 orchestra at an early hour. Now, as Hansoms, four- 
 wheeled cabs, or any sort of conveyance. — with the 
 exception of travelling-carriages under the guidance 
 of jack-booted postilions — are unknown in Dieppe, 
 ball-goers must follow the example of our ancestors, 
 and submit to be lighted to their respective houses by 
 lantern-bearing domestics. And a grand sight it is, 
 at the break-up of a ball, to glance down the principal 
 street at the lights moving hither and thither, and 
 see white satin shoes daintily picking their way over 
 uneven pavement and dangerous gully-holes. But 
 Dayrell trod "the lantern-lit path of sentiment," 
 when escorting daughter and mother to their lodg- 
 ings. Emily had taken his proffered arm — her other 
 being found sufficient to keep her ample folds of 
 muslin off the pavement. Yet, had ill-favoured 
 Brown or Smith awkwardly tendered her such assist- 
 ance, how kindly she would have declined, with 
 " Thank you, Mr. B., but I require both my hands 
 to hold up my dress." What though mamma was a 
 close follower behind, and the lantern-bearing servant 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 69 
 
 was in front, they could not see that a fair round arm 
 was pressed oftener than was necessary, giving cor- 
 rect emphasis to feebly expressed ideas. 
 
 "I hope you will call to-morrow," said mamma, 
 as Dayrell shook hands with them on the steps ; 
 "we shall be glad to see you, and talk over the 
 ball. — Good night." And Dayrell turned on his 
 heel as their door closed. His white kids dropped 
 into his pocket, and, after the manner of us mo- 
 derns, the cigar-case was fished up, and our hero 
 walked along the quay pensively thinking but furi- 
 ously smoking. 
 
 " The very thing," soliloquised he, " pretty, agree- 
 able, and has money. Yet people say that the three 
 are never united in the same person. Bah ! so much 
 for what the world says. But what will the mother 
 think — kind old lady though she is now — when I tell 
 her that I am hard up, and that I have been unlucky 
 on the turf? By Jove, it must all come out. Ah, 
 never mind; I'll let things take their course, sail 
 with the tide, and vive la fortune! ' It may, after all, 
 turn out as Limmer prophecied. But that reminds 
 me I must go and look for him ;" and Dayrell with 
 much reluctance quitted the open air, climbed a 
 narrow staircase in the etablissement, and entered a 
 small room, hot, close, and full of cigar smoke, — of 
 cigar smoke from thirty full-sized regalias in the 
 f3 
 
70 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 mouths of adventurers from every country in Europe, 
 and card-players of home growth. Amongst others 
 the figures of Limmer, Tomkins, and Simpkins, loom 
 through the hazy cloud. They are in high spirits, and 
 joking about the cards, the changes in the game, and 
 the quaint French characters. They are very hard 
 upon one in particular, known to the brotherhood 
 by the soubriquet of " the mangey pointer/' Not 
 doubting the respectability of the members of this 
 establishment, they are throwing down their Napo- 
 leons, as though they were playing with capitalists of 
 almost European celebrity. There is no good angel 
 to whisper in their ears, that one is a sharper from 
 Marseilles, a second a bankrupt manufacturer from 
 Lyons, a third a keeper of a Casino on the Italian 
 Boulevard, a fourth a ruined broker from the Bourse ; 
 or that of those that remain a dozen are professional 
 gamblers who live at Dieppe and by ecarte. So 
 Limmer and Company play unconscious of the his- 
 tories attached to their opponents. Not that it is 
 probable that Simpkins would refrain from giving 
 his sovereigns away, or Tompkins forbear to hang up 
 his bank-notes in the money-changers' shops,* matu- 
 
 * A gentleman who visited Dieppe, and used to play at the rooms, 
 had a peculiar manner of folding his English bank-notes. When 
 unfolded they retained the marks. As the money-changers always 
 display their wealth in their windows, the fashionable world of Dieppe 
 
WILD DATUELL. 71 
 
 tinal reminders of an over-niglit folly, if they knew 
 all. The infatuation of gambling and the folly of 
 such gentlemen is so great, that they will play till 
 they have scarcely enough to pay their fare to Eng- 
 land. More than that ; the lesson they receive now 
 will probably be forgotten a twelvemonth hence. 
 With refilled purses they will visit one of the thousand 
 foreign towns, so glad to receive the beaux joueurs 
 of England. Again they lose, and return home 
 ashamed of themselves, and afraid to register another 
 vow that they will not be robbed a third time by 
 foreign sharpers. 
 
 " You are new to this," said Lyatt to Dayrell, as 
 he entered the room. '' I don't think your friend, 
 Mr. Limmer — that is his name, is it not? — can 
 plead the same ignorance.^' 
 
 '' I am so, and only a looker on," he replied. " I 
 want to see how my friend yonder weathers the 
 storm. Fortune does not seem to favour its 
 Limmer to-night," he added, as that lover of games 
 of chance rose from his seat discomfited, and took 
 his place amongst the bystanders. 
 
 " You must let me initiate you into the mysteries," 
 
 used to stop every morning in front of the shop to see how many- 
 notes Mr. had changed that day. It became at last the most 
 
 important feature in the morning lounge. 
 r 4 
 
72 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 said Lyatt. " 'Gad, I ought to know something ahout 
 the game, considering how dearly I bought my ex- 
 perience. When a youngster, I used to watch the 
 Frenchmen in a kind of silent awe at the way they 
 handled their cards. They seemed more like wizards 
 than men. They knew what was in their hand by 
 simply looking at the inside edges of the cards, 
 Then I had heard of sauter-le-coup, bridging cards, 
 turning kings, pricking fingers and anointing them 
 with lemon juices, so as to make them sensitive 
 enough to feel the difference between kings, queens, 
 knaves, and aces. I believed that one of these tricks 
 decided every game I saw played. I longed to 
 discover an agile finger in an overt act ; needless to 
 add, I never did. Yet I know every one believes 
 them to be guilty of such faux pas, whenever it is 
 worth their while to practice them. I heard young 
 Morton innocently tell a party of elders the other 
 day, that he thought that Frenchmen, at least some 
 of them, could turn a king when they liked, when 
 Major Lanark took him up quite fiercely, and said, 
 'Why on earth mention such a stale old story? 
 Don't you know that at Paris last month a man 
 was turned out of a club, because, on an emergency, 
 he could not turn a king ! ' My opinion is, that they 
 are capable of practising such tricks, but are afraid 
 of doing so in public. Every Frenchman suspects 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 73 
 
 his neighbour, and watches him too closely to allow 
 
 of any deception. In a private house they might 
 
 exercise their talents, especially if playing with 
 
 unsuspicious people. No, Mr. Dayrell, they have 
 
 a much better system by which winning becomes a 
 
 certainty. The rules of ecarte at the club ordain 
 
 that two players shall take the cards for one game 
 
 only. When that is finished the loser vacates his 
 
 chair, and one of the bystanders fills his place. 
 
 The winner retains his, and, as it is technically 
 
 termed, passes. Now at all games of chance, the 
 
 luck follows one or other side of the table. For 
 
 instance, the players on our right hand will probably 
 
 pass twenty times, and their adversaries not more 
 
 than three or four in the next two hours, because 
 
 the vein appears to be with the former. Hence the 
 
 backers of the right side will be winners in the 
 
 proportion of four to one. Now, it is the special 
 
 idiosyncrasy of the speculative Briton to support 
 
 the losing party, either, I suppose, on the broad 
 
 principle, that the weaker requires his assistance, 
 
 or, that the run of luck will shortly change. A 
 
 Frenchman, on the contrary, is prepared to bet 
 
 heavily, so long as the cards are in his favour ; if he 
 
 finds matters going against him, he either retires, or 
 
 joins the ranks of the winners. Thus, at some period 
 
 of the evening, he must reap the benefits of one good 
 
 f 
 
74 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 ' pass ;' and no sooner has he realized that, and his 
 champion has been vanquished, than, like a shade on 
 the banks of the Acheron, he ' melts into thin air,' 
 or betakes himself to supper and thin sliced sausages, 
 leaving the unfortunate English, who have all along 
 been staking their money on the losing side, to 
 lament the absence of capital, when it is their turn 
 to win. A happy notion this, Mr. Dayrell, is it not ? 
 It so completely realizes our idea of ' Heads, I win — 
 tails, you lose.' " 
 
 " Upon my word it does," said Dayrell. " But, 
 tell me, who is the little man, who sits at the head 
 of the table, twirling his pencil, and looking so 
 drowsy and uninterested." 
 
 " That is Descartes, whose business it is to make 
 out a list of such as wish to take a hand, to prevent 
 any one playing out of his turn, and to see that 
 the stakes on each side are evenly balanced. It is 
 his business also to prevent the frequent repetition 
 of what they call ' erreurs' In this he totally fails. 
 At the end of every game, when the happy winners 
 divide the spoils, there is always a deficiency of some 
 ten or fifteen francs. A nice little harvest the 
 robber must make. Supposing he sits out five 
 hundred winning games in the course of the season, 
 and takes up ten francs that don't belong to him on 
 each occasion, he will net a snug income of two 
 
WILD DAYRELL, 75 
 
 hundred pounds a year. That old colonel yonder, 
 with the decoration, who sits by the money, is 
 popularly supposed to be the pi underer-in- chief. 
 Nobody ever saw him stake anything ; still, at the 
 end of every game he claims, and takes, ten francs, 
 and the deficiency thus created is made good by the 
 other winners. I asked Monsieur Le Bas, the other 
 day, why somebody did not accuse the old gentleman 
 of the robbery. The Frenchman simply shrugged 
 his shoulders, and remarked, * Que voulez vous ? 
 Do you think that any of us, for a few miserable 
 francs, are going to run the risk of having three 
 inches of cold steel in our sides to-morrow morning?^ 
 But look ! your friend Limmer has just taken his 
 seat. Let us watch the game.'' 
 
 The cards are dealt to Limmer. This, his first 
 hand, is easy to play. Do what he will, he cannot 
 lose the trick. The bystanders look over his shoulder, 
 and in dignified silence watch the game. A moderate 
 outburst of remarks as England scores one. Then 
 Limmer deals, but gives himself a very difi'erent 
 hand to the last, one that requires a moment's 
 thought, and necessitates some hesitation before 
 closing with his adversary's proposal to have fresh 
 cards. Advice is freely tendered by everybody at 
 the same moment. " Jouez qa,'^ says an old veteran 
 who has grown grey in card service. *' Non, 
 
76 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 Monsieur, Jouez 9a/' implores a young clerk, who, 
 beardless though he be, is no mean authority on a 
 game that he has studied in bed and out of bed, in 
 dressing-gown and evening clothes, since he was 
 eight years old. Limmer is bewildered. Up go 
 his arms spasmodically into the air. He shakes off 
 the crowd of Frenchmen, as he would a swarm of 
 bees buzzing about his ear, plays what he thinks 
 best, and loses the trick. (Frightful crash of voices 
 and Babel of bystanders' tongues.) Again the cards 
 are dealt. Again Limmer loses, and retires to the 
 back-ground to listen to the upbraidings of some, 
 the execrations of others, and the consolations of 
 nobody. 
 
 " Come away, Limmer," said Dayrell. " Take a 
 glass of my champagne and then away to Blossom's. 
 Your wide-awake is not destined, this evening at 
 least, to be filled with five-franc pieces. Now, Mr. 
 Solomon," added he, as they walked down the street, 
 ^^who was the wisest man, — ^you, who were ruining 
 your health in a hot, smoky atmosphere, and paying 
 dearly for the precious indulgence, — or I, who had 
 a dance, a pleasant talk, and now have a quiet 
 conscience to go to bed with ? Allons, Mr. Limmer, 
 if I had not done the same thing in my younger 
 days, I would read you a homily that you would not 
 soon forget." 
 
WILD DAYRELL. H 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 There are few places so unsatisfactory for a court- 
 ship as Dieppe. There are no special advantages in 
 the shape of shady walks, sequestered arbours, or 
 murmuring streams, whither a pair of wanderers 
 can go and congratulate themselves on being un- 
 molested and unseen. " Pleasant and airy is the 
 pier," you say, — so it is ; but the invalids and old 
 gentlemen hold the same opinion, and taking their 
 camp-stools thither, snuff the breeze from early 
 morn to dewy eve, watching with obtrusive eyes 
 any lovers who may chance to invade their sanc- 
 tuary. There are objections to the promenade. For, 
 supposing it to be, as yet, too early for the fair 
 dames of Dieppe to turn out in their variegated 
 plumage, one is safe to meet a host of bathers 
 returning from their dip, or the blouse- clad gamins 
 who everlastingly flirt with the nursery-maids. 
 " Why not go into the country," you ask ? Bah ! 
 and find nothing but dusty roads, and mutilated 
 trees that give no shade, to say nothing of the 
 
78 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 chance of a stroke from the " sun's perpendicular 
 rays." After such a trip, with the thermometer 
 probably at ninety, Cupid himself might be expected 
 to drop his wings, and feel his hair to be sadly 
 in want of Mr. Marsh's washing and cleansing 
 apparatus. 
 
 Enthusiastic mothers may " get up '^ pic-nics, but 
 pic-nics, pleasant as they are, cannot be compassed 
 every day. No matter how anxious Mrs. Hooker 
 may be to give Captains Plantagenet and Fitz James 
 an opportunity of " speaking out " to her Bessie and 
 Margaret, she would be a bold woman to exhibit 
 her daughters too often, and make the smitten ad- 
 mirer too conversant with their undoubted charms. 
 Besides, should we wish oftener to partake of warm 
 champagne and indifferently cooked potatoes under 
 the wide-spreading beech-tree, appropriate spots for 
 the purpose near Dieppe are scarce. True, the 
 Castle of Arques is a delightful old ruin, but toujours 
 Castle of Arques would become very stale. What is 
 there left but the ball-room, and what we started 
 from — the lodgings ? The former, in the absence of 
 balconies and conservatories, we summarily dismiss. 
 The latter, — yes — something may be done there. 
 But bear in mind, Mr. Adonis, mammas cannot 
 always be leaving the room on pretence of rectifying 
 some mistake in their dinner orders, or be continually 
 
WILD DATRELL. 79 
 
 fetching scent or pocket handkerchiefs from a neigh- 
 bouring apartment; nor run away with the idea, 
 that, in her absence, you are free from interlopers. 
 Spooner, in such a sanctuary, was interrupted when 
 approaching the most tender and touching part of a 
 lover's advances. A.t the end of the room there 
 was a glass door, veiled, in French fashion, by a 
 muslin curtain, which was supposed to prevent the 
 actions of the people inside being seen. A chance 
 glance in this direction assured him that two female 
 heads, belonging either to the domestic or family 
 portion of the establishment, were flattening their 
 noses against the glass, and attempting to fathom 
 the mysteries of Spooner's conference with his in- 
 amorata; and, although on being discovered, the 
 sight-seers scuttled off with marvellous celerity, and 
 Spooner regained his seat with as small an amount 
 of awkwardness as could be expected, it was a long 
 time before that bashful youth screwed up courage 
 enough to make a second attempt. 
 
 In spite of such local drawbacks, Emily and 
 Dayrell had frequent interviews. By occasionally 
 drifting on to the beach, where mamma certainly 
 sat hard by, but, immersed in the pages of a brown- 
 paper covered volume, was unconscious of the passing 
 scene, and by assisting at the balls and pic-nics, op- 
 portunities arose of which our hero took advantage. 
 
80 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 Luckily too for him, Emily was mistress at home. 
 She was an only child, and, what is of more account 
 to those who love to have their own way, an invalid. 
 If an honest professor of the art of healing, one of 
 the tell-you-his-mind Esculapii of the old school, had 
 been consulted about her bodily ailments, he would 
 have abruptly answered, " Stuff" and nonsense ; she 
 is as well as I am." But her relations had once been 
 told that she was delicate, and having imbibed this 
 notion, Mrs. Trelawney would have been untrue to 
 the stubborn principles of her sex, had she refused 
 to adhere to, and do battle for, the idea. Emily's 
 wishes, therefore, were the law of the household. 
 She could persuade her mother to do whatever she 
 wished ; but it is right to add, that she reigned less 
 absolutely and tyranically than might be supposed. 
 The exercise, however, of even a mild form of des- 
 potism tends to the production of a somewhat for- 
 ward and precocious young lady. Not that this 
 exotic, as a rule, fascinates the sterner sex. On the 
 contrary, the peach-blossom cheek, the languishing 
 eye, and the most milk-and-water conversation, will 
 often wrest the palm from those who can think for 
 themselves, and give an opinion which we Solons 
 would be better for listening to. But Emily was not 
 one of these forward girls. It was only when her 
 advice was asked, that she showed she could speak to 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 81 
 
 the purpose; or wlien some young gentleman, in 
 over-joyousness of spirits, jumped over the traces, 
 that she could administer a rebuke. " Do your 
 friends call you 'mentor/ or 'menteur?^'^ slipped 
 out of her mouth one evening, in answer to a well- 
 known raconteur of stories and adviser of youth. 
 
 Thus Emily, being mistress of the household, 
 planned country excursions and walks, at all of 
 which Dayrell somehow assisted. Had Mrs. Tre- 
 lawney been acquainted with his antecedents, and 
 the miserable state of his exchequer, she could not 
 have done otherwise than act the prudent mother, 
 and put a veto upon her daughter's arrangements. 
 But here Fortune befriended Dayrell. Stapley, who 
 knows everybody, and who, spring, summer, and 
 winter, is gadding about the watering-places, hap- 
 pened this summer to be at Dieppe, and, having 
 known Dayrell in his palmy days, gave flourishing 
 accounts of his resources and family, which, coming 
 in the way of friendly gossip to the ears of Mrs. 
 Trelawney, had lulled to sleep any natural feeling of 
 curiosity or suspicion. So pleasantly sped the days 
 for Dayrell, and in such good spirits did he write to 
 his sister, that she, good soul, guessed that there was 
 a lady in the case ; and, balancing her foot on the 
 fender, and gazing into the fire-place, wondered 
 whether her future sister was fair or dark, tall or 
 
82 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 short, and, in her answer, hoped *'that everything 
 would be for the best^^ — a general, not to say enig- 
 matical, phrase, suggestive of further confidences. 
 Nor were the warm summer evenings mis-spent. 
 Often would Dayrell join the family circle, and, if 
 not ^^hit" at back-gammon, or check-mated at chess, 
 listen to the Spanish and French ditties for which 
 Emily's voice was well adapted. Rare performer she 
 was on the piano. Gladly did the old Dieppoise^ 
 as she clanked along the streets in her cumbrous 
 sabots, stop under the open window, through whose 
 muslin curtains the subdued lamplight struggled, 
 and, hearing a favourite native air, muttered cest 
 ravissant, and stumbled off, a thought happier, to 
 her confined, but old-fashioned garret. 
 
 One evening Mrs. Trelawney sat on the sofa toil- 
 ing at yards of canvas, to be turned, albeit at some 
 very distant date, into a border for her curtains. 
 Kate was at the piano, and Dayrell stood by in the 
 constrained attitude that a gentleman generally cul- 
 tivates, when Mademoiselle sings from memory, and 
 there are no music pages to be turned over. It was 
 a Spanish air she was singing, in which a Seville 
 girl was supposed to be standing at an open casement 
 and lamenting the loss of her lover. 
 
 " Somebody in Dieppe must be doing this evening 
 much the same as my Spanish heroine, eh ! Mr. 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 83 
 
 Dayrell V^ and Miss Emily slily glanced at him, and 
 finished her performance with the customary run 
 over the notes. " They say you are mixed up in it, 
 if not the principal concoctor of the plot. I con- 
 gratulate you on being able to keep a secret better 
 than most people. Still I think you might have 
 made us your confidants." 
 
 " So it is known already," he answered. " Well, I 
 am prepared to meet my fate — even to be torn to 
 pieces by the infuriated Mr. Sandes in the cause of 
 disinterested friendship. Excuse me, Miss Tre- 
 lawney, for my silence. However much T may 
 admire a legitimate thirst after knowledge, I never 
 could persuade myself to put a lady in possession of 
 any important secret. Please don't frown. If you'll 
 forgive my silence, I will now give you a true and 
 correct version of the aff'air. You must recollect 
 Captain Splice — a thin, good-looking man, with light 
 downy moustaches — generally to be seen in front 
 of Horgan's Hotel with an immense regalia in his 
 mouth. He met Miss Sandes last winter in England, 
 and followed her here from Leamington. They 
 were a charming couple, just made for one another, 
 I should say. It was quite afi'ecting to see them 
 making love, like a couple of doves on the eaves of a 
 house. Neither said much, but the way they looked 
 at one another reminded me of a little boy and girl, 
 g2 
 
84 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 of the mature ages of nine and eight, exchanging 
 timid sentimental glances at a juvenile dance. The 
 only obstacle to their happiness was a stern father, 
 who intended making over Miss Sandes and the 
 20,000/. she has on coming of age, to a youthful 
 cousin. These family arrangements are all very well, 
 but not viewed in the same light by my friend the 
 Captain. He feels, Miss Trelawney, that the best 
 feelings of his nature are being trifled with. If he 
 could, he would, like a friend of mine, relieve him- 
 self by shedding tears ; but his romance takes an- 
 other turn. He preserves a dogged silence, and, the 
 more unhappy he is, the more tobacco he consumes. 
 Now, what advice would you have given to any one 
 who came at midnight, told you he was in love, that 
 his passion was returned, and that the only obstacle 
 to his happiness was a crusty, unnatural papa V 
 
 " In the first place, Mr. Dayrell, I would not have 
 seen a person at that unreasonable hour ; and, in the 
 second, I would not listen to any one who hinted at 
 rope-ladders, a chaise down the lane, and Gretna. 
 Suppose I " 
 
 " Wouldn't do such a thing for the world, Miss 
 Trelawney. You won't see it in the right light. 
 Just consider what are even a parent's wishes to 
 blighted affection? What is married life without 
 Love? And how miserable the poor wife must be 
 
WILD DAYHELL. 85 
 
 till husband number one is removed from this busy- 
 scene. Besides, when the knot is once tied, the run- 
 aways can return to the parent, and the latter, when 
 he sees how useless all opposition and anger must be, 
 forgives, if he does not forget." 
 
 " What shocking ideas you have to-night, Mr. 
 Dayrell ; and I am sure you must be quite wrong. 
 No one elopes now-a-days. Besides, thanks to the 
 spoil-sport electric wires, the blacksmith^s occupation 
 is gone — at least they told us so when we passed the 
 Gretna Station on the Northern line last autumn." 
 
 '^ I must enlighten you on that subject, Miss Tre- 
 lawney. There are Gretnas under another name, 
 where couples in a hurry can be expeditiously and 
 cheaply married — for instance, the loyal, free, and 
 independent states, as the inhabitants say, of Jersey. 
 With this harbour of refuge in my mind's eye, I 
 formed a plan for our gallant captain. A steamer 
 leaves this place every week for St. Helier's. I found 
 out that she was to sail on the day of the ball (yes- 
 terday), at 11 A.M. This would not suit my plans, so 
 I induced the captain for a consideration to delay his 
 departure till 11 p.m. Papa was in the habit of 
 playing two rubbers of whist at every ball; and if 
 any Englishman would cut in, and put up with his 
 mistakes, would sit out four or five games. This 
 task I undertook. I then told Splice that, when 
 g3 
 
86 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 he saw us comfortably seated at the table, he and 
 Miss Sandes might slip out, meet the servant who 
 brought her cloak, bonnet, and boots, and trot off to 
 the vessel with the utmost celerity. I, moreover, 
 hired a duenna — such an acid-looking monster — to 
 accompany them, and make it all proper. On the 
 night of the ball I met Sandes, and conducted him 
 to the whist-table. We cut, and I became his part- 
 ner. Just as we were winning the second game he 
 made a revoke. Of course he was found out, and, 
 like most criminals when detected in such an act, 
 was horribly angry. ' I tell you, sir,' he said to his 
 adversary, a Frenchman of sinister and Barabbas- 
 like aspect, ' I did not play that card.^ ' Monsieur 
 se trompe* answered Barabbas, quite affably, follow- 
 ing up his remark with explanations far too profuse 
 and intricate to be comprehended by any ordinary 
 intellect. ' Then bon soir^ said Mr. Sandes, me- 
 nacingly throwing the francs he had lost on the 
 table ; ' perhaps you will be able to play without 
 partners,' and he stalked away, and looked for his 
 daughter amongst the dancers. As ill-luck would 
 have it. Splice's scapegrace boy had been late in 
 coming with the necessary disguise. The anxious 
 pair were looking into the court-yard, when Mr. 
 Sandes burst upon them with, ' Why are you not 
 dancing, Fanny?' *We were only looking at the 
 
WILD DATRELL. 87 
 
 stars, papa dear/ answered the little deceiver ; ' how 
 beautiful they are to-night!' 'J am going home 
 immediately/ said papa angrily, not because he sus- 
 pected anything, but simply because the loss of 
 thirteen francs annoyed him exceedingly. ' Go in 
 and win/ I had just time to say to Splice, as he led 
 Miss Sandes to the robing-room ; ' tell Mr. Sandes 
 everything ; ' but I could not add more without being 
 overheard. They left the rooms, and I soon after- 
 wards started for Blossom's Hotel. I went to bed 
 and fell asleep. I had a dream. An object ap- 
 peared to me, with hair scattered promiscuously 
 over a manly forehead. A cigar protruded from the 
 corner of its mouth. Evening clothes adorned its 
 person, and a white tie, but the bows of the latter 
 were twisted under the ear, not the chin, of the 
 object. A composite candle, guttered by the draft 
 from the door, flickered in its hand. This apparition 
 stood at the bottom of my bed. * It 's all up,' I 
 heard, and in the sepulchral accents recognised the 
 voice of Splice. 'No /am not,' I managed to 
 answer from between the sheets. ' I can see that,' 
 he sorrowfully replied ; ' but you soon will be, and 
 ready to do me a favour.' (' Shall I ?' I thought, 
 thoroughly hating him for thus disturbing my 
 slumbers.) 'I have seen Mr. Sandes myself, and 
 spoken to him, but he will not give his consent. I 
 G 4 
 
88 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 start for England this morning. Will you go to Paris 
 on my account ? * ' Paris ! I go to Paris ! ' I an- 
 swered, starting up in the bed. * Are you mad, or am 
 I dreaming ? ' ' Yes, old fellow ; I want you to go to 
 Paris. It is no distance from here. You would be 
 back in less than a week. You see, my plan is this. 
 As soon as I arrive in England, I shall go to my 
 uncle's. Sir E. Splice, — he is very fond of me, — 
 always used to give me tips when I was a boy, — I 
 shall ask him to write a letter — a proper letter, you 
 know, all about our family and connections — to Mr. 
 Sandes ; this I will forward to you at Paris, and if 
 you will give it to him, and in a quiet conversation 
 talk of me as an exemplary character, or throw out 
 hints about a slate quarry or coal mine that may be 
 my property some day, you will render me a service 
 I never will forget. Then, if Sandes receives the 
 proposition kindly, telegraph to me, and I will be in 
 Paris in twelve hours.* A cool proposition, was it 
 not, at that early hour of the morning ? '* 
 
 " And what answer did you give ? " asked Emily. 
 
 ^* He bothered me so, that in a weak moment I 
 assented." 
 
 " I thought we should have had the pleasure of 
 your company as far as Ems,'' said mamma. " You 
 said, the other day, you should like to see that part 
 of Germany .'' 
 
WILD DATRELL. 89 
 
 "Indeed I did/' he answered; "and, upon my 
 word, if I had a shilling about me, instead of these 
 shabby franc-pieces, I would make an affidavit, as 
 Paul Pry says, never to do another good natured 
 thing as long as I lived, much less attempt to run 
 a young couple into matrimony. But when poor 
 Splice is in extremis, — when pretty Miss Sandes is in 
 the depths of anxiety and misery, and I have given 
 my promise, — how can I retract ? " 
 
 "You might go to Paris, and join us at Ems,'^ 
 suggested mamma. 
 
 " Yes, I might,^' replied Dayrell, hardly satisfied 
 with the solution of the difficulty. 
 
 " But not till after the races, mamma,'' said Emily. 
 " Mr. Dayrell promised the Prefet he would take us 
 to the course." 
 
 " That is a prior engagement, and shall be faith- 
 fully kept,'' he replied. " Splice cannot command 
 my services till the end of the week. But I think I 
 have interfered sufficiently with your night*s rest— 
 I will only add, good night, and may we have a fine 
 day for the races." 
 
 " Am I dreaming, or is it all true ?" thought Day- 
 rell, as he left the house. " Can it ever he ? She was 
 indeed anxious about my trip to Paris, and mamma 
 invited me to Ems. Can I reasonably hope ? Bah ! 
 They must have made some mistake — been led astray 
 
90 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 by some report of a fortune that I do not possess — 
 take me for my rich cousin, perhaps — yet, after what 
 I told them, they could hardly be so foolish. How 
 am I to face the expose of my affairs ? How present 
 my nil in presently and not too much in futuro^ to the 
 scrutiny of an inquisitive mother, or the Argus eye 
 of an own-brother-to-Tales ? And the consequences I 
 rejection with ignominy; proved to be an impostor 
 by my own showing ; turned off by mamma, and for- 
 gotten in a week by the daughter. By heavens " 
 
 '^ Walking into the sea with the calm deliberation 
 of a blind man," uttered the well known voice of 
 Lyatt, from the opposite side of the street. *^ Am I 
 to be an eye-witness of a suicide, and be the first to 
 carry the harrowing news to the Rue St. Martin ? " 
 
 "Where it might be received with more com- 
 posure than you imagine," replied Dayrell. " What 
 made you mention the Trelawneys, just as though 
 I had the slightest chance of succeeding in that 
 quarter ? '' 
 
 "Another bashful specimen of humanity," said 
 Lyatt in tones of pity, " discovered by accident, not 
 to say, by moonlight. For you, the envy of the 
 Frenchmen, and the subject of conversation for the 
 loungers of Dieppe, to tell me that you have not the 
 pluck to carry off the heiress of this and the last 
 season. 'Gad, Dayrell, at your age, you ought to be 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 91 
 
 ashamed of yourself; you, who cannot be numbered 
 amongst the juveniles, the 
 
 *Fortunati nimium, sua si bona norint ;' 
 
 the happy but timid youths, who, in excess of mo- 
 desty, block up the doorways of ball rooms, and gaze 
 with longing eyes at heiresses and beauties, yet are 
 afraid to speak to them. Look at me. I am not 
 rich, you know that ; I am not good-looking ; I am 
 not young; I am not strong in conversation, though 
 T may be blessed with a certain amount of impu- 
 dence. Still, if Mrs. Lyatt were removed from this 
 sublunary sphere, and I happened to meet such a 
 ^ood partie as Miss Trelawney, do you think I should 
 shrink from speaking my mind ? Why I would pro- 
 pose, and be accepted, before you bashful non- 
 dancers had made up your minds to solicit the 
 honour of the next quadrille.^' 
 
 " Talk on. It 's very easy to say what you would 
 do. But tell me, supposing you were accepted, how 
 are you going to multiply the great round into 
 something substantial, when the lawyers are called 
 in and settlements have to be made ? Besides, you 
 don't know how I have been taken in on other occa- 
 sions ; " and DayrelPs thoughts reverted to his pre- 
 vious failures. 
 
 " Poor boy ! " said Lyatt, mistaking DayrelFs 
 
92 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 meaning. '^ Do you imagine that I am a convert to 
 Lady Scatter cash's logic, ' if she has nothing, and 
 he has nothing, nothing could be better?' That 
 would not suit my constitution. No, if I were in 
 the country I should take the train ; if in London, 
 a Hansom cab; and by proffering a shilling to a 
 guardian of last wills and testaments, should become 
 the momentary possessor of a parchment, whose con- 
 tents would inform me how much a father did be- 
 queath unto his much-loved daughter, and under 
 what conditions. But you may keep your shilling in 
 your pocket. Miss Trelawney is an heiress. Take 
 my word for it." 
 
 " Granted ; but that is not the point. I want to 
 know how to parry the usual enquiries made by an 
 anxious mamma on the morning after the proposal. 
 I don't mind telling you, Lyatt, that any letter ad- 
 dressed to my lawyer, asking for information re- 
 specting my pecuniary resources, will be shortly, 
 nay, curtly, answered." 
 
 "Is that the difficulty?*' answered the mentor. 
 " It was you that gave such excellent advice to Splice 
 the other day, surely the same is applicable to your 
 case.'' 
 
 '* Not at all. His was quite different. He has a 
 rich uncle and relations who might help him." 
 
 " So have you, doubtless. Write to them — give 
 
WILD DATRELL. 93 
 
 them full particulars, and a mother and a sister will 
 manage it for you. Stay, it will suit you better to 
 inveigle the Trelawneys across the Channel'. Let 
 them meet your family. Let mamma meet mamma 
 Let a sister pour her gushing experiences into Miss 
 Emily's ear. Let them talk for a week, if they will. 
 1^11 answer for the result. Do you still say no, and 
 shake your head? I understand it now — you have 
 been too long in the same society. You want a 
 change of scene — a few of those cobwebs swept out 
 of your brain. Come to the ecarte room, back Lim- 
 mer's hand, distract your thoughts by winning or 
 losing a few Napoleons. Wonderful results have 
 sometimes flowed from such a chance visit to the 
 tables." 
 
 ^^ Perhaps so," answered Dayrell; "but not to- 
 night. Here is my hotel, and I shall retire upstairs. 
 Thanks for your advice. Till the races, adieu !" 
 
 Limmer, in the meantime, had not been idle. A 
 few pages back his gift of eloquence was fully recog- 
 nised; and, as he spared not the flower of his rhe- 
 toric when conversing with his inferiors, besides being 
 liberal in promises of future douceurs, it is not to be 
 wondered at if he was very much " thought of " by 
 the uneducated masses. Landlord Blossom, albeit 
 ofttimes bitten by plausible adventurers in the matter 
 
94 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 of his bill, succumbed in forty-eight hours, and in 
 glowing terms described him to his wife, as *' le 
 brave garqon Anglais J' But Limmer, as he took his 
 candlestick and retired to his room, after making 
 this impression on the facile heart of Blossom, 
 winked knowingly at himself in the glass, and had 
 already decided on turning it to his advantage. 
 
 It happened that, in the stables of the hotel, there 
 stood an Irish horse — ugly and ragged hipped, 'tis 
 true — but of great size and power. It caught the 
 eye of Limmer in his first matutinal ramble. He 
 prosecuted enquiries, and received answers in the 
 flowery language in which ostlers of every country 
 are wont to indulge. 
 
 " Can he jump ?" enquired our speculator. 
 
 " Oui, par exempUj haut comme qa,*' replied the 
 glazed-hatted attendant, flourishing his fork a yard 
 above the corn-rack. 
 
 '^ Can he gallop?^' 
 
 " Qui, Monsieur, like the wind." But we need 
 not stop to ask how that element performs such a 
 feat. 
 
 Then Limmer leaned his chin on his hand, and 
 took counsel with himself touching this noble qua- 
 druped. Buy? No ; he would not buy — perhaps, we 
 might add, he could not, except by a bill at six 
 months, a species of payment not exactly suited to 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 95 
 
 the tastes of our lively neighbour the Gaul. Besides, 
 experience had shown him the folly of investing in 
 such uncertain property as horse-flesh. As hiring or 
 borrowing were the only other means at his disposal, 
 he had an interview with Blossom, the owner, the 
 result of which will presently appear. 
 
 " Chacun a son gout" said Limmer, as Dayrell and 
 he sat one evening after dinner discussing their wine, 
 and the former concluded the account of his adven- 
 tures in the Rue St. Martin. " Since you have given 
 me the details of your proceedings, perhaps you 
 would like to Hsten to mine. You will be sorry to 
 hear that, owing to sudden creditorial pressure, the 
 Honourable Mr. Fakenham has been obliged to leave 
 Dieppe. But Blossom did not allow him to depart 
 without leaving some security for his kittle' bill. 
 In the place of money, the hon. gentleman left his 
 famous horse, Casse-cou, intended to start and win 
 the Dieppe Steeplechase, and now under the control 
 of me, Limmer, surnamed ' the Lucky.' Blossom's 
 knowledge of horse-flesh is very limited; his ma- 
 nagement is worse. Casse-cou was allowed his full 
 feeds of corn, but was seldom exercised. Casse-cou, 
 in the exuberance of his spirits, kicked the ostler. 
 Casse-cou was harnessed to the landlord's gig, and 
 kicked it to pieces. Then Blossom's heart was sad ; 
 Mrs. B. was visibly affected unto tears, and urged 
 
96 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 her lord and master to make away with ce vilain 
 monstre. Then I came to Blossom as a saviour; 
 rescued him from the slough of despond, by taking 
 the whole care and responsibility of Casse-cou, and 
 am to pay fourteen francs a week for his keep. Fur- 
 thermore, we have agreed that the horse is to be 
 entered for the gentleman's race ; that if he wins, 
 the stakes are to be divided ; and if he loses, he is to 
 be again under the care of Blossom. I assured him 
 that the horse must win, and some rich Parisian 
 would give a thousand pounds for him. * A thousand 
 pounds 1 how many francs is that ? ' he exclaimed, 
 as the commercial mind of Blossom expanded. 'I 
 will send the receipt to Monsieur Fakenham to- 
 night, and I shall gain the whole thousand pounds 
 for myself/ Thus, I have not spent any of that 
 precious commodity, ready-money; I am the quasi- 
 owner of a horse ; I may win a great race, and as 
 much money as your gaudy wide-awake will hold. 
 Shake hands, Dayrell, order another bottle of Mou- 
 ton, and drink to my success/^ 
 
 " A remarkably nice boy you are, Limmer, not to 
 say clever. But this time you may find that you 
 have overreached yourself. Do you believe, for one 
 instant, that the French will allow an Englishman 
 to win one of their races ? If you come in first, a 
 distance a-head of the others, they will prove you to 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 97 
 
 have gone the wrong side of a post ; and if you win 
 by a length, obliquity of vision on the part of the 
 judge will give the victory to the second horse." 
 
 " Never fear, Mr. Dayrell, I know all about that ; 
 I didn't attend La Marche races for nothing, and 
 see the English-trained, English-ridden horse, the 
 Curate, proclaimed the winner, though, to my cer- 
 tain knowledge, he was not the first to pass the post. 
 The man in the judge's box was not a genius, like 
 our Mr. Clarke -, he was only an amateur, and was 
 terribly flurried by * a near thing.' So half-a-dozen 
 confederates assisted him to form his judgment by 
 shouting under the box, as the horses passed, * Bravo 
 the Curate ! the Curate ! ' and, strangely enough, up 
 went the Curate's number. It is as well to be pre- 
 pared for all contingencies. Perhaps I shall be, per- 
 haps not ;" and here Limmer chuckled. 
 
 " Allow me to say, Limmer, that in a parliamentary 
 sense> you are nothing better than a robber." 
 
 " Don't flurry yourself, my dear fellow," said the 
 other, noways disconcerted at the compliment. " I 
 was only talking of what was done at La Marche. I 
 shall win without any assistance of the kind. It is 
 only in case of accidents,'' and here a succession of 
 winks closed Limmer's sentence. 
 
 From the date of this conversation up to the 
 morning of the race, it would be difficult to say 
 
98 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 when Limmer took his natural rest. His training 
 summoned him twice a day to the race-course. 
 There, on Casse-cou's back, he galloped at a furious 
 pace, standing up in his stirrups, and shouting to the 
 workmen to get out of his way. " Diable,*' muttered 
 the natives as he passed them at full gallop, and 
 strained their eyes, expecting a man who did not sit 
 down in his saddle to fall off any moment. Not- 
 withstanding all this, his seances at the ecarte table 
 were not foreshortened. He even found time for 
 further schemes in connection with the race. 
 
 There was a spice of romance about the ostler's 
 summary of Casse-cou's capabilities. True, he could 
 jump a fence of any reasonable height, but he lacked 
 the quiet "on and off^^ of the accustomed steeple- 
 chaser. He could "stay" for ever, but he was 
 deficient in pace ; a failing that in winter might not 
 be of much account, but in summer, when the 
 ground was hard, would materially interfere with his 
 chances. Limmer soon discovered this defect in his 
 horse, and hit upon a plan for remedying it. He 
 obtained an introduction to the race committee, and 
 singling out more particularly that working member, 
 Monsieur Paille-foin, inundated him with so many 
 compliments, that had not Limmer, from motives of 
 his own, declined the honour, he certainly would 
 have been elected honorary steward. 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 99 
 
 " Really, Monsieur Paille-foin/' said Limmer one 
 morning on the Place, *Hlie fences now-a-days on the 
 steeple-chase courses are simply ridiculous ; there is 
 not one on ours that I could not hop over. I am 
 sure your grey mare would not stop to look, but 
 take them all in her stride. You remember our 
 Leicestershire gates and timber jumps; you should 
 have one or two like them, and, depend upon it, your 
 mare, who is such a splendid fencer, would have a 
 better chance of winning." 
 
 "I have seen Leicestershire myself, — I know it 
 well, Monsieur Leemare," replied Paille-foin, who, 
 in a railway carriage y had once travelled through 
 that country, and was therefore a competent autho- 
 rity. "I think it will be as well to make some 
 alterations. I will give orders to the workmen to 
 make some of the fences stronger and higher.'^ 
 
 Which no doubt he did. But, to make assurance 
 doubly sure, Limmer changed a five-franc piece, and 
 distributing the smaller coins amongst the peasants, 
 caused two or three superlative '^ obstacles ^' to be 
 reared and propped up with extra stakes and pali- 
 sades, so that the committee, should they change 
 their minds, might be hindered by the trouble of 
 reducing so formidable a barricade. 
 
 O, Limmer ! well may you look at yourself in the 
 glass with satisfaction, on this, the eventful morning 
 h2 
 
100 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 of the race. Well does the Oxford-blue jacket sit 
 upon you; well do the shining tops and Barclay- 
 breeches adorn your little short legs. Does the 
 complacent smile upon your countenance forebode 
 success, or is it only one of satisfaction at your 
 elaborate " get up ? " You deserve to win ; you, 
 who in a business and commercial point of view, 
 have left no stone unturned, and have risked much 
 capital on the result. We saw you in conversation 
 with members of the Jockey Club, and the gentle- 
 men riders from Paris. You knew that no accom- 
 modating ring would offer you the chance of winning 
 money, so you depreciated your equestrian talents ; 
 you spoke with modesty, and they fell into the snare. 
 We looked over your book, and saw the entries on 
 the second page, and we have been credibly informed 
 how many hundred francs Mr. Dayrell has invested 
 for you. All honour to your talents, but we cannot 
 help thinking how sadly they are misapplied. 
 
 " What a funny race course," exclaimed Miss Tre- 
 lawney to Dayrell, as, under the guardianship of 
 mamma, they drove up in their carriage. "They 
 have marked out the course with soldiers instead of 
 flags. What can they want with their guns and 
 bayonets? Not to make the horses jump better, I 
 hope." 
 
 "No, no, Miss Trelawney," replied Dayrell. "They 
 
4 
 
 WILD DATRELL. 101 
 
 are there to prevent the country people being ridden 
 over; in fact, to keep the course clear. There is 
 your friend the Prefet in the stand, in cocked hat 
 and official coat." 
 
 "Is he the judge, Mr. Dayrell? '' 
 
 " No, he only distributes the laurel crowns to the 
 happy winners. I must tell you that the promoters 
 of races in France being classical scholars, have read 
 of the Isthmian games, and imitate the Grecian 
 practice of decorating the winner with a floral tro- 
 phy — so much honour for the animal. For the 
 owner, or rider, there are a couple of bags full of 
 coin. It will add much to our amusement, if Lim- 
 mer should win, to see him carrying his bags of 
 metal to the town ; for his proverbial craftiness will 
 prevent him entrusting them to any one else, and 
 I suppose Mrs. Trelawney will not spoil sport by 
 offering him a seat in our carriage." 
 
 " I am quite ashamed of you, Mr. Dayrell ; I am 
 sure mamma will behave better than that : if she 
 does not, I shall myself ask the poor man to come 
 back with us/' 
 
 "Then I shall tell him you intend to commit a 
 petty larceny. Ah ! there is the trumpet. Act the 
 first, scene the first — two horses upon the stage, and 
 both horses belong to the same stable. You may 
 choose which you like for six pair of Pivet's gloves — 
 h3 
 
102 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 Yes — you have selected the right one — yellow jacket 
 and black cap. Now_, Mr. Yellow Jacket, do your 
 best ; you are carrying Miss Caesar and some of her 
 fortunes." 
 
 " How very stupid ! " exclaimed Emily, as Yellow 
 Jacket trotted in, a distance a-head of its opponent. 
 "If I had been the Prefet, I should have been 
 ashamed to put a collar of evergreens about that 
 animal's neck. How foolish too it looks — even the 
 Prefet is smiling. Why don^t they take the poor 
 creature to its stable, before everybody dies of 
 laughing ?'' 
 
 " If they couldn^t raise a cheer for the winner, 
 they might have hissed the loser," said DayrelL 
 "I remember, when I was an undergraduate, our 
 college started twenty-one horses in an amateur 
 race on Abingdon course. The proctors heard 
 of it, and sent an emissary to take the names 
 of the riders. * Bravo, Stunner ! Stunner wins ! ' 
 shouted the crowd, as the gentleman, rejoicing 
 in that soubriquet, went first past the post. ^ Get 
 away home, Lobbs ! Ah, ah, Lobbs ! ' they ex- 
 claimed in derision, as that unfortunate undergra- 
 duate toiled in last. The names of Stunner and 
 Lobbs were duly reported. But Stunner, the win- 
 ner, could not be traced ; — there was no person of 
 that name. Lobbs only was discovered, and rusti- 
 
. WILD DAYHELL. 103 
 
 cated for the heinous crime, the University face- 
 tiously remarked, of being last in a race." 
 
 The Gentleman's race stands next on the card. 
 There is a stir amongst the crowd in front of the 
 stand, as the horses are led round. Gentlemen rider 
 and their friends fill the weighing tent, and chatter 
 about kilogrammes as they sit down in the scales, 
 and about the fences. When the official has declared 
 them " all right," La Belle France simmers up into 
 a kind of enthusiasm, more particularly the ladies, 
 who have come to see their particular fancies ride. 
 Their faces are somewhat paler than usual, at the 
 sight of those formidable posts and rails. Made- 
 moiselle Delahay^s merry laugh — such as she in- 
 dulges in when she trips into the sea — is suddenly 
 hushed. The fate of Baron Longchamps is in the 
 balance. Perhaps, she thinks, he is taking off his 
 white coat for the last time. Mademoiselle Mille- 
 fleur regrets she ever came — only think, should her 
 wealthy fiance be brought home on a hurdle, where 
 will be her trousseau, her equipage, her opera-box 
 next season? At the same moment the object of 
 her thoughts gallops past the stand, charges the hur- 
 dles, and scarcely saves a fall by clutching the neck 
 of his astonished horse. A little shriek is heard in 
 the stand, but Monsieur Lupin recovers himself, and 
 walks to the starting post. Limmer is the only one 
 H 4 
 
104 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 who starts uncared for and unwept — a circumstance 
 somewhat in his favour, as removing all cause for 
 nervousness. 
 
 The bugle sounds. ''They're off!" exclaimed the 
 English in the stand. 
 
 " Which will you have for a dozen pair of gloves, 
 Miss Trelawney/' cried Dayrell? "England or 
 France?" 
 
 " England/' Mr. Dayrell. 
 
 " A patriotic selection, but the odds are seven to 
 one against you," he replied. 
 
 The horses started at a moderate canter. The 
 first jump was a flight of hurdles bushed with furze, 
 a rood of which Lupin's horse knocked down, and 
 the others followed through the gap. Limmer puts 
 on the steam, and clears a brace of fences without 
 accident. They are approaching the rails that 
 caused such terror to Mademoiselles Delahay and 
 Millefleur. Limmer sits down in his saddle, and 
 shakes old Casse-cou. "Bravely done! bravely 
 done V' shouted Lyatt in the stand ; and the feelings 
 of the crowd found vent in a buzz of applause, as 
 horse and rider landed safely on the right side. 
 
 " Get on — don't look back ; please don t look back, 
 and throw away the race," cried Lyatt imploringly; 
 as though the distant Limmer could hear him. 
 Limmer did not hear, but did look back, and. 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 105 
 
 doubtless, chuckled at what he saw. Flourishing 
 his whip, and muttering between his teeth " AUez, 
 villain, allez/' Lupin upset his horse, who, if left 
 alone, might have done well enough, and had a 
 stunning fall. Luckily for her, Mademoiselle did 
 not recognise the colours, till the unfortunate French- 
 man had picked himself up, and mounted his animal, 
 which had been caught by one of the soldiers. The 
 hesitating Longchamps came next. Feebly he put 
 his horse at the stiffest part of the fence ; but that 
 sagacious animal, knowing that greater pluck and 
 pace were required, stopped suddenly on the taking- 
 off side, and shot the Baron on to the green turf 
 beyond, a contretemps that, of course, made the 
 others refuse. By the time that three or four had 
 scrambled over, Limmer was a quarter of a mile 
 a-head. A little further, and he disappeared from 
 the sight of the occupants of the stand, yet hotly 
 pursued by the mare Penelope and two others. 
 Four minutes elapse and Limmer re-appears, still 
 with a commanding lead. 
 
 "He must win, I tell you; he must win,'* cries 
 Lyatt ; " it is all over, and they never can catch him." 
 Wait a minute, Sir, do you see Penelope creeping 
 up, and she has a turn of speed, and is taking the 
 smaller fences in gallant style. One field from home 
 Limmer is still leading, and Penelope drawing nigh. 
 
106 WILD DATRELL. 
 
 Over the last hurdles flies the former, flourishes his 
 whip, and sits down in his saddle for the finish. 
 "Casse-cou wins ! ^^ shout the English; '^AUez, 
 Penelope ! " shriek the Frenchmen. But the latter 
 stumbles, as she lands over the last hurdle, — she 
 comes again, but too late to prevent her rival passing 
 the chair, a winner by two good lengths. 
 
 One hat flies into the air — a peculiar hat, one 
 with a broad brim, evidently the property of an 
 elderly gentleman, who ought to know better than 
 to be so reckless. One voice is heard above all the 
 rest, — " One tousand pounds ! je le vendrai, Mons. 
 Leemare, I will sell, I will sell," and we recognise 
 the hatless head of Blossom, as he leads back his 
 horse to scale. " I will sell, I tell you," continued 
 the landlord, flourishing his arm, and the crowd fell 
 back, awed by his gesticulations, or the evident 
 desire of Casse-cou to lash out and damage a by- 
 stander. '^Oh, but he is a good beast, and worth 
 one tousand pounds," contined Blossom, patting, 
 and almost hugging, the old steeple-chaser. 
 
 '•' So he may be, man ; sell him, if you like, but 
 don't make such a fuss about it," said Limmer, as he 
 returned from the scales. 
 
 The auctioneer posted himself in the front of the 
 stand. A circle was formed, and Casse-cou led 
 round, exposed to the gaze of the multitude. The 
 
WILT) DAYKELL. 107 
 
 conditions of the sale were read, — " What price shall 
 I put upon this celebrated horse, pur sang Anglais, 
 winner of the last race? Dix mille francs?'^ asked 
 the auctioneer. "One tousand pounds," muttered 
 a voice by his side. " Cinq milk for this valuable 
 animal; a gentleman says cinq milled "He is 
 asking nothing for my horse," muttered the same 
 voice. " Six — sept — huit,'' continued the auctioneer. 
 " Allez bon homme,'' exclaimed the voice ; but the 
 bon homme would not bid more than huit mille 
 cinq cent francs, and at that figure the hammer fell. 
 A note was put into the auctioneer's hand, which 
 he read, and look perplexed. 
 
 "Is this your horse I have just sold?" enquired 
 he of Blossom, who was standing near. 
 " Qui, Monsieur'' 
 
 " Will you have the goodness to read this ? " 
 Blossom read, — " Mr. Fakenham presents his com- 
 pliments to the auctioneer, and requests him to keep 
 the amount realized by the sale of his horse, Casse- 
 cou, till he has heard further from Mr. Fakenham.'^ 
 " Je suis vole'' exclaimed Blossom. " I am robbed ! 
 Where is that perfidious English? He owes me 
 money, — he gave me the horse, — ^he would rob me 
 of my own :" and Blossom's abject state of misery 
 was piteous to behold. But suddenly recollecting 
 himself, he cried out, "Where is Mons. Leemare? 
 
108 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 He is my witness; I will bring him to prove it;" 
 and poor Blossom left tlie stand to search for Lim- 
 mer. ^Tis needless to add, without success; for, 
 disgusted with the landlord's greedy rapacity and 
 eccentric behaviour, Limmer, to avoid further scenes, 
 had left the course while the auction was going on. 
 
 And bfttimes of a summer evening, when smok- 
 ing his pipe under the gateway of his hotel, has 
 Blossom recounted to chance strangers his romantic 
 tale, and as he comes to the end, he smiteth his leg 
 vehemently with his right hand, and calls to witness 
 the disgraceful conduct of that canaille Anglaise 
 Fakenham, who paid him the amount of his bill out 
 of the proceeds of the sale, and, as an Irishman 
 w6uld say, " sarra a rap beside." 
 
 As a matter of course, after the races there was a 
 ball, this time worthy of the name. The crush, the 
 dresses, the heat — three criterions of excellence — 
 were unparalleled. The French came in a body, 
 and as it was not Sunday, the English also. Dancing 
 was almost out of the question; and chaperones, 
 once separated from their charges, might look for 
 them in vain. For once the scandal-collectors were 
 at fault, as the crowd limited the area of their obser- 
 vation. Even Belle-garde, had he been present, 
 might have bent the knee for the first time, and 
 escaped the notice of all but his nearest neighbours. 
 
WILD DAYEELL. 109 
 
 It is high change with Mademoiselle Galette — ^lemon- 
 ades, ices, cakes, all quickly disappear. The frequent 
 pop of champagne corks bear witness to an unpa- 
 ralleled consumption. She 11 win, not her spurs, but 
 her cherry ribbons, and we shall see her, decore with 
 that harmless finery, on her way to St. Jaques next 
 Sunday morning. 
 
 " Will you take me to mamma ? I should like to 
 go home. No, I am not ill; it is only the heat — 
 and — and — I feel very tired after the races; and, 
 Mr. Dayrell, please, find mamma, I cannot stay in 
 this room any longer." 
 
 "I want to go home, mamma dear," continued 
 Emily ; " Mr. Dayrell was kind enough to find you 
 in the crowd, and, I am sure, will excuse me for 
 leaving so early." 
 
 "If I may only have the pleasure of seeing you 
 quite recovered to-morrow," he answered. 
 
 " But you must not escort us home to-night ; the 
 servant is here with a light," said Emily. " Mamma 
 will see you to-morrow, and perhaps I may be at the 
 station before you leave for Paris. — Go back to the 
 ball room, Mr. Dayrell; you will, I know, if I 
 wish it." 
 
 Dayrell stood as one entranced on the steps, 
 watched them until they turned the corner, and 
 then re-entered the ball-room. No wonder he was 
 
110 WILD DATRELL. 
 
 restless and uncomfortable, roaming amongst the 
 dancers without a fixed purpose, and not even making 
 an attempt to engage one of the " talents " in the 
 waltzing line. While the quadrille — the most crowded 
 one of the evening — was going on, he had proposed 
 to Emily, not in the sentimental high-flown language 
 of the modern novelist, but simply asking the ques- 
 tion " Will you ?" To which the reply might have 
 been equally short and explicit, had the scene not 
 been in the second tier of benches in the ball- 
 room, where dowager ladies were within earshot, 
 and their eyesight confined to their own immediate 
 neighbourhood. But there happened to be a French 
 lady on the bench above them, whom nobody asked 
 to dance, and whose dress nobody admired, and to 
 whom scarcely any one spoke, although she ofttimes 
 rattled her sandal-wood fan, and attempted to attract 
 to herself one of the passers-by. Her eye lighted on 
 Emily and Dayrell, and though ignorant of the 
 English language, she instinctively guessed the sub- 
 ject of their conversation. Emily started on finding 
 that sinister look directed towards her ; she felt that 
 her secret was in another's keeping, — in the keeping 
 of one who had envy and malevolence written in her 
 face ; so she rose hastily, asked to be taken to her 
 mother, and left Dayrell without giving him a de- 
 finite answer. 
 
WILD DAYRELL. Ill 
 
 " I cannot stand this any longer/' said Dayrell to 
 himself, after three or four rounds of the ball-room, 
 during which he came in contact with half-a-dozen 
 couples starting in a waltz, and was set down at once 
 by the French as a rude, unpolite Anglais. " I will 
 leave Dieppe to-morrow ; but I will do one good act 
 first — take Limmer, if possible, from the ecarte-table. 
 I wish it could be for ever/' 
 
 There is a great crowd in the card-room. The 
 habitues are lost in the vast influx of fresh faces. 
 Strangers range themselves on both sides of the 
 table, and invest notes and gold in place of the 
 accustomed five-franc pieces. Descartes no longer 
 sleeps, or mechanically puts down the names of the 
 players. His eye is on the notes, and gloats over 
 the pile of gold on either side of him. " Erreurs^* 
 to-night are of no account. The winners settle them 
 without a murmur. Time is precious, the loss of a 
 few francs a trifle to the winners of hundreds. A 
 dead silence prevails as Dayrell enters the room. 
 Limmer holds the cards that are to decide whether 
 he passes for the sixth time. There is the old smile 
 of confidence on his face, such as he wore when 
 making the last stroke and winning a hundred 
 pounds in his match with Carambole, or when he 
 cleared the Aylesbury brook on the redoubtable 
 Nimrod. " Quatre 2i" is all the anxious spectators 
 
112 WILD DATRELL. 
 
 can exclaim, and draw a long breath while Limmer 
 shuflles the pack for the last deal. 
 
 " Trois a vous," says Limmer. " Trois a moi ; 
 deux a vous; deux a moi; et, monsieur, je vous 
 salue. Le roi/' 
 
 Limmer has won again. He carries all before him 
 to-night, and pursues his triumphant way. Are you, 
 Dayrell, going to warn him when in the heyday of 
 luck and good fortune ? What folly, what presump- 
 tion for you to think that a gambler when winning 
 will do aught but laugh at your advice. If in a vein 
 of ill-luck, he might listen, he might be decoyed from 
 the table, though oft-times then the tempter would 
 whisper, " Remember your success last year : this 
 bad luck must change some day." No greater curse 
 can befall a young man than to win. Better to lose 
 half a fortune, while youth sits hghtly on the brow : 
 better to receive some hard knocks on a race-course 
 before sitting down to the hard business of life, than 
 be induced by a transient gleam of sunshine to 
 gamble on, until, sinking deeper and deeper in the 
 mire, he falls into that abyss whence there is no 
 recovery — no resurrection. 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 113 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Once more on the wide world — cut off again from 
 the civilizing influences of a domestic circle — in an 
 express train moving at the moderate rate of twenty- 
 five miles an hour, sits, must it be owned, the 
 miserable, disconsolate Dayrell. 
 
 Why so miserable? — with the pace for France 
 considerably above par, with soft, luxurious cushions 
 to loll in, with warm bottles for the feet, with per- 
 mission to smoke granted by the one other passenger 
 in the carriage. As times go, such travelling is not to 
 be despised. Compare it with a trip in a yellow- 
 panelled diligence fifteen years ago. In very truth 
 that was a weary, dreary voyage. The dusty roads, 
 the jolting pavement, the walks up hill and the 
 " shoots " down inclines, the delays while postilions 
 tinkered the rope harness, the crowds of loathsome 
 beggars at the relays, the interminable lines of 
 poplars, and the cramped position even in the coupe ; 
 the infamous dinner at Abbeville, and the still worse 
 breakfast at Beauvais, and the arrival at the Porte 
 
114 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 St. Denis, tired, bilious, with a fearful headache, 
 thirty hours after leaving the inhospitable Calais. 
 Compare that with the rapid, comfortable railway, 
 with no stoppage between Calais and your hotel in 
 Paris but what the octroi choose to impose. What 
 if the latter do want to look into your portmanteau 
 for a defunct rabbit or a slimy John Dory ? They 
 will only keep you a minute. Let us be thankful for 
 being let off so easily. 
 
 But Dayrell had been spoilt in the last month. 
 He had tasted the sweets of domestic life. The con- 
 trast came too suddenly, and at an inopportune mo- 
 ment. So his fellow-traveller — a commis-voyageur 
 — receiving but curt replies to his questions, slunk 
 back into his corner, and endured the torture (to a 
 Frenchman) of a prolonged silence. Doubtless, when 
 he joined the circle of admiring comrades at the cafe 
 that evening, he told a terrible story about ces betes 
 Anglaises; and, perhaps, concocted an artful tale 
 about the scene he witnessed at the Dieppe station, 
 of which he made himself the hero, and a heroine of 
 the pretty English girl kissing her hand to him ! 
 When does a Frenchman not believe himself the 
 centre of attraction to woman's eyes ? 
 
 " Hotel des Juifs," said Dayrell to the driver of a 
 Parisian cab ; and as that model conveyance rattled 
 over the pavement, by the lines of tall, gloomy 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 115 
 
 houses, his thoughts reverted to Splice and his 
 reasons for visiting Paris. 
 
 Lyatt must have made some mistake. He never 
 could have meant me to come to such a gloomy place 
 as this. Is it the Hotel des Juifs ? Yes, there is the 
 name, and here the porter. " Hallo ! Sir," he ex- 
 claimed to that aged Israelite, as he sulkily emerged 
 from his den, '^what is the fare from the station 
 here ?" 
 
 " Quarante sous/' was the reply, with a strong em- 
 phasis on the last two syllables, and the old man fell 
 upon Dayrell's luggage, and bundled it within the 
 gates, which he carefully closed on the new prisoner. 
 
 The bell was answered by a Hebrew maiden, whom 
 some might called ill-favoured, and every one vote 
 unclean. From the rack on the wall, she selected 
 one of the 160 keys. " AUons," she said to Dayrell, 
 and led him across a dreary courtyard, where no life 
 was seen, save when a slipshod waiter, with the 
 strongly marked features of the despised race, flitted 
 from one side to the other, through a gloomy quad- 
 rangle of curtained windows, suggestive of robbery, 
 if not the murder, of the last tenants — up the old oak 
 staircase, and along an echoing corridor, till she came 
 to No. 65. Then the key turned gratingly in the 
 lock, the door opened, and an odour of '^ unoccupa- 
 tion" saluted the nose of the visitor. 
 i2 
 
116 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 ^^ Le voilttj' said the maiden, showing Dayrell his 
 room, and unprepared for the assault he ma^e on the 
 windows, so as to bring a little air and light on the 
 bed in the recess, the gorgeous, but fly-blown, mirror, 
 the cold marble-topped table, and the pie dish for 
 washing, execrated by tourists, and every man who 
 has ever put pen to paper. 
 
 " Is there any one in the hotel ?'^ he asked, seating 
 himself at tlie same time on his portmanteau. " The 
 rooms look empty on both sides of the courtyard." 
 
 " There is scarcely anybody," said the girl. 
 
 *^ Where 's the landlord?" 
 
 '' In the country." 
 
 " Is there a table d'hote V 
 
 "No; but you can have some dinner." 
 
 *' Can I have a bath? Here, I mean.'' 
 
 " Monsieur !" ejaculated the maid. Her mouth 
 opened, and she stood aghast at the idea of her 
 polished floor being soiled. But suddenly changing 
 her mind, she thought there was one down stairs that 
 would suit Monsieur. For an instant she disappears, 
 and returns, bearing in triumph a tin vessel, twelve 
 inches in depth and twenty-eight in circumference. 
 
 " Is that what you call a bath ?" asked Dayrell, in 
 disgust. "Take it away. But stay; you may as 
 well tell the people of the house that I don't dine 
 here to-day ;" and he descended the staircase with the 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 117 
 
 comfortable Cafe Anglais in his mind's eye, and wish- 
 ing every thing but long life to the present dynasty 
 of the Hotel des Juifs. 
 
 To the gain of the Bordelais (there was a great 
 vintage that year), and the detriment of fair com- 
 plexions, the heat during that summer was more than 
 usually oppressive. In Paris, the glare of the Boule- 
 vards made the eyes ache; the asphalte pavement 
 melted, and waved under foot ; the leaves in the 
 Champs Elysees changed colour before their time ; 
 and even the maize in the country became sickly from 
 the continued drought. Paris — i. e., monied Paris — 
 every one who could scrape a few francs together 
 — had retired auo! eaux. Shopkeeping, mendicant 
 Paris, with a few visitors, had it to themselves. Jean 
 Racine, of the cropped head and obese figure, who is 
 serenely smoking in front of his shop ; Baptiste, aini^ 
 who is wrangling over dominoes, and gathering in- 
 spiration from eau sucre (O, printer, beware lest 
 thou change a vowel of the French adjective) ; and 
 Adolphe, who spends five hours at his cafe for one in 
 shaving chins, would have all departed, had the god 
 of trade been kind. Passing these philosophers of 
 the Italian Boulevards, our hero strolled into the 
 Cafe Anglais. 
 
 The proprietor of these whilom comfortable quarters 
 is also taking advantage of the dead season. Painters 
 
 i3 
 
118 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 ply their brushes on the outside of the edifice ; the 
 oily perfume sneaks through the folding doors. But 
 half the tables in the dining-rooms are covered with 
 the snow« white linen; pyramidically- shaped serviettes^ 
 and cool-looking water bottles, attract no guests. 
 The waiter, who has not leave of absence, sleeps, with 
 his head on a table, and dreams of Mabille, or perhaps 
 a square-shouldered sabotted paysanne, far away in 
 a snug valley of the Cotes d^Or. But he awakes at 
 the oft-heard summons of Garqon, He hurries with his 
 carte. His " bieriy Monsieur,'' follows each selection 
 of a dish ; and he quite respects Dayrell for doing 
 something different to his countrymen, i. e,, ordering 
 three French dishes in the place of the conventional 
 bifstek aux pommes ; while Jeanette at the buffet, 
 astonished at the unwonted order, lays aside her 
 crotchet, and produces a bottle of Chambertin. 
 
 "Monsieur is a stranger in Paris," begins the 
 waiter, with all the volubility of his clan, on receiving 
 some encouragement to converse. " He will find it 
 very triste — everybody is absent — the operas are 
 closed — and the cafes-chantants are vilains ; — but the 
 Cirque Imperiale — Monsieur has never been? ah! 
 never seen Mademoiselle Caracole ride twelve horses, 
 jump through twelve hoops, and fall again hght as a 
 souffle on their backs. Oh, but Mademoiselle is 
 wonderful ! " And he threw up his hands, twisted 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 119 
 
 his mouth into strange shapes,, and indulged in ges- 
 tures indicative of intense admiration of that talented 
 lady. Luckily for him, we might imagine, that Marie 
 of the Cotes d'Or is out of hearing. 
 
 So Dayrell finished his Burgundy, lit his cigarette, 
 and went to see this equestrian phenomenon. There 
 was no difficulty ahout a seat, most of the benches 
 were tenantless. He selected one near the arena, 
 and looking round, watched the arrivals with the 
 critical gaze of an English occupant of a stall. 
 
 Three officers, in lancer uniform and extravagantly 
 bandolined as to their moustaches, four bright-eyed 
 wives of well-to-do bourgeois, one gens-d'arme on his 
 own account, and another on that of the govern- 
 ment, with as much business on hand as a Belgrave 
 Square policeman in September, arrived. Next, a 
 female figure delicately descended the steps; it 
 hovered for a moment, uncertain where to place itself 
 (here the gens-d'arme on duty winked to his comrade), 
 and finally dropped into a seat near Dayrell. Like a 
 partridge, when it has fled from a sportsman and 
 alighted close to an enemy armed also with a gun, it 
 started and cowered in its timidity as it recognised 
 him. But shortly recovering itself, it carefully ad- 
 justed its crinoline, and, by its movements, invited him 
 to a conference. It was Miss Sandes' maid, or body- 
 guard, and of course she recognised Dayrell. Often, 
 
 i4 
 
120 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 at Dieppe^ had she dropped in to tea with her fellow- 
 servant at Mrs. Trelawney'Sj and discussed, with true 
 spinsterian fervour, the wedding that was to be ; the 
 more so as she herself, although of unprepossessing 
 appearance, was embarked on a like speculation, and 
 did not despair of bringing to book one " James," 
 confidential valet to a baronet, and expected by her 
 this evening at the Cirque. 
 
 *' I hope Miss Sandes is well," said Dayrell, luckily 
 recollecting the lady's-maid's face, and unhesitatingly 
 jumping into the breach. 
 
 " Very well, Sir ; that is to say, pretty well," an- 
 swered the abigail, not knowing how far she might 
 unburthen herself to a friend of the family. 
 
 " And Mr. Splice ; have you seen him lately ? " 
 he asked, with well-feigned unconcern. 
 
 She looked at him searchingly for an instant. He 
 did not wince. She banished all reserve, and told 
 her piteous tale, beginning with the failure of the 
 Dieppe scheme ^' of which master had heard, and 
 was owdacious angry," down to their arrival at Paris. 
 ^^ And you can't imagine, Sir," she added, "how my 
 poor dear missus do take on ; it makes me quite un- 
 happy to see her, it does." 
 
 "You would do anything for your mistress?'' he 
 asked. 
 
 " Anything, Sir." 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 121 
 
 '^ And you are not afraid of your master ? " 
 
 " Me, Sir ? O no, Sir ; I hate him ; he is a mon- 
 ster. He never lets my poor dear missus go out. He 
 has nothing but bad words for her and me. I'll give 
 up my place soon, if he goes on so much longer.^^ 
 
 "Perhaps I can help you, I shall be at Mr* 
 Sandes' to-morrow, or the next day; call on me the 
 same evening at the Hotel des Juifs, and I shall have 
 something to tell you." Here he dropped a piece of 
 gold into her hand, in nowise reluctant to receive it. 
 " Remember, not a word to anybody, unless you wish 
 to hurt your mistress and yourself." 
 
 By this time the three mountebanks, rejoicing in 
 the names of Achille, Hercule, and Samson, re- 
 spectively, had mounted on each other^s backs, and, 
 in the form of a perambulating pillar, had dis- 
 appeared through the curtain. Our abigail, too, 
 waxed uncomfortable lest " James " should find her 
 conversing with a stranger, so she turned uneasily 
 in her seat, and glanced at the door, as a sign to 
 Dayrell that the conference should be at an end. He 
 dropped into his former seat just as the popular idol. 
 Mademoiselle Caracole, glided into the sanded arena, 
 and treated her enthusiastic admirers to a curtsey 
 and a smile. 
 
 But Mademoiselle, though in her gauze and wings 
 supposed to represent an angel, is, after all, but 
 
123 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 mortal. Naturally good-looking, she must borrow 
 something for stage effect. There is the rouge upon 
 her cheek and the puff-powder upon her brow, of 
 which the departing daylight is an unfavourable ex- 
 ponent. And although with lightsome foot she 
 dances to a wild Hungarian melody on the back of her 
 piebald, though she jumps through the twelve hoops 
 with astonishing accuracy, the heat tells upon her 
 borrowed colours, and gives her a sad, jaded air as she 
 sinks exhausted into her saddle. But the Faubourgs 
 are pleased. Hands are clapped, and an encore de- 
 manded, the latter followed by a shower of bouquets 
 — a signal to the poor old piebald to stop and nibble 
 at the nearest, till, detected by the " master of the 
 whip," he receives a notice to be more careful for 
 future. 
 
 " Good night," said Dayrell, softly, as he passed 
 the lady's-maid, now deep in conversation with 
 James of " the loving *art," as that confidential valet 
 described himself. " Mine, Mary Ann, is a loving 
 'art," he whispered, and skilfully wormed himself 
 into her affections. It was not till her assets at the 
 savings' bank were found to be small that the heart 
 forgot its affectionate character and clung to another 
 — ^behaving shamefully to our abigail — a record en- 
 dorsed by many Marys and Susans in an English 
 servants* hall assembled. 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 123 
 
 On leaving the Cirque, Dayrell returned to his 
 hotel. In deep thought he paced up and down his 
 room, occasionally stopping at the open window, but 
 oftener opposite four queer daubs upon the walls. 
 Their subject matter seemed to fascinate him. Pic- 
 ture I., scene 1 : Genevievre, happy child, distributes 
 spare half-pence amongst the poor ; castle in the dis- 
 tance; peasants in the foreground, clad in green, 
 yellow, and red night-shirts, holding out their hands 
 and begging. Picture II., scene 2, is the same 
 maiden bivouacking in the forest, tended by stags 
 and other wild animals. Subaudito, stern father has 
 told miserable G. to marry a bearded marquis she 
 does not like — hence her escape from the paternal 
 mansion. Picture III., scene 3, is G. discovered by 
 her true love, when hunting, after his return from 
 India with boxes of sovereigns. Picture IV., scene 
 4 : Happy marriage of G., and intense delight of the 
 parties in red, yellow, and green night-shirts ; papa 
 relents, and points to the castle in the distance, evi- 
 dently meaning to give it as a dower to the injured 
 Gene vie vre. 
 
 " Good omen for Splice,^^ said Dayrell, chuckling 
 over the moral of the painter. " Spite of papa, he 
 shall marry his Genevievre. As to his bringing the 
 boxes of sovereigns, like that baron in the picture, I 
 doubt it much. Uncles are kind sometimes, but 
 
124 WILD DAYKELL. 
 
 would sooner promise a reversion than part with 
 R.M.D. — ready money down. To-morrow, however, 
 I shall know all." And he went to bed with many 
 plans and schemes revolving in his brain. 
 
 ^' Senior partner at Vichy — ^junior at Eaux Bonnes 
 — head clerk out," answered the boy, left in charge 
 of Messieurs Viguerie's well known firm, in the Rue 
 St. Honore, to our hero's enquiry. 
 
 " Is there a letter for me ? Dayrell, Anglais. You 
 understand." But the youth would not, or did not 
 understand ; and Dayrell left the house, fully im- 
 pressed with the worthless character of French gen- 
 tlemen of commerce, to spend an hour of idleness till 
 the clerk might return. " Call them men of busi- 
 ness," muttered he, ^^ and not to be found at this 
 
 time of day. Why, in England ." Well, Mr. 
 
 Dayrell, and what would you find in your model 
 father-land ? Not Mr. Lappin and Mr. Toole in 
 their respective emporiums at the end of August. I 
 rather expect that the former is leaving his card on 
 Monsieur Mocquard at the Tuileries, and the latter at 
 Winslow, is looking over his stud, and settling what 
 horses he shall keep, and what he shall dispose of 
 before the hunting season begins. So do the "Johns" 
 of French extraction leave their desks and counting- 
 houses, and flit where mineral waters bubble, and 
 
WILD DATEELL. 125 
 
 where the provincial " Place" collects a crowd of 
 jabbering, cofFee-drinking, holiday-makers. 
 
 " Here they are at last/' said Dayrell, an honr later^, 
 as he tore open a packet the head clerk gave him. 
 " Here is a letter in an elderly gentleman's hand for 
 Mr. Sandes. I understand. Splice and his uncle 
 mean business. Here is my letter. Now for par- 
 ticulars, and a convenient bench.'' 
 
 " Cool hand, Splice — remarkably cool," he mut- 
 tered, on coming to the " Yours for ever, sincerely," 
 of the letter. " So, I am to be his ambassador. 
 Why not come himself? He tells me his uncle re- 
 ceived the news very kindly — all the more reason for 
 him to throw himself at the feet of the obdurate 
 parent to confess and be forgiven. And I am to 
 telegraph the result. By Jove, he will be on tenter 
 hooks until that arrives. Well, I '11 do as he wishes 
 — beard the lion in his den. It may be great fun 
 after all." And Dayrell, letter in hand, went to 
 Mr. Sandes' house in the Rue Vivienne. 
 
 He was shown into a room. Splice's beloved had 
 but just left it. Her workbox was open on the table. 
 " I wonder," thought he to himself, '' if there is a 
 lock of hair inside. Splice's * hay,' as it was ignp- 
 miniously called at school, would look funny with a 
 piece of blue ribbon round it. I should like to see." 
 
126 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 But the search was frustrated by Mr. Sandes, who 
 entered the room, looking quite the reverse of the 
 affable, agreeable English gentleman. 
 
 "May I know the object of this visit/' asked the 
 elder, repelling any advances, and neither offering 
 his visitor a chair, or taking one himself. 
 
 " A letter, Mr. Sandes, that I was to deliver into 
 your hands, and ask you to read. I would not in- 
 trude, only I was to be sure that you received it.^' 
 
 Sandes looked at the writing suspiciously. " Has 
 it anything to do with Mr. Splice ?" he asked. 
 
 " You had better read it," replied Dayrell, taking 
 a position near the mantelpiece, his attention being 
 equally divided between the contemplation of his hat 
 and Mr. Sandes perusing this missive from Splice's 
 uncle. 
 
 " You know the contents of this," said the elder, 
 carefully folding the epistle. 
 
 " By Jove, I don't; the seal was not broken, was it?" 
 
 " No trifling with me. Sir," answered Sandes. " I 
 ask you, if you know the object — contents, if you 
 like — of this* letter? Further, I wish to know, if 
 you and Mr. Splice intend to continue this persecu- 
 tion of my daughter and myself? For, I'll put a 
 stop to it, mark my word, if I do not. I '11 have no 
 more of your Dieppe scheme and plot — yes, Sir, 
 your plot. You need not trouble yourself to deny it." 
 
WILD DAYHELL. 127 
 
 " Mr. Sandes, listen to me for an instant ; I will 
 speak/' And he commenced an oration, the remem- 
 brance of which caused him many a laugh in after days. 
 " I don't wish to deny anything. I will confess as much 
 as you like — confess that Splice is foolish — yourself 
 in the wrong" ("Thank you for nothing/' from 
 Mr. S.), "and myself foolish; oh! horribly foolish. 
 This was, as you justly observe, my plot ; it was my 
 intention to make two people happy ; it was my idea 
 to bring the couple back to a certain parent, and ask 
 his forgiveness. Blame my exuberance of spirits and 
 inventive brain; but do not give Splice credit for 
 taking the initiative in a plot ; his talents, Sir, I as- 
 sure you, are of a different order. He is the good 
 fellow of social life, the man to be appreciated in the 
 domestic circle. As to his morals, they must be 
 good. Since he was introduced to your daughter, I 
 know he smokes less every day by two cigars. Then, 
 he is no bad match — good looking,, has some money 
 (Oh, fie, Dayrell), has also an uncle, a bond fide uncle, 
 with slate quarries, a saving disposition, and the ripe 
 old age of 74. Let me make it up between you both. 
 Let " — here he waved his hand in the air, — " the tele- 
 graph carry the olive branch " 
 
 But further confusion of metaphor was avoided by 
 the hasty interposition of Mr. Sandes. 
 
 " Confound your impudence ; if you have nothing 
 
128 WILD DATRELL. 
 
 further to say^ you may leave this room ! You come 
 here to talk about ^making it up' and *^ olive 
 branches;' I'll olive branch you, — 1^11 — I'll horse- 
 whip you, Sir ! " 
 
 "Have a care, elderly gentleman; don't, please, 
 lose your temper," said Dayrell, laughing in spite of 
 himself, but at the same time moving towards the 
 door. " Don't put yourself into fighting position ; 
 youth must win if it comes to blows. — Good morn- 
 ing, Mr. Sandes — poor Mr. Sandes. To our next 
 meeting, which I have a melancholy foreboding will 
 be a second Philippi/' 
 
 " Show him out — I mean, turn him out," said the 
 frantic old gentleman, as Dayrell emerged on the 
 landing. 
 
 "Don't trouble yourself," returned the other; 
 adding in a louder key, for the benefit of a young 
 lady whose crinoline had just disappeared round the 
 corner, — " Send to the Hotel des Juifs if you want 
 me ; this evening, if you like : " but any answer Mr. 
 Sandes may have given was lost upon Dayrell, who 
 had descended the staircase and gained the street. 
 
 " A nice kettle of fish,^' said Dayrell to himself, as 
 he puffed his after-dinner cigar in the ante-room of 
 the hotel. " I\e done my best, however, telegraphed 
 for Splice and his special license. This is his last 
 chance ; the wedding may come off in spite of that 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 129 
 
 rusty old governor. He is a good plucked one, never- 
 theless. Wanted to horsewhip me, eh ! and I am 
 not a baby. I wish he had tried. I wonder what 
 Emily will think of this. Like it immensely, I'll 
 be bound. Women like an emeute got up for the 
 ultimate benefit of one of their sex." 
 
 " A lady vrishes to speak to you. Monsieur Anglais," 
 said a grinning waiter. " Shall I show her in ? " 
 
 "Yes, directly," answered Dayrell, throwing his 
 cigar into the grate. " The plot thickens,^' thought 
 he to himself. 
 
 The waiter placed a chair for the new arrival, 
 withdrew for a moment, and returned with Miss 
 Sandes* servant, mysteriously disguised in a thick 
 veil and cloak. He officiously offered his services as 
 lady's-maid, but, on being rebuked by Dayrell, re- 
 luctantly glided out of the room. 
 
 "Now that impudent man is gone, let me hear 
 what you have to say. You are not ill?'' he added, 
 as the abigail lifted her veil, and disclosed a pale and 
 sallow face. " Let me order some lemonade gazeuse, 
 or some coffee ; or would you like anything else ? I 
 suppose we can get what we want in the hotel?'' 
 
 " Nothing, thank you. Sir," she answered ; " I 
 cannot stay long. I only came to tell you about my 
 poor mistress, who is in such a way, and so unhappy 
 about you, and your visit to her papa. He has been 
 
 K 
 
130 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 SO unkind to her, and was so rude to her at dinner, 
 that she came crying to her room, and told me to 
 come here and ask you to leave Paris. And you are 
 to tell Mr. Splice not to think of her any more, and 
 that she would rather he did not come to see her; 
 and oh ! Mr. Dayrell, she cried, poor thing, as 
 though her heart would break.^^ 
 
 '^ She won't do so any more, when she hears Mr. 
 Splice is here," he said. *^ Listen to me ; you must 
 cheer your mistress. Tell her that better times are 
 coming; and, remember, the when depends upon 
 
 you.- 
 
 " Upon me !" 
 
 " Yes, you." 
 
 '' TeU me how." 
 
 "You are fond of your mistress, are you not? 
 You would do anything for her?" 
 
 " Yes, Sir." 
 
 " You can't bear your master, and you said the 
 other night you would be glad to return to England. 
 Somebody else is going back there. Ah ! well, you 
 need not blush. Now wiU you go to England with 
 your mistress ?" 
 
 "Alone?" 
 
 " No, with Mr. and Mrs. Splice. It all depends 
 on you, whether he marries her before the end of 
 the week. You must see your mistress this evening ; 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 131 
 
 you must cautiously break my plan to her ; persuade 
 her to run away with him, and tell me to-morrow 
 the result of your conference. Leave the rest to 
 me; this time there is no chance of failure." And 
 Dayrell straightway unfolded his plans, which, after 
 a long lesson, the lady's-maid learnt by heart, and 
 agreed to do her best. ^' You had better return home 
 now; and remember, you will not be forgotten," 
 said Dayrell, significantly touching his pocket. 
 
 So the servant departed on her errand, thought- 
 fully, as became the guardian of a great secret, but 
 with a mind more at ease than when introduced into 
 that room. 
 
 " Awful night this. Stretcher ; just the one for a 
 runaway match. Jingle was not more befriended by 
 the weather in his evening excursion with the spinster 
 aunt, eh! There's a gust of wind! How the old 
 casement rattles," said Dayrell, as he peered into 
 the outer darkness, rendered more visible by the 
 flickering lamps, while the person addressed, a clergy- 
 man and old Oxford friend, looked first at his watch, 
 and then at his thin boots, with a melancholy pre- 
 sentiment of a wet walk home. " Does it not seem 
 like a dream ?" continued Dayrell. " Only four days 
 back I telegraphed to Splice. In the interval he 
 has, he tells me, drained poor Cox to the uttermost 
 farthing, bought his license, come to Paris, and is at 
 k2 
 
132 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 this moment awaiting 'the veiled female form' of 
 Miss Clara in the Rue Vivienne. Give me some 
 credit, my jolly parson; haven't I arranged it well? 
 SandeSj I was told, went every evening to some club. 
 Mademoiselle and her maid are to take advantage of 
 his absence to-night, slip into a cab that Splice has 
 ready, and drive here. I have a travelling carriage 
 engaged. In it they are to drive to the first station on 
 the Northern Railroad; the six o'clock train will 
 pick them up, — at which time may Sandes, the 
 governor, still repose unconscious." 
 
 "What will you do?" asked Stretcher. 
 
 "That is the question. Methinks, retire with a 
 brisk and airy step. I cannot visit that irascible old 
 gentleman again ; still I have a presentiment that we 
 two must meet once more." 
 
 " Are you quite sure,'* asked the divine, " that this 
 marriage is legal ? Ought they not to be married at 
 the Hotel de Ville, and sign the papers in the pre- 
 sence of the Mayor ?" 
 
 " Not if they have a special license ; I have asked 
 about that." 
 
 " I have my doubts," said Stretcher ; " but that is 
 not our afi'air. But what 's that V he exclaimed, as 
 the rumbling of wheels in the court-yard was heard, 
 and Dayrell disappeared down the staircase two steps 
 at a time to reconnoitre. 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 133 
 
 " Only tlie travelling carriage come too soon. I 
 have spoken to and tipped the jack-booted postillion, 
 a politic measure such a night as this. I hope the 
 runaways will soon be here. She cannot have de- 
 clined at the last moment." 
 
 " Here, Stretcher/^ he continued, " bear a hand. 
 Let us make this room look more like a bridal cham- 
 ber. You used to have good taste; your rooms at 
 Oxford were admirably furnished. They only wanted 
 a Eosa Bonheur or two, in the place of those Fare- 
 brothers and Ceritos, to have made them the gem of 
 our * quad.' Let's first make the place a little less 
 gloomy. Where shall I put the candles ? — the paper 
 won't light up. Move that sofa, and put the easy 
 chair on this side, convenient for the bride to drop 
 into should she wish to faint. There, that's better. 
 Now for our visitors.^^ 
 
 An anxious quarter of an hour elapsed, during 
 which Stretcher looked alternately at his watch and 
 his companion, who paced the room uneasily, in fear 
 lest his plot had miscarried. Presently there was a 
 stir on the staircase; the door opened, and Splice 
 rushed in. ''They will be here directly," he said, 
 shaking both their hands at the same moment. " It 
 is all right.'' An announcement followed by the en- 
 trance of two females, so lavishly veiled, as to make 
 it difficult to distinguish mistress from maid. 
 k3 
 
134 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 To prevent Miss Sandes feeling the awkwardness 
 of a sudden introduction to strangers, Dayrell, in his 
 capacity of master of the ceremonies, marshalled 
 bride and bridegroom into their places, and handed 
 the book to Stretcher as a hint for him to commence 
 the service. 
 
 Bravely did little Clara perform her part; her 
 conduct on this occasion deserves a passing word. 
 Barely twenty years of age — just escaped from her 
 father's roof — in a foreign city — with none of her 
 sex about her, with the exception of her maid — she 
 stood at the table, and unhesitatingly responded, " I 
 will.*' No emotion was visible in that pale face. No 
 sign of timidity in that compressed lip ; her mind 
 once made up she took the final plunge, without, so 
 to speak, a shiver on the bank. No use now for the 
 father to forbid the banns ; the irrevocable words, 
 "let no man put asunder," have gone forth. And 
 Splice, you are a lucky man ; with that little heroine 
 by your side you may go bravely through the world. 
 Little did you think, the evening you met a shy timid 
 girl at the Leamington ball, of the pluck and courage 
 that lay concealed in the bosom of the embryo Mrs. 
 Splice. 
 
 The service ended, there was but little time for 
 congratulation. 
 
 " Cut it short, old boy," said Dayrell, as Splice pro- 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 135 
 
 fasely poured forth his thanks. "One glass of cham- 
 pagne all round, and you must go. By Jove, if that 
 isn't the governor !" he exclaimed, as a well-known 
 voice was heard on the stairs. '^Lock the door. 
 Stretcher — take your wife, Splice, through these 
 folding doors, cross the tahle d'hdte room — mind the 
 chairs in the dark — you'll find a staircase — and get 
 away as quick as you can. I haven't a slipper, or I 
 would, even now, throw it after you both. I '11 en- 
 tertain the gentleman till you are out of Paris ; 
 leave him to me. Good-bye." 
 
 " Open this, or I'll break it down," exclaimed the 
 angry voice outside, and at the same time certain 
 knuckles descended on the panels with alarming 
 violence. 
 
 « Hallo ! " exclaimed Dayrell. '' Who's there ? " 
 
 " It's me. Sir. I will come in. By heavens — " 
 and other thumps descending on the unfortunate 
 woodwork, drowned the rest of his speech. 
 
 "You are a nice sort of person," said Dayrell, 
 opening the door, ^^ to come and interrupt a gentle- 
 man's repose at this time of night." 
 
 "Where's my daughter? " gasped the other. "I 
 have traced her here ; the porter saw her come in. 
 No prevarication. Sir ; answer that question. I will 
 find her." 
 
 " Will you," said Dayrell, as his quick ear caught 
 K 4 
 
136 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 the sound of departing wheels. " Pray search the 
 cupboards, look under the sofa. You might find her 
 under the table/' he added, seeing his visitor glance 
 at that light piece of furniture. 
 
 " You may talk,^^ said Sandes ; *' but only let me 
 find him— your friend — that villain, Splice." 
 
 " You are a nice specimen of the Christian parent," 
 began Dayrell, rightly supposing that the happy pair 
 were by this time out of the house. " Do you know, 
 Sir, what you are saying? Do you know that Mr. 
 Splice is your son-in-law, and would you take his 
 life ? Yes, they are married, and far enough away by 
 this time. Run down to Bordeaux, you might catch 
 them ; but let me tell you one thing, you are too 
 late to prevent the marriage ;" and he snapped his 
 fingers at Sandes. 
 
 " Be quiet," said Stretcher to Dayrell, and, turn- 
 ing to Sandes, attempted to soothe him. " Stop a 
 minute," he began, " and I will tell you everything. 
 Mr. Dayrell has told you the truth; they are married, 
 and out of your reach. It is no use being in a pas- 
 sion ; what is done, cannot be altered." 
 
 "Who are you?" furiously interposed Sandes. 
 "Are you in this plot too? I'll make short work 
 of this. I'll call in the police." 
 
 "Who will turn you out of this hotel, and, per- 
 haps, lock you up as a disorderly chai'acter," an- 
 
WILD DAYKELL. 137 
 
 swered Dayrell. "No wonder you are in a rage, 
 you who wanted your daughter to remain unmarried 
 and keep the money yourself. Splice will have it, 
 and he is a good fellow — much too good to be your 
 son-in-law." 
 
 " I '11 prosecute you both/' exclaimed Sandes. "If 
 there be any justice in England, I will have you up 
 for — for—a libel ; " and, seeing Dayrell laugh at such 
 a notion, added, " You may laugh. Sir, now, but you 
 won't when we meet again." 
 
 " At Philippi ?" asked Dayrell ; but Sandes did not 
 hear him. He only closed the door with a noise that 
 electrified the domestics who clustered on the land- 
 ing, and went down-stairs breathing vengeance. 
 
 " You have put him on the wrong scent," remarked 
 Stretcher. " I hope he will start for Bordeaux by 
 the early train, and not for Calais. If he went to 
 the latter place, he might catch the fugitives and 
 create a scene." 
 
 " I cannot help it if he does," replied the other ; 
 " I think I have done enough for friendship's sake. 
 So now for packing, and my journey to Ems." 
 
138 WILD DATRELL, 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 "What will Emily say when I tell her all?" was 
 uppermost in Dayrell's mind, when, leaving Paris on 
 the following day, he reviewed the incidents of the 
 past eventful week. But ere the train had reached 
 the second station on the line, his thoughts had wan- 
 dered to a point which up to this time he had for- 
 gotten. 
 
 Mon ami lecteur will remember that the offer had 
 been accepted at the Dieppe ball, and ratified next 
 morning at the interview witnessed, and rashly com- 
 mented upon, by the commis-voyageur. But nothing 
 further had transpired. I mean Mrs. Trelawney 
 had not invited him to a "morning sitting," or 
 hemmed the conventional pocket-handkerchief, while 
 he broached the subject oi £. s. d, I doubt, even, if 
 the inaugural kiss had been given, previous to which, 
 Lovelace tells me, — and he ought to know, seeing that 
 his experience extends over unnumbered props., — 
 it would be idle to ventilate the topic of finance. 
 Not that the having given or taken the " pledge of 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 139 
 
 love '^ will influence a parent when monetary matters 
 are discussed. For the, as yet, unmarried Lovelace 
 goes on to complain that, " often as he has arrived at 
 that happy Thule of his wishes — a kiss — it had never, 
 never done him any good — never made a parent over- 
 look the emptiness of his exchequer. His inamorata, 
 spite of the kiss, was again in the market to be sold 
 to the highest bidder." Dayrell, then, had paused 
 on making the tender prop. — had postponed the 
 financial denouement till his arrival at Ems. 
 
 Now, as he sat in the express train, occurred to 
 him, in full force, this difficulty. How was he to 
 break his impecuniosity to his intended mother-in- 
 law ? '' If," thought he, " Emily's parent had been 
 of the male sex, my task would have been compara- 
 tively easy. Men, I am sure, are not so ambitious as 
 the ladies ; they place less value on the pearl of their 
 domestic circle. ' Let them settle themselves in life,' 
 papa says ; and adds, perhaps, proh pudor, ^ better 
 take him for a husband than none at all.' To papa, 
 certainly, I should have to confide my financial secrets. 
 But I would choose my opportunity. I would begin 
 my tale when the third glass of ruby port warmed 
 the paternal heart, when his walnut cracked com- 
 fortably, and his fire burned cheerily. Then would 
 I talk glibly about reversions, and hopefully about 
 * life interests' — mere temporary stumbling-blocks, I 
 
140 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 would call them. I would sketch a pretty story, 
 throwing in here and there a bit of colouring — such 
 as family interest, and the like — and by the time I 
 broached the dangerous topic of 'expectations,' 
 which might — and it is a might with a vengeance ; 
 what would Quilter and Ball say to them in a 
 balance-sheet ? — ten to one the paternal face would 
 brighten, the paternal fist (if he was a pleasant old 
 gentleman) would find out my fifth rib, and the 
 paternal voice would congratulate me with, ' Take 
 her, Dayrell, my boy ; I hope it will be all right. 
 Let 's shake hands, and join the ladies/ When the 
 right time arrived for the admission of a Tales to the 
 conference, a dark cloud or two might darken the 
 horizon. But then the game is my own. Pater- 
 familias would see what the lawyer meant, but would 
 think the aff'air had gone too far : it would be better 
 to smooth over the difficulty than break off the 
 match. The other sex do not offer us the same 
 opportunities. Mammas do not generally drink port 
 wine — certainly not more than a glass or two at a 
 time. Lovelace used to sigh and wish they would 
 have a fete on the evening of the proposal. But in 
 real, sober earnest, the mothers have an awkward 
 habit of putting too high a value on their daughters. 
 Mary Ann, aged seventeen, although her hair may 
 have more than a slight tinge of red, must marry a 
 
WILD DAYKELL. 141 
 
 baronet at least; and dear Clementina, who ever 
 since she was a baby has been told every day not to 
 stoop so, turns up her nose at anything under 4,000/. 
 a-year — excellent ideas, but seldom carried out. Far 
 oftener do Mary Ann and Clementina descend from 
 their high pedestals, in their sixth and seventh sea- 
 sons respectively, and, without breaking bone or 
 heart, take a quiet parson, or some one who (in equi- 
 vocal language) is said to be not-such-a-bad match. 
 Then a mother's knowledge of business is limited. If 
 I tell her I have a thousand a-year in the Three per 
 Cents, she can understand ; if I mention reversions 
 and residuary estates, I talk a language not un- 
 derstood by the British matron. This is in my 
 favour, you would say. Pardon me, it is the con- 
 trary. For woman is by nature curious. What she 
 comprehends not herself, she asks others to investi- 
 gate, and to explain in very dreary prose. This, in 
 fine, is her ignoble method of probing the financial 
 wound. Premised that the suitor has unburthened 
 himself of his secrets, and been dismissed from the 
 maternal presence with gracious smiles — mamma now 
 pondereth for a while, then sitteth down to her desk, 
 produceth her cream laid note paper, and draws the 
 prospectus of a kind of ' Limited Liability Company' 
 in this fashion. Herself, she appoints chair-woman 
 of the new Co. Members of her family — say, an elder 
 
142 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 daughter or two are made director* — maiden aunts and 
 female relatives at a distance constitute the ' work- 
 ing staff.' I, Dayrell, am the mine. Given, as they 
 say in Euclid, me, the mine, it is required to find my 
 value. Working staff receive instructions to prose- 
 cute enquiries as to the quantity of ore the mine can 
 produce now, and how much in futuro. Chair- woman 
 reposeth till answers arrive. One sunny morning she 
 calleth a special meeting, and lays the correspondence 
 before the board. 
 
 "Answer No. 1, is from an old friend of the 
 family, acknowledging the receipt of company^s com- 
 mission, with congratulations relative to taking pos- 
 session of the mine. 
 
 *' Answer No. 2, is from an energetic maiden aunt. 
 It says, * We have not yet come to the vein ; but we 
 think it will turn out profitable. We intend to sink 
 the shaft lower, and report in our next.' 
 
 " Answer No. 3, is from a married aunt, who lives 
 at a watering place. It says, ' We have discovered 
 some valuable quartz, (this is my more venerable 
 than venerated uncle. Query; are they going to 
 ' crush ' him ?) which, some day, should supply a fair 
 amount of gold' — or, No. 3 is unfavourable, and 
 says, ' This mine has been worked before, and aban- 
 doned. You had better put up with a small loss and 
 leave it.' 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 143 
 
 " Dropping all metaphor, I shall be made over to 
 the tender mercies of divers old ladies, who will 
 glean the history of my past life, and detail it with 
 much unction to my intended mother-in-law. 
 Slangley, when on the point of winning a 30,000/. 
 prize in the matrimonial lottery, was treated in 
 the same way. His fiancee^s aunt gathered some 
 particulars respecting his scapegrace ' doings,' and 
 the match was, in consequence, broken off. ' Sir,' 
 said the stern Mrs. Chamfront, when Slangley de- 
 manded explanations, ' I only did my duty to my 
 relations. I would not allow an impostor to enter 
 our family.' To which Slangley replied, ' It was a 
 pity, madam, for such a good woman to forget her 
 duty to her neighbour.' There Slangley was wrong. 
 He should have avoided the interview. It is no use 
 complaining when the game is over ; no use dashing 
 the cards upon the table when the rubber is lost. 
 
 " How am I to get over the diflSculty ? Which of 
 my relatives will assist me in the matter of an ante- 
 nuptial settlement — put a twenty thousand pound 
 cheque under my breakfast-plate — or even give me the 
 reversion of it ? and, echo answers, who ? My aunt 
 Fan, owner of the oft-persecuted tabby, also of the 
 room redolent of tobacco (she says) since I slept 
 there, won't do anything for me. Uncle Thomas 
 cannot, and my cousin will not. Yes ; I have solved 
 
144 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 the difficulty. How stupid not to think of it before. 
 I will write to my mother when I reach Ems, and 
 tell her all. She is the proper person to undertake 
 such a business. She must enter the breach: when 
 woman meets woman — ^no, that quotation is inappro- 
 priate — when women are made ambassadors in a love 
 affair, they vindicate their character for diplomatic 
 talent. It is their mission " 
 
 " Place pour un Monsieur y^ said the guard, inter- 
 rupting Dayrell^s conclusions about woman's special 
 mission, and opening the door for a gentlemanly 
 Frenchman, who, with a bow, and profuse apologies 
 for disturbing him, took a seat on the opposite side 
 of the carriage. Unlike that eminent sportsman, the 
 Baron de N., who went to Angouleme on a shooting 
 tour with only a gun and a few shirt collars in a hat- 
 box, or our Breton Chevalier, who started on his 
 travels with no further impedimenta than his pipe, 
 the new comer had luggage and coats in abundance. 
 
 " Pardouy Monsieur,'' said the Frenchman, *' will 
 you allow me to put that bag under the seat. Merci, 
 I am obliged," he added, apologetically, " to travel 
 with many packages, because I may not return to 
 Paris for some time. I may go to your country. 
 Will monsieur take a cigar?'' proffering his case. 
 
 " Who can he be ? " thought Dayrell. '^ A govern- 
 ment victim, perhaps, recommended to travel for his 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 145 
 
 own and his country's good. Still, if that is the case, 
 he is a happy exile." Stranger becomes more cordial, 
 and praises England and the English. '' I only hope 
 he mayn't be a sharper," thought our suspicious 
 islander, 'Agoing to ask me to play at lansquenet 
 or ecarte. Does he look the sort of man to have 
 four kings inside his hat or concealed in his sleeve ? " 
 and Dayrell looked very hard at his neighbour, who, 
 nowise disconcerted, continued the conversation. 
 
 " I am delighted to hear you are going to Ems. 
 We must travel together. I know the road. We 
 can go by Cologne and Coblentz. But you would, 
 perhaps, like to hear what takes me so far. Ah, 
 Monsieur, it is an affair of the heart. You shall 
 know all some day;'' and he threw himself back in 
 the carriage with an air of sorrowful resignation. 
 
 His words struck a chord in Dayrell's breast, 
 causing him to warm towards the stranger. He was 
 too polite, however, to enquire further, but changed 
 the conversation. 
 
 " How pleasantly," he said, " we travel in this 
 express train. I remember, when a boy, going from 
 Paris to Brussels in the diligence ; such a thirty-six 
 hours torture I never underwent before. I was in 
 the interieur with four ladies. One of the latter was 
 a strong-minded governess; another, a little girl 
 under her charge. The former was wakeful during 
 
146 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 the night, like Sir Walter Scott's hermit, but instead 
 of minding her beads, she told stories — told them, 
 too, in an undertone far more aggravating to a drowsy- 
 person than the loudest conversation. I awoke out 
 of my first sleep as we entered Cambrai. It was 
 not the town, but the governess who disturbed me. 
 She was improving the occasion by telling the young 
 lady some long story about Fenelon and Charles V. 
 Where she had heard it I don't know ; I am sure I 
 never met with it in any old history. I dozed, and 
 was just becoming oblivious of the regal and Fenelon 
 tale, when the cold air of the Peronne marshes 
 struck me. Again I awoke, and heard the same 
 voice. This time it was prattling about ' La Pucelle,* 
 and the death of the British guardsmen during the 
 siege in 1814. Little girl became excited, must tread 
 on my toes in order to get to the window to see the 
 fortifications by moonlight. 'They are not nearly 
 so big in our church-yard at home,' she remarked, 
 mistaking the earthworks for the guardsmen's graves. 
 ' Now go to sleep dear,' said the preceptress, as the 
 diligence rumbled out of Peronne. Voices were 
 hushed for a time ; but sleep ! no, I could not, — the 
 shaking and jolting were positively awful. At Valen- 
 ciennes, benumbed and cold, we had to get out of 
 the interieur, and go into a fireless vault to be in- 
 spected by gensdarmes. Everybody was xerj jaded^ 
 
WILD DAYRELL. * 147 
 
 except that governess of the iron constitution ; she 
 was as fresh as paint, and came up smiling, till the 
 gensdarme, turning to her, read a name in the pass-, 
 port, and insisted that she was thefemme-de-chambre 
 described in that document. She fired at this, her 
 colour went and came, but the gensdarme shrugged 
 his shoulders, continued his writing, and when she 
 commenced a speech, told a subordinate to show her 
 into the diligence. Another quarter of an hour's 
 travelling, I was just going to sleep, when she began 
 another homily. This time the subject was rather 
 personal. ' French politeness ! Is it not a mis- 
 nomer?' Here we are at Valenciennes — as gloomy- 
 looking, as on that eventful morning fifteen years 
 ago." 
 
 " C^est bien triste" replied the Frenchman, as he 
 shrugged his shoulders, and talked contemptuously 
 of its epiders, that abomination to Frenchmen of 
 any rank or position in society. "Nevertheless, I 
 once passed a pleasant three weeks in a chateau 
 about ten kilometres from here, belonging to a friend 
 of mine. A curious incident happened, which nearly 
 brought him into trouble. They smuggle, as perhaps 
 you know, a great deal along this frontier. To carry 
 light contraband articles dogs are used. A man 
 takes five or six with him into Belgium ; the articles 
 are tied to their necks, the animals are turned loose 
 l2 
 
148 • WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 at nightj and run home as fast as they can. My 
 friend had half-a-dozen dogs, and one especial 
 favourite, called Castor. Castor had made many 
 journeys, the custom-house officials knew him well; 
 but although always on the watch, could never catch, 
 or rather shoot, him in the act. 'I expect Castor 
 to-night,' said my friend, as we sat smoking after 
 dinner. 'We shall hear him scratch presently at 
 the door. There is the plate of bones on the side- 
 board; how the old dog will enjoy his well-earned 
 reward.' He had hardly spoken when we heard the 
 report of a gun. My friend left his seat, and open- 
 ing the door, let in poor Castor, who, dangerously 
 wounded, could scarcely crawl into the haU. The 
 parcel that had cost the dog his life had hardly been 
 concealed, when the douanier arrived to make a 
 search. My friend was so annoyed at his loss, that 
 he entered Siproces, and claimed large damages from 
 the douanier. The case came before the justice of 
 the peace, who said to my friend, ' You seem to put 
 a high value on your dog; what use is he to you?' 
 ' He is a good dog, and a great favourite.' ' But for 
 what purpose do you keep him?' 'As a guard for 
 my house.' ' And you describe him as such in your 
 tax-paper?' 'Yes.' 'Then, according to your evi- 
 dence, you kept this animal to secure your premises 
 against robbers. A douanier met him one night in 
 
WILD DATRELL. 149 
 
 your grounds. The dog took no notice of one who^ 
 if not a robber, was certainly an intruder. What 
 use could such a dog be ? he was no guard to the 
 house. I cannot award damages to the plaintiff, or 
 even the costs of this action.' '* 
 
 Thus beguiling the time, they sped through the 
 dreary fog-enveloped lowlands of Belgium — ^past the 
 flag bearers, who stood at attention in the cross- 
 roads, and looked so woe-begone, poor fellows, and 
 so wistfully at the carriages as they rushed by. Their 
 ideas of what those trains carry must be like those 
 of the man who drove the Morlais malle-poste for 
 fifteen years. " It is no use, Monsieur," he said, 
 drearily, " to ask me where such and such a place is, 
 or such a house was, I know no more of the country 
 than yourself. Long as I have driven this cart, it 
 has always been by night — Cre Dieu. By daylight 
 I should hardly know the inns where I stop to 
 change and refresh my horses. No man living sees 
 less of the country and the sun than myself!" 
 
 The ugly flat plains, however, made no impression 
 on the Frenchman. His soul rose superior to the 
 influences of scenery. It was a mauvais goUt, he 
 thought, to go to Chamouni and Switzerland, and 
 hide oneself amongst barbarians, when it was so 
 much more easy and pleasant to visit Dieppe and 
 Paris, and promenade amongst the belles femmes, 
 
 l3 
 
150 WILD DAYRELL. ' 
 
 Great emphasis, mind, he laid on the last two words. 
 Although forty-five, he was still the lady-killer, the 
 irresistible; and, as an echo to the sentiment, he 
 sang the refrain so popular amongst the blouses of 
 the west, recording the successes of the owners of a 
 few sous amongst the fair denizens of the Faubourgs, 
 in the last line of which the patriotic usurps the 
 sentimental element : — 
 
 " Je suis Fran^ais — mon pays, avant tout." 
 
 '^ How ugly they are ! " he continued, as the train 
 stopped in the station of Liege, and the girls brought 
 their baskets of peaches to the windows of the car- 
 riages. " Here is one not so bad," he said, alluding 
 to a square-built Flemish damsel, owner of a pair of 
 twinkling wicked eyes. " Not so bad," he reiterated, 
 chuckling her under the chin. Wicked eyes looked 
 slily at the Frenchman, and read his character at a 
 glance. Turning to another peach-seller, she said 
 loud enough to be overheard, " Comme il est beau, ce 
 monsieur la.^' Silver coin is dropped into the peach 
 basket. Wicked eyes retires well satisfied with its 
 reward. Frenchman shrugs his shoulders, and looks 
 at Dayrell, as much as to say, " We are irresistible ; 
 it is always so." 
 
 Elated with this victory, the Frenchman's spirits 
 rose. First with stories, then with snatches from the 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 151 
 
 new opera of Orphee, he beguiled the tedious journey, 
 till, fairly tired, he sunk to sleep in his corner of the 
 carriage. It was late in the evening when they ar- 
 rived in the " scented city " of Cologne. They went 
 to the same hotel. Mine host gave them but a sorry 
 dinner. A bottle of Moselle, however, made some 
 amends for the scantiness of the repast. 
 
 "Monsieur will come to the cafe," asked the 
 Frenchman, " and have ' a grog? ' " — a curious expres- 
 sion, and one of the few Saxon words engrafted into 
 their language. The name even of the Thunderer is 
 changed. In the word " teems'* no one would recog- 
 nise the name of his favourite paper. But " grog ! " 
 "grog" is French. Future dictionaries must men- 
 tion it, more especially, if what a distinguished 
 English traveller says be true, that under its genial 
 influence only does the entente cordials blossom. 
 
 There was but a " summer" attendance at the cafe. 
 The gay world, young Germany, in fact, were in the 
 suburbs footing it to Strauss' last walse ; only a few of 
 the old stagers remained to smoke their pipes, and work 
 out intricate chess-problems. Even the billiard- 
 Toom was deserted, and the three balls bivouacked 
 together in the top pocket. Josephine, fair dispenser 
 of coffees and grogs, in the absence of victims to her 
 killing glances, was busy knitting; and the waiter, 
 having attended to the few wants of his guests, slunk 
 l4 
 
153 WILD DATRELL. 
 
 back into his corner, and gloated over a dirty 
 dog's-eared copy of the German " Dame aux Came- 
 lias." 
 
 The Frenchman, in his character of host, behaved 
 well. He ordered the " grogs/' and when they had 
 disappeared, he ordered a second relay. But the 
 genial lemon, or sugar, or spirit, had lost its power. 
 In fact, the Gaul was miserable. No longer chanting 
 the refrains from Orphee, or boasting of the suc- 
 cesses of his youth, he moodily smoked his cigar, 
 and replied in monosyllables only to DayrelFs queries. 
 The latter thought that the absence of " movement'^ 
 had demoralized his companion, and attemped to 
 draw him into conversation by telling him the names 
 and histories of certain titled dames that he would 
 meet at Ems. 
 
 The Frenchman listened as though he heard not I 
 till suddenly interrupting his companion, " You have 
 not guessed the reason of my low spirit s,^^ he said. 
 " It is here. Monsieur,^' he added, holding up a letter. 
 " This has been re-directed to me, Poste Eestante, 
 Cologne. It is the same that I wrote ten days since, 
 to the most beautiful — the most ravissante of your 
 countrywomen. Here it is, I say, returned to me. 
 But by whom ? — ah ! that is what annoys me — by 
 her mother ! Cre Dieu ! that woman has always 
 thwarted my plans ; and inside the envelope asks me 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 153 
 
 never to write to her daughter again. Ma foi ! am 
 I to submit to this, when I know by a thousand 
 signs she loves me. I could tell you, but I won't, 
 how that girl encouraged me. I will see her, when 
 I reach Ems; and I will marry her. They shall 
 not laugh at me again at Dieppe " 
 
 " At Dieppe ! You were at Dieppe ? '' exclaimed 
 Dayrell, as an idea struck him. 
 
 " Yes, Monsieur, for many months." 
 
 " And your name is — is Bellegarde." 
 
 "The same," replied the Frenchman with a bow. 
 
 " Good heavens, is it possible ! " thought Dayrell. 
 ^' How, in the name of fortune, have I managed to 
 stumble on this old driveller ; hear his intentions from 
 his own lips; and be engaged to travel — perhaps, in 
 the same carriage — with him to Ems, where he 
 must be a source of annoyance to Emily and myself. 
 The conceited fool, to boast of the thousand signs; 
 but, at the same time, so like a Frenchman, to put 
 an affectionate construction on mere commonplace 
 civilities. Bother the man ! What am I do ? Tell 
 him the true state of the case ? That I would, if I had 
 settled the financial question with Emily's mother. 
 Would that I could leave him, or drop him into the 
 river, or remove him gently — ah, well, the case is 
 hardly desperate as yet. Let me try and convince 
 him that his errand will be fruitless." 
 
154 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 "Do you know/* he said to Bellegarde, "that 
 Miss Trelawney is going to be married?" 
 
 " So I have heard, and to a young Englishman ; 
 but my friend at Dieppe tells me quite a different 
 story." 
 
 " Hoaxed he is, as I 'm a sinner," soliloquised Day- 
 rell, "this is really too ludicrous." "Let me tell 
 you. Monsieur Bellegarde, that your visit to Ems 
 ■will be profitless ; that Miss Trelawney is engaged; 
 and that by going there you will only annoy her." 
 
 "It is very kind of monsieur to tell me this," 
 answered Bellegarde. " Monsieur will, perhaps, read 
 this letter," he added, handing one out of a packet 
 he held in his hand. 
 
 " T can't read this," said Dayrell, petulantly ; " it 
 begins with mon cher, but the rest I cannot make 
 out. Your French MSS. are abominable." 
 
 " Listen then to me," said the Frenchman, and he 
 read out one of the most unblushing epistles ever 
 penned. Young Terranova, the writer, knew the 
 Count's foibles, and had artfully mixed the cup of 
 flattery and romance. "The Trelawneys had left 
 Dieppe," it said, " so soon — ^much sooner than they 
 intended. Ah ! why did the belle Anglaise leave ? 
 Monsieur Bellegarde could understand. The poor 
 girl was low-spirited, and had refused to dance with 
 any one ; and why, oh Bellegarde ? Bellegarde, why 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 155 
 
 were you absent from Dieppe? But go to Ems," 
 the writer continued, "where success awaits you; 
 where the heiress is ready to throw herself into your 
 arms ; and where you have the good wishes of your 
 friend Terranova/* " What do you think of that ? " 
 asked Bellegarde, triumphantly. 
 
 " That you are deceived and taken in by your 
 friend." 
 
 " Deceived ! he had better not attempt that. No, 
 Monsieur, it is not, I tell you, it is not so. I know 
 that this is all true ; and that before a month is over, 
 there wiU be many to wring their hands and be 
 jealous of the grand success of Bellegarde." 
 
 '' Good night," said Dayrell, utterly disgusted, and 
 leaving the cafe. " It is no use trying to pierce the 
 rhinoceros hide of that man's conceit. Most people 
 would have thought a ' returned ' letter a broad hint 
 to retire from the contest. But a Frenchman! 
 faugh ! a hint is lost on him. Let him revel in 
 his absurd fancies. He will change his note before 
 the end of next week." 
 
 Although a foggy morning, the real pilgrims of 
 the Rhine mustered strong on board the Coblentz 
 steamer. From every street that led to the quay 
 they came in ones, and twos, and threes ; some strug- 
 gling under the weight of heavy coats and bags, some 
 half washed, and some half shaved, all unbreakfasted, 
 
156 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 and consequently very cross. Comes Briefless, bravely 
 walking, stick in hand and knapsack at back ; Brief- 
 less will blister his feet, but he'll save his money and 
 gain information. Comes our Bagster, of the Foreign 
 Office, on his way to Homburg, with that five-and- 
 twenty pounds he borrowed from, the mess waiter of 
 his club for (must it be owned) a losing flutter at rouge- 
 et-noir. Absent is the genuine chieftain of the hills, 
 but present the mock ditto of Cheapside, in a tartan 
 kilt unowned by Highland clan. Treading the 
 ground delicately, with the air of languid swelldom, 
 comes Noses — our old friend Jedadiah Noses. Take 
 off" thy thistle-adorned bonnet, Noses; that decep- 
 tion won't do, for we know you. Why try to pass 
 for a Highlander, thou scion of an unloved race? 
 And poet Jones, quiet Jones, dreamily passes to the 
 bows of the vessel; he, whose brain is already at 
 work, and who at one p.m. shall produce the four 
 lines that will astonish, nay, move unto tears, suscep- 
 tible maternal Jones. Forgive us, Jones, if we mis- 
 quote them, but to the best of our recollection they 
 ran as follows : — 
 
 " I love, I adore thee, thou peerless Rhine, 
 From Mayence to Drachenfels 
 I'll sit on this deck, and I'll quaff thy wine 
 Regardless of dinner bells." 
 
 " I hope he will be late — there is the second bell 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 157 
 
 —three minutes more and they will cast off," said 
 Dayrell, to himself, as he stood near the paddle-box 
 of the steamer, and anxiously scanned the last groups 
 of pilgrims hurrying on board. " Alas, here he 
 comes, with his light coats on his arm, and the in- 
 evitable bag slung round his shoulders. Ah ! he has 
 a squabble with the porter ; he may yet be left be- 
 hind. No, he has settled with that sleepless man- 
 of-all-work, the night-hawk of the hotel, and steps 
 jauntly on board/' 
 
 " Bon jour J Monsieur Dayrell, I say that man is a 
 robber; he has charged me forty sous for carrying 
 my little packages to the steamer. It is too bad,'' 
 exclaimed Bellegarde, in his anger at manners, cus- 
 toms, and all things Prussian. 
 
 But Dayrell, in his disappointment, returned no 
 answer. He looked at Bellegarde with much the 
 same disgust as Pickwick did at the ungainly qua- 
 druped he was compelled to lead along the dusty 
 road. " To be tied to that man," he thought, " is 
 something awful. I must be rid of him. If he 
 would simplify matters, by dropping into one of 
 those boats that come from the shore to meet the 
 steamer, be carried to a village at the top of the 
 mountains, or be locked up because his passport was 
 not strictly en regie. Alas ! no such luck for me. 
 I must listen to his nonsense; I must travel with 
 
158 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 him as far as Coblentz ; I must be a Sinbad, a victim 
 to that man of Gaul. Jones is at liberty to ponder 
 with his elbows upon his knees, and his head between 
 his hands, while gazing on the picturesque Drachen- 
 fels, and be unmolested. Noses enjoys himself, sip- 
 ping Johannisberg, price two thalers a bottle. His 
 sorrow is only temporary, when the waiter, who 
 guesses that Noses is no tip, brings him the drum- 
 sticks of a fowl, and explains, ^ For you, for you, ver 
 goot, ver goot.' Even paterfamilias, though his coat- 
 tails are pulled every five minutes by his daughters 
 wanting to know the name of some tower, can find 
 a refuge amongst the smokers at the bows of the 
 vessel. But for me there is no escape. The steamer 
 is small. Bellegarde follows me everywhere, even 
 unto the confined and dinner-scented cabin." 
 
 Never had Dayrell passed a longer day — never 
 been so thoroughly bored. Cost what it might, he 
 had determined to be rid of the Frenchman. He 
 had no notion of travelling to Ems in such company. 
 
 Now Hermitage is a strong and soporiferous liquid; 
 more especially the "vintage" which mine host at 
 Coblentz brought from an inner crypt for Bellegarde 
 and Dayrell's dinner. Vachette's ten sou cigars are 
 black, new, and strong. It was of these the Devon- 
 shire parson spoke with much unction ; " They are 
 thick, they are strong, they get into my head, and I 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 159 
 
 like them." Bellegarde would have one out of 
 DayrelFs case ; he would smoke it on the bridge of 
 boats, and with flushed face, and somewhat unsteady 
 step, he repaired to that sub- Jove smoking-place. The 
 sun went down. The fortress of Ehrenbreitstein was 
 the last to profit by its rays. The twilight succeeded. 
 One by one the lamps were lit along the quay. The 
 tea-gardens began to fill, and the merry voices of the 
 peasantry were wafted across the broad surface of 
 the Khine. Then, from behind Stolzenfels, arose 
 the moon, putting the lamps to shame, silvering the 
 old gabled ends of the houses, and throwing long 
 shadows over the swift running stream. True to its 
 character for strength, the Hermitage had done its 
 work, and mounted to the Frenchman's brain. 
 What the wine had begun, the cool night air and 
 the strong cigars finished. Fain would he have 
 visited the dancers, but his step became unsteady. 
 He was tired, he said ; he would return to his hotel. 
 So a candle and key were put into his hand, and 
 door, No. 76, closed on the partially intoxicated 
 BeUegarde. 
 
 Dayrell lingered some time by the river, smoked 
 another cigar; then conversed with the landlord, 
 and finally ascended to No. 75. He listened at the 
 Frenchman's door. Nasal sounds, deep, but irregular, 
 proceeded from within. The moon shone through 
 
160 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 the casement on Bellegarde's patent leather pearl- 
 buttoned shoes^ and the be-labelled key. The temp- 
 tation was too great. Dayrell turned the latter 
 noiselessly in the keyhole, opened the window — a 
 water-butt stood underneath; into it fell, with little 
 splash, key No. 76. Then in each enamelled shoe he 
 put a stone. Both descended swiftly to the same 
 bourne, much to the comfort of the frogs, who, 
 doubtless, bivouacked that night in a pair of real 
 Parisian bottines. Everything still, quiet, save the 
 irregular snore of the Frenchman, Dayrell retired 
 to rest, delicately, and in much comfort. 
 
 It is morning, and seven a.m. There is a disturb-* 
 ance in the upper regions of the hotel. Chamber- 
 maids, with dusters and brooms, flock about Carl the 
 blubbering, Carl the wounded boots — partly curious, 
 partly with a view to consolation. Carl relates his 
 short but moving tale : how, instructed by the re- 
 cording slate, he had been to call No. 6 — 76 it was 
 originally, but the 7 had been erased by Dayrell. 
 No. 6, a commercial, but choleric Englishman, had 
 retaliated by hurling a perfect avalanche of weapons 
 at the intruder. Carl, wounded on the side of his 
 head, and with china candlestick broken in his hand, 
 is in full retreat, about to go downstairs and report 
 the case to landlord. All this time Frenchman — our 
 Bellegarde — ^in No. 76 snores unconscious. 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 161 
 
 Malle-poste is on the point of starting for Ems. 
 Dayrell, clean-shaved and breakfasted, knocks at 
 No. 76, Frenchman, unconscious of locked door and 
 key abstracted, warbles cheerfully as he tumbles out 
 of bed. Dayrell takes his place in the coupe, and is 
 at least half a league from Coblentz, amidst the vines 
 and on the right of the placid Lahn, ere Frenchman 
 finds that he is a prisoner, and vociferates through 
 keyhole, in tones at first angry, afterwards plaintive. 
 
 M 
 
162 WILD DAYRELL, 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Ems, August 14tli, 185—. 
 My Dear Mother, 
 
 Thus far have I travelled. When you 
 have finished this letter you will say, " I might have 
 gone farther and fared worse." Annie must have 
 already told, you that I met a Miss Trelawney at 
 Dieppe. Without any circumlocution, I have to in- 
 form you that I am engaged to her " conditionally." 
 She is beautiful — a pleasant thing at the breakfast- 
 table ; has money, which will put something on the 
 breakfast-table ; and a good temper, so she will not 
 blow me up over the breakfast-table. You will ask 
 what I mean by " conditionally ? '^ You see, my dear 
 mother, I had an interview with Mrs. Trelawney to 
 discuss the topic of finance. I admitted that my (2s 
 in prcesenti was of ridiculously small amount, but 
 hinted that my ces infuturo might be large. She did 
 not express any decided opinion on the merits of my 
 rambling statement — I wish she had. She only de- 
 su'ed me to write to you. She will not correspond 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 163 
 
 with her relatives till your answer arrives. She 
 cannot with Tales^ till I give her his address, which 
 may I not do till the last moment, lest that man of 
 best intentions — but unable, like Micawber's boy, to 
 carry them out in any way whatsoever — should send 
 a dry and depreciating answer to Mrs. Trelawney, 
 and, perhaps, in his enthusiasm for legal phraseology, 
 should add the heading, " In re Dayrell." Mother, 
 neglect not this opportunity of settling your son. 
 Smooth away all difficulties in your letter to my in- 
 tended mother-in-law. A subsidy paid annually to 
 the young couple would settle the question. Even 
 this you may be inclined to do, when you remember 
 that most men have but one chance in their lives of 
 bettering their condition. This, my dear mother, is 
 mine. Hoping and expecting, : 
 
 I am, 
 Your affectionate Son, 
 
 E. W. Dayrell. 
 P.S. — Beware of two female relatives of the Tre- 
 lawneys — known in fashionable circles as the Kil- 
 kenny cats — and who live near you. They must be 
 unfriendly, Emily tells me, as they have settled that 
 their niece is not to marry any one under the rank of 
 viscount. 
 
 This letter, still preserved among the family ar- 
 M 2 
 
164 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 chives, Dayrell sent to his mother the day subsequent 
 to his arrival at Ems. One remark we who are be- 
 hind the scenes have to make — namely, the writer 
 was a bad judge of woman-kind, and had failed to 
 notice the disappointment his confession had inflicted 
 on Mrs. Trelawney. The vague reports that had 
 reached her ear at Dieppe had led her to suppose 
 that our hero was a most desirable party. True, he 
 was gentlemanly, of good family, might be well off 
 some day, and would probably receive assistance from 
 his mother now. But her daughter Emily, she could 
 not help thinking, might have done better, or, before 
 the affair had gone so far, might have learnt more 
 about his actual position. Congratulating herself, 
 however, on her residence in a quiet place, far from 
 her friends and relatives, who would otherwise have 
 seen, heard, and, perhaps, maliciously circulated news 
 about her daughter s courtship, she determined to 
 await Mrs. Dayrell's answer before she gave her con- 
 sent. For the nonce, she dropped all idea of forming 
 a Limited Liability Company. She would wait, and, 
 in the meantime, warn Emily to be cautious, and not 
 go too far with Dayrell. But in this she was out 
 of her reckoning. Her daughter would not take the 
 hint. Miss Emily had always had her own way, and 
 she intended to have it now. With her, it was 
 " Dayrell aut nullus,'' although she did not say as 
 
WILD DATRELL. 165 
 
 much to her mother in either Latin or English. The 
 victory over Sandes and the discomfiture of Belle- 
 garde were bearing fruit. It is not the first time 
 that enterprise and pluck are favourably weighed in 
 the balance against rank and the English Fetah — 
 money. 
 
 A few words about Ems, the quiet and secluded ; 
 Ems nestling amidst wooded hills, the sun-scorched, 
 the paradise of flies. Ah me ! but the latter are 
 hardly less troublesome than our old enemy the 
 mosquito. This little village is not aristocratic, like 
 Carlsbad; nor a nest of gamblers, like Homburg; 
 nor mobbed, like Baden ; nor a refuge for invalids, 
 like Kissingen ; nor ugly, like Wiesbaden. It is es- 
 sentially a lady's watering-place, and generally quiet, 
 its gaiety or dullness depending mainly on the cha- 
 racters and purses of its visitors. There is a kursaal, 
 and there is a band ; there is a gambling table, and 
 there are balls, and immemorial custom has esta- 
 blished for its visitors a programme, like Median 
 law, unchangeable. At one p.m. the Germans and 
 fashionables of all nations (our record has nothing to 
 do with the legitimate water-drinker, whose muffled 
 figure at exercise we have seen from our window a 
 dozen times since day-break) make their first appear- 
 ance at an early dinner. At three p.m. on the pro- 
 menade, but in the shade, the German settles to 
 m3 
 
166 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 chess and coffee, not disregarding the ubiquitous 
 meerschaum. English lions, male and female, repose 
 after heavy dinner near the fountains, for the nonce 
 insensible to donkey-boy jargon of "ver goot, ver 
 goot/^ — the epithet the native applies to his sad- 
 eyed animal. Four p.m. sees donkey-boys trium- 
 phant, and pursuing their weight-carriers with shouts 
 unearthly. Stumble not, pony of Jerusalem; lag 
 not, there is a rod in pickle for the offender; whack, 
 whack, we hear it afar off descending on the culprit's 
 back. At six there is the grand promenade of rank 
 and fashion on the Place. At eight the world attends 
 a ball or a concert, or crowds about the roulette 
 table. At eleven the curtain falls on the legitimate 
 drama, the majority of the strangers leave their 
 boxes and go home. A farce (as we shall presently 
 see) may follow, but it will be played to a select 
 audience. 
 
 In this routine the quasi-engaged couple took 
 little part. They opined that the general public 
 regarded love-making in the light of a bore, as of 
 course that general public does, who, when the 
 excitement of watching the flirting campaign is past, 
 when the offer has been accepted, and the what-he- 
 has-got has been ventilated, look out for the next 
 victim on the high road to the hymeneal altar. *' Le 
 roi est mort '' — the public says, " Vive le roi" Our 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 167 
 
 king, however, was not dead, but, in spite of Mrs. 
 Trelawney, who insisted on making one of the party, 
 fled with Emily every morning to the other side of 
 the Lahn. We say fled, for Bellegarde had already 
 arrived at Ems. From early morn to dewy eve the 
 Frenchman might be — nay, was — seen by Dayrell 
 " persecuting " the Place, and performing sentry's 
 duty opposite the hotel, in animated conversation 
 with a compatriot. To avoid him required the use 
 of stratagems, only inferior in cleverness to those of 
 a debtor when watched by the myrmidons of the 
 inexorable lord of Cursitor Street. For some days 
 the pair had succeeded in preserving their incognito, 
 longer than that was impossible in so small a town 
 as Ems. 
 
 It was while wandering from the Place by a cir- 
 cuitous route that Bellegarde pounced upon them. 
 With self-satisfied smile, with cordiality bursting 
 out of every pore, with sweep of hat from head to 
 knee, he saluted Miss Trelawney and her mother. 
 He was so delighted to meet them. It was so long 
 since they were at Dieppe. Ems had appeared so 
 triste without them ; but now, — and he slapped his 
 padded breast, and looked theatrically happy. Then 
 selecting Mrs. Trelawney as the recipient of his 
 compliments, he told her of the news from Dieppe, 
 and how happy he was to hear of Mademoiselle's 
 M 4 
 
168 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 engagement. "My little passion/^ he said, — "ah 
 well, that is forgotten; we young men must some- 
 times suffer ! " Then adroitly changing the subject, he 
 prattled of Paris, and his imprisonment at Coblentz, 
 ascribing his misfortune at the latter place to super- 
 natural agency, as neither shoes nor key could be 
 found. As to a practical joke, such an idea never 
 entered his head. Bah ! who would dare to play 
 one off on him ? 
 
 Emily thought him a strange creature, and laughed 
 as of yore at his absurdities ; but Dayrell felt grate- 
 ful at being released from an awkward situation. So 
 when Bellegarde asked Miss Trelawney to go to the 
 ball that night, and confidentially informed her how 
 utterly " desolate " he felt every evening amongst the 
 ugly stupid people at Ems, she consented ; and the 
 Frenchman, having gained his purpose, retired, 
 waving farewells with his hat, and smiling blandly. 
 
 One word to explain this change in Bellegarde's 
 sentiments. The thirst after knowledge is as uni- 
 versal in Ems circles as elsewhere. The only excep- 
 tions are the Germans, whose apathy is proverbial. If 
 Clara Smith returns from her ride a little after dusk, 
 or Bagster entertains Josephine with the pearls of his 
 rhetoric for an hour in the avenue of elms, all the 
 world will know it next morning. Alas ! the cha- 
 racter of the former will not be worth an hour's 
 
WILD DAYEELL. 169^ 
 
 purchase, and the latter, unless he elects to go to 
 the hymeneal altar, will be said, by every dowager 
 in the place, to have "behaved shamefully/* But 
 'tis an oft-told tale, that of scandal being the marrow 
 of existence to small societies. Even the waiter of 
 the hotel (with an eye to his own emolument) adds 
 to the general stock of information, and learns what 
 the soi-disant colonels and captains are doing at the 
 gambling tables. When from his friend the croupier 
 he hears that Carambole is winning, and that Diddle^s 
 losses are considerable, and when the latter, not 
 being of a taciturn disposition, or over wise, makes 
 the chambermaids his confidants, the news, like 
 sweet incense, ascends to the remotest boudoir, and 
 the maid, as she brushes her mistress's golden tresses, 
 tells the results of roulette, adding such trifles as an 
 to a 100, and so on, according as her fervid imagi- 
 nation may happen to dictate. 
 
 Hence Bellegarde, ere he had been twelve hours 
 in Ems, had heard the petty scandal of the place, 
 and also of Emily's engagement. Such persons as 
 knew not his character, would expect to hear of 
 wringing of hands, of tearing of hair, or at least 
 that the spretce injuria formae would have found vent 
 in forcible expletives. On the contrary, he received 
 the news like a philosopher, and argued with himself 
 after the manner of the French school, that believes 
 
170 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 in nothing, and puts faith in neither man nor woman, 
 no matter how serious the subject, how strong the 
 protestation. "She is not a whit better/' he thought, 
 " than her countrywomen. She can walk and flirt 
 with me. She can be amused with my stories, she 
 takes my arm for the Lancers in preference to one 
 oJBPered her by a stupid English boy, whose forte is 
 walking stifily, and most shyly talking pendente 
 quadrille. Yes, she even walks alone with me on 
 the promenade, and straightway the cercle congratu- 
 lates me on my success. Yet, after all, I am only 
 her friend, her good-natured friend. Enter some 
 fine morning one of her rich but unamiable com- 
 patriots. Once in a way he opens his mouth, asks 
 her to marry him, and is accepted. Of no account 
 in the balance are good looks, sprightliness, and 
 devotion, — all is forgotten when weighed against the 
 one thing needful — money ! It is a nation, that 
 England J very philanthropic, they say ; I would rather 
 call it by a name signifying love of money. Cre 
 Dieu! but I should be angry if there were not as 
 good fish in the sea as ever came out of it. This 
 Mons. Dayrell is rich, is he ? On that account he 
 is preferred to me ? Eh, bien I let us see if fortune 
 will always stand his friend.^' 
 
 When Bellegarde talked of " a ball to-night," he 
 spoke figuratively, and simply alluded to one of those 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 171 
 
 assemblies held twice a-week at the Kursaal. Here, 
 at that date, met convives of every grade, not decked 
 in suit of sable or cloud of gauze, but in the matu- 
 tinal high dress, the frock and morning coat of 
 diverse pattern. In spite, however, of such indiifferent 
 toilettes, the saloon looked well. Gloriously refulgent 
 were the lamps, full was the band, and peremptory 
 the master of the ceremonies in keeping the circle 
 clear for the waltzers, and preventing enthusiastic 
 Smith and Company from gyrating out of turn round 
 the spacious room. It is said that, since the family 
 of Smith, Brown, and other time-honoured English 
 houses have dropped like a cloud of locusts on the 
 scene, the waltzes are mobbed, the quadrilles im- 
 passable, and that the polkas form a confused mass 
 of dancing matter, like unto what we, in our younger 
 days, used to witness on a Derby night at Yauxhall. 
 It is regulated by Kursaal decree that ladies must 
 dance with the first partner who claims their hand. 
 Very pleasant rule for Ellen, plainest of the plain, 
 and Jane, pronounced heavy in hand by her not over- 
 indulgent countrymen, a pair who thirst for waltzes, 
 and are only anxious to be seen dancing, no matter 
 with whom, without an eye to, or a thought of mar- 
 riage. To them is the simpering Fritz, with hair 
 parted down the middle, and on good terms with 
 himself, most welcome. He whisks them round the 
 
172 WILD DAYEELL, 
 
 magic circle, and talks over his beer afterwards, as 
 we have ourselves heard, of the gushing truthfulness 
 of those English maidens. But by Emily, disturber 
 of hearts, and Edith, usually engaged ten deep, is 
 the rule ignored. What? Lower their banner to 
 some German shopkeeper, be whisked round the 
 ball-room by the possessor of some 30 roods of vine- 
 land. No, thank you. A belle of Bourbon- Vendee 
 may have been sent to a kind of dancing Coventry, 
 because she refused to waltz with the indignant 
 6l iroWoL Our Ediths and Emilys fear not such a 
 catastrophe. They know that one glance — one wish 
 expressed — will bring a score of Englishmen to their 
 aid. 
 
 Thus was Emily beleaguered by the foreigner on 
 the first night of her appearance. Carl, of length 
 of limb interminable, the straddler in the noble 
 waltz, hovered on her flank. Rochow, the pensive 
 painter, took her measure from a distance, and waited 
 for the first bar of music, etiquette forbidding him to 
 make engagements beforehand. There was Von Dan- 
 delsen, known in select circles as the falling tower 
 of Pisa, so much out of the perpendicular did his 
 body incline during the waltz, conversing with two 
 companions, and looking askance at the fair English- 
 woman, prepared at a moment^s notice to swoop like 
 an eagle upon its prey. There was yet another on the 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 173 
 
 watch, — Bellegarde, who, at the first wave of the con- 
 ductor's baton, stepped forward, and offered his arm. 
 Emily hesitated, and would have declined the honour, 
 but recollecting the customs of the country, she took 
 a place with him in the quadrille then forming. 
 
 The Frenchman plunged into conversation with 
 truly national ardour. " Mademoiselle,^' he said, 
 "will make conquests to-night. She will not be 
 allowed to sit down during the evening. If she only 
 knew how the jeunes gens panted to dance with the 
 prettiest Anglaise ; not that they perform well, or 
 are practically safe. Oh ! no ; Monsieur Rochow is 
 the wildest waltzer in Germany, and the day of 
 Monsieur Dandelsen's fall cannot be long postponed. 
 Command my services. Mademoiselle Trelawney ; use 
 my name, if you wish to say that you are engaged." 
 
 " Thank you,'' said Emily, smiling ; " I shall not 
 require any one's assistance ; I have a headache, and 
 intend to leave early — after the next waltz, probably." 
 
 " It is too early to go to bed," suggested Belle- 
 garde to Dayrell, when they had escorted the ladies 
 to the hotel, and bade them good night. " I have 
 a supper in my rooms at twelve — you must come — 
 till then we can smoke a cigar, or go back to the ball- 
 room, whichever you wish. 
 
 They re-entered the Kursaal. Most of the dancers 
 had adjourned to the saloon and the table, where the 
 
174 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 croupiers were reaping an unprecedented harvest 
 from roulette. An Englishman had just arrived. 
 He threw a thousand franc note on the tahle, and 
 calmly awaited the result. The wheel, surmounted 
 by a cross, typical of pain created, revolves : the ball 
 jumps hither and thither, strikes the sides, and crack, 
 crack, flies off at right angles, till gradually exhaust- 
 ing itself, it looks into one or two pigeon holes 
 longing to receive it, and finally reposes in No. 28. 
 One lynx-eyed, green-shaded, yellow-visaged croupier 
 monotonously calls the colour and the number. Two 
 of his brethren rake up thalers, or pay the small fry 
 their winnings with nonchalance inimitable. Senior 
 croupier's hand dives into a strong box, fishes out a 
 yellow note, which he hands to the successful English- 
 man. Again the wheel revolves to the old chorus of 
 the lynx-eyed; at first the ball runs fiercely, then 
 demurely, till it languidly drops into the red. From 
 small fry arises a mingled murmur of astonishment 
 and inquiry. ^^ Won three thousand francs ! who is 
 he ? '* Answer, " Sare Robare — Sare Pale," so they 
 pronounce the name of a sporting baronet. Small 
 fry forgets to stake, and concentrates its attention 
 on the three yellow notes again staked on the red. 
 " He has won again. Oh, Sare Robare — Oh, Sare 
 Pale,'' bursts from the excited multitude; '^he is 
 the luckiest man in the world." Previous murmurs 
 
WILD DATRELL. 175 
 
 break into a mingled roar of astonishment and congra- 
 tulation, when for the sixth time the colour is red, and 
 the Englishman wins. There is a shuflSing of feet, a 
 confusion of voices, an uneasy wriggle on his stool 
 on the part of the lynx-eyed. When the excitement 
 has partially subsided thirty heads bend forward to 
 see what the owner of the yellow notes will do now. 
 But where are they, and where is he ? Oh ! Sare 
 Robare — Sare Pale — has left with his winnings during 
 the confusion. Did anybody hear of such luck? ^^Faites 
 lejeuj' calls the croupier ; the ball jumps as lively as 
 ever, but the mob have not recovered the shock; 
 there is scarcely a thaler this throw upon the table. 
 
 "Not so bad, my friend; we have won some 
 Napoleons," said Bellegarde to Dayrell, both of whom 
 had followed the fortunes of " Sare Robare." " The 
 play is nearly finished for to-night ; let us go to my 
 rooms for supper." 
 
 Dayrell had broken his vow, but the coin jingled 
 pleasantly in his pocket. Just this once can do no 
 harm, he thought. At twelve o'clock at night any 
 excuse will set a man's conscience at rest. 
 
 To Bellegarde's supper had been invited such a 
 motley party as only Baden Homburg or Ems can 
 produce. The majority of the guests were English, 
 some of them titled, and all owners of good names ; 
 but for different reasons tolerated rather than wel- 
 
176 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 coined in continental society. Their presence in 
 foreign parts is easily accounted for. Some, England 
 loves not well; others it loves, but somehow the 
 subjects of its yearning slip from the maternal em- 
 brace, preferring the air of liberty to that of Her 
 Majesty's Bench. Of course if we were to hint at 
 their compulsory absence, the notion would be re- 
 ceived by them with derision and rejected with scorn. 
 Their manner of living is extravagant, and their 
 carelessness about money proverbial; but we who 
 are behind the scenes, remark that a display of 
 Napoleons is only consequent on luck at the tables, 
 or the arrival of allowances from home, at the be- 
 ginning of each month. 
 
 Included in the party that evening were those dis- 
 tinguished characters Sir Henry Fireworks and Mr. 
 Baillie. The baronet, a wanderer on the Continent 
 these twenty years, was a chronic sufferer from insol- 
 vency and a quick temper. One outburst of the 
 latter they talk of to this day in Paris. Sir Henry 
 was staying at Meurice's Hotel. To that world- 
 renowned hostelry flock every morning such English 
 as happen to be in Paris, to make plans for the day 
 or to read the papers. On one occasion Sir Henry 
 left his bedroom at a late hour. On his breakfast- 
 table in the coffee-room there was no copy of the 
 Times, "It is engaged," the waiter said, pointing 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 177 
 
 to a youth who sat near the fire, devouring its 
 contents. That boy, unconscious of his crime, had 
 revelled in the leading articles, calculated what in- 
 come 30,000/. invested in '^ Canadas" at 114f would 
 bring, and impartially reviewed the decision of the 
 worthy magistrate in the matter of Mr. Babbage 
 and the organ-grinder, when happening to raise his 
 mild blue eye, it encountered the glaring optics of 
 Sir Henry. " Would you like to see this ?^' sim- 
 pered the youth, offering a portion of the paper. 
 " What on earth do you mean by keeping it ?" cried 
 the irascible baronet. " Do you know. Sir, I was at 
 Waterloo before you were born ?" Baillie, on the 
 other hand, was the reverse of Sir Henry, a quiet, but 
 eccentric old gentleman — a veritable Bedouin. He 
 had travelled and played in every European capital, 
 cheerfully risking his money when he had it to lose, 
 borrowing from others when he had none himself j 
 and, in the absence of sovereigns and lenders, watch- 
 ing the game for hours in a blue military cloak, 
 sole relic, people said, of his Waterloo campaign. 
 
 Most Frenchmen would have provided sparingly 
 for their guests in the matter of wine for supper. A 
 little Chablais with the oysters, a bottle or so of 
 Jullien dispensed in tumblers, with a thimbleful of 
 Burgundy or champagne to conclude the banquet, 
 would have been followed by a throwing aside of 
 
178 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 napkins and a lighting of cigarettes. But Bellegarde 
 produced the different vintages in profusion, and, 
 believing it to be the English fashion, proposed the 
 health of his guests in what the papers would call a 
 neat and appropriate speech. The party was gra- 
 dually becoming noisy — Sir Henry was, in fact, 
 uproarious, when Baillie's clear, ringing voice, the 
 only part of his battered frame uninjured by the de- 
 stroyer, silenced the others — the tone and manner of 
 the narrator indicating how sincerely he believed 
 what he was telling them. 
 
 "You have asked me for that story, and I will tell 
 it you. I was at Vienna in the year 1825. I was a 
 young man then, and stopped there solely for plea- 
 sure. One night I had a dream. I dreamt that a 
 figure, which I took for John the Baptist, appeared 
 to me, and, calling me by name, asked me what I 
 should like to know? I answered promptly, 'The 
 year of my death.^ The Spirit said, * Follow me.' 
 I was carried through the air, and presently found 
 myself in a vault in which were three coffins, with 
 names and dates inscribed in letters of fire. On the 
 two lowest I read the names of my nearest relations : 
 on the uppermost I read my own, and the year 1832. 
 I turned to John the Baptist, and said, 'What so 
 soon ?' He answered, * Look again.' I did so, and 
 read 1852 ; and again said, ' What so soon T He re- 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 179 
 
 plied your eyes are dim, look once more.' This time 
 I read 1872, and, turning to the spirit, said, ' I am 
 content/ The dream passed away. I own I was 
 alarmed in 1832, and very nervous in 1852 ; but in 
 1854, I was convinced that what I had seen would 
 come true. I went to England that year to attend 
 the funeral of one of my relations. It took place at 
 Kensal Green Cemetery. The service over, I went 
 into the vault and saw my dream partially realized. 
 There were the names of my two relatives and the 
 dates of their decease on two coffins, and there was 
 a place vacant. Gentlemen, I shall fill it in 1872.^* 
 
 " Let Mons. BaiUie live till 72,'' exclaimed Belle- 
 garde, amid the general silence that followed the 
 story. "You all seem very dull," he continued. 
 '' Who wiU say yes to a game of baccarat ? You 
 cannot play, Mons. Dayrell. That makes no diffe- 
 rence : it is the easiest game to learn. Sir Henry 
 says he will make a bank with you. Beginners 
 always win. I envy him his partner." 
 
 Now, to the uninitiated, baccarat seems to require 
 less skill on the part of the player than any other 
 game of cards, blind-hookey excepted. But the cool, 
 wary speculator knows better. To him its apparent 
 simplicity is a mine of wealth. While young Reck- 
 less declares that " It is all luck,'' and, without con- 
 sideration, throws his Napoleons on the table, the 
 N 2 
 
180 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 practised player knows by instinct when to increase 
 his stakes and when to stop. The game has been the 
 ruin of many. When we asked the other day the 
 
 reason why Mons. T and the Count de V , 
 
 the cheeriest and pleasantest fellows in Paris, had dis- 
 appeared, we were told that " they played nothing 
 but baccarat, and that only for three years." 
 
 Fortune has been at times a cruel persecutor, but 
 never more so than on this occasion. The ill-starred 
 bank couldn't, you might almost say, wouldn^t win. 
 If the pair played prudently, and in their deal 
 amassed something trifling, a fatal " banco " would 
 dissipate it before the cards were passed. If Sir 
 Henry growled, and rashly bancoed against Belle- 
 garde, the latter would take the announcement with 
 much the same defiant air as a Finisterre cliff receives 
 the rolling wave of the Atlantic, and turning the 
 right card, invite the chafing baronet to "banco'' 
 the whole amount just this once — only this once. 
 At the end of the fifth round Sir Henry was furious, 
 and his last Napoleon was swept away. " I '11 have 
 my revenge another night," he said, gnashing his 
 teeth, as he left the room. '^ You had better come 
 with me, Mr. Dayrell," he added; "you will lose all 
 night, mark my words, if you stay." 
 
 Dayrell not only disregarded the advice, but hoping 
 to regain a portion of his losses, borrowed from 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 181 
 
 Bellegarde, and continued his set. Only introduce 
 the credit system at play, and the end is certain; 
 namely, a heavy loss for one of the party, and (pro- 
 bably) a long-deferred settling. Baillie had up to this 
 time played mildly, but certainly with the luck rather 
 against him than otherwise. His pose plastique in 
 the military cloak, his solitary hover about the tables 
 for the remainder of the month, was, after a manner, 
 predestined. But now, on hearing Dayrell use the 
 words, "borrow,^^ and "that makes so much," his 
 eyes glistened ; he felt his time had arrived. To tell 
 the plain truth, people who knew Baillie well were 
 shy of taking his I. O. U.'s ; but strangers could not 
 resist the winning address of the gentlemanly old 
 man. So, when smiling affably, he offered to fill the 
 vacant baronet's place, and bring Dayrell through in 
 triumph by means of a system that had never failed, 
 the latter unwittingly assented, and the old man 
 chuckled audibly. The latter thought to himself, 
 " if our banks wins, well and good ; if it loses, it is 
 a case of my giving an I. O. U. to one more stranger 
 in the world ; that is all." The system throve well 
 the first quarter of an hour. Bellegarde almost 
 regretted that he had given his guests their revenge, 
 till Baillie, too confidently, covered twenty Napoleons 
 set by the former and lost. From that moment 
 everything went wrong with the firm. No matter 
 n3 
 
182 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 how they played, they lost every set, and at the end 
 of the seance two hundred pounds would not have 
 covered DayrelFs losses. Two hundred pounds ! 
 Where was he to get it ? An awkward sum for him 
 to lose just now — very awkward, he thought, a« leav- 
 ing Bellegarde's rooms, he went out into the Place. 
 " What a fool I have been ! Confound that fellow 
 Baillie ; " when looking up, he burst out laughing. 
 There was that old gentleman; his appearance not 
 improved by a hard night and the garish light of 
 day, his wig awry, his complexion yellow, his teeth 
 chattering, his legs unsteady, determined not to give 
 in ; but chirping cheerfully about " better luck to- 
 morrow. My new system, Mr. Dayrell, will win it 
 all back at roulette." 
 
 Six hours' sleep, — if that could be called sleep, 
 when shadowy forms of kings, queens, and aces 
 danced wildly in the air, — when the ears rung with the 
 exclamations of the players, — when the winning card 
 seemed to leap from the pack, but the stakes were 
 detained by some hidden power, or melted in the 
 grasp, the dreamer knowing not why or wherefore, — 
 when the body turned from side to side of the bed 
 and the head sought in vain a cool place on the 
 pillow — and when the sun shining bright, scarcely 
 dimmed by the white curtains, made the sleeper open 
 his eyes every quarter of an hour to close them again 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 183 
 
 with a weary, dreary feeling of disgust. Awake, but 
 with ideas misty and undefined, Dayrell saw his 
 watch unwound by his bedside, the hair chain re- 
 clining in the ash of a half-smoked cigar; some 
 small change, evidently emptied out of his pocket in 
 haste, and a paper, with hieroglyphics supposed to 
 represent figures. The last recalled, too vividly, the 
 scene of last evening. 
 
 '^ How utterly foolish I Ve been," he said, when 
 sitting up in his bed and sipping the coffee the waiter 
 had just brought. " How could I play at all, much 
 less lose such a sum? Here's Bellegarde's name. 
 I owe him 180/., and how am I to pay it?'' He 
 thought for a few minutes, when he remembered 
 Baillie's parting words. " No," he continued, " I 
 won't write to Tales to-day, or apply to that good 
 mother of mine, until I have tried my luck once 
 more. There are still enough Napoleons in that 
 drawer. I will meet my creditors cheerfully — go to 
 the table to-night — try Baillie's system; and, hah, 
 hah, * win it all back.' " 
 
 He might meet his creditors cheerfully, and make 
 them believe he did not care ; but there was one to 
 whom he did not owe money, but something infinitely 
 more precious, — one who would examine more closely 
 the cause of his unnatural gaiety. Meet a pretty 
 girl, they say, for the first time at a ball, a dinner 
 
 N 4 
 
184 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 party, or a pic-nic, and a man needs some power of 
 speech to make her a listener. Let the same girl be 
 engaged, or let her merely have selected one on 
 whom to turn her heaviest artillery, and mark the 
 difference. From that moment his every word is 
 weighed, his every look is watched. He lives, so to 
 speak, in a glass case; a searching eye peers through 
 and through nature^s bulwark — the outer man. The 
 individual has yet to be born, whose acting can really 
 deceive the woman who loves. Thus Emily perceived 
 instantly the change in his manner. She felt there 
 was something wrong, and hoped by treating him 
 coldly to discover his secret. There was something 
 between her love and him, she could not tell what ; 
 but her altered behaviour did not elicit a clue to the 
 mystery. 
 
 A fete on a minor scale was celebrated that day at 
 Ems. For it the country people came " to town,'^ 
 and in the absence of other amusements flocked to 
 the Kursaal and roulette. The fashionable visitors 
 were also present. Here was Bellegarde, and there 
 Sir Henry, the latter moving uneasily from group to 
 group like a troubled spirit, not playing himself, but 
 teazing every body that did. Baillie, of course, was 
 there ; but he had hoisted his signal of distress, to 
 wit, the blue cloak of Waterloo memory. He had 
 not a thaler left. But was he unhappy? Not he. 
 
WILD DATRELL. 185 
 
 He lived in hopes that he would yet break the bank 
 with the very newest and the very latest system 
 invented. The old man still wielded the pin of 
 approved pattern, sharpened point, and malachite 
 knob, with which, for six long years, he had regis- 
 tered the winning blacks and reds. He had kept a 
 weekly, monthly, and annual account. No mer- 
 chant's ledger was so neatly copied ; and the result 
 —a system infallible, only requiring a proper capital 
 to work successfully. By the bye, nine of his 
 systems had already gone the way of all flesh, and 
 been discarded. The one he now cherished was 
 built on the ruins of the Mortui ; in it had the old 
 prophet verily put his trust. 
 
 Baillie's hearty and cheerful welcome a man of a 
 suspicious turn of mind might have misinterpreted. 
 It savoured strongly of the art of borrowing, and 
 Baillie, as all but the wilfully blind and deaf knew, 
 was not above that. But in this case he aimed at 
 higher game, viz., to persuade Dayrell to test his 
 newest and latest system. To this end, it was first 
 necessary to explain away the mistakes of the pre- 
 vious night. " You lost 200/. last night, did you ? " 
 he said to Dayrell, " and I the same, unfortunately. 
 It was our own fault, we were too rash. It was not 
 the game to banco the sixth time. It was sixty to 
 one against our winning. But we shall do better 
 
186 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 to-night. Monsieur Garcia at Homburg, and Madame 
 Adrienne at Baden, have discovered how to break 
 the bank three times a-week, and I know it. Yes; 
 we will do the same. For two million francs, the 
 proprietor of the Homburg bank sent to Paris to pay 
 Monsieur Garcia. We will be content with that, 
 eh ? Some of these boys here learnt his system. 
 They tried it, and won for a time, but becoming im- 
 patient played rashly and lost everything. It is 
 
 thus " and Baillie commenced an exposition of 
 
 his theory, making frequent references to his printed 
 cards, and telling off his conclusions on his fingers — 
 most puzzling to a person not sufficiently sagacious 
 to discover the one wanting link. " Did you ever 
 see such luck ? *' he said, calling Dayrell's attention 
 to the table ; " the third time, upon my honour ! " 
 A countryman had elbowed his way to the front. 
 On the single zero he had put a pile of copper coins, 
 representing the lowest stake allowed by the pro- 
 prietors. The lynx-eyed raked together the coins, 
 counted contemptuously, and replaced them on the 
 round 0. Ball revolved with energy more than 
 ordinary, dallied longer with pigeon-holes unwilling 
 to receive it, and finally bivouacked in the country- 
 man's number. Pile of silver is thrust towards him. 
 " Again, the zero, if you please ! " he cries, adding 
 a few words of playful badinage for the special be- 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 187 
 
 hoof of the lynx-eyed. Ball runs quicker than ever, 
 hops, jumps, skips, and stops suddenly. Croupier 
 has to stretch his hand, and check the inner wheel. 
 It is in — zero. '' Once more," calls the excited win- 
 ner. Ball receives an extra push, rattles, threatens 
 to take a fence, and land on the green sward this 
 side the table, seems to spectators as though it never 
 would stop, rolls in and out, in and out — slower, 
 slower, till, for the third time, it glides into zero. 
 Wriggles on his high stool, as his custom is, the 
 lynx-eyed; countryman retires, gesticulating franti- 
 cally, and receiving an ovation from the multitude, 
 some of whom will presently borrow a gulden from 
 him, as they will say, for luck. 
 
 From Baillie burst a sigh of regret, because he had 
 reaped no advantage from such a remarkable coin- 
 cidence. His melancholy was, however, quickly dis- 
 pelled. His system was on trial, the interest evoked 
 by that was all absorbing ; but, as the theory is un- 
 likely to be serviceable to futui'e visitors of German 
 baths, an elaborate detail is unnecessary. Suffice it 
 to say — first, that Dayrell's capital was forty Napo- 
 leons ; secondly, that this was to be divided by eight; 
 and, thirdly, that Baillie would select the numbers 
 on which the quotient fixed should be placed. Once 
 in eight times the right number would turn up, at 
 least so said the prophet. The game proceeded : the 
 
188 WILD DATRELL. 
 
 croupier worked his rake indefatigably — DayrelVs 
 money was being rapidly absorbed into tbe piles of 
 tempting coins representing the bank. His faith 
 wavered, and he looked at Baillie, who, spectral-like, 
 pointed with his finger to a number. " I won't do 
 it," said DayrelL petulantly ; " these five Napoleons 
 are my last, and I wonH do so." " Only this once,'' 
 supplicated Baillie so piteously ; " try it but this 
 once, it must come.'' But pleading was in vain: 
 DayrelFs Napoleons were thrown on the black. The 
 red won, the number came according to Baillie's 
 prophecy, and the rake brought to the bank the last 
 stake. The old man hid his face in his hands, he 
 groaned, and, if the fountains of his eyes had not 
 been utterly dried, for the first time these twenty 
 years he would have burst into tears. 
 
 Eetribution follows swiftly on the track of the 
 gambler : sad is the morrow of the man who has left 
 his last thaler in the croupier's hands. His is the 
 deadening feehng that Life is a mistake, — when the 
 bright sky appears of a leaden hue — when the joyous 
 river and hill side form a dreary landscape — when the 
 distempered fancy converts a smile into a scowl — and 
 when champagne and claret, erst so gladdening, only 
 add to his gloom. At no moment of his life does a 
 man more earnestly long to " flee from himself." In 
 such a mood awoke Dayrell the morning succeeding the 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 189 
 
 affair at ttie Kursaal. Besides the loss of the money^ 
 which he knew not how to make good, he had other 
 reasons for wishing the past undone. Emily had 
 heard a version of the story, founded, like scandal 
 generally, on fact, but exaggerated in detail. No 
 sooner did his eye meet hers than he felt that his 
 secret was known. He knew her horror of gambling, 
 and the forced smile he had assumed on entering the 
 room froze on his lips. " Shall I tell her all, and ask 
 her pardon ? or shall I laugh it off as a matter of no 
 consequence ?" he thought. He had not time to do 
 either, for Mrs. Trelawney unluckily entered, and 
 beckoned him into the balcony. 
 
 "It would not be right for us to conceal,^' she said, 
 " what we have heard about you. They have told us 
 a shocking story about the Kursaal,^' and she gave 
 an exaggerated account of Bellegarde's party, and 
 the roulette, and finished by asking point-blank 
 whether it was true. 
 
 Although Dayrell was not in the best of tempers, 
 when he came to the Trelawney's rooms, yet he might 
 have confessed to Emily, and there would have been 
 an end of the matter. But, when questioned by the 
 mother in this way, his feathers were ruffled, and he 
 answered, " That he did not see what difference it 
 could make to anybody ; that he certainly had lost a 
 little, but it was a very trifling matter." 
 
190 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 "But it is no trifling matter/' Mrs. Trelawney 
 broke in. " I object to it on principle, for I know 
 what it leads to. Gambling ruined my poor brother, 
 as it must everybody who has to do with it. I tell 
 you, Mr. Dayrell, plainly, that Emily shall never 
 have my consent to marry a man who plays at cards, 
 much less one who haunts the public tables." 
 
 " You are quite unreasonable this afternoon," he 
 said. " All the world play whist, and most of the 
 people play roulette, at least, they do so when they 
 come to these German watering places, and they are 
 not all ruined. For the life of me, I cannot see any 
 harm in a quiet game in another man's rooms." 
 
 " One leads to the other, Mr. Dayrell. You know 
 that your seance may begin with a quiet game, but 
 what does it end with ? Ecarte, perhaps — lansquenet, 
 not unlikely. I am quite sure of this. My brother 
 told me as much, and warned me a hundred times 
 against men who defended a quiet game of cards. 
 You will think over what I 've said ; and mind, 1 
 expect you to give me a promise, never to play 
 again." 
 
 "A promise!" echoed Dayrell, as he left the hotel, 
 fuming at the bare notion of such a thing. "A 
 promise to pay to Bellegarde is another affair ; but to 
 tell my future mother-in-law that I will never touch 
 a card again ; bah ! nonsense. I cease to be a free 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 191 
 
 agent at once. I have a spy eternally set over me. 
 She will have an excuse for attending my afternoon 
 walks, and haunting the card-room afterwards to see 
 that her dear Edward does not transgress. Gad ! I 
 might as well be tied to her apron strings at once." 
 Here Bailhe, who was taking that modicum of air, 
 supposed by him to be sufficient to clear his smoke- 
 dried lungs, viz., a walk of 400 yards from his lodg- 
 ings to the Kursaal, once per diem, happened to 
 meet him, and offering an arm, received Dayrell's 
 disclosures with the calmness of a man who lived 
 perpetually in hot water, but, somehow, always 
 managed to escape serious damage. " With regard 
 to the first point, you are done, my boy," said 
 Baillie, " if you give in to a woman. Let her once 
 get the mastery, and life will be a burden, that 
 lady's society a bore. This, in your case, is the 
 thin end of the wedge that they in such a hurry 
 always love to insert. You are not to do this, she 
 says, to-day, and you must not do that to-morrow ; 
 you promise not to hunt any more, because it is 
 dangerous ; and you won't shoot a^ain, because you 
 might catch a bad cold ; till, by Jove, Sir, on some 
 pretext, or other, you are deprived of every amuse- 
 ment, and they have gained their point — reduced 
 you to the level of an amiable sheep-dog, fit to 
 fetch and carry, fetch a cab in the middle of hail. 
 
192 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 rain, and snow, or carry, like poor Meek the other 
 day, a barrel of oysters from Temple Bar to the top 
 of Regent Street, to the delight of the small boys, 
 and the disgust of the cab-stand ; for his wife, mind 
 you, had made him promise not to incur the expense 
 of an eighteen-penny ride. Bellegarde^s case is 
 different. There you may promise, and your promise 
 will be as good as your bond." This was a long 
 speech for the old campaigner; but he was on his 
 favourite theme. He had thoroughly worked it out, 
 and boasted that his advice had rendered many a 
 hesitating juvenile proof against the persuasive asr 
 saults of women. 
 
 The pair dined in company that evening, when the 
 old man revelled in the past, teUing stories, aad 
 shifting the scene from one European Capitol to 
 another. 
 
 ''It is nine o'clock," said Dayrell, returning his 
 watch to his pocket. " It is time for me to go up- 
 stairs. Adieu, till to-morrow." 
 
 "Good night," said Baillie, hobbling off; "but, 
 remember, don't do it. Listen to an old man^s 
 advice — make no promise." 
 
 " He is right," said Dayrell to himself, as he left 
 the dining-room. " I'll promise nothing." Fortified 
 with this resolution, he was on the point of proceed- 
 ing to the Trelawney's rooms, which were on the 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 193 
 
 second floor, when he heard a shriek of the most 
 thrilling, piercing character, and coming from the flat 
 they occupied. He hurried upstairs. On gaining the 
 landing, he met a figure so enveloped in flames, that 
 its mortal identity could not be discovered, save by 
 the waving of its two arms, and the hands clutching 
 at burning portions of its dress. He took off his 
 coat, wrapt it about the body, and with his hands 
 tore off fragments of the gown. Others came to his 
 assistance, some bringing druggets, some water, some 
 blankets, — the first things, in fact, they could find ; 
 while more than one person went in search of doctors. 
 In five minutes the flames were extinguished, the 
 last vestiges of smouldering embers trampled under 
 foot, and the poor victim carried to the nearest bed- 
 room. The usual remedies were instantly applied, 
 but without alleviating the intense agony of the 
 patient. The doctors arrived, and during their ex- 
 amination and consultation, the others left the room. 
 " Ah, poor thing," they said to the groups assembled 
 in the passage ; '^ it must have been the candle which 
 caught her sleeve, for her neck and shoulders are so 
 dreadfully burnt ; besides, we found it alight on her 
 table, when we first went in.^' The doctors, their 
 consultation over, looked serious, and declined 
 answering questions. They only left instructions 
 with the four ladies, who volunteered to watch, 
 
 o 
 
194 WILD DAYHELL. 
 
 respecting the proper course of treatment to be 
 used. 
 
 Dayrell, in the meantime, burnt and half-suffo- 
 cated by the smoke^ had fainted. They put him on 
 a sofa in the adjoining room, and his attendants at 
 first thought that his case was a serious one. For 
 an hour he remained unconscious, when he opened 
 his eyes, turned on his side, and struggled to collect 
 his thoughts. 
 
 ^' Who is it ? " he asked of the maid, who stood 
 by him. " Who is it, I say ? It is not . . . . '' 
 and the name seemed to stick in his throat. 
 
 " The doctor said you must be quiet," replied the 
 maid, " and not excite yourself/^ 
 
 " It is her. I am sure that's her, I hear — I know 
 it is," he exclaimed, starting from the sofa. " Here, 
 dress these hands, put my arm in a sling — I will go 
 and see." The maid, seeing that further resistance 
 would be useless, did as he wished. 
 
 He entered the room during one of the paroxysms 
 of pain that occasionally convulsed the sufferer. 
 Two ladies were holding her in the bed, another had 
 some medicine in her hand, and a fourth a basin of 
 flour, which she was liberally applying to the burns. 
 The paroxysm over, the sufferer relapsed into a 
 sleepy, half-dreaming state, her heavy breathing 
 being the only sign of life. Dayrell felt shocked, 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 195 
 
 and sick at heart, the instant he saw the ravages of 
 the fire, partially concealed though they were by the 
 layers of wool, and her eyes so fixed and unlifelike — 
 never closed even when she slumbered, but turned 
 upwards, as if in mute prayer for relief. This feeling, 
 however, the necessity for active exertion on his part 
 somewhat mitigated. The pain again shoots through 
 her limbs. He helps to hold her in the bed until, 
 exhausted, she sinks back upon her pillow. Now 
 her thoughts are wandering — she is in dream-land. 
 She fancies herself in her native county in the north 
 of England. She is walking with her governess by 
 the banks of the Croquet ; at that lady's request she 
 repeats some lines, at first, glibly, then slower, then 
 dwelling doubtfully on each word, as though memory 
 was failing her, when a sudden twinge of pain recalls 
 the fire. She springs forward in the bed. ^^Oh, 
 put it out — put it out,'* she cries, and her struggles 
 are fearful to witness. The ladies call her by name, 
 speak soothingly, and administer medicine. Once 
 more she is quiet, and in the land of dreams. " Will 
 he come, do you think?" she asks, and her eyes 
 glance round the room. " He did not play, I tell 
 you, — I know he did not. What right had that 
 deceitful servant to tell us so ? But he will come 
 this evening to see us ; no, to see me. He will 
 explain all, and we shall be so happy. Yes, he will 
 o2 
 
106 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 come. I hear him on the stairs, I said he'd 
 come. Here he is to save me — to save me — from 
 this agony. Oh, my poor head — oh, my poor 
 head." 
 
 " You had better leave the room," whispered one 
 of the ladies to Dayrell, "and return when she is 
 calmer ; " but he shook his head gloomily, and signi- 
 fied his intention to remain. Never did man pass a 
 more weary night, when time moved so lazily, that 
 minutes seemed prolonged into hours ; when feverish 
 anxiety, the throbbing heart, the sickening, suiBPo- 
 cating sensation in the throat, combined to unhinge 
 the whole nervous system. It would be difficult to 
 say which was the hardest to bear, — ^the delirious 
 ravings of the sufferer, or the deep silence, when 
 the attendants, for fear of disturbing her, forbore to 
 whisper. Hark ! during one of these quiet intervals, 
 there is a knock at the door. A feeling of relief 
 succeeds. It is the doctor. He approaches the bed 
 noiselessly, and examines the patient. The ladies 
 converse with him in whispers, ask him questions 
 in bated breath, and attempt to gather hope from 
 some chance expression he may use. This visit for 
 the nonce removes a load from each breast. The 
 doctor retires, and the watchers again relapse into a 
 melancholy train of thought. During those intervals 
 how changed, how humbled, felt Dayrell. In that 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 197 
 
 presence, and in that bed-chamber, the artificial 
 crust of his selfishness was broken, his short-sighted 
 views of life were dissolved. Selfish ! Yes ; worse 
 than that he had been, to break his promise, to be 
 only intent on the turn of a card, or of a number ; 
 when one loving heart bled for him, and only- 
 thought how she might best exonerate or forgive 
 the act. How insignificant, how trifling did loss of 
 money, reputation, did anything appear to the chance 
 of having forfeited such love as hers. He had run 
 that risk, and he positively loathed himself. He 
 would have given all he had to undo the irrevocable 
 past j but an accusing conscience has firm vantage- 
 ground, and its punishment is more severe, because 
 such a boon is denied to mortal man. A reaction, 
 however, sets in — calmer, purer aspirations succeed. 
 " If she is only spared," he thinks, — " and she will be 
 spared,'* he mutters confidently, — " this lesson shall 
 never be forgotten. I will make amends not by 
 promises, but by deeds." 
 
 The first beams of the morning sun shine upon the 
 blinds. The candles in very shame flicker in the 
 sockets. The night-watch is at an end, and that of 
 day begins. The faces of those who stand about the 
 bed may be pale and haggard ; dark rings may 
 encircle their eyes; a tear or two may glisten beneath 
 their eyelids ; but the indomitable courage of woman 
 o3 
 
198 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 holds out to the last. What ? give up the post of 
 duty to others. Not they. They will tend the poor 
 sufferer to the last, knowing not fatigue ; they will 
 satisfy her every want, ignoring any inconvenience 
 to themselves. Heaven bless them for thus vindi- 
 cating the moral strength of their sex. Bless them, 
 we say, who, when man is utterly prostrated by 
 the blow, step forward, and unhesitatingly fill the 
 breach. The light falls on this chamber of sorrow. 
 The curtains are drawn. The sun is just peering 
 from behind those wooded hills, and throwing deep 
 shadows as far as the opposite bank. Mist gently 
 disengages itself from the bosom of the Lahn, 
 covering the valley with transitory vapour. Nature, 
 in its own quiet way, is awake ; but all Ems sleepeth, 
 
 save the devoted band in Hotel . Emily's 
 
 paroxysms become less frequent, and, as the morn- 
 ing advances, cease altogether. The uninitiated 
 believe this to be a good sign, but those in the con- 
 fidence of the doctors recognise the beginning of 
 the end, the commencement of mortification about 
 to devour its victim silently, and inch by inch. As 
 the pain ceases, her consciousness returns. She 
 begins to talk a little, and she understands all they 
 tell her. " Move my bed nearer the window," she 
 asks ; " it seems such a lovely day. I would like to 
 see our pretty valley once more," and she tries her 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 199 
 
 old cheerful smile, but it will not do; the attempt 
 is feeble and sickly — it dies frozen-like upon the 
 lips. 
 
 It is past mid- day, and a great change has taken 
 place. Her colour is of deeper hue, the expression 
 of her face is altered, foreshadowing the end. She 
 is quite calm now : she knows the worst. They have 
 broken it to her by degrees. She is out of pain, and 
 the grim destroyer is stealthily entering the citadel, 
 which may she vacate with all the honours of war. 
 The clergyman has visited her, and left her in a 
 peaceful frame of mind. She has but one more 
 word to say — one more person to address. Her 
 faithful attendants know this by instinct, and leave 
 the room singly. Edward — her Edward — is alone 
 with her, holding her hand in his, and, like a very 
 child, unable to restrain his tears. 
 
 " Edward, dearest, you must not," she said slowly 
 and softly ; " you must not take it so to heart. I am 
 out of pain now, and, with you, I feel so quiet and 
 happy. Perhaps, dearest, it is better as it is — better 
 for me not to recover ; for the doctors say that the 
 pain during my recovery would be greater than all I 
 have hitherto suffered. I might not be able to en- 
 dure so much. Besides, I should be so altered, so 
 disfigured, you would hardly know me. Then, out 
 of pure compassion, you might express the same re- 
 o 4 
 
200 WILD DAYEELL. 
 
 gard for me ; but when you compared me with other 
 ladies, you might repent of what you had done ; and 
 that I could not endure. No, Edward, it is better as 
 it is — better to part before we had quarelled, and 
 before we had found out our mutual faults. If, 
 dearest, you should marry another — ah ! you say you 
 never can, and I am selfish enough to hope it too — 
 if you do, I only trust she may prove a better wife 
 than I should have made. Don't make any rash 
 promise which you may repent hereafter. Time and 
 circumstances will soften your grief, and then some 
 one may come worthy to take my place. Yes, there 
 is one promise I should like you to make. You re- 
 member the quiet corner I showed you last Sunday 
 in the churchyard, where the willow is; I should like 
 to be buried there, as it cannot be in England, and 
 you must plant some of my favourite flowers. You 
 will do that, dearest, will you not ? And now I am 
 beginning to feel so tired. I should so like, as I go 
 to sleep, to hear you say a prayer for me ; you know 
 the one I mean, taken from the twelfth chapter of 
 the Hebrews." 
 
 And while the sands of life were running out, he, 
 with faltering voice, read as she wished. Once more 
 she slept, and when next she awoke she must have 
 felt that her end was near, for she thanked the ladies 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 201 
 
 who had attended her for their kindness, and gave 
 them some of her trinkets as keepsakes. " It will 
 soon be over/^ she answered to one who suggested a 
 hope of her recovery. "I shall never see the sun 
 rise again. I am out of pain now, and you all know 
 how thankful I ought to be and am for that.'^ 
 Poor Emily was right. Mortification had set in : 
 the Destroyer was already preparing for his last 
 assault. A torpor presently came over her : then 
 yhe sank into a deep sleep, but so peaceful and 
 /noiseless that none of those, who with tearful eyes 
 if surrounded her bed, knew the moment when that 
 meek spirit passed away unto Him who gave it. 
 
 On the day of the funeral more than half the 
 population of Ems joined the procession. Emily's 
 grave was in the corner of the churchyard, in the 
 place she had selected, and as the coffin was lowered 
 to its resting place, there was scarcely a dry eye in 
 all that crowd ; and, as the earth fell with a hollow 
 sound on the coffin, and the clergyman uttered the 
 solemn warning words, ^' Earth to earth, and ashes to 
 ashes," the very foreigner seemed to catch their 
 meaning. They made the same impression as those 
 of Christopher Wordsworth once did when, in Win- 
 chester Chapel, he preached the funeral sermon of a 
 boy, who, in the heyday of youth and spirits, had 
 
202 WILD DAYEELL. 
 
 been carried off by fever. I can remember the re- 
 gulated cadences of tbat impassioned voice, speaking 
 amid a silence almost oppressive, and before the 
 saints, who from their niches seemed to our heated 
 imagination to look down approvingly — when the 
 hand of the sacrilegious carver of his name on the 
 oak panelling was arrested — when the sleeper raised 
 his head from the reading-desk to stare open-mouthed 
 at the preacher — when the chorister ceased to turn 
 the pages of his anthem-book — and when a sigh of 
 relief broke from all at those words, " Earth to earth, 
 ashes to ashes, dust to dust/* Moistened was many 
 an eye, we know, and touched was many a careless 
 heart, for those words haunted — yes, followed — each 
 boy from the chapel to the school-room, from the 
 school-room to the bed-room, and caused many an 
 improvised, but heartfelt, prayer to ascend that night 
 to the throne of the Creator. 
 
 On the right bank of the Rhone, near Avignon, are 
 the graves of two lovers, who, on their wedding-day, 
 were drowned in crossing the river. By a lake in 
 the Pyrenees they show the last resting-place of a 
 newly-married pair, whose boat upset, and both lives 
 were sacrificed sooner than that one should survive 
 the other. Both these are covered with immortelles 
 — gratuitous offerings of the peasantry, who likewise 
 take care that spring or summer there shall be no 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 203 
 
 lack of flowers. So about the stone, with the simple 
 inscription E. T., the people of Ems have planted 
 roses and evergreens. They will allow no weeds to 
 grow, but keep up the little slip of garden, as though 
 one of their own family slept beneath. 
 
204 WILD DATRELL. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 "You are always moping, my dear Dayrell; I never 
 met any one half so triste. Isn't the play at Baden 
 high enough, or isn't there a girl in all this crowd 
 pretty enough for you ? or do you want a change ? 
 The season here will soon be over, and then I'm off 
 to my chateau in the Gironde. Will you come 
 there ? You will meet those young Parisian stars, 
 Magnan,La Foix,and Latour,also D'Alen9on, Colonel, 
 and of Crimean celebrity, last, not least, my little 
 nephew Villars, the best boy in our department. I 
 am tired of this myself ; tired of meeting old Baillie 
 every day. He looks so mournfully at me, that is 
 to say, when he does not avoid me altogether. You 
 see, — mind, I tell you this in confidence, — he came 
 one morning to my room, and told me that for six 
 weeks he had tasted nothing but bread and water, 
 that his wife and children in England were in great 
 distress, and had written to him to come home ; and 
 that if I would lend him 500 francs, he would be so 
 much obliged, &c. Flesh and blood could not resist 
 
WILD DAYUELL. SOS' 
 
 such an appeal. I lent him the money, I really- 
 hoped that he would go home, and that we should 
 see him no more. I suppose he has been trying one 
 of his latest ' systems/ lost his money, and is again 
 in his normal state of insolvency. But seriously, 
 Dayrell, will you join us in a fortnight ? There will 
 be some shooting for you, a wolf hunt, a dance, 
 probably, with native beauty — a novelty that, for you 
 used-up men. Now, what do you say ? " 
 
 '^ Accepted with pleasure. Monsieur le Comte. I 
 am going to Pan for the winter, and shall be happy 
 to take your chateau on my road." 
 
 More than a year and a half has elapsed since poor 
 Emily's death. Dayrell has been half over Europe 
 since then. He has been to Milan, Venice, Florence, 
 Rome, Naples, and a hundred other places, partly 
 with the view of distracting his thoughts, and partly 
 because he didn't know what to do with himself. 
 He has been staying at Baden for a few weeks, 
 when he met an old friend, the Count d'Artois, and 
 having received this invitation to visit his country- 
 house, the wanderer packed his portmanteau, and 
 left for France. 
 
 Now, when a man asks you to his chateau, you 
 naturally expect to see something out of the way in 
 residences. The mansion itself ought to be old, and 
 should have the extinguisher towers of the fifteenth 
 
206 WILD DATEELL. 
 
 century. There should be extensive wings, capable 
 of housing any number of domestics. There ought 
 to be an entrance-hall, hung with armour, or trophies 
 of the chase, and a curiously grained staircase lead- 
 ing to tapestried apartments, and the banqueting- 
 haU — ^never leave that out, please, in your calcula- 
 tions. Then the gardens should be stocked with 
 fruit and flower, swans also should breast the stream 
 in all the pride of feathery whiteness ; or, supposing 
 the chateau to be a modem building, there should 
 be an old castle, keep, and moat handy, and a chapel 
 within which we might see the recumbent figure of 
 an old crusader or two, or of a knight, who fell 
 fighting manfully under the banner of his beloved 
 Henri, but who now slumbers under a marble slab 
 with some expressive epitaph, like " Fortissimo" on 
 it. But he who expects to see this, will, in the 
 majority of cases, be grievously disappointed. 
 
 The chateau of the Count d'Artois in the depart- 
 ment of the Garonne was " a severe imposition." 
 Viewed at a distance, with its commanding position 
 on the side of a long low ridge of hills, its imposing 
 front, tall pointed roofs and towers, extensive wings 
 and outbuildings, it looked every inch a palace. A 
 nearer approach, however, revealed its many defi- 
 ciencies. At the entrance to the domain there was 
 no lodge and iron gates, but only two lichen- covered 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 207 
 
 pillars, to which were fastened a couple of wattles, 
 which the stranger had to remove out of his way as 
 best he could. Then the grounds were encumbered 
 with straggling wood, hollow at the bottom, and 
 hardly likely to pay for the clearing. Coarse grass 
 waved on the lawn in the place of the green verdure 
 of old England, and entwined itself so with wild 
 rose bushes and hawthorns, that a divorce a vinculo 
 seemed impossible. 
 
 Dayrell did not think much of his new quarters, as 
 he drove his tired horse through the grounds and up 
 the avenue (yes, we forgot there was an avenue, the 
 only decent thing about the place), and still less when 
 he entered the court-yard formed by the two wings of 
 the chateau. There was the inevitable fountain in 
 the middle, which, perhaps, threw up jets of water 
 once on a time, but was now choked with weeds, 
 thick enough to cover the image of a marine goddess, 
 whom time or mischief had thrown from her pedestal 
 into the basin. Sickly blades of grass sprouted from 
 between the flagstones, and the very creepers bent 
 towards the ground, in quiet despair of ever scaling 
 the house without the aid of leather and nails. Then 
 the wings of the chateau showed many signs of dila- 
 pidation. Few of the windows had curtains inside ; 
 most of them had broken panes of glass. '' It is a 
 queer establishment,^' thought Dayrell ; " the best 
 
208 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 thing I've seen as yet is the view to the south. If 
 that old waiter, who declared that he had not left 
 London these twenty years, and sighed in his hot 
 coffee-room for one ' bit of nature * before he died, 
 could have seen this, his life might have been pro- 
 longed beyond the three score years and ten allotted 
 to man." 
 
 ^' What are you thinking about, and why don't you 
 come in ?" interrupted the cheery host, as good at 
 the English language as his own, thanks to a pro- 
 longed residence in England. "Three days after 
 time, and yet you stand in the yard and deprive us 
 still longer of the pleasure of your company. Le 
 Colonel D'Alen9on, Messieurs Latour, Magnan, La 
 Foix, and my nephew Villars, let me introduce 
 Mons. Dayrell. Now come upstairs at once, I will 
 show you your room. By the bye, there are not too 
 many that are habitable in this house. Here we 
 are ; large enough is it not ? In your Leicestershire 
 language you will call it a forty-acred enclosure. 
 Now, no dress or ceremony ; just make yourself com- 
 fortable, and, as you see we ignore those modern 
 inventions, bells, call when you are ready, and I will 
 conduct you to the state apartments of my chateau." 
 
 '^ Very hospitable ; but who would have believed 
 that a particular man like the Count would have 
 lived in a tumble- down place like this ? It is good 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 209 
 
 enough, however, for a shooting-box. If the others 
 are content to rough it, I am sure I am. The cook 
 too will, perhaps, make up for these short-comings,'^ 
 thought Dayrell, as he followed the Count to the 
 state room of the chateau, surnamed the Octagon. 
 But the cuisine was the rock on which the Count 
 more particularly split : it was worse than indifferent 
 — it was positively bad. How is such a thing pos- 
 sible in the land of cooks? Not easily explained, 
 unless it is because chefs are too volatile and extra- 
 vagant for private establishments, and can only be 
 tolerated in public — still the fact remains. The soup 
 was thin — hot water with slices of bread in it — the 
 entrees were steeped in that abominable brown sauce, 
 and the joint was cold. The wine, too, at dinner was 
 ordinaire; the Chambertin and champagne being 
 kept for dessert, and when most people^s minds were 
 set on cigars and cigarettes. 
 
 "A glass of champagne, and a welcome to the 
 chateau," said the host to Dayrell as the cloth was 
 removed. " Shall we all move to the fire and smoke 
 our cigars ?" 
 
 "My uncle is going to tell the ghost story," 
 whispered Villars to Dayrell. 
 
 " You don't mean to say the chateau is haunted ?" 
 
 "Is it not?" replied little Villars. "Wait till 
 midnight and see." 
 
210 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 " Everybody who visits the chateau/' said the 
 Count, " wonders why it is in such bad repair, and 
 why, as it is our family place, we do not use it for 
 something else than a hunting-box. To tell the 
 truth, I have no affection for it, any more than you 
 will, when you have heard a story I intend to tell 
 you, and a tragical occurrence which happened in 
 this very room seventy years ago. 
 
 " At the time of the first Revolution, my father 
 was the largest proprietor, and the most influential, 
 if not the most popular, man in the department of 
 the Garonne. He made this chateau his home. He 
 hunted and shot, was hospitable to his neighbours, 
 and did much more for his tenants and the poor than 
 was the habit of our forefathers. At such a distance 
 from Paris, it was scarcely possible for him to hear 
 all that was going on previous to poor Louis XVI 
 being turned out of house and home. Consequently, 
 the news of the king's imprisonment came upon him 
 like a thunderbolt. He hoped, as others did, that 
 his popularity would save him from the fate that 
 threatened all who had a title, and who, in the neigh- 
 bourhood of Paris, were undergoing every species of 
 indignity and insult that popular caprice could inflict. 
 For four months after the imprisonment of the king, 
 my father and his young spouse (he had just 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 211 
 
 married his first wife) lived in a state of uncertainty, 
 but still very confident that the storm, like many 
 others, vrould eventually blow over. The effects, 
 however, of the Revolution began, ere long, to make 
 themselves felt in even the far-distant department of 
 the Garonne. First, the Count found his servants, 
 one by one, dropping away without any reason ; then, 
 when he rode into the country, he was met by sullen 
 looks, and even abuse, from some whose hearty bon- 
 jour formerly greeted him. Then he received letters 
 from Paris and the provinces describing the enor- 
 mities committed by the sans-culottes, the permanent 
 erection of the guillotine, the burning of chateaux, 
 and all the other horrors that the blood-thirsty Con- 
 vention let loose upon France. 
 
 ^^At the little town of Villeneuve, no great dis- 
 tance from here, lived my father's lawyer, a shrewd, 
 bold man, who, seeing the turn affairs were taking, 
 mounted the popular colours, and through his agents 
 at Paris was nominated mayor of his commune. No 
 sooner had he effected this object, than he proceeded 
 to carry out a plan that doubtless had for some time 
 been hatching in his brain. One day he came over 
 to the Count, and with well-feigned appearance of 
 regret, showed him a paper signed by the men in 
 power, commanding him, Deslandes, to imprison and 
 send to the capital any aristocrat that might be dis- 
 p2 
 
212 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 covered in his commune ; at the same time^ he repre- 
 sented how impossible it would be for him to avoid 
 the execution of his orders. My father was of course 
 thunderstruck at the intelUgence, and, more than all, 
 astonished at the source whence this imminent danger 
 came ; for he had on many occasions proved himself 
 a good friend to the notary, and even assisted him, 
 more than once, in the increase of his business. 
 Every argument was tried to change Deslandes's 
 resolution, but without success, until suddenly a new 
 idea seemed to strike the unscrupulous agent of the 
 national will. ^ You perceive,* he said, ' that I must 
 act up to my instructions ; but in doing so, I can 
 and will serve you, if you consent to foUow the only 
 course by which I can reconcile my duty to the state 
 with my gratitude to the individual. You and your 
 wife must leave the chateau in forty-eight hours ; you 
 must make your way to the sea coast, where a vessel 
 will be ready to receive you, and I will supply you 
 with a sum of money sufficient for your journey and 
 present maintenance in England. At the same time 
 you must make over your estates to me, and I will 
 transmit you, out of the receipts, an annual stipend. 
 Thus you will be more fortunate than most of your 
 other companions in misfortune, who have been only 
 too glad to escape with their lives.' In vain did this 
 new victim to the amenities of ' Fraternity ' strive to 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 213 
 
 ward off the impending blow. Deslandes knew his 
 power, and was inexorable. At last my father, 
 alarmed at the representations made to him of total 
 ruin, and perhaps of death to himself and his young 
 wife, agreed to the proposal, and prepared to act 
 upon it forthwith. 
 
 " By the influence and plans of Deslandes, every- 
 thing was satisfactorily arranged. My father and 
 his wife, after narrowly escaping detection in their 
 journey through the country, safely embarked on 
 board a small trading vessel, and were conveyed to 
 England. During their long stay there, they only 
 received one letter and one remittance from the 
 notary, and neither threats nor remonstrances could 
 ever induce that accomplished rascal to perform the 
 most important part of his bargain ; so that if my 
 father had not received much generous aid and as- 
 sistance from some English gentlemen (your health, 
 and your countrymen^ s, Dayrell), he would have been 
 reduced to the greatest penury and distress. Des- 
 landes, in the meantime, continued to perform his 
 functions as mayor of Villeneuve, and as an active 
 supporter of the Revolution. He harangued the 
 mob on every occasion, till he became, by his denun- 
 ciations of the rich, and the great power accorded to 
 him from head-quarters, the most dreaded agitator 
 and tyrant in this department. For a long time he 
 p3 
 
214 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 kept aloof from the chateau, contenting himself with 
 the collection of the rents, until after the downfall 
 of Robespierre he found himself gradually more 
 secure in his position, and the country less disturbed ; 
 he then, with his wife and daughter, left the village 
 of Villeneuve, and desecrated with his presence the 
 threshold of his injured benefactor. Mademoiselle 
 Deslandes was now a lovely girl of eighteen, in- 
 heriting all the national beauty of her grandmother, 
 an Irish lady, who had married a Frenchman at Bor- 
 deaux. As a child she was of course a great favourite 
 with her father, — in fact, was the only thing besides 
 money and power on which that worldly man lavished 
 his affection. The heart must have been made of 
 stone that could remain insensible to her beauty, to 
 judge at least from the portrait I have of her. You 
 shall all see the picture, and then you can form an idea 
 of the peculiar style of beauty she possessed. The 
 chateau, as perhaps you are not aware, has always 
 had the reputation of being haunted, arising, I think, 
 more from the noises of the horned owls, than 
 any supernatural agency; so if any of you should 
 hear anything strange in the night, you need not 
 start up and put a pistol ball through my windows 
 or walls. A few weeks after their domestication in 
 the house, Deslandes's two servants began to be 
 alarmed at hearing mysterious footsteps in the corr 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 215 
 
 rldor at night ; their terrors were of course laughed 
 at by the notary. At length, however, from a 
 window in the wings, the servants declared they dis- 
 tinctly saw what they described as a spectre in white 
 with a lamp in its hand, returning along the passage 
 that connects these rooms with the suite opposite. 
 Of course they raised an alarm, but as nothing could 
 be made out of it, Deslandes was still incredulous, 
 and simply procured other servants in the place of 
 those who would no longer remain. The new ser- 
 vants, however, were terrified by the same noises; 
 whereupon Deslandes, who was a bold man, deter- 
 mined to unravel the mystery. For this purpose he 
 loaded his double-barrelled gun, laid it on a table 
 before him, and took up his position at yonder fire- 
 place, after the family and servants had gone to rest. 
 " At the time I am speaking of, there was no wall 
 between this and the octagon room, the separation 
 being made by drapery only, that could be pulled 
 across, or left open, at pleasure. It was open on 
 this fatal occasion, so that a good view of the second 
 room might be obtained by the watcher. Deslandes 
 might have waited there some three hours, and was 
 already laughing in his sleeve at the absurd fancies 
 of his servants, when he distinctly heard the sound 
 of light footsteps in the corridor. He grasped his 
 gun on seeing a figure in white with a light in its 
 p 4 
 
216 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 hand enter through the doorway. He called out 
 first, and receiving no answer, pulled the trigger. 
 This must have missed its mark; but, quick as 
 thought, he fired the second barrel, and with a 
 scream the unfortunate somnambulist fell to the 
 ground. The notary rushed to the spot, and on 
 moving the drapery from the head of the figure, 
 recognised the features of his daughter, who, shot 
 through the brain, lay bleeding at his feet. 
 
 ^' A frightful scene ensued ; Deslandes, on making 
 the discovery, had fallen down beside his daughter, 
 and was actually covered with her blood. The ser- 
 tants with great difiiculty removed him to his room, 
 where for three days he raved in a delirium of 
 remorse and horror, when he gradually sank into a 
 state of melancholy madness, from which he never 
 recovered, but became the inmate of an asylum, 
 where he died. After the catastrophe the chateau 
 was shut up, and remained so until my father re- 
 turned to France in 1814, and under Royal warrant 
 received back the large estates alienated from him 
 by the decrees of the Convention and the duplicity 
 of Deslandes. Neither he nor I ever had the cou- 
 rage to commence repairing the damage time had 
 inflicted on the old house. Parbleu ! we are lucky 
 to have a few rooms that are anything like habitable, 
 considering how long they were left a prey to weather 
 
WILD DAYKELL. 217 
 
 and rats. You can see the mark of the first bullet 
 fired by Deslandes in the wall opposite, but as an 
 inspection of that after my story might disturb your 
 slumber, you may as well defer it till daylight. 
 Besides, you will all be called early to-morrow — four 
 o'clock precisely. My wolf-hounds are going to draw 
 some covers about fifteen miles from here, and if 
 you want a decent night's rest, you had better follow 
 my example and retire. Adios ! Bon soir, Messieurs. 
 Punctuality, if you please, to-morrow morning.'^ 
 
218 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The Leicestershire enclosure, as the Count called it, 
 was not the room to put an early riser. The wax 
 candle the servant brought made its gloomy recesses 
 still gloomier ; its acre-age was cold to the feet, and 
 perplexing to the sleeper awakened. When Dayrell 
 opened his eyes, and saw the melancholy dip, he 
 turned on his side, slept for five minutes more, and 
 then, with a hazy idea that there was something to 
 be done that day, jumped out of bed. Facilis de- 
 scensus averni, easy for him to get from his bed to 
 the candle ; sed super are gradum, very hard to grope 
 his way back into darkness without breaking his 
 shins over chairs, ottomans, or even his own boot 
 jack; and harder still to see a thing, unless he hap- 
 pened on the exact spot where it was. He drew 
 several covers before he found his socks, button 
 hook, leathers, and gloves, and when he ran his tops 
 to ground in a dark corner, his " who-hoop '* was one 
 of sorrow, on his foot coming in contact with spurs 
 hidden inside. Such difficulties were all the more 
 
WILD DAYEELL. 219 
 
 provoking, as he wished that day to astonish the 
 French with the neatness of his toilet. He was in 
 the hall, however, as soon as the rest, and better 
 dressed and fresher than any ; for Latour and Magnan 
 had played picquet all night, d'Alen9on had slept in 
 a chair, and De Vismes looked unwashed, and was 
 most certainly unshaved. Dayrell expected some 
 coffee before their long drive, but none being offered, 
 he took a light from the Count's regalia, and smoked 
 like the rest. 
 
 The morning was so dark that the servant had to 
 bring a lantern to light them into the break, and so 
 cold, that nobody talked, not even Villars, the 
 youngest of the party, who just before in the hall 
 had whispered to Dayrell his determination of " cut- 
 ting down '' in the run that French triumvirate, of 
 whom he further spoke in words disparaging, " They 
 can't get over two fences, no, not if they are tied to 
 their horses." But as the day dawned the party 
 woke up, and by the time they had arrived at the 
 inn where their hunters had been sent the previous 
 evening, Latour and Magnan had rattled their r's 
 in Gallic fashion, and drawn their hunting-knives 
 across the throats of at least nine imaginary wolves. 
 
 The cover was about three miles beyond the inn. 
 If drawing for a fox, the hounds would have been 
 thrown into it in a body ; but so true is the nose, so 
 
220 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 good are the ears of tlie wolf, that if the same tactics 
 were pursued with him he would be in the next de- 
 partment before the pack opened. So Chasseloup, 
 the Count's dapper little huntsman, worked craftily. 
 He learned from the peasantry where the animal was 
 likely to be found. Thither he sent one of his 
 blouse-clad aides-de-camp with half a sheep. The 
 scent of this attracted the wolf; he dined, and where 
 he dined, he slept. This, Chasseloup repeated three 
 successive evenings ; and on the fourth morning, he 
 came stealthily to the wood, where his gorged enemy 
 was. He had only one hound with him, the re- 
 mainder of the pack were coupled, their eagerness 
 being restrained by some piqueurs, who kept them 
 out of sight of the huntsman and cover. The Count 
 was mounted on a clever bay horse. When about 
 five hundred yards from the cover, he stopped his 
 "field,'' and impressed them with the necessity of 
 silence for a few minutes. But in spite of him 
 Magnan, Latour, and De Vismes laughed, chattered, 
 and capered about the road on their weedy hacks. 
 What else could be expected of a triumvirate, who 
 went out hunting in blue shooting coats gathered in 
 at the waist, with fur aprons to prevent their legs 
 catching cold, with conteatuv-de-chasse at the side of 
 their saddles, and French horns slung about their 
 shoulders, making them look like circus bandsmen, 
 
WILD DATRELL. ^21 
 
 who having blown their best on entering a country- 
 town, sling their instruments athwart their backs, 
 and sit their horses as though tired of the admiration 
 their efforts have excited. Toujours French horns no 
 matter whether it is hunting or shooting they wish to 
 celebrate. Frenchmen would even sound the trumpet 
 after a hard day amongst the larks ! D*Alen9on, in 
 his military trowsers strapped tightly under his boots, 
 in his frock coat made for the Kue Rivoli, and spurs 
 the very thing for the Champ-de-Mars, alone obeyed 
 orders, for Villars and Dayrell were in animated 
 conversation about the best point they should make 
 in case they found a wolf. 
 
 " AlleZf Fontenoy'' said Chasseloup quietly to his 
 old line-hunting hound ; and the old fellow topped 
 the bank into the wood, and feathered up a ride 
 close to where the mutton had been thrown the 
 night before. Steadily the old hound worked upon 
 the trail of the wolf, and never opened till he was 
 quite sure, . and close upon the animal. A signal 
 from Chasseloup and the pack were uncoupled. It 
 is all right ; they have found, and in a couple of 
 minutes are rattling him round the lower part of the 
 wood in right merry chorus. In those two moments 
 Dayrell, followed by Villars, had crossed the small 
 piece of landes that intervened between them and 
 the wood, had jumped the bank, and gained the ride 
 
222 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 near which the wolf had been found. The Count 
 and the others declined the wood^ partly through 
 indecision, partly from fear of the bogs. " They 're 
 on him, now/^ cried Chasseloup, who, when hunting, 
 used French and EngUsh phrases promiscuously, as 
 the body of the pack swept across the ride, and 
 crashed through the tangled underwood. "Mind 
 the branches/' exclaimed Dayrell to Villars, who was 
 behind him, galloping down the overgrown path, 
 "keep your arms before your eyes, and follow me. 
 Hurrah! they^re away/^ he continued, as his horse 
 scrambled on to the rotten bank on the outside of 
 the wood. " Come up, old boy ; " and the apostro- 
 phized animal landed safely on the landes, across 
 which the pack were racing with a scent tremendous. 
 These landes are uncultivated wastes — sickly grass 
 and gorse are their only products. When the latter 
 has been cut by the peasantry, the ground is good 
 galloping, except where the uplands are drained by 
 slips of marshy ground, which often prove a stopper 
 to the uninitiated, and give them a dirty cold bath. 
 The jumps are banks, seldom big, but with ditches 
 on each side, varying in breadth and depth. 
 
 The hounds were well away ; not a soul with them, 
 but Chasseloup, Dayrell, and Villars, and they were 
 doing all they knew to keep up with the tail of the 
 pack. The two former rode their own line on and 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 223 
 
 off banks, and then, up in their stirrups, steered 
 across the uplands of the landes. Villars rode 
 pluckily enough, but rather "in the pockets" of his 
 leaders, and often looked back over his shoulder to see 
 if the others were behind. When in bonny North- 
 amptonshire the best men of the hunt have sailed 
 over some frightful fences to shake off the crowd, 
 when the hounds and fox point for some far distant 
 covert, it is a terrible moment of suspense for that 
 gallant six, if the hounds are brought to a stand 
 still, and then sweep round to the right, as though 
 they had returned to the wood. "Is it to be?" is 
 plainly written on every face. The next instant the 
 hounds take up the scent a-head. " Forward, it is,'* 
 shout those half dozen throats. They have ridden 
 for the run, and now have their reward in being the 
 only six with the hounds in one of the fastest bursts 
 ever known in the " shires." So when the French 
 pack, on reaching a long slip of marsh-land, swept 
 away to the right, it appeared as if the wolf had 
 returned to the wood. 
 
 " What a pity," said Dayrell, turning in his saddle 
 and looking back, when Chasseloup called his atten- 
 tion to old Fontenoy, who was working busily lower 
 down the swamp, heedless of the grey plover who 
 darted at and circled round his head, and of the 
 snipe, who went twit-twitting away from under his 
 
224 WILD DATRELL. 
 
 nose. " Fo-orrard, it is/' shouted Dayrell, as old 
 Fontenoy took up the scent on the opposite side of 
 the bog. 
 
 " Fo-orrard, it is," echoed the huntsman, piloting 
 the others over a piece of comparatively sound land. 
 " The old hound footed him across. I could swear 
 to it. Fo-orrard/' he cried, as the body of the pack 
 took up the scent, and raced across the landes. 
 Chasseloup, good enough in the saddle for a short 
 burst, had his equestrian abilities put to the test in 
 the run that followed. Wanting the self-possession 
 of a thorough artist, he, in taking his fences, de- 
 pended on his bridle and horse's mouth for a firm 
 seat in the saddle. Hence his horse, when in 
 trouble from the severity of the pace, being pulled 
 at a bank, jumped short, and, the earth giving way, 
 left his fore-legs on the right side, and his hind-legs on 
 the wrong. Chasseloup, in consequence, was obliged 
 to dismount, and while he was extricating his horse 
 from his inglorious position, Dayrell and Villars 
 pushed on with the hounds. Twenty-five minutes 
 on a close day — the pace tremendous — found out the 
 weak point in the Count's horses, viz., want of con- 
 dition. Had the ground been soft, the hounds would 
 have had it to themselves. As it was, by the time 
 they had thrown up their heads on the opposite side 
 of a valley, bleak, desolate, and covered with huge 
 
WILD DAYRELL, 225 
 
 boulder stones, Dayrell and Villars found their horses 
 beaten, and unwilling to press them before they had 
 recovered their second wind, sat helplessly watching 
 the pack from the brow of the hill. 
 
 " It is well. Stay there/* said Chasseloup, riding 
 up at this critical moment. " I will cross the valley 
 and set them right/' and at the same time giving his 
 horse a dig with the spurs, descended the hill by a 
 series of short jumps and slides, dashing in and out of 
 a small brook at the bottom, and was again with his 
 hounds. The check was of short duration — scarcely 
 five minutes ; for Chasseloup, guessing that the 
 wolf's point was the forest, made an excellent cast on 
 his left, and hit off the scent. The hounds hunted 
 slowly down the valley, winding in and out amongst 
 the broken rocks, followed by the huntsman on the 
 left, and our amateurs on the right side of the valley. 
 The character of the country was now changed. 
 Peasants had evidently made efforts to enclose the 
 landes and to regenerate them. The fields were half- 
 cultivated, and large banks had been thrown up and 
 fenced on the top to prevent cattle straying into 
 the corn. For a timid rider the country looked 
 awkward. Chasseloup' s eye wandered in search of 
 accommodating heave-gates, as the hounds, leaving 
 the valley, made across this uncompromising tract of 
 country. 
 
 Q 
 
226 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 " Send him at it hard, and follow me," said 
 Dayrell to Villars, as, cramming in the persuaders, 
 he sent his horse at the first of the banks, and with 
 a scramble landed safely on the other side. " Quelle 
 mauvaise bete ! " exclaimed poor Villars, as his horse, 
 pulled injudiciously at the moment of rising, jumped 
 short on the bank, and fell on his head in the boggy 
 landing, sending his rider into the mire with a thud 
 that could have been heard a mile off. Villars, with 
 a crushed hat, an aching shoulder, and an all- abroad 
 feeling, gathered himself up, as well as a stirrup- 
 leather that had come out of the socket, and stag- 
 gered forward to Dayrell, who had caught his horse, 
 and was leading him back. " This will never do,'* 
 said the latter ; " our horses are too beat for such a 
 country, we must follow Chasseloup through the 
 gates and trust to his knowledge.'^ Poor little 
 Villars again got into his saddle, and humbly followed 
 his leader over a few heave-gates into a green lane, 
 where, when joined by Chasseloup, the three galloped 
 on, as long as the hounds ran parallel with it. 
 
 The broad line of the forest loomed in front. Not 
 one of the three doubted but that the wolf had 
 reached his home, and that this would close the 
 day's sport. So the two eased their horses up the hill, 
 content to arrive at the top about two minutes after 
 the pack. Now they floundered in wet boggy rides. 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 227 
 
 the soil readily receiving their horses' feet, and 
 tenaciously holding them ; now they trotted warily 
 over an expanse of lately cleared forest-land, where 
 the sharp stubs and piles of underwood stuck up in 
 every direction prevented them from keeping up 
 with the hounds; now they rode in Indian file 
 through matted briars, with fine timber springing 
 out of the midst — weary, tiring work for horses and 
 men. Sometimes they were close to the pack, some- 
 times they were separated from them for many 
 minutes. In the latter case, Chasseloup, whose 
 powers of hearing rivalled those of an Indian, put 
 his hand to his ear, listened for a minute, then 
 struck down some small ride, and met his favourites 
 as they pushed across a green oasis of the forest. 
 The horses were now almost knocked up, and their 
 riders would gladly have given in. But what was to 
 be done ? Chasseloup was obliged to keep on with 
 the hounds for fear of losing them, and Dayrell and 
 Villars for fear of losing themselves, if separated 
 from the huntsman. The two were seriously think- 
 ing of stopping, and attempting to retrace their 
 steps, when they came to a comparatively open part, 
 where the hounds were running through a few brakes 
 of brushwood and hollies at the same pace as at the 
 commencement. In another minute hounds and 
 horses were again on the landes ; but this time, the 
 q2 
 
228 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 country was hilly and rocky, and so barren that the 
 peasants had never thought it worth while to enclose 
 any part with the customary banks. 
 
 '^ He is gone to the rocks/' cried Chasseloup, in 
 great glee ; " we must hunt him on foot, and walk 
 home afterwards. Allez-donCy* he added to his poor 
 horsC; who seemed anxious to subside into the mildest 
 of trots. But neither his horse, nor those of Villars 
 and Dayrell, could raise a canter. They were dead 
 beat, and trotted on in the spiritless style of half- 
 breds whose powers have been over-taxed. The 
 hounds were leaving them behind, and carrying a 
 splendid head through a belt of plantation on a hill- 
 side. 
 
 "Farewell, you beauties, for to-day," muttered 
 Dayrell, when— can he believe his eyes ? — the pack 
 suddenly turned, raced down the narrow belt, and, 
 in the ditch below, evidently fixed upon the wolf. 
 True it was, so Chasseloup found, as he struggled up 
 on foot, and with his knife despatched the vieux 
 monstre, as he called him. "Who-hoop," shouted 
 Dayrell, as he tumbled over the bank into the middle 
 of the hounds ; while Villars executed a war-dance 
 round the group, and threw up his crushed and mud- 
 bespattered hat into the air, totally regardless of 
 what became of that ill-used piece of property. 
 This was indeed an ever-to-be-remembered sight in 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 229 
 
 that primeval valley, — Chasseloup standing with one 
 foot on the body of his prostrate foe, whose starting 
 eyes and fixed jaw proclaimed the bitterness of the 
 death struggle. Villars, whip in hand, and wielding 
 it with unnecessary vigour, keeping the baying hounds 
 at a respectful distance; Dayrell leaning over the 
 wolf, and examining his paws, the state of which 
 cleared up the mystery of the animal's sudden down- 
 fall. They had been completely severed at the joint 
 by some sharp instrument, probably a scythe, left by 
 the peasants (as their habit is) in the long grass of 
 the landes, otherwise no old wolf, such as this one, 
 would have so suddenly succumbed, not even after 
 such a dance as he had this day led them. 
 
 The obsequies of a fox are quickly performed, the 
 trophies hastily whipped off, and the remains quickly 
 dispatched by the eager pack. But higher honours 
 are always reserved for these old robbers, when 
 chance brings them to hand. The skin (a work of 
 time) must be taken off, and their heads preserved as 
 the spolia opima of a not every-day victory. So, 
 when the flask had gone round, and been duly 
 emptied, when cigars had been lighted, and Chasse- 
 loup sounded as to the whereabouts of the chateau, 
 which he reckoned to be about thirty miles distant, 
 it was decided that their horses were too tired to 
 compass so long a journey, and that the best plan 
 
 q3 
 
230 WILD DAYRELL, 
 
 would be to find their way to an inn and farm-house, 
 which the huntsman thought must be in their imme- 
 diate vicinity. Chasseloup therefore ascended the 
 neighbouring hill, and blew his horn, to the sound 
 of which two blouse-clad peasants quickly responded, 
 prepared, for a consideration, to carry the wolf, and 
 act as guides to the party. 
 
 The procession was formed, the wolf, slung be- 
 tween the two peasants, occupied the post of honour, 
 Chasseloup and the hounds following ; while Dayrell 
 and Villars, leading their horses, brought up the 
 rear. After comparing notes about the general 
 features of the day*s hunting, Villars said abruptly to 
 Dayrell, 
 
 " Now, confess, was it not a run ? Did you ever 
 see anything like it in England ?" 
 
 '' I must say," answered Dayrell, " I never have ; 
 but then, you know, fox-hunting is very different to 
 this kind of thing. It is not often that a fox strays 
 so far from home as our wolf obligingly did to-day. 
 Then the foot people and labourers working in the 
 fields spoil many a good thing, by turning a fox from 
 his point ; besides, no animal, now-a-days, could live 
 long before hounds which, in the majority of cases, 
 are bred for simple racing, not hunting, and even 
 then, fast as they are, are repeatedly overridden. It 
 only requires straight running in the wolves to 
 
WILD DATRELL. 231 
 
 ensure a run, for, with the exception of the young 
 ones, they will beat hounds in ninety-nine cases out 
 of a hundred." 
 
 "Ah, I see,^' said Villars, "that France, or rather 
 the Count's chateau, is the place for hunting after 
 all. Give me hunting, and such runs as we have 
 had to-day, and no Paris or Bordeaux for me. 
 Don't you think, Dayrell, — and you have seen most 
 things, — that there is nothing like hunting ?" 
 
 "You are right," said the latter, "I have tried 
 most things in my time, and though I feel the keen 
 enjoyment of my youthful days a little blunted, I 
 agree with you, that the love of hunting will never 
 pall upon me, or, at all events, it will outlive every 
 other pleasure. Fishing is a pleasant sport, when 
 salmon take kindly, or even trout rise freely at your 
 fly; but at the end of the very best day, there is a 
 feeling of incompleteness, brought on, may be, by 
 the recollection of fish larger, of course, than those 
 on your gillie's back, having broke away, or of others 
 that have disappointed you by ' rising short ;' to say 
 nothing of a slight feeling of jealousy if, after all 
 your pains, a brother angler has topped your score. 
 Again, a day's shooting on the moors or stubbles is 
 splendid fun, but, on wending your way home, it is 
 not pleasant to think of wounded birds that have 
 escaped Dido, or of the good beat that you have 
 Q 4 
 
232 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 probably spoilt for another day ; besides a kind of 
 difficulty in keeping up the excitement that numerous 
 points and clever doubles have caused throughout 
 the day. I have heard from those who have been in 
 more than one cavalry charge, that there is no ex- 
 citement equal to that which a man feels, when 
 riding at the head of his squadron ; but they tell me 
 at the same time that the reaction is such as the 
 most hardened to such scenes can never forget. 
 Hunting alone seems to me to have no drawback. 
 A two hundred-guinea horse, a splendid run, and a 
 good place in it throughout, can never be remembered 
 without a thrill of delight, whether discussed that 
 same night, next week, or twenty years hence. 
 Listen to two old veterans, who have long since 
 relinquished high Leicestershire for some less dan- 
 gerous country, as they talk over a Hillmorton, or 
 Barkby Holt day, in which, twenty years ago, they 
 held their own in the front rank through a glorious 
 burst over those fifty-acre pastures. Age cannot dim 
 their sparkling eyes, or the enthusiasm, kindled by 
 the reminiscences of a run, in which almost every 
 fence they charged, and every turn the hounds made, 
 is indelibly written in their memories. I believe, 
 too, Villars, that none once imbued with a real love 
 of hunting, no matter how long they may be pre- 
 vented from joining in the sport, ever lose their 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 333 
 
 attachment to it, and that the words of Mr. Morritt's 
 song are as true as any that ever were put to paper — 
 
 " ♦ A foxhunter once, is a foxhunter still.' " 
 
 " Bravo, Dayrell," said Villars ; " upon my word, 
 when I come of age, I will have a huntsman, whip- 
 pers-in, hounds, and all complete, and you shall come 
 
 and live with me ; when 1 say, is this the inn we 
 
 are to stop at to-night ? Rather a tumbledown affair, 
 is it not ? And the landlady, what a guy she is ! '' 
 
 A wayside-inn in France is not an inviting halting 
 place, either as regards its cuisine, or the general 
 accommodation prepared for man and beast. Below 
 stairs it is probable that uneven flags pave the floor ; 
 that a smoky wood fire will cause the tears, so bit- 
 terly complained of by Horace, to start to the eyes ; 
 while the chances are, that the landlady, in addition 
 to other pledges of affection, will have a youthful 
 stranger in her arms who has as yet learnt little else 
 but to suck and cry. Above, there is probably an 
 apartment with two or more beds for the benefit of 
 travellers who may be compelled to stop and "be 
 done for;" there is a fire-place in which, for the 
 reason given above, you dare not apply a light to the 
 wood; and rheumatic drafts enter freely through 
 innumerable holes and crannies. 
 
 It sometimes happens that the aboriginal managers 
 
234 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 of such hostelries can speak no language but their 
 own semi-barbaric patois, *'What are you to do 
 then ? *' asked a young Cambridge man of his friend, 
 a man who boasted that he had walked with his knap- 
 sack more miles than some people had ever travelled 
 on wheels. ''When I want to eat or drink," he 
 answered, '*■ I raise my hand to my mouth in piteous 
 supplication ; when I want to perform my toilet, I 
 go through a singular pantomime of hand-rubbing 
 my face ; and when the drowsy god claims a willing 
 votary, I simply begin to undress, and am bundled 
 ©ff to my dormitory with marvellous celerity." The 
 bill of fare, too, at such establishments, is generally 
 of the most simple kind (I wish I could say simplex 
 munditiis)j consisting of eggs and crepe — a species 
 of pancake, into the manipulation of which we had 
 better not inquire. Lucky shall we be if the latter 
 does not reek of garlic, the custom of using that 
 odoriferous herb having long since crept across the 
 Spanish frontier, and invaded the less civilized depart- 
 ments of la belle France. Cider, sour wine, and the 
 worst possible eau de vie, compose a pleasant list of 
 drinkables. The water, however, is likely to be both 
 fresh and sparkling ; so a health, "five fathoms deep," 
 to Father Mathew. 
 
 Dayrell and Villars, after seeing their horses cared 
 for as well as the resources of the estabhshment ad- 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 235 
 
 mitted, entered upon just such a scene as this. By- 
 dint of much blowing, the former coaxed a cheerful 
 blaze out of the smouldering embers on the hearth ; 
 and the good-humoured expostulations of the latter 
 induced the landlady to commence the preparation 
 of a repast, of which our Nimrods stood greatly in 
 need. Their endeavours to make themselves com- 
 fortable were somewhat assisted by the evident par- 
 tiality the landlady showed for Villars. His good 
 looks must have quite won her heart, so anxiously 
 did she enquire if he was hurt, — so often did she 
 call him her pauvre enfant , — so desirous to scrape off 
 some of the red mud that still tenaciously clung to 
 his person. As soon as dinner was ready, Chasse- 
 loup having fed his horses and hounds, came in, ac- 
 companied by Monsieur Michelet, the garde of the 
 forest, a tall gaunt man, of about forty-five years of 
 age. The latter carried the badge of his profession, 
 in the shape of a game bag, across his shoulders, 
 while on his arm rested a long single-barrelled gun, 
 that looked as though it had been buried with its 
 original possessor in case he should need it in " the 
 happy hunting grounds " to which he had been re- 
 moved, and sacrilegiously resurrectionized by its pre- 
 sent owner. They all sat down in company to the 
 improvised dinner, the quality of which did not pre- 
 vent its rapid demolition; a consummation that was 
 
236 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 followed by a general move to the fire. In a minute 
 the blue smoke from pipes and cigars curled upwards 
 amongst the blackened rafters. 
 
 *^ O dura Chasselouporum ilia^^ would the bard 
 have sung with a grimace of sympathetic horror, had 
 he seen our huntsman foaming up his sixth horn of 
 lately-pressed cider, and pledging the company with 
 all the easy freedom of the brotherhood. 
 
 " Messieurs,^' said Michelet, " au mort des hups ; " 
 and Dayrell added, " May you never have a worse 
 day than this." 
 
 The toast was duly responded to, and all the events 
 of the run and the kill were detailed for the benefit 
 of the keeper. In fact, the huntsman's tongue was 
 fairly set going, he told many tales of other days, 
 and amongst them, one rather singular story con- 
 nected with his residence in England. 
 
 " Monsieur Dayrell, you will excuse me," said he, 
 "if I dislike your countrymen for one little thing. 
 I like your country j I like your gentlemen ; I like 
 your hunting ; but I do not like you when you quarrel, 
 and (putting himself in a most unscientific attitude, 
 supposed to be one of self-defence) when you want to 
 box. On my arrival in England I had plenty to do 
 in the stable and the field, and after finishing my 
 work used to go to the house for supper. The even- 
 ings would have been dull enough had I not taught 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 237 
 
 the other servants dominoes, tric-trac, and cards j 
 but, when they had learnt these games, I became 
 quite a popular character. While hunting one day, 
 a farmer, who had several times seen me nearly break 
 my neck over some big fences, came up to me, and, 
 laying his heavy hand on my shoulder, said, ' Dang 
 it, Frenchy, but you are a good sort of chap ; you 
 stopped them all at that fence. Remember, there 's 
 a horn of beer and a welcome at my house whenever 
 you like to look in.' After this invitation I used 
 often to go there in the evening, especially as the 
 farmer had a pretty daughter, who, I thought, was 
 likely enough to have his money some day. This 
 latter consideration made me desert the servants' 
 hall, and spend my time with Susan (that was her 
 name), who used to make herself very agreeable, and 
 seemed to take great interest in all I said and did. 
 My fellow servants were soon made aware of what 
 was going on, and became so jealous, that they de- 
 termined to play me a trick, the results of which I 
 shall not easily forget. At the end of the hunting 
 season, our master gave a ball to his tenants ; and, 
 amongst others, we were to be present in hunting 
 costume. ' Frenchy,' said one of the helpers to me, 
 the morning before the ball, ' never been, I reckon, 
 to a dancing party in England?' 'No,' said I; 
 'Why?' 'Nothing,' answered he; 'only you had 
 
238 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 better do the same as other people.' ' And what is 
 that V I asked. * Why, only to find the girl you 
 like best,, and kiss her, or else she will not dance 
 with you all the evening/ ' I '11 do that/ I replied, 
 quite unsuspicious of any trick. ' There is nothing 
 I should like better.' I did not appear in the ball- 
 room till after the music had began and most of 
 the people were assembled, when seeing my Susan 
 standing by the fire-place, and her father talking to 
 some one who was standing near him, I walked up to 
 her. She held out her hand for me to shake ; I took 
 it, and then kissed her on both cheeks. She screamed 
 out. I felt myself seized by the collar, and amidst a 
 shower of kicks, and many bad words, was pushed out 
 into the yard ; where it was of no use stopping and 
 trying to explain through the keyhole, for they had 
 locked the door and had no intention of re-opening 
 it. Next morning I went in a terrible rage to the 
 stables, and seeing the helper who had been the cause 
 of all the mischief, began to abuse him, and call him 
 by every French and English name I could think of. 
 He put down the fork with which he was tidying the 
 straw, and said with a grin, ^ Frenchy, can you fight ? ' 
 I rushed at him, but he gave me two blows with his 
 fist, that not only knocked me down, but fairly 
 stunned me for some minutes. When I came to 
 myself he was quietly raking up the litter as though 
 
WILD DATRELL. 239 
 
 nothing had happened, and seeing me staring about, 
 said, ^ Frenchy, you have made a fool of yourself; you 
 had better hold your tongue in future, or you'll get 
 the worst of it.' Oh, Monsieur Dayrell, if I had 
 known how to fight like one of our roulage carters, 
 that helper would have regretted his attempt to box 
 with me/' 
 
 They all laughed heartily at Chasseloup's mis- 
 fortunes, except Michelet, who did not see the joke 
 of taking a man in first, and knocking him down 
 afterwards ; when Villars adroitly turned the subject. 
 
 " Michelet,'^ said he, " you were talking just now 
 about deer, do you think we could get one in the 
 forest if we came and stayed here for two or three 
 days?" 
 
 '' There are very few left,^' answered the keeper ; 
 " the wolves have killed so many fawns, that I doubt 
 much if you ever get a chance. I am always about 
 the forest, and often don't see one for weeks together." 
 
 "Look here," said Villars, holding up a gold 
 coin, on which the landlady in her chimney corner 
 fastened her eyes, and, in order to obtain it, concocted 
 a gigantic robbery in the matter of her guests' bill. 
 " This piece of twenty francs is yours, if we kill a 
 
 Michelet brightened hugely at the sight of money, 
 and changed his tone. " I don^t know but what we 
 
240 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 might do so, after the routing the hounds gave the 
 forest to-day ; besides, it has lately been disturbed so 
 much by the wood-cutters. I think we might alight 
 upon them — I am nearly sure we shall — that is if 
 you let me show you the ground, and the way to set 
 to work. At any rate, if there be a deer in the 
 country, I flatter myself I am the man to un-harbour 
 him.^^ 
 
 "Very well, Michelet," said Villars; "that's set- 
 tled. If you can show us the deer you win twenty 
 francs, and as much brandy as you can stow away in 
 a fortnight ; and if we kill one, you shall have '' 
 
 " Stop, Villars, that will do," interposed Dayrell ; 
 " you have arranged the preliminaries, so come to 
 bed. What do you mean, you young muff", by show- 
 ing your money, and making such promises ? Don't 
 you know, that the more you promise the more such 
 men as Michelet will want." 
 
 The landlady led the way to a drafty apartment 
 upstairs — it was the only one she had — where Day- 
 rell and Villars, rejecting the sheets, which smelt 
 damp and musty, enveloped themselves in blankets, 
 and in spite of all inconveniences soon fell asleep. 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 241 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 When bad weather puts a stop to out-door amuse- 
 ments in England, a country-house, full of visitors, 
 is by no means a cheerful residence. When the 
 barometer has steadily fallen to 27 J, and ominously 
 points to " much rain/' a most depressing effect is 
 produced on the British constitution. The perusal 
 of newspapers and letters may, haply, fill up two 
 hours after breakfast ; but even an elaborate report 
 of one of Sir Creswell CreswelFs trials will not stand 
 more than a second reading. The matutinal cigar, 
 and inspection of the stable, may wile away another 
 hour; but no one, unless he is an extraordinary 
 admirer of equine beauty, cares to listen, more than 
 once, to the pedigrees and performances of his host's 
 stud. Billiards and luncheon may kill time up to 
 two P.M., when frequent walks to the window, and 
 disconsolate glances at the falling rain, clearly indi- 
 cate that the resources of the visitors have collapsed, 
 and fallen with the glass. Two or three of the 
 hardiest of the party may in despair envelope them- 
 
242 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 selves in waterproofs, and walk out, unmindful of 
 the pelting of tlie unsympatliizing storm, but tlie 
 majority of the party will be uncomfortable and 
 restless, and take their revenge by inflicting dull and 
 misanthropic letters on their friends till the dinner 
 dressing-bell rings, and puts an end to their ennui. 
 Truly, the hostess, should there be one, would 
 become a public benefactress were she jealously to 
 lock up the large chest containing Mudie's latest 
 works, and not allow its treasures to be ransacked, 
 until the rainy day arrives — that damper, in more 
 senses than one, to her unhappy guests. 
 
 Our neighbours, in France, when imprisoned in a 
 country-house by a similar stress of weather act far 
 otherwise. "Wiser in their generation, they do not 
 look upon out-door amusements as the be-all and 
 end-all of life, but rather as the means of occasion- 
 ally passing away an idle hour. So, when the deluge 
 descends, reducing every thing out of doors to mud 
 and misery, they bring forward their evening amuse- 
 ments into the day. If they cannot hunt or shoot, 
 they arrange the tables for whist, imperiale, ecarte, 
 sometimes varying the proceedings with a bout at 
 fencing, or gymnastics. Throughout the live-long 
 day the same excitement reigns, as they reach " four 
 all,'^ or some other equally critical part of the game. 
 The same old jokes are cut, and the same clattering 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 343 
 
 of tongues follows the conclusion of each set. No 
 matter whether the stakes are 500 francs or 5, the 
 novelty never seems to wear oflP. They are playing, 
 and that is enough. It is, perhaps, a libel on French- 
 men to say, " Give them plenty of tobacco, and time 
 to play cards, and they require nothing else." StUl 
 there cannot be a shadow of doubt but that these 
 are the two most important items in the sum total 
 of their happiness. 
 
 Dayrell, Villars, and Chasseloup had returned to 
 the chateau, the splendour of their triumphal entry 
 having been sadly dimmed by the rain, and their 
 drowned-rat appearance. A committee of taste had 
 deliberated at length on the ultimate destination of 
 the skin and head of the wolf, and the Count had 
 great difl&culty in deciding whether he should make 
 a rug or chair-cover of the old veteran's coat. The 
 details of the run had been told all through, dis- 
 cussed bit by bit, and referred to so often, that the 
 subject became a bore. Yards had been added to 
 the breadth of brooks, and feet to the height of 
 banks, that had been jumped by the successful horses, 
 while the run itself was now set down at 50 kilo- 
 metres from point to point ! Magnan and the 
 others, who were thrown out, chafed considerably at 
 their misfortune, and threw the principal blame on the 
 Colonel for leading them up the wood ; to which the 
 r2 
 
244 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 Colonel good humouredly retorted, '' That Magnan, 
 at least, ought to be grateful for his life being 
 sparied, as he would inevitably have tumbled off at 
 the second fence. Not that my charity was quite 
 disinterested/^ continued the Colonel ; " for, in the 
 event of a bad accident, I, as the biggest man of the 
 party, would have been expected to carry you on my 
 shoulders to some place where the carriage could 
 pick you up. Oh! the ingratitude of the world, '^ 
 sighed the Colonel ; " I hope another time, Magnan, 
 you will better appreciate my kindness and solicitude 
 for your ribs." 
 
 For two days after the return to the chateau, the 
 rain fell in torrents, and the Frenchmen played at 
 cards. Dayrell and Villars took no part in the 
 games, — in fact, were only spectators, when the 
 evening put a stop to their occupations. For it was 
 vain to attempt fly-dressing by candle-light, or to 
 work out models of a boat intended for one of the 
 southern lakes. When the weather mended, the 
 Count and his companions, in all the severe panoply 
 of the French chasseur, and not unmindful of the 
 fancifully-worked game-bags, took the beagles to the 
 woods, whence they returned, perchance, with a hare 
 which the dogs had caught, and a couple of rabbits that 
 some of the party had shot sitting at a distance of 
 six yards, and nearly blown to pieces. Dayrell and 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 245 
 
 Villars traversed the whole country in search of 
 woodcocks and snipe. The latter, under the guidance 
 of his friend, was rapidly learning the art of '^ mow- 
 ing down his bird," and was constantly repeating 
 Dayrell's advice, "I am to fix my eye as quick as 
 I can, — my hand follows my eye. I cut him down 
 before he has time to mount into the air and twist and 
 turn ;" to which his mentor answered encouragingly. 
 " If you only continue to make the same progress, 
 you'll beat the Squire of Holly combe, in time, who 
 teverted to a flint gun to put himself on an equality 
 with his guests." The hounds, too, after the great 
 run, had, of course, little rest. Young France 
 burned to distinguish (or e<a7tinguish) itself in the 
 saddle. But the fates were unpropitious. They did 
 not always find, and when they did, on two separate 
 occasions the scent was so catching as to prevent 
 even a ten minutes' burst over the open. 
 
 But, if sport was denied to the chateau party in the 
 field, great fun awaited them on the boards of Ville- 
 neuve. Subsequent to Dayrell's arrival certain cards 
 of invitation had been sent, asking them to a ball 
 the amateur musicians of the town intended giving 
 on the fete of St. Cecilia — a lady — whether in the 
 calendar, or not, I cannot say, but supposed to be 
 the patroness of " instrumental movements.'^ 
 
 '* What fun it would be to go," said De Vismes. 
 r3 
 
246 WILD DATRELL. 
 
 "You, Colonel, will come, of course, and add one 
 more to your fifty-two — was it fifty-two or fifty- 
 three? — conquests over the fair sex. The belle of 
 Villeneuve anxiously awaits you; you cannot say 
 'No' to her.'* 
 
 "De Vismes," replied the old beau, "when will 
 you mind your own affairs ? Let me tell you, that 
 by the time you have got into a third as many 
 scrapes as I have got out of, your hair will have 
 become grey from vexation and trouble." 
 
 " Stop, Colonel," interposed the Count ; " you are 
 too hard upon your young friend. You shall not 
 run the gauntlet of beauty this time. We will stay 
 at home, and they shall have the carriage to-night 
 and go*,to Villeneuve." 
 
 In the little village it was a gala night, for the 
 good reason that it was the only night in the year in 
 which the young ladies could put on white dresses, 
 and figure in the trois temps. The music-hall was 
 brilliantly lighted, and the white-washed walls, when 
 decorated with festoons of laurel and paper flowers, 
 lost much of their previous frigid look. On a raised 
 dais at the upper end was stationed the band, com- 
 posed of amateurs, and in close attendance lounged 
 and conversed the stewards, with the well known 
 nonchalance of the emancipated bourgeois. On each 
 side of the room was ranged a double row of benches, 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 247 
 
 of which the lower was occupied by youthful aspi- 
 rants to matrimony, who laughed, and talked, and 
 smirked, as though accustomed to muslin flounces 
 and dancing every night of their lives. On the 
 upper bench behind, in grim array, like the old 
 Roman senators, sat mothers and duennas, who — 
 tell it not at Willis's, whisper it not at Mabille — 
 retained their long black cloaks all the evening, 
 — charity would suggest for a foil to their daughter's 
 dresses, malice would hint at a concealment of their 
 morning or walking robes. Mais c'est Vhabitude du 
 pays ; it is the custom at Villeneuve, and Villeneuve 
 is miles from Paris and civilization. 
 
 The music and dancing had commenced, when the 
 chateau party, in all the pride of sable suits, worked 
 shirt-fronts, and white ties, elbowed their way into 
 the hall, past half a dozen gens-d'armes redolent of 
 tobacco, and through a crowd of the 6l ttoXXoc, whose 
 sabots precluded them from coming in. Such a 
 well-dressed party should have created a sensation. 
 On the contrary, with the exception of one or two 
 stewards, who addressed them with the easy affability 
 of Frenchmen, they were scarcely noticed by the 
 male sex. Every man here considered himself as 
 good as his neighbours, including the better-born 
 visitors from the chateau. Egalite far outstripped 
 Fraternite in the ball-room of Villeneuve. 
 E 4 
 
248 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 " Les Messieurs will dance/^ said one of the French- 
 meiij who was better dressed than the others, for 
 there were few present who could muster all the 
 component parts of an evening suit. One perhaps 
 had a black tail-coat and trowsers, but surmounted 
 by such a variegated tie and waistcoat as would have 
 effectually barred his entrance into Her Majesty's 
 Opera House. Another, perhaps, had a tie of 
 snowy whiteness and lengthy ends, but which hardly 
 matched with a black shooting coat and green gloves. 
 And so with the majority of the guests. If all the 
 clothes there had been put in a heap, some nine or 
 ten tolerably-dressed individuals might have turned 
 out respectably for the evening parade. 
 
 " Les Messieurs will dance ?" inquired the French- 
 man. "The ladies await you; you should take 
 partners for the quadrille:" after which piece of 
 advice the steward dropped back into the crowd. 
 
 Oh the terrible solemnity of a first quadrille for 
 the man who hails from old England, and has dined 
 some hours previously, and having lost the confidence 
 imbibed with 44 Lafitte, feels like fighting Bob 
 Acres. Dayrell, to tell the truth, was more than 
 awkward, as he led out a somewhat buxom young 
 lady, while the *' what on earth shall I say to her ^' 
 feeling gave him a sort of a shiver. His reasoning 
 faculties^ however, being sufficient to point out that. 
 
 I 
 
WII.D DAYRELL. 249 
 
 if his partner was at this ball, she probably would 
 like to hear something about similar reunions, he 
 commenced a rambling account of a bachelor's ball, 
 where, as manager, he had borne a conspicuous part. 
 He descanted at length upon the decorations of the 
 room, the performances of the band, and, warming 
 to his work, was describing the supper,-— yes, salmon 
 and champagne, claret and clear soup, — when, on 
 returning from the performance of a difficult evolu- 
 tion in La Pastorelle, his partner looked up in his 
 face and said so naturally, " Monsieur, qa vous coute 
 bien cherJ' Dayrell was taken aback at the cost of 
 the entertainment being the first object of considera- 
 tion to youth and innocence, yet he had presence of 
 mind left to answer, ^' Rien, Mademoiselle j est trop 
 coHdeux pour les demoiselles ,'* 
 
 The whirling waltz, the graceful mazurka, and the 
 polka, not as yet obsolete in provincial circles, fol- 
 lowed in quick succession, in each of which the 
 chateau party performed with unflagging energy, as 
 long as the violins and cornopeans held out. At the 
 conclusion of each dance, there was a rush to the 
 front bench, a disengaging of partners, a closing up 
 of the ranks of demoiselles on promotion, and a 
 general promenading of the male sex up and down 
 the middle of the room. This unsociability was 
 brought about by a law made and provided by the 
 
250 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 matrons of Villeneuve, and strictly adhered to in 
 some other parts of France, to the effect that a stop- 
 page in any dance for more than a second must be 
 followed by an immediate return of the inexperienced 
 flutterers to the parental wing. Thus the promenade 
 of happy couples in search of cool breezes, refresh- 
 ment, or conversation, after the music ceased, was 
 rigorously prohibited. 
 
 While the evening was yet young, Dayrell and his 
 companions had observed the anti-flirting regulations 
 laid down by the black- cloaked conclave. They 
 might have continued to do so till the end of the 
 ball, had not opportunely arrived (by order) sundry 
 bottles of Bordeaux wine, — a necessary step, for 
 nothing but the mildest of refreshments were in- 
 cluded in the invitation. The uncorking and general 
 distribution of the wine caused a revolution in the 
 state of Villeneuve. Under its genial influence the 
 musicians became more vivacious, the cornopeans 
 rang out a less lugubrious wail, the fiddle ran two 
 notes into one with alarming celerity, and the whole 
 band, at De Vismes* instigation, prolonged the 
 waltzes to an indefinite length. Then was it refresh- 
 ing to watch the airy movements of La Foix, to mark 
 the adroitness Magnan showed in slipping through 
 the serried ranks of slower dancers, and to see the 
 pluck of little Villars, manfully struggling to turn 
 
WILD DAYRELL. . 251 
 
 his heavy partner. But De Vismes was the brightest 
 star in the hemisphere of Villeneuve ; he, whom even 
 the Parisians applauded in Cellarian halls, when, 
 dancing the deux tempSy he described without an 
 effort twelve small circles round one of the iron 
 pillars, and afterwards completed twelve more in the 
 '*^ reverse turn'* without a symptom of giddiness or 
 exhaustion. No sooner did certain panting couples 
 pause, than De Vismes, gliding across the room with 
 his light and airy partner, performed evolutions in 
 the mazy dance that made the whole company look 
 on in amazement, and the musicians almost stop and 
 admire. He was indeed a great dancer. Well might 
 that young lady who had danced with him five times 
 in succession, be proud of such a partner. Blush- 
 ingly she allowed herself to be engaged for a sixth, 
 quite unmindful of the presence of a moustached 
 youth, who came to claim her hand for that mazurka. 
 
 " You are wrong," said De Vismes, " this lady is 
 engaged to me ;" and, without further parley, swept 
 off his Villeneuve belle into the mazy circle, and 
 danced until, fairly exhausted, he as well as his 
 friends were obliged to restore their partners to the 
 charge of their respective chaperones. 
 
 " Have we had enough of this ?" asked Magnan, 
 moving to the stairs. " I see you all think so ,* the 
 carriage is waiting, let us bid adieu and retire." 
 
253 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 They were descending the staircase, and De Vismes, 
 in his conceited manner, was running his hand 
 through his long black hair, when the youth of the 
 shabby moustache, whom he had deprived of his ex- 
 pected mazurka, came quickly down, and addressed 
 our dancing hero. 
 
 " Sir," said he, "I wish to speak to you/^ 
 
 ^Yery good ball indeed," relied De Vismes, not 
 hearing what he said; '^ never enjoyed myself so 
 much." 
 
 " Sir," said the jilted one, now fairly bubbling 
 over, " you have insulted me — you are" 
 
 "Very hot indeed," replied the other; "the heat 
 was the only drawback to the pleasure of the 
 evening." 
 
 " Sir, you shall speak to me," screamed he, raising 
 his hand, to De Vismes' shoulder. " I will prevent 
 you leaving the place." 
 
 Dayrell saw the hostile movement, and, quick as 
 thought, put into practice a little English science, 
 and tripped up the irascible Frenchman. This gave 
 time to the whole party to pass on to the carriage, 
 and start before the disturbance could summon a 
 crowd. 
 
 " Rather unfortunate termination to the ball,^' i-e- 
 marked La Foix, as they drove home. " We shall 
 hear more of this to-morrow." ' 
 
WILD DAYEELL. 253 
 
 " Never mind," said the others ; " let us wait till 
 we do hear/' And so these jovial spirits^ dismissing 
 the subject, went on to criticize the dancing and con- 
 versation of their respective partners. 
 
 If in England an aristocratic youth should hit, 
 trip up, or otherwise scientifically dispose of an 
 opponent, his punishment may be a fine and a 
 damaged optic, requiring a coating of paint before 
 he goes to Lady Turnabout's soiree dansante. Even 
 the fine he sometimes escapes. A policeman has 
 often in a street disturbance (at night), not a hun- 
 dred miles from St. James's Palace, been known to 
 take half-a-crown, and then act as bottle-holder and 
 audience to the parties fighting. But in France, 
 laying violent hands on a neighbour is a crime of the 
 deepest dye. The law must be vindicated at once. 
 Gens-d'armes immediately cock their hats in the 
 approved ferocious style, pick up their swords, and 
 serve the parties with proces verbals to appear before 
 a judge, be fined, and imprisoned. So De Vismes 
 was not surprised to receive a visit next day from the 
 gens-d'armes, as also a notice that he must answer 
 the charge of Mons. Cordon-noir, " universal boot- 
 maker, but more especially to the inhabitants of 
 Villeneuve,^^ in that he, D. V., had insulted and in- 
 jured the said Mons. C, for which injury the latter 
 claimed 150 francs damages. 
 
254 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 " I told you so/^ said the Colonel, glancing at the 
 unwelcome paper. " Your troubles, De Vismes, are 
 beginning. Don't forget to look in the glass every 
 morning, or to tell us when you flush your first grey 
 hair." 
 
 " Pay, and have done with it,^^ suggested Dayrell. 
 " It is only six sovereigns after all. The Colonel 
 will subscribe one, I another, and so make the 
 amount in five minutes.^^ 
 
 " Pardon me," said De Vismes, *' this is a criminal 
 action, and we cannot compromise. If I am con- 
 victed, I shall have to pay, and go to prison for a 
 week besides." 
 
 " You had better retire to Paris, De Vismes," the 
 Colonel said ; " or, suppose we have a mock funeral, 
 and make the gens-d*armes believe the shock has 
 kiUed you." 
 
 But while the Frenchmen spoke in language more 
 forcible than polite, about the institutions of their 
 country in general, and that of the law courts in 
 particular, Dayrell and ViUars made their pljins for 
 a start for the forest, thinking they would have time 
 to kill a stag before their presence at the trial, fixed 
 for the end of the week, should be required. So, 
 after vain endeavours to induce the others to rough 
 it in the wilderness, they put a stock of wine and 
 provisions into one of the Count's carriages, and 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 255 
 
 drove that afternoon to an auherge, where Michelet 
 had been told to await them. 
 
 Bump, bump; jolt, jolt, over a road unstoned, and 
 in ruts of awkward depth; swish, swish, through 
 sheets of. water that lay stagnant in the lanes all the 
 year round, too deep for man to drain, or for the 
 summer sun to dry ; sometimes going at a foot pace, 
 at other times absolutely obliged to lead the horse 
 over a nasty place, where the carriage was within an 
 ace of turning on its side, Dayrell and Villars made 
 their way to the inn where they had slept after their 
 day with the wolf-hounds. Not that they cared for 
 the slowness of the pace or the chances of an upset. 
 They were tired of the monotonous life at the 
 chateau, and had not arrived at an age when the 
 turning of a king at ecarte, or holding the last 
 trump at whist, are preferred to the results of twelve 
 honest " right and lefts " in stubble-field and turnips. 
 So they plodded on, making fun of their difficulties, 
 and speculating as to the probable results of their 
 expedition. Now they are near the forest, and the 
 country ridden over by them a few days previous. 
 They begin to form conjectures, albeit, far from 
 accurate, about the scenes of their prowess in that 
 ever-to-be-remembered run. In yonder valley they 
 thought must be the morass, where old Fontenoy 
 behaved so sagaciously, and, further on, the bank 
 
256 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 that brought Villars to grief. Here must be the 
 spot where the hounds crossed the road and were at 
 at fault; and in that dell the morass, whence Chasse- 
 loup extricated himself and horse with the loss only 
 of a shoe. Dick Christian himself, riding through 
 the scene of many a Leicestershire scurry, could not 
 have summoned more cheery reminiscences than our 
 hunters did of their day with the wolf. 
 
 ^^You received our note, then," said Dayrell to 
 Michelet, who, pipe in mouth and hands in pockets, 
 awaited their arrival at the inn door, 
 
 " Yes," said that worthy, taking off his hat, and 
 commencing a long story about business in the forest, 
 with a view of impressing them with the magnitude 
 of the sacrifice he made in the cause of sport. 
 
 ''Ah, never mind that; you shall be well paid, 
 Michelet. Here, take these cushions out of the car- 
 riage and place them safely upstairs," said Dayrell, 
 and followed himself with some more of the luggage. 
 That evening and night were spent by our hunters 
 much in the same way as by most people in a state 
 of expectancy.' They made restless pilgrimages to 
 the yard, to see whether it was clear or cloudy over- 
 head, filling the intervals with speculations about 
 what they were doing at the chateau, and how the 
 trial was likely to end. The night they passed in the 
 old room ; but, whether their weariness was not so 
 
 I 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 257 
 
 great as on a previous occasion, or the blankets were 
 rougher, their slumbers were broken and unrefreshing. 
 
 Villars was the first to spring from his mattrass 
 next morning to peer through the dirty window, 
 and to look anxiously for the usual signs of fine 
 weather. 
 
 " How looks it out of doors ? " asked Dayrell from 
 beneath the sheets. ''Is Fortune propitious this 
 time?" 
 
 " I hardly know," replied Villars, slowly. " The 
 clouds hang about the hills, and there is a little rain 
 falling ; but Michelet said last night that mist in the 
 morning is often followed by a hot day." 
 
 " I don't believe it, at this time of year at least," 
 said Dayrell, dropping on to the floor from his lofty 
 perch. " Still, no amount of rain must prevent us 
 making a tour of inspection in and about the forest.'^ 
 
 Michelet was waiting for his employers down-stairs, 
 as well as a native of the country, to whose care was 
 confided a dog, — a varmint but knowing cross be- 
 tween a lurcher and deer hound, — a handy aide-de- 
 camp, that Michelet kept for a little quiet poaching 
 on his own account. 
 
 "What are we to do?" asked Dayrell of the 
 keeper, on going into the Qpen air and seeing the fog 
 still clinging to the mountain sides, and the drops 
 pattering ominously on the flagstones in front of the 
 
258 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 house. " I don't mind a wet jacket, but we shall 
 lose ourselves in such a fog and mist as this." 
 
 " No fear of that, Sir ; it will rain heavy in an hour, 
 or clear up altogether.'' 
 
 " Then, Villars, let us make a start — shoulder rifles 
 — forward.'^ 
 
 " You might as well have left your rifles at home," 
 remarked Michelet, when they had walked up the 
 valley a distance of a couple of miles. '^ Should the 
 fog clear away I cannot do more than show you the 
 best parts of the ground. It would be idle to attempt 
 to stalk a deer such a day as this. You ought to 
 have been here last Monday ; such a chance of kill- 
 ing a stag I never saw (just as they say in Paddy- 
 land, * if your honour had been here one week sooner 
 or a month later, what sport you would have had.^) 
 One jumped up in a thicket not fifty yards from me. 
 I was thinking of writing you word, but I knew you 
 would soon be here. Then, four days after the 
 hounds left, I saw two stags and five hinds on a 
 hillside not two kilometres from Mons. Froment^s 
 farm, where they go at night to feed on his turnips 
 and potatoes. How the old farmer hates them ! 
 Parbleu ! he ought to give me a Napoleon if we kill 
 one this week, and we shall if there is any power in 
 your rifles. — Mais pardonnez moiy' he said, giving at 
 the same time a sort of subdued whistle, as his eye 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 259 
 
 alighted on the rifle Dayrell carried, " but that can- 
 not miss. Par exemple ! that must have cost some 
 money/^ 
 
 "And your guns^ too," chimed in Villars ; '^they 
 are the best I ever saw. Oh, if I could "get such a 
 pair made for me in France, but I suppose that is 
 impossible.'^ 
 
 " They ought to be good," replied Dayrell. " They 
 cost me not only money, but a great deal of trouble 
 into the bargain. When I made up my mind to 
 give a hundred guineas for a pair of guns, I thought 
 it was likely enough I should not be able to give so 
 much again, and that it would be as well to have 
 these made to suit me. Many a visit I paid to the 
 maker while they were in hand. I took care that 
 the stock and barrels should be evenly balanced, and 
 that the former should be bent exactly like my old 
 one ; and, last not least, I was very particular not to 
 have the locks too stiff. In fact, I took care that I 
 should have something I could shoot with. Most 
 men order a gun as they would a watch or a bracelet, 
 and leave it to the maker to turn out an article, 
 pretty enough, 'tis true, but quite unsuited to the 
 owner's length of arm, neck, and style of shooting. 
 I always say to a man who is going to give fifty or 
 sixty guineas for a gun, ' Caveat emptor,' By-the- 
 bye, that reminds me of a story of my old school- 
 
 s2 
 
260 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 master, Mr. Byers, whose hard fate it was to have a 
 very bad article, in the shape of a scolding shrew of 
 a wife. One day he gave his first form ' Caveat 
 emptor ' as the theme for certain hexameter verses. 
 Next morning the worthy pedagogue found amongst 
 other copies the following lines : — 
 
 "'CAVEAT EMPTOR. 
 
 " ' Buyers purchase a horse for better or worse, 
 As Byers has taken his wife ; 
 A horse may be sold before he grows old, 
 But Byers must keep her for life.' " 
 
 " There she goes," said Villars, as a hare sprang 
 from her form in the thick grass, and sped across the 
 bog, throwing up a shower of spray on each side of 
 her. The lurcher strained in its slips, and nearly 
 pulled the Frenchman into a peat hole. " Let him 
 go, let us have a hunt," said Michelet, who dearly 
 loved a course. But this Dayrell would not allow ; 
 he had no idea of mixing the opposite pursuits of 
 stalking deer and coursing. They skirted the forest 
 for about two miles, threading their way through 
 brakes of tangled brushwood, where they saw nothing 
 but an occasional buzzard, either looking for game, 
 or hovering over some unfortunate rabbit. At one 
 of these Villars was going to shoot, but was pre- 
 vented by his companions, who feared lest an unlucky 
 shot should disturb some nobler prey. Michelet at 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 261 
 
 last came to a sudden halt, he looked on the ground, 
 swung his arms round like a windmill, then pointing 
 to a print in a soil, asked, " Qu'est que c'est qa ? " 
 They gathered round, solemnly inspected it, drew a 
 long breath and said, '^ Fresh slot of deer." '* They 
 are here, and we will find them," remarked Dayrell, 
 as they trudged on after Michelet. The latter pre- 
 sently turned to the right, and leaving the wood, 
 breasted a hill, from the top of which a good view 
 could be obtained of the best glen. The rain and 
 fog, as Michelet prophesied they would, had cleared 
 oif, and Dayrell, on arriving at the summit of the 
 ridge, unslung his glass, and narrowly scanned every 
 corrie in the vicinity. 
 
 In front lay a valley, between the precipitous sides 
 of which a burn, swollen by the late rains, foamed 
 and tumbled over the rocks that obstructed its 
 course. At the upper end was a wide expanse of 
 broken ground, intersected with ravines, and covered 
 with fern and heather. On the right, but not visible 
 from Dayrell's post of observation, were the two 
 farms spoken of by Michelet, and the much-loved 
 turnips that induced the deer at times to stray from 
 the depths of the forest. 
 
 " A most likely place," said Dayrell, shutting up 
 his glass, " and, with the wind in the right quarter, 
 favourable for a successful stalk; but it is no use 
 
 s3 
 
262 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 looking for deer on such a day as this. Now, 
 however, we know the ground, and may have 
 the chance of finding them here in more favourable 
 weather." 
 
 Michelet was anxious to point out another glen, 
 where he had found an out-lying stag more than 
 once. His suggestion was not received with favour, 
 it being thought better not to disturb the ground 
 until a change in the weather took place. They 
 therefore retraced their steps to the inn, the best 
 course to pursup under the present circumstances. 
 After dinner that evening, they arranged their plans 
 for the next day's campaign. If the weather should 
 be still unsettled, Michelet was to take them to 
 another part of the forest to look for woodcocks, and 
 where there would be no chance of disturbing the 
 deer ; for, independently of the sport, they thought 
 a woodcock '^ served on toast " no despicable addition 
 to the hard fare of an auberge. The morrow looked 
 certainly more propitious than its predecessor, but as 
 showers continued to fall, they followed out their 
 plan of having a day's cock-shooting, for which pur- 
 pose they impressed into their service two natives as 
 beaters, shouldered their double-barrels, and went to 
 Michelet's preserve. They had a good day's sport, 
 killing eight woodcocks, and nine couple of snipe; 
 but what most pleased them was, that they found the 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 263 
 
 latter lay well — a happy augury of fine weather on 
 the morrow. 
 
 On this, the third day, patience had its reward ; a 
 bright sun and a north-easter proclaimed it a deer- 
 stalking morning. Dayrell and Villars trod the 
 heather with quite a difi'erent step to that of the 
 preceding days ; they seemed to have that kind of 
 foreboding, so often the real cause of success. They 
 made the best of their way to the glen, so narrowly 
 scanned by them on the first day, and, before ascend- 
 ing the hill, made their arrangements. The man 
 with the dog was to remain in the valley, and not to 
 stir till the signal was given, when he was to follow 
 the stalkers at a respectful distance. Michelet was 
 to accompany Dayrell to the top of the ridge, and 
 received strict injunctions to make himself as small 
 as he conveniently could. Villars was to stay where 
 he was, an injunction which that young gentleman 
 had no idea of obeying. On reaching the summit, 
 Dayrell crept up to a small mound, and peered 
 through his glass at the corries on the opposite side. 
 After ten minutes' inspection, he directed his DoUond 
 towards some broken ground on the right, where the 
 fern and heather were more luxurious, and, drawing 
 a deep breath, said to Michelet, " It is them, I be- 
 lieve. Just take the glass and look." 
 
 " Where ? " asked Villars, poking up his head. 
 s 4 
 
264 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 " You here ? " replied Dayrell, hastily. " Do lie 
 down, or you'll frighten every deer in the country/' 
 
 The keeper balanced the glass in his hand, then 
 turned it in the direction pointed out to him. The 
 moment was one of intense excitement and suspense 
 to the pair. Dayrell anxiously watched the keeper's 
 face, but Villars had a fit of the buck ague, fidgeted 
 with his rifle, and felt the point of his hunting 
 knife. 
 
 '^ I can see them, now," said Michelet, slowly. 
 
 " How many ? " 
 
 " I make out three hinds and a stag. But, Mon- 
 sieur Dayrell, you can never approach them." 
 
 "Wait a minute," said Dayrell, taking a long 
 survey through the glass. " It is to be done, and I 
 will show you how. The wind at present blows up 
 the valley, that is in our favour. We must stalk 
 them from the upper end, though, even so, we 
 cannot get near enough for a shot. You, Michelet, 
 must remain where you are, until, by the aid of the 
 glass, you see us under cover of yonder pile of rocks. 
 When I hold up my hand, you may get up, and 
 quietly descend the hill. The stag, when disturbed, 
 is almost sure to make for the forest, and must pass 
 near enough to give us a shot.'' 
 
 "And the hinds?" enquired the blood-thirsty 
 Michelet. 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 265 
 
 " We don't want them to-day," answered Dayrell, 
 laughing. 
 
 He and Villars then descended the hill, and having 
 told the man to follow with the hound, proceeded to 
 make their long detour. It is one thing to stalk a 
 stag oneself, and in a fresh country; another to be 
 in the hands of some canny Highlander, who knows 
 every inch of the ground, and brings you at length 
 within sixty yards' range. But Dayrell had a good 
 landmark in the shape of a hill higher than the rest, 
 which he kept in view, until he came in sight of two 
 clusters of rocks. " Which are the rocks we marked," 
 thought Dayrell to himself, then turning to Villars, 
 asked him, if he had seen more than one from the 
 other side. 
 
 "Not I, mon cher," gasped the excited youth. 
 "Go to whichever you like, only not further than 
 you can help. I am so blown.'' 
 
 '^ Then en avant. Let us hope we are right." 
 
 Ten minutes of alternate walking and running 
 brought them within five hundred yards of the rocks, 
 A short pause to gather breath, and steady the pulse, 
 enabled Dayrell to whisper, " If you have a chance, 
 mind you aim at his shoulder, and if he is galloping 
 towards the forest, shoot well forward. By-the-bye, 
 Villars, your cap; you really must put that red 
 abomination in your pocket. Its colour is enough 
 
266 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 to frighten every living creature into the next depart- 
 ment." 
 
 Villars pocketed the offending head-piece, and, 
 ■with hair blowing about in the wind, followed his 
 leader up the steep and stony ravine. Dayrell made 
 for the right and Villars for the left of the rocks. 
 The former proceeded with the caution of an expe- 
 rienced hunter, until he caught a glimpse of two 
 hinds that were feeding out of gunshot, flapping 
 their ears, and snuffing for any taint that might 
 portend danger to their lord and master. There 
 was no possibility of a nearer approach ; so having 
 seen Villars coiled up in the heather and in position, 
 he crept back, and gave the signal to Michelet. The 
 keeper saw it, left his hiding-place, and descended 
 the hill. The deer, when they perceived him, collected 
 together in a state of apparent indecision; then 
 having made up their minds, moved on slowly, 
 crossed a small burn, and passed within easy shooting 
 distance of the two. Villars' rifle was discharged in 
 a moment. None but the merest tyro could have 
 missed ; but Villars* ball was not within twenty yards 
 of the deer, who turned and dashed up the hill-side. 
 Dayrell had a difficult shot, but he took time, and 
 that he hit him he was sure. The thud of the 
 bullet, and the quiet turn of the stag told him that. 
 " Let go the hound," he cried ; and in a second 
 
WILD DATRELL. 267 
 
 the animal was bounding across the heather, and in 
 a minute more was out of sight behind the hill. 
 
 Hatless Villars follows in pursuit, while DayreU 
 remains behind to re-load his rifle. The boy is almost 
 mad. He runs down the hill-side as though it was a 
 level, well-kept lawn, and turns a somersault before 
 he has gone a quarter of a mile. He is up again, 
 following the course of the burn at a reduced pace. 
 Now he stands on the edge of a pit, hollowed by the 
 torrent, his hair blowing in the wind, and uncertain 
 what to do next. The stag is at bay beneath him. 
 Shall he attack him with the butt of his rifle or 
 with his knife ? when crack ! goes a rifle behind 
 him. The stag lowers his head, then falls on his 
 side against a projecting rock. 
 
 " Take care, Villars," cries DayreU, who had fired 
 the shot. '^ Put your knife up, and don't go near 
 him yet, there may still be some life in him.^' 
 
 But this last shot had killed him. He never 
 moved after he fell, and in a few minutes DayreU 
 and Villars had slipped down the bank, and stood by 
 his side. 
 
 " It is a stag, and that *s all," said the former, in 
 rather a disappointed tone. His horns are perfect, 
 but smaU, and his weight will be nothing to talk of. 
 Never mind, I dare say it is as much as Michelet and 
 his assistants wiU care to carry to the inn." 
 
268 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 Then the deer are larger in Scotland V^ enquired 
 Villars. '^ Never mind if they are. Wait and hear 
 what my uncle and the others at the chateau will say. 
 They will call it a grand stag, and we shall be voted 
 the first chasseurs in the world. How I wish I had 
 hit him. I think, Dayrell, I must have touched him. 
 Don't you fancy he went a little lame up the hill 
 just before you fired ? But here comes Michelet/' 
 and Villars ran to meet the keeper, clapped him on 
 the back, and plied him with so much brandy that, 
 had not the latter buried his head in the burn, and 
 drunk enough of the purer element to float a man- 
 of-war, he would inevitably have slept with the stag 
 on the open moor. 
 
 Villars was right in saying that their reception at 
 the chateau would be triumphant. The Frenchmen 
 could not understand how a man by his own unaided 
 genius had killed a deer. A successful shot in a 
 drive they could comprehend, but the manoeuvres 
 and skill of a stalk were beyond them, and the result 
 hardly to be credited. Nor would they have be- 
 lieved it without the deer and its antlers as evidence 
 to the fact, for the testimony of Michelet was value- 
 less ; an unlimited number of gouttes of brandy had 
 fired his fancy. Every time he told the story he 
 added a few more kilometres to the distance, and a 
 few more minutes to the time, until none but the 
 
WILD DATRELL. 269 
 
 ignorant peasants who flocked to the chateau to see 
 the deer believed a word he said. By the time that 
 Michelet had lapsed into a state bordering on 
 delirium tremens, and the peasantry had reverted to 
 their old habits of tobacco smoking and habitual 
 lethargy, the Frenchmen had found magnifique, e 
 tonnant, and the like expletives sufficiently strong to 
 describe their opinion of the deed ; and, when look- 
 ing on the antlers hanging in the hall with '' Dayrell, 
 185 — " written underneath, shrugged their shoulders, 
 more than ever convinced that the talents ces diables 
 Anglais exhibited in hunting and shooting could only 
 be attributed to a very dark agency. 
 
270 WILD DAYKELL. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 It was market day in Villeneuve — the event of every 
 fortnight in the lives of the peasantry living near 
 that salubrious but dull little town. On every road 
 converging on the Place the natives are trooping, and 
 chattering in their patois, and dragging themselves 
 on as fast as unwieldy high-heeled sabots will allow. 
 Some are carrying merchandise, and some are carry- 
 ing calves just three weeks old to sell to the butchers, 
 who are ready to murder such innocents. Some, by 
 the aid of furze bushes, are driving gaunt, long- 
 legged pigs, keeping them straight by means of rope 
 harness wound round their bodies. Even the har- 
 ness may be bartered at the fair, as the wag Latour 
 told Dayrell on their return that evening, when pigs, 
 loose and unfettered, declined to go whither their 
 owners wished. " Funny fellows these natives of the 
 Garonne. If they cannot get rid of their pig, they 
 will make their expenses by selling his harness for a 
 few sous !" Some are carrying hares and some are 
 carrying partridges, and some are not ashamed 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 271 
 
 bring a bunch of yellow-hammers or thrushes for 
 Villeneuve to turn into soup, or serve upon toast. In 
 the town, although lawyers are busy and granting 
 audiences; although the tradesmen are employed 
 behind their counters, instead of smoking, as on 
 other days, in the Place ; although the tax-collector 
 sticks to his desk; and although many have care, 
 thought, and calculation imprinted on their foreheads, 
 there are plenty of idlers who find time to loiter 
 about the Justice Hall, and canvass the merits of 
 the case of " Cordon-noir v. De Vismes." 
 
 It is ten o'clock by the village clock. The doors 
 of the Hall are opened, and De Vismes, his party, 
 and the crowd, rush upstairs into the Court, if that 
 could be called a Court which was only a white- 
 washed apartment, with the upper end railed oflp to 
 prevent the intrusion of strangers. On a dais within 
 this sanctum sat the judge, looking in his black robes 
 and round cap like the grim inquisitors in Spain. On 
 the left sat the greffier — the most nonchalant of secre- 
 taries, who noted the words of his superior in a book 
 at one moment, and at another combed his hair and 
 stared out of the window as if disgusted with his 
 thankless ofiice. The only other persons allowed to 
 remain in the privileged enclosure were two represen- 
 tatives of the French bar, and an officer of the Court. 
 Outside were congregated plaintifi", defendant, wit- 
 
272 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 ness, and spectators in one confused mass. Happy 
 he who found a window-sill or wall for support, and 
 was not, like Dayrell, wedged between a young lady 
 who trod on his toe, and a brawny blacksmith, whose 
 elbow performed a gamut of pokes on all his ribs in 
 succession. 
 
 The case of " Cordon-noir v, De Vismes," stood 
 first on the list, but the opening was of the most un- 
 interesting character. The gens-d'armes' depositions 
 as to facts, names, and dates, in connection with the 
 assault on Cordon-noir at the ball, were read by the 
 judge, and when his dull prosy reading was finished, 
 the public were as wise as at the commencement. 
 For the men had spent that hour in whispering to 
 their neighbours, or making signals to comrades at 
 the other end of the hall ; and the women, pulling 
 their knitting needles out of their hair, had set to 
 work at their new worsted stockings with their ac- 
 customed zeal. 
 
 ^^ Monsieur Cordon-noir,^' shouted the ofiicer of 
 the Court, at the termination of the judge's exor- 
 dium — a call which was followed by a shuffling of 
 feet, a squeezing through the living mass, and the 
 breathless plaintiff's appearance at the bar. But 
 what a change from the dapper steward of the ball. 
 No black coat ; no hair parted down the middle ; no 
 studs emulating the real diamond in brightness ; but 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 273 
 
 seedy clothes and unshaved face, while misery lurked 
 in a blood-shot eye. A murmur of pity broke from 
 some of the knitters, who sent their needles home 
 into their hair, and breathlessly expected his evi- 
 dence. 
 
 Cordon-noir's lip quivered — his arm trembled, as 
 he raised it with well-feigned difficulty on repeating 
 the customary oath, " Je jure — '' 
 
 '^ C'est un pauvre — '^ cried some one in the crowd, 
 using in addition an inadmissible expletive. 
 
 " Remove that man,'^ said the judge to the gens- 
 d'armes. 
 
 In two minutes the offender was seized, and taken 
 down stairs, amidst the suppressed laughter of his 
 friends. 
 
 This little episode over, Cordon-noir commenced 
 his tale. He and his fellow stewards — the young 
 unmarried men of Villeneuve — had given a baU on 
 the fete of St. Cecilia. To show hospitality and to 
 amuse their friends was their object, as well as to 
 keep up a custom as old as Villeneuve. His task it 
 had been — while his fellow stewards performed in the 
 band, or kept the circle open for dancing — to see 
 that all were happy, or, as he beautifully expressed 
 it, " bien comfortables'' De Vismes had waltzed 
 with energy supernatural — no one admired it more 
 than himself. De Vismes' dancing was distasteful to 
 
 T 
 
274 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 the ladies sitting on the benches. He and his part- 
 ner were too violent. So he, Cordon-noir, had ap- 
 pealed to monsieur, asking him to moderate his 
 transports — monsieur had refused — he applied to 
 monsieur a second time; then the cruel barbarous 
 assault was committed. He was knocked down ; he 
 was kicked ; he was bruised about the arms, legs, 
 and head ; he had had a doctor to attend him next 
 morning ; he could not work ; and he thought he 
 was entitled to 150 francs damages. 
 
 The judge read this evidence, and the greffier put 
 it down in his notes. 
 
 Monsieur Le Bas, a quiet barrister, and De Vismes' 
 barrister, rose to cross-examine. 
 
 " Bootmaker you are to all Villeneuve, Monsieur 
 Cordon-noir — happy man ! Making 5,000 francs a 
 year, I dare say, eh ? (Monsieur C. opened his eyes.) 
 Not so much — well, now-a-days, alas, bootmakers 
 must rough it on 3,000. You don't even get that ? 
 Nor 1,000, nor 500, but only 300? You must 
 be joking, when you ask for 150 francs damages 
 for being prevented working, as you allege, for three 
 days. A very modest request. I hope. Monsieur le 
 Juge, you will bear it in mind. Then you were so 
 ill you could not go to the cafe ? Oh, you did go to 
 the cafe ; and played billiards and ecarte the whole 
 of an afternoon and part of an evening ? — a friend 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 275 
 
 asked you to do so? — no need of any explanation, 
 Monsieur Cordon-noir, the judge will understand 
 about the health of a poor man who could play bil- 
 liards and cards for eight hours at a stretch. But I 
 have not done with you/' 
 
 "Do you know a young lady in Villeneuve, a 
 Mademoiselle Bien-gentil ?" 
 
 '^I know her — yes — I know her; but she has 
 nothing to do with this case/' 
 
 " Thank you, Monsieur Cordon-noir, I am the best 
 judge of that. Now answer me on your oath. Did 
 she refuse to dance with you?" 
 
 " Moi,^' replied the Frenchman, gnashing his teeth, 
 the spretce injuria formcB rankling in his bosom. 
 " Moi ! she refuse me ! The prettiest girls in ViUe- 
 neuve are proud to accept me ! " and forgetting the 
 presence of the judge, Cordon-noir finished with a 
 par ewemple and a blank expletive. 
 
 " Monsieur Cordon-noir will recollect where he is, 
 or he will be committed to prison,'* said the judge, 
 solemnly. 
 
 " He says he never asked Mademoiselle to dance, 
 and " continued Le Bas. 
 
 " I beg my brother's pardon, my client admitted 
 no such thing," struck in Cordon-noir's counsel. 
 
 "Did you ask her to dance, and did she refuse?" 
 enquired the judge. 
 
 t2 
 
276 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 Cordon-noir hesitated a moment, and answered, 
 "No." 
 
 " He may go down, Monsieur le Jnge,^^ con- 
 tinued the advocate, '^ I have nothing more to say to 
 him at present,^^ he added significantly. 
 
 Two of Cordon-noir's fellow-stewards were called 
 as witnesses of the assault, the one a hair-dresser, 
 the other a tailor. The former described the attack 
 upon his friend as ^^harhare^ and unprovoked ; said, 
 that when on the ground his friend had been kicked, 
 and that his life would have been in danger had the 
 defendant not been a coward and run away. 
 
 "Pray, where were you when it happened?" 
 asked Le Bas, in cross-examination. " At the top of 
 the staircase, you say. Well, it was quite dark in 
 the passage at the bottom of the staircase, the in- 
 dictment says, yet you saw the assault committed. 
 Oh, you did not see it, but you heard the noise. 
 Pray, how do know that De Vismes did it ? Oh ! 
 Monsieur Cordon-noir told you so afterwards. 
 Monsieur le Juge will please to make a note of 
 that." 
 
 The doctor deposed to attending Cordon-noir at 
 his request. Did not think him much hurt — more 
 frightened than hurt, perhaps. Did not believe there 
 was any necessity for his being called in. Would be 
 glad to receive a fee for a hundred such cases, they 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 277 
 
 took up, so little time. Had received his fee of five 
 francs on writing a prescription for his patient. 
 
 Cordon-noir fairly boiled over on hearing this 
 evidence. " Cu-ill-on^^ muttered he to the doctor, 
 handing him at the same time a five-franc-piece (for 
 witnesses in France must be paid after they have 
 given their evidence, and before they have left the 
 box). " Cu'ill-on^^ he reiterated ; to which the 
 medico replied with a shrug of his shoulders, and a 
 promise that he would send the "poor infant'* a 
 ptisan as a cooling draught that evening. 
 
 Here rose the counsel for the plaintiff — a burly, 
 bullying barrister, who coughed oracularly, and 
 addressed the Court with all the declamatory vehe- 
 mence and gesticulation peculiar to the French bar. 
 
 " Monsieur Le Juge,* I rise with mingled feelings 
 of surprise and pain — surprise that the facts of this 
 case should have been so wilfully perverted, and pain 
 that any Frenchman should be found to defend such 
 a cause. The facts of the case are these : — On the 
 fete of , St. Cecilia, the young men of Villeneuve 
 always give a ball and send invitations to residents 
 in the town and neighbourhood. This year they 
 extended their hospitality to the gentlemen staying 
 
 * The author wishes it to be understood that this trial and speech 
 is only a summary of what actually occurred in a French Court of 
 Justice, and of which he took notes. 
 
 t3 
 
278 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 at present with the Comte d'Artois. Amongst the 
 visitors is an Englishman — I don^t know his name, 
 but the people tell me that it means courage and 
 love of fighting — ^Dare-all,' Monsieur le Juge, I 
 understand it is, and that this Monsieur Dare-all 
 came also to the ball. In England, I need hardly 
 tell you, it is the fashion for every one ^to box.' 
 The higher classes have exhibitions of 'the box,* 
 and go to them as often as we do to the opera ; the 
 middle classes, if they do get a holiday, take a 
 special train and see * a box/ in which one of the 
 two combatants is often killed ; and the poorer 
 classes, if they have no quarrel on hand, make one, 
 so that they may finish with ' a box.' The upper 
 classes, again, of which Monsieur Dare-all is one, 
 will go to a place of entertainment, not for the pur- 
 pose of being quiet spectators of what the manager 
 has provided, but for the sole purpose of ' making a 
 box.* They are rude to some people, use insulting 
 language to others, and even push and hit; in a 
 word, do anything to provoke a disturbance. When 
 these gentlemen from the chateau came to the ball 
 at Villeneuve, they — I blush to say it of Frenchmen, 
 my compatriots — had been tutored by this English- 
 man, and were prepared to make a scene. But, 
 mark me, they found our young men too well- 
 behaved, too orderly. Those Parisian gentlemen 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 279 
 
 found country people quite different to what they 
 expected — much more polished than those they had 
 been in the habit of consorting with. What did 
 they do then? Listen to this. They sent to the 
 nearest cafe for intoxicating drinks, invited all to 
 partake, and turned the heads of these well-disposed 
 youths. The defendant then set off to dance with 
 an indecency of which Mabille would be ashamed, and 
 with a vehemence highly disproved by the ladies of 
 Villeneuve. My client was a steward. He, as in 
 duty bound, stepped forward, and in the politest 
 terms requested him to desist. Monsieur De Vismes 
 refused, and danced more indecorously than before. 
 My client again remonstrated. The result — a box — 
 a veritable box Anglais, My client was knocked 
 down and kicked; then the defendant and his 
 dastardly friends ran, yes, ran away. This is the real 
 case, Monsieur le Juge, and I say that every law 
 that governs society has been broken. I say that, 
 when the youth of this town, holding out the hand 
 of good fellowship to yonder aristocrats ; when my 
 client, remembering the entente cordiale between Eng- 
 land and France, cemented by mutual sufferings in the 
 Crimea, invited an Englishman to the fete, and when 
 all this was repaid by a barbarous outrage on iny 
 client, that you. Monsieur Le Juge, must redress his 
 wrongs. Suppose the doctor did speak slightingly of 
 
 T 4 
 
280 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 the bodily injury my client has received. What of 
 that? Can the prescriber of medicines and the 
 wielder of the knife estimate the poignant sufferings 
 of that client's honour ? I would put you, Monsieur 
 le Juge, in Monsieur Cordon-noir's place. Could 
 you hold up your head amongst your fellow-citizens, 
 who so well know and appreciate your impartiality, 
 discrimination, and good sense, had you been as- 
 saulted as he was on the night of the ball ? No ; I 
 am sure you could not ; therefore, I say, this is a 
 case for heavy damages. Show that the strong 
 cannot attack the weak with impunity. Put down 
 at once the bullying spirit imported here by a foreign 
 intruder. Trample under foot the spark before it 
 bursts into a flame. Let the defendant feel the 
 whole force of the law ; in other words, I say. Fiat 
 Justitia r 
 
 In answer to this inflated harangue, De Vismes' 
 counsel gave a correct account of the affair from the 
 commencement ; pointed out how lamentably the 
 plaintiff's case had failed ; and dwelt upon the testi- 
 mony of the doctor as conclusive that little or no in- 
 jury had been inflicted on Cordon-noir. But to show 
 how little dependence could be placed on what the 
 plaintiff said, he would call one witness. 
 
 " Call Mademoiselle Bien-gentil.^* 
 
 The 
 
 " Causa mali tanti, conjux iterum," &c., 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 281 
 
 in all the plenitude of crinoline, and cap of the 
 country, after a serious struggle, pushed through the 
 crowd, and appeared at the bar, blushing and smiling. 
 
 " Was nineteen years of age. Had been at the 
 ball. Did not care much for country balls ; liked 
 those at Bordeaux better. Spent three months with 
 her aunt at the latter place. Liked them because 
 the men danced much better, talked more, and were 
 more comme il faut. Monsieur De Vismes danced 
 like the monsieurs at Bordeaux ; that was the reason 
 she danced with him five or six times. Refused to 
 dance with Cordon-noir because she was engaged, 
 not because she wished to make him jealous, or be- 
 cause De Vismes told her. Why should he be 
 jealous, when she was going to be married to some- 
 one else — never mind who — in six months ? Heard 
 Monsieur Cordon-noir speak angrily to De Vismes ; 
 saw no fight, and heard no disturbance.'' 
 
 " Are there any more witnesses ?" asked the judge, 
 drearily, as mademoiselle retired. 
 
 *' No,'' replied both the barristers. 
 
 " Then this Court is adjourned to Thursday, when 
 the verdict will be given," said the judge, who straight- 
 way retired to his ill-furnished apartment, where 
 a supper was prepared for him, the chief component 
 parts of which were vin-ordinaire and nuts ; and that 
 evening he strained his eyes over voluminous returns 
 
282 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 from the farmers of his commune, about the amount 
 and quality of the cereals grown on their acres, a 
 careful summary of which the government requests 
 him every year to send. On the morrow he went to 
 an " audience," in a village fifteen miles distant, and 
 returned wet through and dispirited, to find a messen- 
 ger waiting to take him to the bedside of a dying per- 
 son to witness his last will and testament. The next 
 day there was an " audience '^ elsewhere ; besides in- 
 terviews with gens-d'armes and the mayor, leaving 
 scarcely a moment to look over the notes he had 
 taken at Cordon-noir's trial. Nevertheless, this 
 justice of the peace, who did his duty for fifty pounds 
 a-year, came into Court on Thursday jaded and 
 haggard, and delivered this sentence. 
 
 ^^De Vismes is condemned to pay seventy-five 
 francs damages, the costs of the action, and to be 
 imprisoned one week.^' 
 
 The cordwainer and his friends rushed exulting 
 into the street, leaving Dayrell and De Vismes in 
 Court, astonished at the verdict and appealing to one 
 another if what they heard was true. Still the judge 
 took no notice of them, but called on the next case. 
 The gens-d'armes, however, did not step forth and 
 take De Vismes by the collar, and lead him to prison 
 — French law on this point is kind and accommo- 
 dating — De Vismes might spend his week in durance 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 283 
 
 vile just when he liked ; so lie waited till the end of 
 the shooting and hunting season, and when Lent had 
 commenced he went quietly and comfortably to 
 prison; but having bribed his gaolers, he was allowed 
 to break the rules, and spent the week in playing 
 ecarte and giving dinners to his friends. 
 
284 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The best friends, we all know, must part, and plea- 
 sant as life at the chateau was, the party broke up 
 after the trial, and dispersed, by no means rejoicing, 
 in different directions. DayrelFs route lay south- 
 ward, to the far-famed town of Pau, whose climate 
 has induced more than one worthy doctor to dip his 
 pen in ink, and give the world a notion how wrong it 
 was not to go there. He retraced his steps to Bor- 
 deaux — beyond all comparison the most delightful of 
 cities devoted to money-making and commerce. Let 
 us take a turn round it on a fine morning in early 
 autumn. Let us pay our two sous and step on to 
 the bridge that spans the Garonne, whence we shall 
 have a bird's-eye view of the handsomest town in 
 Europe. Beneath us sweeps a noble river, and 
 happily unpolluted like our whilom silver Thames. 
 Its surface is dotted with comers and goers to and 
 from all parts of the world ; its banks, formed into 
 quays, some three miles long, teem with countless 
 shipping. And yet here, in the midst of commerce. 
 
WILD DATRELL. 285 
 
 we miss the noise and confusion of a Liverpool dock 
 scene, and even the glare of a southern sun fails to 
 discover the dirt that clings to business places in our 
 metropolis. The Gascons do not rush hither and 
 thither, like Bristol porters or London dock men, 
 but treating their business as a pastime, lazily roll 
 the bran-new casks to their stations on the quay. 
 We think we feel the most excited of the two when 
 we try to guess whether these same casks contain the 
 unrivalled Lafitte, or the pure and unadulterated (?) 
 JuUien, offered by Messrs. Logwood and Bark at 
 20*. a dozen to the British public. Abutting, but 
 not encroaching, upon the causeway, are edifices of 
 the Italian order of architecture, — palaces, a fervid 
 imagination might fancy them, but simply warehouses 
 for magnums of rosy wine. In the background 
 shoot up Gothic towers and antique spires, quite as 
 handsome as those we go so far to see in Southern 
 Italy. 
 
 We leave the bridge, and walk up the principal 
 street. That magnificent building is the theatre, and 
 the two gorgeous establishments by its side, we need 
 not add, are cafes. The knots of happy Frenchmen 
 sitting outside, and sipping their favourite beverage, 
 are sufiicient evidence of a thriving business. In 
 the thoroughfare there is life — heaucowp de move- 
 ment j our French cicerone calls it ; broughams glide 
 
286 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 swiftly by, with fair faces within, but not Gascon, he 
 further tells us, but Bearnaises. If so, it must be 
 worth while travelling a hundred miles further south, 
 and seeing more of those dark flashing eyes and nut- 
 brown complexions. Great men, too, strut about 
 that street — lords of the Medoc and Haut Sauterne 
 vineyards — magnates in their own estimation, and 
 the Emperor's also, who selected them out of all 
 France to hear the famous speech that concluded 
 with the words, ^^H empire, c'est la yaixy Stop, 
 traveller, for a day or two at the Hotel de France ; 
 take our word for it, you will see, in your wanderings, 
 few cities to compare with this metropolis of the 
 South. 
 
 Dayrell, however, did not tarry long, but took 
 train to Dax on the morning after his arrival. 
 '^ What a change comes o'er the spirit of our dream " 
 after twenty minutes on that railway! The sensa- 
 tion of passing from a hot to a cold bath is as nothing 
 compared to the exchange of the princely town and 
 its environs, for the uncultivated department of the 
 Landes, and its demi-civilized inhabitants. Pine 
 trees, heather, sand — sand, heather, pine trees ; the 
 latter, with deep scores in their sides, presenting a 
 woe-begone appearance, as though bewailing the 
 cupidity of man in thus extracting the resin from 
 their wounds. Anon we see an inhabitant mounted 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 287 
 
 on stilts, and gazing vacantly on his ragged flock. 
 Scanty is his clothing, with the exception of his 
 sheepskin-coat, his sole protection against rain by 
 day and heavy dews by night. On through the 
 same unvarying landscape, save when we halt at a 
 station, to which no village or houses are attached, 
 and, when our engine-driver, pitying the forlorn 
 state of the ticket-collector, tarries beyond his time 
 to detail small scraps of news. Still, onward, where 
 no life is seen, save where a few ducks or teal, 
 affrighted by the whistle, arise from the stream; 
 still, onward, through monotonous heather-land, 
 until we can lift our eyes and welcome the snowy 
 peaks of the distant Pyrenees. We arrive at Dax 
 in six hours, and more than one diligence is waiting 
 to convey passengers to Pan. No sluggards are the 
 latter upon the road ; competition forces the pace. 
 We trot up the inclines, and descend at a gallop, 
 unmindful of occasional dismemberment of rope- 
 harness, or the distressed condition of the steeds. 
 " AlleZj^ cries the postilion, as we rattle through 
 Orthes of the narrow streets ; and it is some time 
 after we have passed the actual scene of the combat, 
 that we remember the battle Wellington won. 
 " Allez, Allez" over the flat, and galloping through 
 Artix and other scattered hamlets, occupants of 
 coupe, interieur, and banquette are equally glad to see 
 
288 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 the gas-lit Place at Pau. Having landed Mr. Dayrell 
 at the hostelry of France^ let us pause, and recover 
 the breath which the speed of Monsieur Bienvite's 
 malle-poste has nearly taken away. 
 
 Thus has it been written of the capital of Bearn^ 
 "Pau is a delightful winter residence for such 
 invalids as would escape the cold and fogs of 
 England, and renovate a constitution impaired by 
 variable weather and nipping frosts. It enjoys a 
 high character for its peculiar dryness of atmosphere, 
 
 and an absence of wind which renders it " but 
 
 really we are not Dr. Quinine ; so we must stop this, 
 or we shall be infringing some valuable copyright. 
 We will begin afresh. Although a free and enlight- 
 ened public can never be expected to be unanimous 
 in their opinions on any point whatever, yet the vast 
 majority eagerly proclaim the fact that, as a winter 
 residence, Pau is without a rival on the Continent. 
 Here the fast, the slow, the clever, the stupid, may 
 each, according to his own taste, tranquilly float 
 down stream. For some good genius, it would 
 appear, has awarded unto this city a fund of amuse- 
 ment suited to every taste. Ask the hunter (biped, 
 not quadruped) if he is not content, when his coat- 
 tails are flying in the wind as he flits across the 
 landes at the tail of Mr. P/s hounds. Ask the 
 cricketer, the archer (male and female), the golf- 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 289 
 
 player, their opinion, when, on Bilheres* broad plain 
 in the month of February (tell it not in frost-ridden 
 England), the first sends the middle stump flying 
 with a well-pitched "bailer,'^ the second hits the 
 gold with Ford-like accuracy, and the third spins his 
 ball across the grass with such a speed as the eye can 
 scarcely follow. Make enquiries of the old fogies, 
 Messrs. Growler and Buttercup, if their declining 
 years are not soothed by whist at the English and 
 French clubs. Question Lightfoot on the subject of 
 dancing at Carnival-time, and that fast young gen- 
 tleman will tell you it is '^ stunning." Even Snapshot 
 and Marchbrown, if not overloaded with game and 
 fish, return refreshed from their healthy sporting 
 trips. But supposing that these congenial spirits, 
 one and all, tire of the continuous round of pleasure ; 
 supposing that the fragrant Leoville and the full- 
 flavoured Mouton have slightly disagreed with their 
 interior economy : still it is open to them to flit to 
 the pretty town of Bagneres, to see (perhaps) an 
 Empress at Biarritz, or witness the Montagnards 
 executing wild dances at Eaux Bonnes. Let them 
 change the scene for a few days, and I warrant they 
 return to Alma Mater (Pau) with what the dear old 
 Latin Grammar called 
 
 " Mens Sana, in corpore sano." 
 
 But, Mr. Traveller observes, where so many 
 
290 WILD DAYEELL. 
 
 Englisli collect, there must, of necessity, be divers 
 clans, sets, and some struggles for precedence. In 
 reply to you, Mr. T., let us quote the worthy man of 
 the Rue des Tailleurs, who said, " Society at Pau, 
 Sir, forms a republic pure et simple. No king or 
 queen has ever been allowed to reign. True, like 
 the brave old Romans, we have our consul who 
 becomes dictator when any difficulty arises ; but, 
 having set things to rights, like his worthy proto- 
 types, he lays aside the insignia of his office, and 
 next day is jollily sailing with us over Sauvagnon hill 
 in a run, or subsiding into a ditch (as the best of us 
 must sometimes) on the flats round Morlaas. No, 
 joking apart, what our republic has to fear is the 
 self-constituted queen of a 'watering-place,^ whose 
 special duty in life it appears to be, to draw a line 
 between presentable and unpresentable people — her 
 own caprice, her own likings and dislikings, being 
 her only guide to this undesirable end. A titled 
 dame, ere now, has dropped down amongst us, and, 
 in imitation of her English compatriots in the Eternal 
 City, has invested herself with the tiara, and consti- 
 tuted herself arbiter of society. For a time she has 
 held her solemn receptions, and given her tea-parties, 
 at which a few elderly ' sticks in waiting' and mild 
 young tuft-hunters presented themselves. For a 
 time, her attempt at forming a court interrupted the 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 291 
 
 harmony that had hitherto prevailed ; but the lasting 
 element was wanting. The salons of the pretender 
 were slow, those of society in general were the con- 
 trary. The 'Wednesdays and Saturdays' of the 
 former were voted a bore, and the attendance of 
 guests became more select ; and, ere the season 
 waned, our new Queen was compelled to lay aside 
 the bauble she had grasped in an unlucky moment, 
 and confess that our republic was not to be trifled 
 with. No ; Sir, the English system of exclusiveness 
 never has and never will take root in Pau." 
 
 But Captain Finicking, of the Heavies, has a charge 
 to prefer, and would include all foreign towns in his 
 sweeping condemnation. He says that they are hot- 
 beds of English sharpers, and tells stories of his brother 
 officers, who have left Baden, Dieppe, and Florence 
 with lightened purses. Let him try our model re- 
 public. He will not fall a victim to such adven- 
 turers as prey upon their kind. The latter thrive 
 not at Pau. They may come, and they may stay for 
 a few days, but, soon finding themselves in the 
 position of *' isolated birds,'* they take their places in 
 the mail, and retire at the befitting hour of night to 
 find another spot better suited to the development of 
 their peculiar talents. 
 
 If, Tnon ami lecteur, you would wish to know more 
 of the dolcefar nieute life of the denizen of Pau, place 
 u2 
 
292 WILD DAYKELL. 
 
 yourself by the side of our hero as he smokes his 
 matutinal cigar on the Place. Can you conceive 
 anything more beautiful than the scenery ? For a 
 back-ground to Nature's picture, there is the long 
 Pyrensean range; its hundred snow-capped peaks 
 glistening in the sun. At their feet are hills and 
 dales, clothed with trees and vines, and dotted with 
 picturesque chateaux. Below, the tumbling roaring 
 Gave makes its way over a shingly bed, as yet un- 
 stained by the meltings of the winter snow. On 
 the promenade are groups of idlers, invalids, and 
 sight-seers, under cover of blue and red umbrellas, 
 which oftener do good service as a screen against the 
 sun than as a defence against the pitiless pelting of 
 the rain. In parties of twos and threes, the French 
 brunettes trip along the tree-lined alley — young 
 ladies who, by undeniable toilettes and sprightliness 
 of demeanour, bid defiance to the critics who would 
 find fault with irregularity of feature and sorry com- 
 plexion. But, far out-stripping all competitors, you 
 see the '' sunny," cheerful faces of our English girls, 
 who, disdaining extraneous adornment, trust to their 
 natural beauty and innocent ways to steal away the 
 hearts of us too susceptible individuals.. Are you 
 still unsatisfied ? Then step with us to the Park — 
 why called so we know not, seeing that it is a woody 
 ridge, admirably laid out, with paths, sequestered 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 293 
 
 seats, and an occasional peep cut through the foliage. 
 Mrs. Mainchance says that these benches have wit- 
 nessed many of those ^' promising" flirtations, and 
 that those old cynics, the bachelors, dub them '•' seats 
 of sacrifice," — wrongfully we say, considering that it 
 is at no ignoble altar that the victims have prostrated 
 themselves ; and we are sure that nobody can be 
 surprised if, under (generally) cloudless skies, and 
 amid beautiful scenery, the whole nature of man for 
 once forgets its selfishness and inclines to languor 
 and love. 
 
 But to our tale. There was a mighty congress at 
 Pau in what we will call " Wild DayrelPs year." It 
 may have been love of change, pleasure, or scenery ; 
 it is to be hopod it was not in every case incipient 
 weakness of lungs that caused so unprecedented a 
 gathering. There were English and Scotch, Russians 
 and Americans, and last, not least, representatives of 
 the Emerald Isle — not Mulligans, nor hirsute de- 
 scendants of Brian-Boru, but pretty Irish girls, with 
 good figures and just a smack of the brogue, remind- 
 ing us of those we steered over Loch Corrib in days 
 gone by, when we rowed past the wooded demesne 
 of Clydagh, and skirted the banks of the Lake to 
 gain a nearer view of the red-petticoated peasant 
 girls, who, with pitchers on their heads, stopped to 
 gaze in wonderment at us adventurous mariners ; for 
 u 3 
 
294 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 the rocks were dangerous, even when we steered into 
 the middle to see to better advantage the Connemara 
 mountains, and the small silvery clouds chasing each 
 other along their rugged sides ; reminding us of the 
 pleasant, lively girls we took into dinner afterwards 
 at the hospitable mansion, who warbled Moore's 
 melodies when we returned to the drawing-room, and 
 danced to the voluptuous Olga and dashing Priscilla 
 airs into the smallest of the small hours ; reminding 
 us of our companions at Killarney, whom we pic- 
 nicked with at the Punch Bowl and escorted to 
 Mucross, whom we ferried across the far-famed Lakes, 
 and walked with — but then it was the selected one — 
 in the fir plantations and by the mountain ravines. 
 And those we met in Ireland and those we met at Pau 
 made us such true believers in the beauty, kindness 
 of heart, and talents of the daughters of Erin, that 
 we were compelled to answer rudely their simpering 
 English sister when she said, " So you admire the 
 Irish. Now, do tell me, donH they always let you 
 kiss them wjjen you ask the favour." 
 
 One of these, Kate Berners, was a true Irish girl, 
 inheriting the characteristic beauty and wit of her fair 
 compatriots. Do not imagine for a moment that we 
 are going to paint a terrestrial angel, or a seraphim in 
 petticoats. We are only speaking of a blue-eyed lively 
 young lady of nineteen, with a good figure, and an 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 295 
 
 unaffected simple manner, that took immensely with 
 the most critical audience. She and her mother and 
 sister lived at some distance from the tittle-tattle of 
 Pau, in a chateau on one of the hills between the 
 Pyrenees and the town. The mother was the oppo- 
 site of her daughter ; a strong-minded woman, she 
 looked to the main chance, that of marrying her 
 daughters well, as the be-all and end-all of existence. 
 No one knew better than she the relative value of 
 pawns, knights, and bishops, on the matrimonial 
 chess-board. Had the daughter but seconded her 
 plans, the two might have given away a knight and 
 a pawn, and fairly checkmated the cleverest of her 
 opponents. 
 
 Dayrell first met the famille Berners at a dance, in 
 the house of one of those philanthropic ladies who, 
 having no daughters of their own, love to see others 
 happy, or rather in fair progress to what they con- 
 sider the summum bonum of human happiness — the- 
 tying of the conjugal knot. Now, since the sad 
 event at Ems, Dayrell had quite altered in his beha- 
 viour to the fair sex. He never gave any preference 
 to blonde or brunette, but, treating all alike, caused 
 more than one Flora or Angelina to misinterpret 
 (though they sturdily denied it) the empressement 
 which he threw into his conversation. As a matter 
 of course, a pretty girl like Kate Berners had, before 
 u 4 
 
296 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 our hero's arrival, a string of admirers, all in dif- 
 ferent stages of the love-fever. A careful observer 
 might have ticketed them, beginning with number 
 one down to little Bouncer, who could get no higher 
 on the list than number ten. Kate's, or rather her 
 mother's, favourite was one Francis Townley, whose 
 property — his great recommendation in the maternal 
 eye — was a Yorkshire reality — at least so said Mr. 
 Burke, amongst other useful revelations. He had an 
 uncle too, not one of the " golden balls,^^ but a bond 
 fide capitalist, who was supposed to have executed a 
 last will and testament in favour of his nephew. 
 When you had ascribed unto Townley the attributes 
 of a gentleman, you had said all you could in his 
 favour. Every other quality he possessed might best 
 be described by a negative. He was not amusing, 
 nor good looking, nor original (a dozen ancient 
 witticisms and wise saws being alone at his disposal), 
 nor was he a good dancer, or fond of field sports. 
 Let us add, that he was a " muff," — a good natured 
 one, 'tis true ; but it is not everybody who thinks the 
 latter epithet a compliment. 
 
 Dayrell was introduced to Kate early in the even- 
 ing ; and his fund of conversation and good waltzing 
 certainly made a favourable impression. He danced 
 three times with her, enjoyed *^ liberal sittings out" 
 over tea and negus in the other cool and refreshing 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 297 
 
 apartment, and congratulated himself on having thus 
 early in his apprenticeship at Pau found a clever 
 and amusing companion. Promotion in the good 
 graces of our womankind resembles, in some re- 
 spects, the much abused system in vogue in her 
 majesty's army. To gain a step in the latter you 
 must purchase. The highest bidder steps over the 
 head of other competitors. Poor Couterbound's 
 name is first on the list of lieutenants, but unto 
 him is denied the entrance into the " glorious army " 
 of captains. So the acre-less and fund-less individual 
 lingers long on the bars of the matrimonial ladder, 
 and often sadly sees the rich noodle promoted to the 
 vacant post. But here the similarity ends, that is to 
 say, as long our royal commander-in-chief considers 
 promotion by selection invidious j for our young ladies 
 will at times neglect the old system of purchase, and 
 promote to the post of first favourite the most de- 
 serving, albeit, perhaps, the most penniless of their 
 admirers. Dayrell reaped that evening all the be- 
 nefits accruing from this weak point in the ladies' 
 catechism, and jumped over the heads of many de- 
 serving candidates for Miss Kate's good opinion. 
 
 In the meantime, the maternal eye quickly 
 mastered the situation. As we have hinted, that 
 judicious matron had settled upon Townley as her 
 future son-in-law, and oft as she turned restlessly in 
 
298 WILD DAYBELL. 
 
 the family four-poster, had pondered over the best 
 plan to make " that man " propose. In her eyes the 
 advent of Dayrell was a special interposition of Pro^ 
 vidence — a kind of useful machine for awakening the 
 pangs of jealousy in the torpid soul of Townley ; and 
 in her fluttering bosom she matured her scheme, — 
 yes, chuckled over her new idea, as we may suppose 
 the first Napoleon did, when he formed the " cutting 
 out " plan that won the battle of Austerlitz. Mothers, 
 as we all know, contribute more to the settlement of 
 the day sacred to bridesmaids and orange-flowers, than 
 even the strong influences that the " fair selected " 
 can bring to bear upon her swain. The former can 
 wield a potent weapon — it is called flattery. Let 
 them but use it with discretion, and speedily will the 
 booby man commit himself to that " for better or 
 worse ^' state, to the chances of which the matri- 
 monial service candidly admits we must all be sub- 
 servient. In Townley^s absence that evening, she 
 matured her plan. When returning Kate to the 
 shelter of the maternal wing, Mrs. Berners spoke to 
 Dayrell in terms the most flattering and motherly ; 
 flattering to himself, and gushing over with aff'ection 
 for her daughter. Then she hoped he would visit 
 them at their country retreat. "It is some little 
 distance," she said in excuse, " but then you have no 
 
WILD DAYEELL. 299 
 
 flowers or gardens at Pau, and no view to be compared 
 with ours." And having fixed her arrow dexterously 
 she sailed out of the room with Kate, leaving Dayrell 
 in a pleasant state of flutter and surprise. 
 
 " Strange thing for me to meet such nice people 
 the first night I go out at Pau; and Miss Kate, 
 charming girl ; no money, I suppose. Young ladies 
 residing in foreign towns seldom have. All the more 
 likely to find a husband who will marry her for her 
 own merits. I should like to see a little more of 
 them, and this ' retreat' of theirs," thought Dayrell. 
 So three days after the ball, he was doing what the 
 irreverent Bouncer called "the grind" in the direc- 
 tion of the Berners' house. It was three miles from 
 the town, on a ridge of hills exactly opposite Pau. 
 The detour that had to be made to cross the Gave 
 took him through Jurangon, near the " Trafalgar '' 
 of Pau, where Madame Cuisine serves a dinner at a 
 guinea a-head, and is accustomed to the sight of 
 " flushed faces in a setting sun," and the songs that 
 follow that disorderly symposium. Then through a 
 well-cultivated plain to the ridge, where work for the 
 back sinews began, and a self-imposed treadmill up 
 a steep incline. Half-way up the ascent Dayrell 
 stopped to take breath, and saw the trelhs-work, 
 where in summer — 
 
300 WILD DAYEELL. 
 
 " The vines (not nailed to walls) from tree to tree 
 Festooned, much like the back scenes of a play, 
 Or melodrama, which the people flock to see. 
 When the first act is ended by a dance 
 In vineyards copied from the South of France." 
 
 "Very pretty, is it not?'' interrupted Crotchet, 
 ex-captain in Her Majesty's 6 — th regiment, who 
 was paying a visit to the famille Berners with his 
 friend Townley, and smoking his afternoon cigar on 
 the terrace outside their house. "You have just 
 arrived in time for the animated discussion going 
 on in that drawing-room, as to how they are to 
 put one hundred and fifty people into a room calcu- 
 lated to hold not more than fifty at the most, and 
 how they can have an archery meeting in that field, 
 surrounded, as you see, on the three sides by the 
 public road, without seriously endangering the lives 
 of the passers-by. I left Townley with the mother 
 and daughters. He was then in great perplexity, 
 stroking his moustaches, and suggesting that the 
 bed-rooms should be turned into supper-rooms, an 
 idea the ladies hardly relished. Do go in and help 
 him. I will join you when I have finished my cigar." 
 
 " Can you help us to settle the point ?" asked Mrs. 
 Berners, after welcoming Dayrell to their chateau, 
 and explaining their difficulty. 
 
 " The point settles me," he replied ; " for archery 
 I never practised. Yes, I beg pardon; I did once. 
 
WILD DATRELL. 301 
 
 speaking literally, not metaphorically, draw the long 
 bow. It was in a new mown hay-field belonging to 
 a clergyman en retraite, who devoted his time to 
 improving the breed of cows and fowls, instead of 
 attending to the ^ cure of souls/ It may have been 
 a judgment on him for his dereliction of duty ; but 
 my second arrow, winging an erratic flight, lodged 
 itself in the haunch of one of his veteran grass-fed 
 Alderney herd.'* 
 
 ''What did he say, Mr. Dayrell?" 
 
 " Much the same as the Oxford crews did, when, 
 on three occasions, they ran into and consequently 
 upset my skiff on the Isis — ' Now, stupid, why don't 
 you take lessons at home before you come and 
 practise here ? ' " 
 
 " I am quite surprised," said Mrs. Berners; "your 
 county, Sussex, is famed for archers. You have 
 Mr. Ford, at Brighton, and the Miss Mackays, at 
 St. Leonard's, and other great performers to instruct 
 you in the art. Besides, did you never try to win a 
 prize at Coneyborough Park ? " 
 
 " I forgot that celebrated occasion, when I won a 
 real trophy. Small glory, however, for me, seeing 
 that I was the only competitor for the visitor's prize. 
 As a reward for putting one arrow into ' outer white,' 
 the stewards offered me the choice between a curi- 
 ously wrought-iron card-case and a silver arrow. I 
 
302 WILD DAYEELL. 
 
 selected the latter, intending to wear it as a breast- 
 pin, and was horribly disgusted at finding that, after 
 a few days, it lost its effulgency and displayed the 
 skill of the fabricator in transmuting tin, for the 
 time being, into the expensive metal silver. This, 
 perhaps, damped my ardour, and made me prefer 
 Lilywhite's bowling and the ars cricketica to the 
 science of archery. Sussex, in fact, only taught me 
 three things : — To play cricket, to ride down the 
 steepest hill-side fearlessly^ and with a loose rein, 
 and to eat its far-famed pudding without fear of 
 indigestion. Still, it is fair to state, that I left it at 
 an early age, and have been a wanderer ever since.'^ 
 
 "You would not have left Yorkshire so soon," 
 said Townley. " It is the finest county in England, 
 has the prettiest scenery, and the most hospitable 
 inhabitants." 
 
 " I thought very little of it, when I stayed near 
 Malton on my return from the Highlands. I saw 
 nothing but flat moorlands, a cold soil, and had 
 indifferent shooting." 
 
 "Everything in this world is comparative" (a 
 stereotyped Townleian phrase). "If you had come 
 from any other part of the world but Scotland, you 
 would have told a very different tale." 
 
 " Mr. Townley is always comparative," said Kate. 
 "The other day he said our house, gardens, and 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 303 
 
 view, would appear quite tame to any person coming 
 from Berne or Tivoli." 
 
 " Mr. Dayrell has not seen the garden/' Mamma 
 put in. " Take him out, Kate, and show him the 
 view that all our visitors admire so much." 
 
 Exeunt Miss Kate and Dayrell through the open 
 window into the garden, cut into those fantastic 
 shapes — triangles, octagons, and crescents — that 
 English horticulturists love, with grass walks hetween 
 the beds and turfed slopes at the four sides, with 
 knotted roots of trees for seats, and fanciful arbours, 
 where roses and blackthorns grew most luxuriantly, 
 the handiwork, for the most part, of Kate, vice the 
 old Benedictine Abbot resigned . Pretty little heretic, 
 as she appears in her garden-hat and long strings ; 
 verily, the old superior Benedictinus would turn 
 round in his coffin yonder, and forgive the usurpation, 
 could he but see her tripping along the walk in this 
 whilom home of the faithful. Even the old carp in 
 the pond — cotemporaries, they say, of many an 
 abbot, and of any age from 50 to 500 — must love 
 the change of dynasty, and the fair hands that throw 
 them crumbs of bread. See, how they testify their 
 confidence by lazy rises to the surface, and still lazier 
 descents to their sub-lily retreats ; and our Kate's 
 merry laugh rings through the summer-house that 
 overhangs the perpendicular hill-side — happy change 
 
304 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 from the old abbot^s solemn voice — not always so 
 solemn either, if what they say be true, that ofttimes 
 that holy man, with his brother convives, here passed 
 the hours of eve, sipping the best of Bordeaux wine. 
 
 "So those, Miss Berners, are the remains of a real 
 abbey, and you did not build an artificial ruin by 
 way of adding to the natural beauty of the scene. 
 I suppose the old lay brethren, like Sheridan's 
 monks, used to waddle down to this summer-house 
 with corkscrews hanging from their waists, and bot- 
 tles in each hand to set before their Sanctissimus 
 Pater." 
 
 " I am afraid, Mr. Dayrell, you are a very poor 
 historian,^' answered Kate. "The art of making 
 bottles was not invented in those days" (she had read 
 that in the " Welcome Guest ; '* Dayrell saw it open 
 on the table at the very place, as he came in), " they 
 used leathern jugs.^^ 
 
 '^You are quite right. Miss Berners, similar to 
 those they had at Winchester College and the Hospi- 
 tal of St. Cross. We boys used to tell old Governor 
 Swipes, as we irreverently nicknamed the porter of 
 the latter place, to fill the ' flowing ' jug with my 
 Lord of Guildford's mild ale. He did so. On one 
 occasion, when his back was turned, we emptied a 
 handkerchief of gravel and dust into the same re- 
 ceptacle of beer. He was not friendly after that. 
 
WILD DAYEELL. 305 
 
 not at all ; he literally drove us from his door when 
 we petitioned for a refreshing draught.'^ 
 
 " How very mischievous/* observed Kate ; " and 
 yet I ought not to say much, for my cousins behaved 
 quite as shamefully to their papa and his friends, 
 when one 20th of August they abstracted the whiskey 
 from the flask, and the beer from the case-jar, and 
 refilling each with water, dispatched them with 
 luncheons to the moors." 
 
 And so they talked, and left the summer-house for 
 a peep, cut through the foliage, and which com- 
 manded one of the finest views of the Pyrenees. 
 They saw in front the grand line of the snow-clad 
 mountains, the pine forests clinging to their sides, 
 and the green flax fields at their base, relieving the 
 eye when dazzled by the whiteness of the snow, or 
 wearied by the more sombre colour of the trees. To 
 the north they had a severe contrast to the former, 
 in the apparently interminable plain, in which the 
 works of man — the white houses, the chateaux of 
 Pau and Bizanos — were but as mere specks in the 
 indefinite sweep of the landes and forests. 
 
 " Magnificent," observed Dayrell. "I must confess 
 that this view is far more splendid and comprehensive 
 than that which my friend the baron commands from 
 his chateau near Rouen, and so proudly said of it 
 — ' Voilttj monsieur J la vue de V UniversJ I can see 
 
306 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 the Pic du Midi and the Mount Perdue, but not 
 the Maladetta." 
 
 " That is not visible from here," said Kate ; " all 
 our visitors ask for it, because it is the highest peak 
 of the Pyrenees. Then they declare their intention 
 of scaling it next summer, but in October are sure to 
 find some excuse for their failure. Captain Crotchet 
 came back and said that there was too much snow — 
 far more than ever had been known before. Poor 
 little Mr. Bouncer confesses to having mounted half- 
 way to the summit, when the Spanish guides objected 
 to ascending higher without an extra douceur, and 
 * you know,' he innocently admits, ' I wasn't big 
 enough to threaten them with summary chastisement 
 if they would not adhere to their original agree- 
 ment.' " 
 
 Prattle on, pretty Kate, and enter fully into the 
 spirit of the three-volumed novel that Dayrell says 
 he will write, taking the legends of the Pyrenees for 
 a subject, and your " eyrie ^' as the habitation of the 
 haughty baron who wooed y^ fair maiden of humble 
 origin, and who in consequence of the said baron's 
 advances, thought proper to drown herself. For 
 further particulars respecting which, apply to the 
 author of that original work entitled '' La Bidosse." 
 Talk on, we say, while Townley is fidgeting in yonder 
 drawing-room, and is sorely perplexed by the ques- 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 307 
 
 tions of your indefatigable mamma. That able 
 tactician knows how a little judicious rivalry fans the 
 flame of love; and has she not done well, in the 
 words of the sporting writers, to put in Dayrell to 
 make the running for the favourite Townley. Let 
 us — carrying out the same metaphor — hope that she 
 will not, like some clever trainers, make any mistake 
 in the capabilities of the respective competitors for 
 the Berners stakes. Even when at length she per- 
 mits Townley to go into the garden, she keeps him 
 by her side like a Blenheim spaniel with a string, 
 anxious, as she says, to have the opinion of an author 
 upon horticulture (Townley had once written a letter 
 to the Field, deprecating the use of manure water for 
 roses, and had been severely handled by Hawthorn, 
 Mignionette, and other correspondents in conse- 
 quence), as it was her intention to make some new 
 flower beds in the spring. 
 
 " You cannot do better," drawled out Townley, in 
 answer to a volley of questions, and quoting a part 
 of his celebrated epistle to the paper. '' Continue to 
 prick off the tender plants, and forward them as 
 much as possible." 
 
 " That is Kate's business,^' said mamma, innocently 
 adding, " I wonder where she has taken Mr. Dayrell. 
 Let us look in the arbour ; every one goes there to 
 see our view of the mountains." 
 x2 
 
308 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 Totally unconscious of the maternal scheme^ or of 
 being the cause of inquietude to Townley, Dayrell 
 sauntered back into the garden with Kate, and met 
 Mrs. Berners and her victim. 
 
 '^ A splendid view you have/' said he, addressing 
 the latter, " and a delightful country, though hardly 
 one that we fox-hunters should admire. Yet I can- 
 not agree with my Leicestershire friend, who says he 
 hates a country he cannot cross on horseback/' 
 
 "That reminds me,^' said Mamma, "that Kate 
 wants to see your hounds. Do you think it safe for 
 her to go? If a party could be made for Wed- 
 nesday, and you could join, Mr. Dayrell, I would 
 place implicit confidence m your keeping her out of 
 mischief and danger. Mr. Townley says that he 
 rides but little, and would sooner drive to the meet." 
 Dayrell was far too good a judge to refuse such 
 " crumbs of comfort " as chance threw in his 
 way. So he remarked, glancing first at Kate, and 
 then looking full at Townley, " We shall be highly 
 honoured with the duties imposed upon us." An 
 assumption that called forth at the moment no reply 
 from Mr. T. Dayrell then took his leave, having 
 refused an invitation to dinner, which Townley and 
 Crotchet accepted, wisely preferring this hospitable 
 table to the wretched cuisine of the Hotel de la 
 Poste. 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 309 
 
 "Splendid girl, is she not, Crotchet? Did you 
 hear her sing that, what's its name, from Don 
 Giovanni — Bolla sua pace? No affectation about 
 her, I tell you, like Fanny Tibbets, or Clara Fane, 
 but her whole soul was in the music. Crotchet, old 
 fellow, I will tell you a secret, but you must promise 
 not to repeat it. A lady is the cause of my visit to 
 the South of France. You ought to have seen the 
 pretty girl in Yorkshire, with whom I fell desperately 
 in love, to the horror of my mother and sisters, who 
 were afraid of my marrying her. They disapproving 
 the match, implored me, literally on their knees, to 
 travel for a year, and so, if possible, forget her. 
 Almost the first person I meet is the counterpart of 
 my The same hair, the same com- 
 plexion, the same figure ; upon my word, Crotchet, 
 I hardly believe my eyes, but she is as like 
 as " 
 
 But the simile was not completed by the speaker, 
 who will at once bo recognized as Townley, when, on 
 returning to Pau, after the Berners dinner, he 
 relieved his breast of his overwhelming secret. 
 
 The net has been skilfully laid, thought Crotchet ; 
 the lark is gradually coming down from that high 
 flight it took some three weeks ago, when it warbled 
 so melodiously about the absurdity of marriage, and' 
 a man tying himself up for life. Pretending igno- 
 x3 
 
310 WILD DATRELL. 
 
 ranee, however, of his friend's design, he simply 
 remarked, — 
 
 " I suppose, Townley, you will ask her to sit 
 for her portrait, which you can hang in your room, 
 and keep as a constant reminder of your Yorkshire 
 original." 
 
 " Nonsense, Crotchet ; you know what I mean, — 
 
 I ought to marry at once, and as in Yorkshire 
 
 is out of the question, why not Kate Berners ? If I 
 only knew how to begin, I would soon find an oppor- 
 tunity of proposing. What did you say to Miss 
 Blades, Crotchet?" 
 
 '^ Said very little, as far as I can remember. A 
 squeeze of the hand (it was at supper after a ball), 
 a look into her eyes, and a whisper about ' mine for 
 ever,' finished the most important part. In two 
 minutes all was over but the task of persuading her 
 guardian to look at my governor's unpunctually-paid 
 subsidies in the light of a valuable property, in 
 which, as you know, I was unsuccessftd. Popping 
 the question, my dear fellow, is the easiest thing in 
 the world, especially for acred and funded esquires 
 like yourself. Shake off all timidity ; be natural for 
 once ; go at the fence in earnest, and I warrant you 
 will land safe on the other side." 
 
 " Easy it may be perhaps ; but I have an idea she 
 will refuse me point blank. Did you see how she 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 311 
 
 walked with that Dayrell this afternoon ? You heard, 
 I suppose, the remark she made, when I told her 
 that I thought of applying for the post of attache to 
 the embassy at Vienna — that she read in some book, 
 that a man only became a diplomatist, because he 
 was good for nothing else." 
 
 " Suppose she does politely * remand' you, there 
 will be no great harm done. You must wear the 
 willow like a man, or wait a little, and then try 
 again. It is wonderful how young ladies, when 
 they have thought the matter over, and become, 
 as it were, accustomed to it, will change their 
 minds. Stay ; I have it. Why not propose to the 
 mother?" 
 
 " Propose to the mother !'* 
 
 "I mean for Kate. Make a long speech to 
 the maternal parent. Dwell pathetically on the 
 unalterable state of your feelings. Delicately hint 
 that you can make a respectable settlement, and 
 wind up by asking for her intercession with the 
 daughter." 
 
 "A capital idea," said Townley, as he stood on 
 Pan bridge, and looked down on the Gave, as it 
 sparkled in the moonlight. " Propose to the mother, 
 that will simplify the proceedings.^' 
 
 And the two worthies bid each other good night. 
 Crotchet wended his way to the French club to see 
 x4 
 
312 WILD DAYEELL. 
 
 if Monsieur Diabole was following up his nightly 
 vein of luck at ecarUj and Townley to his pillow, 
 where he conned over a masterly and effective speech, 
 every word of which he had forgotten by the time 
 he awoke next morning. 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 313 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Archery is a pretty and lady-like amusement. On 
 the plain of Bilheres, below the park at Pan, it is 
 conducted on much the same principle, and with 
 about the same average of good and bad shooting, 
 as elsewhere. But we have our doubts, whether it 
 is a judicious field for the aspirant to matrimonial 
 honours to practice her role. True, that at the 
 meeting of the fair competitors, beauty's bow is 
 strung by the hand of her admirer. By him are her 
 " snakes^' disembowelled from the tenacious sward, 
 and her arrows picked up and restored at the end of 
 each round. But when these opportunities for carrying 
 on the game of flirtation have been enumerated, all 
 has been said that can be put down to the credit-side 
 of archery. There is too much attention required ; 
 too much absence of mind on the part of the fair 
 performer; too much moving backwards and for- 
 wards between the butts j and too large a concourse 
 of the fair sex, to render it a profitable occasion for 
 ^'improving" an acquaintance. Besides, no girl, 
 
314 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 when in the presence of her fair rivals, likes to give 
 too much encouragement to a suitor, — a fact that 
 may, or may not, account for the indifference with 
 which Townley was received by Kate at the next 
 meeting of the Toxopholites. 
 
 Bravo, little Ellen Callister, you have hit the gold, 
 and Fanny Tibbets, of the commanding stature and 
 strong muscular development of arm, steps forward 
 and congratulates the little girl in all the conscious- 
 ness of her own superior talent. Townley calls it a 
 coup dore, and is rebuked by Fanny, who remarks, 
 that if, instead of making French jokes, he would 
 abstain from treading on her arrows, he would render 
 her a great service. Yes, Miss Tibbets, of the 
 Basses Plant es, has the command of eirea irrepoevra. 
 No one we should like better to have on our side in 
 a tough discussion. So we will make a memorandum 
 to dance the first and fourth quadrilles with her at 
 Mrs. Mainchance's ball to-night. That attention 
 may be returned with interest, ere many days have 
 elapsed. Other good shots are made, and more 
 applause is given; then the numbers are counted, and 
 victory is awarded to the blondes, who, with becoming 
 modesty, attribute their success to luck. An impro- 
 vised luncheon in a tent follows, and Townley seizes 
 the opportunity of letting off some bad jokes about 
 long bows, Beau Brummel, &c., that would have 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 315 
 
 brought tears into the eyes of that jocose individual, 
 Joe Miller himself. Kate said nothing; but Townley 
 was too conceited to put a right construction on her 
 silence. 
 
 In comparison, however, with this scene, how dif- 
 ferently every body turned out to meet the hounds 
 on the appointed Wednesday. The sport of kings, 
 as Mr. Jorrocks termed it, is quite the opposite to 
 the tame passer le temps amusement of archery. 
 Look at Kate with her feathers flying, and the 
 colour mantling on her cheek, as by the hghtest of 
 touches she let her horse know that she has a whip, 
 and could use it if she chose ; and look at the steed 
 itself, who, if it has not the points of an Eclipse, 
 seems made to carry so light and lovely a burden. 
 "Jolly companions every one," in pink and sable 
 coats respectively, are jogging along the Bordeaux 
 road, all of them determined to be in at the death of 
 the wily animal, provided they are not spread-eagled 
 first in some bog in the landes. There are carriages 
 en route, with ladies inside, who for the nonce will 
 talk sporting, and ask anxiously when the hounds 
 will "throw ofi",^' and what covers are to be "drawn." 
 Townley is not on wheels, as intended, but rides one 
 of Boiteux's hacks, which that worthy tells him ne 
 tombe jamais. " The mechant bit that piece out of 
 his knee," continues Boiteux, seeing his customer 
 
316 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 glance suspiciously below, " rnais il ne tombe jamais, 
 Jamais.'^ And Townley bestrides the animal that 
 never falls, after the manner of a French priest who 
 visits the distant parts of his cure once a month on 
 horseback. He sits well forward on his saddle, his 
 toes are turned out, the tips of his feet only being in 
 the stirrup irons, and his bridle is nearer his chin 
 than the pommel of his saddle. Yellow cords, glossy 
 hat, patent leather boots, and white kid gloves, com- 
 plete Townley's preparations for the chase. But 
 master huntsman and hounds are at the meet, pic- 
 turesquely grouped in the fern and heather of the 
 race course, some minutes before the most punctual 
 members of the hunt arrive. 
 
 "Remember, Miss Berners, you are under my 
 guidance to-day,'^ said Dayrell, riding up in full 
 hunting costume. *^*^Your mother made me com- 
 mander-in-chief, so if we find a fox, you must allow 
 me to pilot you through the lanes.^^ 
 
 " Oh ! never mind me, Mr. Dayrell, I shall be safe 
 enough with" — this was said sotto voce- — "Fanny 
 Tibbets as a chaperone; Mr. Boiteux^s horse," she 
 added archly, "may run away, and then I cannot 
 help seeing some of the fun. But look," continued 
 she, pointing with her whip to an object in pink dis- 
 appearing behind a bank ; " that man will certainly 
 kill himself. That is the second time he has alighted 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 317 
 
 on his horse's neck. So unnecessary too. Why 
 does he not stay in the road ? '' 
 
 "He officiates as amateur whipper-in," replied 
 Dayrell. "He is a munificent subscriber to the 
 hunt, and is allowed to show off in that questionable 
 manner. You see his efforts have not done any 
 good; for that hungry hound Bountiful, having 
 pounced upon a rabbit, scented mischief from afar, 
 and has retired into the brake with the remains of 
 bunny in his mouth.'' 
 
 The hounds drew at least half-a-dozen coverts 
 blank, and, when a fox was found, behaved scurvily, 
 disappointing the ladies who came to view a pretty 
 sight. We cannot record a fact like this ; " that an 
 old dog-fox broke cover, and, waving his brush in 
 defiance, faced the open with all the gallant bearing 
 of his species." On this occasion the wily one 
 slipped away, and the field had to take it upon faith 
 that they were pursuing a bond fide fox. They spent 
 an uninteresting quarter of an hour in cantering 
 along rides in single file, in threading their way 
 through sylvan alleys, and, more than once, swishing 
 through the overgrown brushwood. It even looked 
 at one moment, by the sudden turn the hounds 
 made, that Reynard's fate was prematurely sealed ; in 
 which case Kate would have received a brush, and 
 certain timid people been delighted by the premature 
 
318 WILD DATRELL. 
 
 conclusion of the run. Happily, however, it was 
 ordained otherwise; for the fox suddenly made up 
 his mind that the woods were no longer tenable, and 
 set his head northward for the stronghold of Sau- 
 vagnon. 
 
 That the first flight went well we are in a position 
 to ajBfirm, from having had many opportunities of 
 witnessing their performances. But as, for the nonce, 
 what befell the ladies, or rather lady and Dayrell, is 
 of more importance, we must content ourselves with 
 reporting the deeds of those who played the humble 
 part of follow my leader. Boiteux^s nag, with a light 
 weight and a willing rider on its back, had not the 
 slightest objection to the " obstacles," but took them 
 in such legitimate on-and-off style, as to deceive 
 Kate into the idea that hunting was all "plain- 
 sailing." Her confidence, as well as her excitement, 
 increased each minute ; so much so that her hand- 
 kerchief, which she accidentally dropped, was sacri- 
 ficed to the goodness of the pace, and is, perhaps to 
 this day, fluttering in some retentive furze bush. 
 "How very unlady-like." Perhaps it is; but for- 
 give her, madam, if you please, excitement may 
 have once carried you beyond the strictest rules of 
 decorum. 
 
 " Well done, Miss Berners, none but the brave 
 deserve the brush," cried Dayrell, as he and Kate 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 319 
 
 emerged into a lane. " Follow me, and, as long as 
 the hounds run in this direction, we can, by riding 
 parallel, keep them in view." 
 
 His orders were strictly followed by Kate, much 
 to the detriment of her habit, so far as copious 
 splashing and mud can injure that unsightly gar- 
 ment. 
 
 " Steady," said our pilot, checking his fair com- 
 panion. '^The hounds have turned to the right. 
 Can you face the Landes a second time V^ 
 
 The appeal was answered by Kate — or rather her 
 horse — scrambling over a bank, and the pair were 
 again within reasonable distance of the flying pack. 
 We must be allowed in this hunting narrative to 
 change the proverb, " Pride comes before a fall," into 
 " A fall follows a display of pride." Look at young 
 Skittles, how he plumes himself on the way he 
 charged that Aylesbury double, and proudly alludes 
 to his performance, as he gallops by the side of the 
 steady, earnest Master of the Pack, who thinks 
 jumping quite secondary to what the hounds are 
 doing. The next yawning ditch provides a berth for 
 poor Skittles, and the M. F. H., with a look of pity, 
 mutters to himself, " Better for him if he had been 
 thinking about what he had to do — a fall follows a 
 display of pride.^^ So — and we are very sorry to 
 have to record it — our pretty Kate, in the exhilara- 
 
320 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 tion of the moment, called Dayrell's attention to a 
 small brook over which she had triumphantly jumped. 
 This momentary diversion from the attention she had 
 hitherto paid to her horse^ caused the animal to 
 blunder at a bank, and land its fair rider on the 
 green turf of a lane. Dayrell was at her side, and 
 assisting her in a moment. To his question, " Are 
 you hurt?^^ he received a reassuring reply in the 
 negative. Some valuable moments, however, were 
 lost in shaking out disordered plumes and re-adjust- 
 ment in the saddle. But no sooner placed there than 
 she expressed her wish to go on, and strained her 
 eyes to catch a glance of the flying pack. Alas ! 
 pretty Kate, the loss of a few minutes in a run are 
 irrecoverable. You may look where you will, but 
 you will neither see nor hear anything in those fields 
 where, but just now, men, hounds, and horses passed 
 in their joyous career. Like Robinson Crusoe, you 
 may light upon the imprints of their feet, and so 
 hunt the trail ; you may see the broken bank where 
 the tail scrambled over, and the open gates where 
 Messrs. Shirk and Crane passed through and avoided 
 a dangerous fence. But no living thing will meet 
 your eye, unless it may be an old rook, who, 
 perched on a bough aloft, salutes you with its mocking 
 caw. 
 
 " It is no use persevering, Miss Berners, we are 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 331 
 
 not likely to fall in with the hounds again ; and, 
 besides, I think your horse is lame. It would be 
 better for us to look for some farm house, where the 
 mud might be removed from your habit, and then 
 ride slowly home. If you don^t wipe out those ugly 
 stains, the authorities at your house will never let 
 you hunt again, and might, on your arrival, hand you 
 over to the doctor's tender mercies." 
 
 Kate cast one wistful look in the direction the 
 hounds had taken, one rueful glance at the line of 
 hills topped by the forest of Sauvagnon, and said 
 with a sigh, "We were going so well, when my 
 horse made that stupid mistake. I had set my heart 
 on winning the brush to-day. But I suppose, Mr. 
 Dayrell, we must go home." 
 
 Dayrell was not one of those who subscribe to the 
 idea, that every man admires the lily but loves the 
 rose. Courage, better expressed by the word pluck, 
 in his eyes, was of far more worth than the gentler 
 attributes of the fair sex. Possibly a maid of Sara- 
 gossa, a Joan of Arc (provided they were pretty), or 
 a Beatrice de Cenci, would have won his heart in the 
 presence of the powerful rivalry of drooping eye- 
 lashes and impassive beauty, yes, even of Andalusia. 
 In a new light had Kate Berners suddenly appeared 
 to him, — to him who for two years and a-half had 
 been almost insensible to woman^s presence, or at 
 
 Y 
 
322 WILD DAYRELL 
 
 the most had treated such as he met to the barren 
 honours of common-place talk. No man falls so 
 surely or so precipitately as he who puts implicit 
 faith in his powers of resisting woman's fascination. 
 Like the water of a mill-dam that has been pent up 
 for years, and only niggardly poured its silver stream 
 on the wheel, when some chance causes it to burst, 
 its rush and flood are fearful. So Dayreirs feelings 
 seemed to break loose within him, and the old nature, 
 which never can be shaken off entirely, resumed its 
 sway, all the more strongly from the artificial barrier 
 that had so long enthralled it. 
 
 Dayrell could talk fluently and to the point on 
 most subjects. But now, when he breathed the 
 passion he felt into his conversation, his words fell 
 with an irresistible force. Kate listened, more as- 
 tonished than convinced, to what he said. That the 
 immaculate Dayrell should descend from his pedestal, 
 was, after what she had heard of his character, an 
 unexpected result. Is he in earnest ? thought Kate, 
 or is it only the infatuation of a moment ? And she 
 might, there and then, have lent herself to the former 
 notion ; she might have been led into the belief of a 
 good time coming; or, who can tell, might have 
 heard the all-important question asked, "Will you or 
 will you not ? Such things are at times done very 
 suddenly. But the solution of the mystery was not 
 
WILD DAYRBLL. 323 
 
 to be. Certain goodly sail-of-the-line appeared in 
 the horizon, to wit, Fanny Tibbets with her convoy, 
 who, in all the gushing innocence of the unmarried 
 state, poured forth their endearing expressions, "So 
 glad you are not lost," &c., accompanied by signi- 
 ficant glances that were not lost upon Kate. Un- 
 lucky meeting ! that consigned our Kate to the 
 cross-examining Fanny Tibbets, and Dayrell to Ellen 
 Callister, whom he endeavoured to amuse with such 
 stray ideas as came uppermost in his mind on their 
 road back to Pau. 
 
 Thus Dayrell, through Diana's agency, scored the 
 odd trick ; but he was by no means sure of the game, 
 much less of the rubber. Townley still held cards 
 in his hand, such as a skilful player might easily turn 
 to advantage. He might finesse his queen of trumps, 
 or, if that manoeuvre failed, he still had a rich hand 
 to fall back upon. That the latter lost to-day was 
 by no means his fault. As he said, on his return to 
 Pau, his horse was a puller, and carried him unwil- 
 ling through briar and brake in the wood where they 
 found, the results of which were manifested in a 
 crushed hat, a barked nose, a scratched face, and an 
 unfortunate rent in the yellow cords. Altogether, 
 the consequences of his day's hunting much resembled 
 those of our tennis-playing tyro, who told us in 
 lugubrious accents how he had spent his last half- 
 y2 
 
324 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 hour. '^ I went to the court/^ he said ; '' I became 
 very hot ; I missed the ball ; I tumbled down ; I cut 
 my knees; I scratched my hands; I broke my 
 racket; and then the marker called out, ^ Worse 
 than nothing ! ' " 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 325 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Three years have elapsed since we had occasion to 
 visit the legal sanctum. Tales still occupies his 
 well-worn arm-chair, a thought more grey, perhaps, 
 but plodding and persevering, as in days of yore. 
 Dayrell's affairs have lately occupied much of his 
 attention, and, more than once, has he grimly smiled, 
 when thinking how his management has succeeded, 
 and his prophecies have been fulfilled. Freeholds, 
 leaseholds, and ground rents have not been hurried 
 into the market, but sold gradually, and at the right 
 moment. Debts have been paid with the funds thus 
 realized ; and, on his arrival at Pan, Dayrell received 
 a welcome letter that informed him of the result. 
 *' There was but one thing wanting,^^ Tales wrote ; 
 *' your signature to certain deeds ; and, if you cannot 
 come here, my junior partner will bring the papers 
 to you.^' A pleasant arrangement for our hero, 
 who, for many reasons, did not wish, at present, to 
 leave the South of France. 
 
 But a circumstance of far greater importance to 
 y3 
 
326 WILD DATRELL. 
 
 Dayrell had occurred in the interim — the sudden 
 decease of a maiden aunt. This excellent lady, 
 when the news of her nephew's pecuniary downfall 
 was communicated to her, in the sorry-to-tell-you 
 accent, that relatives love to affect, did not, as 
 some aunts would have done, wipe out the dis- 
 honoured name from her last will and testament, 
 but appointed two trusty guardians of the 20,000/. 
 she had intended to leave him, without whose sanc- 
 tion the capital could not be touched. When, after 
 the manner of flesh in general, she retired to that 
 bourne, where countless distributions of flannel and 
 coals to the sick and needy are no doubt rewarded, 
 Dayrell found himself in the possession of compara- 
 tive riches, and the necessity for living in a garret, 
 which, by-the-bye, he had never recognized, entirely 
 superseded. In his present position, he felt like a 
 passenger coming by steamer from the opposite side 
 of the channel, who, at first starting, without being 
 in actual danger, has been rarely tossed about, and 
 rejoiceth when, under the lee of the land, he finds 
 himself in still water, and rapidly approaching the 
 port. 
 
 At this juncture arrived Tales^ partner, the bearer 
 of parchments, with the red wafer in the comer, 
 which the law required Dayrell to touch and 
 solemnly declare, " This is my act and deed,** We 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 327 
 
 never could understand the mystic rite, but suppose 
 it is somehow connected with the dark ages, maybe 
 with the practice of Crusaders and others, when they 
 laid their hands upon altars, and bound themselves 
 to undertake some unpleasant adventure. But, 
 however important the touching of the wafer may 
 be, we hope the personal character of the witness 
 does not affect the binding nature of the ceremony. 
 We presume it does not, on the ground that un- 
 worthy priests and judges may perform their re- 
 spective duties, without detracting one iota from the 
 benefits, which, by virtue of their office, they confer. 
 Were it otherwise, Hamber, Tales' agent, would not 
 have been a proper bearer of the legal documents. 
 
 Hamber was the son of a rich man, who, having 
 made his money by industry, had no idea of allowing 
 his hopeful to pursue an aimless life of indolence. 
 " Sir,'' said paterfamilias one day to his son after 
 dinner, " you must work, or you will never have a 
 penny of my money.'' So, bowing to stem necessity, 
 Hamber, junior, followed the paternal advice, and 
 sacrificed himself on the altar of writs and parch- 
 ments. In course of time. Tales, for pecuniary con- 
 sideration, was induced to receive him as a partner, 
 and straightway endeavoured to make the most of 
 his new recruit. It would be doing Hamber much 
 injustice to suppose that he was deficient in ability, 
 y4 
 
328 WILD DAYHELL. 
 
 or shrewdness. As a Bersagliero, or Guerilla, of the 
 legal profession, his talents were invaluable. Were 
 you to offer him fifty or a hundred pounds to do 
 something out of the routine, — for instance, trace a 
 bill, for which' no consideration had been given, or 
 arrange with Levi, or Solomon, for the return of 
 Spendthrift's acceptance — no one would be more 
 competent to hunt out the former, or badger the 
 latter. It was to the drudgery of business that his 
 soul refused to stoop, and made Tales regret that he 
 had received such a partner. 
 
 H amber's arrival at Pau was, of course, celebrated 
 by a dinner at the Hotel de France. Garderes, by 
 express appointment, brought from the inner crypt 
 the cobweb -covered bottles of Lafitte, in which his 
 heart delighted ; at least, we may conclude so from 
 the price charged in the bill. The first magnum 
 was rapidly waning and approaching the condition 
 known to the cognoscenti, as a " marine." Jean, the 
 waiter, inwardly anathematizing the habits of those 
 English, had in vain warned them of the late hour 
 by frequent flourishes of his napkin, when it struck 
 Dayrell that his new professional adviser would be an 
 excellent confidant for certain love-passages between 
 Kate Berners and himself. On hearing the name, 
 Hamber pricked up his ears. 
 
 ''Berners — Berners — not the plaintiff in the chan- 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 329 
 
 eery suit, is it ? I thought I had quite done with that 
 name. A few months ago, I had every reason to 
 dislike its repetition, so often did it occur in a 
 voluminous hrief that I had to copy for the firm to 
 which I was articled." 
 
 " The same, I should imagine/^ answered Dayrell. 
 " I understand they claim some estate in Lancashire, 
 and that the second hearing of the case has been 
 anxiously expected for the last two months." 
 
 A low whistle escaped from Hamber. ''Extra- 
 ordinary circumstance," he began ; " the most extra- 
 ordinary I ever recollect. Independent of what I 
 know from the papers I had to copy, I happen to be 
 acquainted with a fact that might — I say might — go a 
 long way to secure a verdict for your friends. The 
 case, T believe, is this. The plaintiffs rest their claim 
 on being direct descendants of a Mons. La Touche, 
 who died more than a hundred years ago. He left a 
 son and a daughter. Your friends have to prove 
 that the former died intestate, and without legitimate 
 children. Here is the hitch; no records can be 
 found. The firm I belonged to issued advertisements 
 asking for information. The only reply they re- 
 ceived was an anonymous letter, in which the writer 
 stipulated, first, that no questions were to be asked 
 ^s to how the knowledge was obtained; and secondly, 
 that a large reward should be paid before the trial 
 
330 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 came on. This proposition did not at all suit our 
 chief. Still, not liking to throw away a chance, he 
 gave me a kind of roving commission to find out the 
 man, and bring him, if possible, to reasonable terms. 
 I went four times, at least, to the coffee-house in the 
 city, from which the letters were addressed, before I 
 met the writer. He was a tall, dark-complexioned 
 man, of perhaps fifty years of age, more Hke an 
 Italian courier than an Englishman, and with a 
 slightly foreign accent * You know my terms, Mr. 
 Hamber,' he said, after I had introduced myself, and 
 stated the object of my visit. ' If you are prepared 
 to accede to them, we can do business immediately.^ 
 'Your secret, Mr. Thompson,' I said, 'is worth 
 nothing to other people. You may as well tell us ; 
 depend upon it, we shall be prepared to give a very 
 liberal reward if, through your agency, we get a 
 verdict.' ' Ahem ! ' remarked Thompson, looking 
 slily at me. ' You ought to know, Mr. Hamber, the 
 uncertainty of the law ; for ready money down the 
 secret is yours, and not otherwise.* ' But consider,' 
 said I, ' my chief's position. Supposing he pays the 
 money you ask, and your information is useless, what 
 a scrape he will be in with his client.' ' I cannot 
 help that, Mr. Hamber, I can make no alteration. 
 Mind, I tell you I am the only person who can put 
 you in possession of such papers as you require. 
 
WILD DAYKELL. 331 
 
 You must come to me^ sooner or later^ if you wish to 
 obtain them/ In short, I could do nothing with 
 him, and as Mrs. Berners objected to paying so large 
 a sum, Mr. Thompson's acquaintance was dropped. 
 He gave me one hint, however, before I left the 
 coflPee-room, to show perhaps that his agency could 
 not be dispensed with. 'The certificates,' he said, 
 * are not in England ; you may search for them, Mr. 
 Hamber, but you never can find them.^ Thus the 
 matter stood when I left the firm four months ago. 
 Whether the soi-disant Mr. Thompson has become 
 more communicative in the interim I have no means 
 of knowing.'^ 
 
 " Hamber,^' said Dayrell, " this must be worth an 
 enquiry. If I could raise the money, and I can too, 
 it would be the very thing for me to obtain this 
 information of Thompson's. Help yourself. Why 
 are you looking so grave ? " 
 
 " It is all moonshine, my dear Sir ; no good can 
 come out of it. Mark my words, it is only throwing 
 good money into the dirt." 
 
 " I '11 try it, Hamber, I will indeed, and you must 
 go to town and find that Thompson. You know I 
 am in funds again ; and, if we succeed, I will make 
 you a handsome present." 
 
 Hamber smiled at Dayrell's excitement, but, feel- 
 ing that any attempt to dissuade him this evening 
 
332 WILD DAYUELL. 
 
 would be useless, he trusted to a night's reflection 
 modifying his client's scheme. 
 
 "No liqueur, you say, Hamber; suppose we ad- 
 journ the meeting. I will introduce you to one of 
 the phases of life in these parts — a French club, not 
 political, but where the cry instead of ' Vive VEmpe- 
 reur' is ' Vive Tlmperiale! " 
 
 Representatives of various nationalities haunted 
 the French cercle in those days. English, French, 
 Irish, Germans, Spaniards, Americans, Moldavians, 
 and Russians joined the nightly reunions y and watched 
 with unwearying anxiety the cards dealt for ecarte 
 or Imperiale. Oh! for the graphic pencil of a 
 Hogarth, to sketch the faces that flitted round that 
 green table. Oh ! for a Thackercean pen to trace 
 their characters and antecedents. Mons. Diabole, 
 owner of the noisy voice, and distributor of apropos 
 remarks, first demands our attention. His signal 
 good luck, as much as his cast of feature, causing his 
 name to be Anglicised, and dwelt upon with much 
 emphasis. Report coupled his name with slave-trade 
 transactions at Sierra Leone. People who visit him, 
 say that he still retains a " bit of ebony" at his house 
 in the Basses Plantes, as a sort of 
 
 Memoria temporis acti. 
 
 That stout and burly barrister yonder is Monsieur 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 333 
 
 Hautvoix. He gives good and well-meant advice to 
 young England. " Don't play," lie says, " with that 
 canaille J ' — elegant name for his compatriots. " They 
 will win five francs of you, take them to market 
 to-morrow, and buy themselves a cabbage ! '* That 
 tall Eussian is a hero of Kars, whom the English 
 good-naturally call " the old card/' and in their in- 
 nocence believe that not only is he one of Alexander's 
 spies (what Russian traveller escapes the imputation?) 
 but that he is ignorant of the Saxon tongue. So, 
 when the Russian once approached a table where two 
 British youths, not liking their bad play to be criti- 
 cized, were finishing a game of ecarte, he heard one 
 remark to his companion, that it was only " the old 
 card." Fancy the astonishment of the speaker, when 
 the colonel, looking him full in the face, said, " It is 
 lucky, Sir, you have a trump card to deal with!" 
 That pale man is the representative of the Court of 
 Moldavia, whose good humour no amount of bad 
 luck can upset; and opposite is the "insensate" 
 Russian, who, no matter how the game goes, never 
 moves a muscle of his face. The player is the 
 French banker; see how affectionately he handles, 
 and gloats over, his cards, if at all favourable. Last, 
 not least, look at our countrymen, led, but not 
 like lambs, to the slaughter, for with energy do 
 they back the losing side, and "cover" countless 
 
334 WILD DAYUELL. 
 
 Napoleons, confidently exclaiming "Je fais le 
 
 Townley seldom played ; but this evening was an 
 exception to the rule. Fortune had honoured the 
 side nearest the door with most of her favours. The 
 wise men of Pau have been hanging back, or, like 
 beasts of prey, awaited the moment when something 
 should be thrown in their way. Townley now takes 
 possession of the unlucky seat, smiles complacently 
 on his opponent, the oily banker — deals the cards 
 slowly, we may say primitively, and, with a " Je vous 
 salue, Monsieur,'' bows to the red face opposite. Eng- 
 land's representative would have fared ill if left to his 
 own devices, but a white-visaged mentor sits by his 
 side, and, in reality, plays the game for him. France 
 pulls the strings, and England obeys the impulse. 
 Malheur eusement, grumbles the disconcerted banker 
 at the end of an unsuccessful game, and yields his 
 place to another, who is likewise discomfited by 
 Townley, and retires more quickly than his prede- 
 cessor. Backers flit to Townley's side. The vultures 
 flock to the slaughter, and pile dollars where but just 
 now the wheedling supplications of Diabole could 
 not bring the paltry stake of twenty francs. Again 
 luck follows old England. Dayrell winks to Hamber, 
 and whispers the old proverb about bad luck in love 
 being followed by good at play. 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 335 
 
 '' The pass/^ of the evening collects stragglers from 
 all parts of the room. Townley's politeness and 
 " salutations" are pushed to a point verging on imbe- 
 cility. Every time he dealt he bowed and repeated 
 the complimentary words. Still further he pursued 
 his winning way. An obdurate quartette alone faced 
 the tide of luck. Even they retired disgusted, when 
 Townley passed for the eighth time. There was a 
 pause. Who would take up the gauntlet ? France 
 does not think it a good thing, and Russia hangs 
 back. Then Dayrell stepped into the breacti, and 
 Moldavia brought up its supports, and the gallant 
 pair challenged Townley plus the world. 
 
 " Put on as much money as you like, we will cover 
 all," said the former to his opponents ; an order they 
 obeyed with such alacrity as to upset the calculations 
 of Townley's mentor, quick and clever though he was 
 at figures. 
 
 The money is counted, and piled on Townley's left 
 hand. 
 
 ^^ Cest qttj' cried Dayrell ; " le jeu est fait. Cut 
 Townley, if you please. I have the queen — you the 
 ace — ^it is my deal." 
 
 " Combat a V Anglais, '* suggests the burly barrister. 
 
 " De race for de Derby," squeaks Diabole, imitating 
 a common phrase amongst the English. 
 
 The sun continues to shine upon Yorkshire 
 
336 WILD DAYRELL, 
 
 Townley scores four points to his adversary's one. It 
 is the former's deal, and he turns a King. Twenty 
 hands drop suddenly on the money — grasping, push- 
 ing, seizing — emblematic of French poHteness, so 
 much talked of, and so seldom practised, when Dayrell 
 discovers that his adversary has mis-dealt, and given 
 him six instead of five cards. Such a restitution of 
 dollars and such a hubbub ensues. We warrant 
 there is not a Frenchman on the opposite side that 
 does not connect the mistake with a robbery of the 
 most barefaced description. The game is renewed. 
 Four, scores Dayrell after the next deal, and so the 
 point of " quatre a" is attained. Tremble, ye French 
 backers of Townley, and reckon not on a dinner to- 
 morrow. Your champion asks for fresh cards and is 
 refused. He plays his miserable " nines" and " tens'^ 
 only to be covered in succession by his adversary's 
 three fatal trumps. ^^ Adieu, Townley, au revoir/' 
 says Dayrell ; and Hamber remarks to the latter, 
 " What do you think now of the proverb you quoted 
 a few minutes ago ?'' 
 
 But this was only mild skirmishing. It was the 
 grand final charge of lansquenet that was to invest 
 the victor with something more substantial than a 
 laurel crown. Diabole, Hautvoix, the pale mentor, 
 and others, decline, under cover of urgent affairs at 
 home. They are too clever to trust their barks to 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 337 
 
 the uncertain currents of lansquenet. A select — 
 very select — party retire behind the thick Lyons 
 curtains to a smaller salon of the club. Very quiet 
 is the commencement of the game, as the players, 
 unable to make a stand, pass the packs from one to 
 another. It appears to be a kind of trifling — ^just 
 like the first over of a cricket-match_, or first half 
 dozen strokes at billiards — an attempt to get the 
 hand in for more effective business. By degrees the 
 dealers warm to their work. The fatal word " banco" 
 is repeated with more or less telling effect : but still 
 no great damage is done, no wonderful coup made, 
 till Dayrell took the cards for the fourth time. He 
 won gradually, till his doubled stakes became too 
 high for the habitual players to cover. "Banco," 
 calls Townley from the lower end of the table; 
 and two queens light airily upon the green cloth, 
 mulcting the caller of some 800 francs. "Banco 
 the whole," cried our friend from Yorkshire, and 
 many a card is turned before one in DayrelPs favour 
 dropped from the pack. " You had better stop," said 
 Dayrell good-naturedly; "I have a run of luck." 
 To which Townley only answered, " Banco for the 
 whole again," and, amid much excitement, a third 
 adverse card turned up, and the whole stake passed 
 over to Dayrell. 
 
 The lamps were far from brilliant on the Place as 
 z 
 
338 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 Hamber and Dayrell left the cercle — daylight already 
 peeped from behind the eastern mountains. There 
 was the red glow of dawn on the edge of the broken 
 clouds, and a peaceful serenity in the air that ill 
 harmonised with the thoughts of the two spectators. 
 " You will take a fair instalment of the money with 
 you, Hamber, for prosecuting the enquiry we talked 
 about at dinner. Rather extraordinary that Townley 
 should pay. Still, should he ever know it, he cannot 
 regret the destination of his bank-notes." 
 
 " Bon-soir, Mademoiselle" said the unabashed 
 Dayrell on meeting Miss Garderes, who was tripping 
 down the hotel staircase with her basket of keys, 
 and her natty little cap on the back of her head. 
 
 " Bon mating'' said the damsel, with emphasis, as 
 she glided into some obscure retreat, unwilling to be 
 seen talking to such a couple of reprobates. 
 
 Ere the day was far advanced, more than one 
 mother of a family had heard the news from the 
 cercle, and, in true gossiping spirit, had retailed 
 the same to her neighbours ; ere the sun had set, 
 Mrs. Berners was in possession of full particulars ; 
 and, ere the night mail had carried off Hamber, 
 armed with papers signed, and with instructions for 
 his new campaign, Kate had been treated to a 
 homily, that made the poor girl very depressed and 
 sad. But here we must take the liberty of putting 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 339 
 
 the clock back, and refer to a conversation that took 
 place between Mrs. Berners and her daughter some 
 few days before, when the tearful opposition of the 
 latter defeated, for the nonce, the mother's designs. 
 
 Townley had followed Crotchet's advice, and, when 
 paying a morning visit, had waylaid Mamma Berners, 
 as, in garden-hat and gloves, she was sallying forth 
 to the planting of carnations, or budding of roses, 
 and poured his eloquence into her ear. "An hour 
 on the gravel" sufficed to unfold his plans and 
 prospects, and to persuade Mrs. Berners to undertake 
 the office of ambassador extraordinary to our pretty 
 Kate. So, scarcely had the sound of Townley's 
 departing wheels died away, than Mamma, like a 
 true woman, hurried to impart the secret to her 
 daughter, who, guessing by intuition the object of 
 the visit, was in her chamber, and heard with 
 trepidation her mother's approach. 
 
 But thither we mount with reluctance. 'Tis no 
 edifying sight to witness the opposition of mother 
 and daughter. 'Tis not pleasant to hear a sad low 
 voice reiterate, '^ Mamma, I cannot marry that man." 
 We would prefer not to see the unnatural pallor that 
 overspreads the brow, when, without answering, she 
 listens to her mother's severe rebukes, when not a 
 muscle moves in the beautifully chiselled face, when 
 one tear glistening on the cheek and another hanging 
 z2 
 
340 WILD DAYUELL. 
 
 upon the eyelash, are the only evidences of the storm 
 within. Under such circumstances it would be better 
 to turn aside. Our presence is uncalled for. Still, 
 who that has ever been the unwilling witness of 
 such a scene, can forget the struggle, as marked 
 in a lovely face — the struggle between the duty 
 owed to the parent, and the determination never to 
 yield to dictation in such a matter as the disposal of 
 heart and hand. 
 
 " I will never marry Mr. Townley," was a bitter 
 pill for Mrs. Berners to swallow, when, leaving poor 
 Kate to find consolation in a passionate burst of 
 tears, she reviewed the case in all its bearings. 
 
 " Silly, foolish girl,^' she soliloquized ; " she does 
 not know her own mind. It is not every day that 
 such a chance occurs. I am quite astonished at her 
 conduct ; there can be no reason for her acting thus, 
 
 unless " and this worldly mother dropped into 
 
 a train of thought, and pictured to herself a kindly, 
 manly face, yes, one that oft-appeared to her in her 
 dreams, and her solitude, whose hard lot it had been 
 to meet and love the matchless Kate La Touche of 
 twenty-five years ago, to be rejected for the stale 
 old reason, that it was a bad money-match, and to 
 be killed, as she had read, when fighting his way to 
 Lucknow under the undaunted Havelock. It was 
 but a passing twinge. It was but for a moment 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 341 
 
 that her old nature triumphed over the money- 
 grubbing, Dives-toadying-ways of the world. The 
 current of her thought relapsed to its former channel, 
 and she endeavoured to make out the man who had 
 thwarted her plans. " Could it be Mr. Dayrell ? " 
 she asked herself, and turned it over in her mind. 
 By degrees the mist cleared away, and she fancied 
 she saw her error and mistake. 
 
 Then Mamma Berners sought a second interview 
 with Townley. It was an easy matter for her to 
 pour into his unsuspicious ear a story about Kate's 
 youth, and her dif&culty in making up her mind 
 before she took such a serious step. She recom- 
 mended him to visit at their house, and promised 
 that all should shortly be settled. Townley was not 
 a wise man, — albeit, many a wiser than he has, ere 
 now, been hoodwinked by the other sex, — and agreed 
 to the proposition with unreflecting haste. " Depend 
 upon it," he remarked to Crotchet, " Kate is prudent 
 as well as clever. The difficulty of winning such a 
 girl makes the prize all the more worthy of the 
 trouble." 
 
 So, when the news of the lansquenet catastrophe was 
 hinted about Pau, with just a slight amount of exagge- 
 ration — the multiplication, as well as the addition 
 table, being freely applied to the sum lost by Townley 
 — it is needless to say that Mrs. Berners^ temper 
 
 z3 
 
342 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 was sorely ruffled. This lady's suspicions of Dayrell 
 being the cause of her daughter's obstinacy had 
 hardened in the last few days^ and she was all the 
 more angry, because she had only her own tactics 
 to blame for the result. When the Honourable 
 Mrs. Hooker selected our old friend Couterbound 
 to escort herself and daughters to the Botanical 
 gardens, Swan and Edgar^s, and the palace at Syden- 
 ham, and Mr. C, enraptured by a pretty face, carried 
 off the heart of the flower of the flock — intended, 
 by-the-bye, to grace the breakfast-table of some 
 country capitalist — did not that honourable lady 
 consider she had a right to be offended ? " He had 
 been taken up,'' she said, " because he was useful," 
 and, if neglecting his duty as a machine, he 
 exercised his undoubted right to volition, did he not 
 deserve the heaviest visitations her wrath could 
 devise ? If Yellowplush, the footman, were to step 
 from behind his mistress's chair at a dinner party, 
 and tell her what to eat, drink, and avoid, he would 
 not, in her opinion, commit a greater solecism than 
 had the unfortunate Couterbound. 
 
 So argued Mrs. Berners with regard to Dayrell. 
 What right had he to appear as a free agent and make 
 use of opportunities that she had given him, simply 
 for the furtherance of her own ends. Leading Mr. 
 Townley, too, into gambling habits; it was quite 
 
WILD DATRELL. 343 
 
 dreadful. Yes, pretty Kate listened to a dreary, 
 dismal tale that evening ; but she would have been 
 no real true-hearted woman, if every thing she 
 heard did not more than ever confirm her opposition 
 to her mother's plans. 
 
 z 4 
 
344 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Dayrell's position at Pau was, at this moment, 
 peculiar. Although no open rupture had taken place 
 with the head of the Berner family, his reception 
 at the chateau was now none of the warmest, a 
 hint to him of the propriety of discontinuing his 
 morning visits. Besides, the step he had taken 
 with regard to the law- suit, no prudent man could 
 approve. You have only to lend money to a friend, 
 they say, and you make him your enemy for life. 
 Dayrell had done something similar, with this differ- 
 ence, that his loan was sub-rosd, and unknown to 
 the borrower, and should his meddling in other 
 people's affairs be discovered, he might be visited 
 with rebukes more severe than kind. 
 
 A series of "cutting-out" manoeuvres managed 
 to procure him occasional interviews with Kate. It 
 is happily ordained that our womankind must suc- 
 cumb to the temptations of shopping, and as Mrs. 
 Berners could not turn a deaf ear to the invitations 
 of French milliners, to inspect new Paris patterns. 
 
WILD DAYRELL, 345 
 
 or curious assortments of silks, her visits to Pau, 
 with her daughter, were, as little Bouncer termed 
 them, " Angelas visits," no doubt, but unlike them 
 in one respect, not few and far between. Dayrell 
 watched his opportunities, and often, when Mamma 
 was haggling with Pecune, the French banker, 
 respecting the cash she was to receive for her letters 
 of credit, or when complaining to Madame Gant of 
 the infamous quality of her yellow kid gloves, did 
 Dayrell promiscuously drop in, and, under the 
 pretext of purchasing scent-bags and nicknacks, have 
 a hurried interview with Kate. 
 
 Carnival-time, too, is prolific in soirees, and was 
 this year celebrated at Pan with eclat extraordinary. 
 When those noble-hearted bachelors, regardless of 
 expense, gave their magnificent ball, which reminded 
 the editor of the "Bayonne Vindicateur" (who 
 had an invitation) of fairy-land, and the proprietor 
 of the " Bearnais Regenerateur'^ (who had not been 
 asked), of all that bad taste could devise, to gain 
 which information, he was popularly supposed to 
 have seen through a blind, shutter, and a double- 
 fold of drapery, — when, we say, that event long 
 thought of, and carefully managed in every detail 
 by its promoters, was to bring together all the elite 
 of beauty, such as the foreign as well as the home 
 market could produce, it would have been hard if 
 
346 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 Mrs. Berners had prevented Kate from being present. 
 Not but that her fate hung some time in the balance, 
 for Townley was laid up with an attack of bronchitis, 
 and Mamma feared the presence at the ball of one 
 whom she chose to consider an interloping rival. 
 But reports came in thickly, describing the gorgeous 
 preparations for the coming fete. Female curiosity 
 and love of display could no longer hold out. It 
 was ultimately decided that they would order new 
 dresses, and go to the ball. 
 
 It is half-past nine in the evening. The Mairie 
 in the middle of the town is no longer a large, 
 desolate building, sans light, sans life, sans every- 
 thing — Messieurs les jeunes gens Anglais ont change 
 tout cela, Flowers bloom, where flowers never 
 bloomed before, on cold stones, in sequestered crypts, 
 in empty niches, and wide arcades; ugly flights of 
 steps have been turned into handsome staircases by 
 means of carpets, festoons of laurel, and variegated 
 lamps. The hall, sacred to deputations to the 
 mayor, and sittings of the grand jury, hung with 
 pink and white fluted satin, and ornamented with 
 flowers and flags, made a magnificent ball-room. 
 The band revelled in a green parterre, and over the 
 heads of the performers the Tri-colour and Union 
 Jack united in true fraternity. The '^ Queen of the 
 Harvest" waltz is being played as the last arrivals 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 347 
 
 press into the room. Well-matclied couples float 
 gracefully round to the inspiring strains, and bad 
 performers execute evolutions, never contemplated 
 by the inventor of the deuoe temps. Be-ribboned and 
 be-turbaned mothers, unable to find seats, swell the 
 circle that forms round the dancers. But amongst 
 them is not Mrs. Berners. She is in good hands 
 to-night, and reposeth her ample frame on a red 
 sofa, thanks to the careful agency of a new friend 
 of hers, one Captain Prattle, of Her Majesty's navy, 
 the most amusing man in Pau, and a firm ally of 
 Dayrell's. He it is that will lull that matron this 
 evening, not to sleep, but to oblivion of the passing 
 scene, by means of stories, which, any one hearing 
 would have great difficulty in deciding where the 
 fabulous ended, and the true began. Being in 
 Dayrell's confidence, he has heard the story about 
 Townley, and, like a trump, exerts his talents in the 
 cause of injured humanity. 
 
 "Engaged to Dayrell for the third waltz — the 
 supper-dance, 1^11 be bound. A capital engagement 
 for Miss Kate, and I'll take care Mrs. Berners does 
 not interrupt the iete-a-tSte afterwards," thought 
 Prattle, as he overheard Kate's answer to Dayrell 
 of " Very happy ;'^ and presently finding that matron 
 on a bench in the ball-room without a soul, not 
 even a dowager, to converse with, he took a seat 
 
348 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 by her side, as welcome as a shower to a meadow 
 after a month of drought. 
 
 " Sir Arthur is the richest man in Pau. You said 
 you'd take some perigord-pie/^ observed Prattle to 
 Mrs. Berners, as that lady deposited her ample 
 frame in an arm-chair and resigned herself to supper 
 and indigestion. " Just arrived here. Yes, I ought 
 to know something about him, considering my 
 cousin was on the point of marrying his sister. An 
 unfortunate display of temper on her part interfered 
 with the nuptials. Just my own case, I assure you, 
 when that beautiful widow, Mrs. Barbara Goldsmith, 
 consented to become Mrs. Prattle. I basked in her 
 smiles ; I was happy. The wedding-day was actually 
 fixed, when one morning she found out that I had 
 been to Ascot, and told me that if I preferred the 
 society of blacklegs and gamblers to the hallowed 
 precincts of Exeter Hall, I might look for some one 
 else. But Sir Arthur is quite the thing for your 
 eldest daughter,'^ insinuated Prattle to Mrs. Berners, 
 who pricked up her ears. " Your youngest, they 
 say, is happily placed on the roll of the engaged." 
 
 '^ Perhaps, she is," retorted the dame. '' Rich, you 
 say; he certainly is good looking. A little wine 
 and water, if you please. Captain Prattle, you must 
 
 introduce him presently, and '' but here the 
 
 conversation was interrupted by an explosion of 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 349 
 
 crackers^ which youth persuaded its partner to pull, 
 albeit, with closed eyes and well-feigned terror. 
 
 Sir Arthur passed at the moment, and the Captain 
 took the opportunity of introducing that simpering 
 good-natured young man to Mrs. Berners. She 
 straightway fastened on the Baronet, and plied him 
 with questions about the health of Lady This, and 
 asked where the Honourable Mrs. That was passing 
 the winter, — a laudable proceeding on her part had 
 those notables ever honoured her with more than a 
 distant bow. Then suddenly recollecting her forlorn 
 condition, she requested him to escort her to the 
 ball-room, much to the discomposure of the Baronet, 
 whose eye wandered in search of little Ellen Callister, 
 the centre at that moment of the pyrotechnic display 
 at the end of the supper-table. 
 
 In the meantime, the corridor leading out of the 
 ball-room was not without its tenants. What, though 
 the variegated lamps artfully placed amid festoons 
 of laurel, cast but a subdued light. Glittering 
 chandeliers are not absolutely necessary, when, like 
 Kate and Dayrell, we would steal a quarter of an 
 hour's conversation in a gallery removed from the 
 public gaze. The couple paced up and down en- 
 gaged in low and subdued conversation, and scared 
 away more than one owner of a white dress, who, 
 with her exhausted partner, would have sought the 
 
350 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 cooler regions of the outer gallery, but, intuitively- 
 aware of what was going on, forbore to interrupt 
 the tete-a-tete. We can guess what they are saying, 
 and our mind reverts to certain events — oasis in our 
 career — that we never, never can forget. Do we 
 not remember the ball-room, not a hundred miles 
 from Irun, and the verandah, where the black eyes 
 of the Spanish beauty met ours, and she whispered 
 in French, Monsieur (Oh, that horrible cold word, 
 Monsieur), cela ne pent pas etre. Would we not, at 
 that moment, have exchanged all we had in England 
 for a Castilian vineyard, and that Senora for a 
 blushing bride ? Do we not remember the ball, " in 
 the halls of dazzling light," in Ireland, when, on the 
 lawn, Isabel, of the golden hair, walked by our side, 
 and asked with all the innocence of youth, " But, 
 what would the Connaught girl do in London?" 
 When, again, we earnestly wished for 3,000 acres, 
 even of bogland, and a life interest in the beauty of 
 the far west. Do we not recollect the belle Anglaise^ 
 at Amiens, and Angeline, at Heidelberg ? We hope 
 these fond illusions we still cherish will not be spoilt, 
 as was the case in London the other day, when one 
 of those beauties, so altered for the worse in face 
 and figure, introduced us to a be-wigged gentleman 
 — her husband, who straightway asked us to visit his 
 " 'ot-'ouses in ^Ertfordsher, and ^oped we would 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 351 
 
 come soon." Those side scenes of a ball-room have 
 much to answer for. Stilly all honour, say we, to 
 the kind-hearted ball giver_, who lights up her con- 
 servatories and galleries, and supplies the exigencies 
 of many a timid, but loving couple. 
 
 The corridor, however, in the Mairie, with its 
 subdued light, and tempting sofas, did but little to 
 further DayrelFs plans. It was his fate to see 
 Kate*s eyes cast down upon the floor, and to hear 
 her utter the cela ne pent pas etre of Iran's black- 
 eyed maiden. " Mr. Dayrell, it is impossible ; my 
 mother never will give her consent." A bold man 
 might have suggested the conventional chaise and 
 four posters, or a timid one have urged dissimu- 
 lation, as the best method of defeating the " powers 
 that were.'^ But our hero knew that Kate would 
 not entertain such ideas, that she was far too well 
 brought up to ignore the duty children owe to their 
 parents. He was on the point of playing his last 
 card, of trying what effect the disclosure of the 
 " Hamber mission" might have, when the ungainly 
 Crotchet appeared in the passage. 
 
 "Are you engaged for this quadrille?" asked he, 
 sidling up to Kate, and holding out his arm with 
 the characteristic awkwardness of a man who 
 toils through duty-dances at the very few balls he 
 patronises; and Kate, much to Dayrell's disgust. 
 
352 WILD DAYHELL. 
 
 is led to a conspicuous place opposite the orchestra, 
 where, to her unheeding, Crotchet blurts out such 
 miserable on dits of the club, as his cloudy memory 
 can summon. 
 
 " Done with you. Fifty francs, you bet, that I 
 do not reach the top of the Maladetta before the 
 end of October. You've lost your money. Grey ling; 
 you may as well pay me at once. I'll take thirty 
 francs down, and scratch the bet ;" and Bouncer, 
 whose potations of Champagne had rendered that 
 youth more than ordinarily precocious, endeavours to 
 inscribe the wager on his " card of the dances and 
 engagements.*' 
 
 " You are a rich man, Dayrell ; I will do the same 
 with you," added Bouncer, as our hero approached 
 the coterie, who, careless about dancing, paid their 
 respects to the supper-table and the rosy god. 
 " Stay. Fifty francs I scale the mountain before 
 you marry Miss What's-her-name — Kate Berners.^' 
 And the youth laughed as though he had made a 
 most witty remark. 
 
 Bouncer, you are hard upon Dayrell, and, we may 
 say, impertinent. You might have been treated with 
 something worse than a sharp rebuke, had not your 
 temporary secession from the strict path of sobriety 
 been observed, and made some excuse for your mis- 
 behaviour. 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 353 
 
 Dayrell, however, swallowed his wrath and a 
 glass of champagne, and returned to that much- 
 frequented post of observation, the doorway of the 
 ball-room. Most of the "wall-flowers," who, to 
 the shame of the male sex be it told, had not stood 
 up for aught but duty- quadrilles, had retired, as well 
 as such discreet mothers as fear the effects of late 
 hours on the blooming complexions of their charges. 
 Couples take advantage of increased space, and 
 sweep round the room at a pace detrimental alike to 
 ten-franc bouquets and floral wreaths. Fanny Tib- 
 bets has secured for a partner — for this time only, 
 let us hope — the solemn but imposing Laurie, and 
 threatens annihilation to any adventurous pair who 
 may cross her path. Sir Arthur and Ellen Callister 
 pull up breathless beneath the orchestra, and 
 that artless girl wields her weapons to such ad- 
 vantage as to render that simpering baronet — as all 
 Pau remarked — singularly distrait and absent for 
 just four days afterwards. There is a dead-lock at 
 the bottom of the room, occasioned by the inexpe- 
 rienced Crochet, under the influence of champagne, 
 attempting the reverse turn, and coming in contact 
 with others who revelled in the goodness of the pace. 
 Kate's pretty face looms over the shoulder of one 
 well known in trenches of Sebastopol, yet unharmed 
 by bullet, though, from the landing at Eupatoria to 
 
 A A 
 
354 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 the taking of that stronghold^ he never missed a day's 
 duty. 
 
 And this contemplated, with anything but gladness 
 of heart, poor Dayrell — one of the twenty stewards 
 whose purse and energy had called the scene and 
 ball into existence. But mind, it is not the dross 
 expended or the time wasted, that disquiets him. 
 'Tis the old, old story : the desire for something un- 
 attainable ; the jealousy of what he interprets as 
 another^s success ; the sense of desolation in a crowd 
 that causes that gnawing sensation at the heart. Are 
 bye-gones to be ever bye-gones, and never to be a 
 lesson to the love-lorn ? Is he to forget the termi- 
 nation of the affair in Sussex, or to reap no benefit 
 from the lesson he received after the University boat- 
 race? Par exemple! No. His feelings are those 
 that every one has at different periods of life, yes, 
 every one, from those elderly gouty-toed bits of 
 humanity we see in drawing-rooms, down to the 
 beardless guardsmen just commencing the fashion- 
 able "rounds" in town. Previous disappointments 
 make not him or us wiser. We endow the last novelty 
 with all the attributes that we found her predeces- 
 sors never enjoyed. The last is the peerless beauty 
 without fault — when straightway we congratulate our- 
 selves, and say, " evprjKd/juev,^* Happy that it is so for 
 most people, otherwise their life would be a blank. 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 355 
 
 '' May I have the next dance V said Dayrell rather 
 dolorously to Kate, as she and her partner stopped 
 close where he was standing. 
 
 " Mamma said this was positively to be my last 
 waltz/' she replied. '^ I shall be very happy if you 
 can persuade her to let me stay for just one more 
 galop/Vshe added, on observing that eminent con- 
 ductor of the orchestra, Signor Basso, rap twice 
 with his fiddle-stick as a notice to his coadjutors to 
 finish. 
 
 He gave her his arm, and walked to where Mamma, 
 vehemently fanning herself, awaited them. 
 
 " No, Kate," said the elderly lady ; ^^ it is past 
 three, and we must go home at once. Thank you, 
 Mr. Dayrell," she said to our hero ; " Captain Prattle 
 can find our carriage. Don't let us take you from 
 the ball-room." 
 
 But Dayrell, aware that possession was nine points 
 of the law, did not allow Kate to disengage her arm, but 
 conducted her to the cloak-room, where, if he failed 
 to put her opera-cloak straight over her shoulders, 
 she neither blamed him nor even observed it, so 
 intent was she on something he was telling her in a 
 whisper. And a cloak-room, Mrs. Mainchance says, 
 is not a bad place for such a whisper. Did not she 
 receive at different times of her girlish career two 
 proposals after a ball, the proposers in both instances 
 aa2 
 
356 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 being extremely well off? So now the confusion 
 arising from false starts for carriages which did not 
 as yet stop the way; the search for cloaks which 
 bewildered maid-servants could not resurrectionize 
 from the heaps of the unowned ; and Prattle's kind- 
 ness in relieving him from the duty of shouting for 
 Mr. Berners' vehicle, were all in Dayrell's favour, 
 and gave him an excellent opportunity of pressing 
 Kate to say Yes or No. 
 
 " Only revoke the word ' impossible/ " said Dayrell, 
 as they slowly descended the staircase. " In seven 
 days I shall have good news for you," he added 
 mysteriously. 
 
 Kate looked at him hopefully for a moment ; then 
 shook her head. " Allez, allez'' called the gens- 
 d'arme on duty ; and the carriage drove under the 
 archway of the Mairie, leaving Dayrell on the steps 
 wistfully gazing where last he had seen Kate's sad, 
 desponding face. 
 
 5|C T* 3|C 3jC 3|C 5|C 
 
 ''A lettare," said the Anglo-Beamais servant of 
 the hotel, coming into Dayrell's bed-room on the 
 afternoon after the ball. " Three times since I call 
 you,^^ he added, as our hero lazily stretched out his 
 hand to take the missive. 
 
 When things come to the worst, difficult though 
 it is to decide when that period has arrived, they 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 357 
 
 must mend. Thus, when things looked gloomy, 
 Hamber's letter, written cheerfully, and to the point, 
 arrived. " Our friend Thompson," he wrote, " I met 
 yesterday, by appointment, in the City. He confessed 
 all. While confidential servant to the Sous-Prefet 
 of Bayonne, he used frequently to amuse himself by 
 reading his master's letters, and, if time hung more 
 than ordinarily heavy on his hands, he used to dip 
 into the archives preserved in the Prefectorial bureau. 
 In these were registered births, deaths, marriages, 
 names of landholders, past and present, minutely 
 and particularly, as only French officials can record 
 them. He found some English names in the register 
 of the departed, and amongst others that of M. La 
 Touche, who died at St. Jean de Luz without 
 making a will, and childless. The date given by 
 Thompson shows this is the person we want. We 
 now require a form drawn by a lawyer, attested by 
 witnesses, and countersigned by both Justice of the 
 Peace and Sous-Prefet. This you ought to see to 
 yourself. Take a lawyer with you, and go to 
 Bayonne at once, and send me the papers as soon as 
 you can." 
 
 Dayrell was not long dressing that afternoon, or 
 
 in calling upon that eminent counsellor, Hautvoix. 
 
 He would have started that evening in the malle- 
 
 poste for Bayonne, had not the latter refused, on the 
 
 A a3 
 
358 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 ground of his being engaged to defend a maid- 
 servant, who was charged with the murder of her 
 mistress, and the appropriation of about twenty- 
 pounds* worth of jewellery. So, adding his mite to 
 the indignation every lady in Pau felt against the 
 offending Swiss girl, he reluctantly waited till the 
 following evening. 
 
 A man is not served the quicker in France, because 
 he happens to be in a hurry. Not a bit more 
 expeditious will an employe be in writing a receipt, 
 copying a register, or brushing off the sand, that to 
 this day serves for blotting paper in civilized France, 
 because Monsieur says he has no time to lose. 
 Simple as Dayrell's business appeared, its settlement 
 was by no means so. He had to pay three visits to 
 the Sous-Prefet before that functionary could be 
 seen. True ; when he and Hautvoix were admitted, 
 they were received with the utmost politeness, with 
 scrapings of feet, removal of hat, and enquiries about 
 Pau society ; all of far more consequence than a 
 business discussion. Then, when the Sous-Prefet 
 had mastered the case, his clerks had their turn. 
 Innumerable cigarettes they smoked before they 
 searched the registers, and finished the formalities 
 such an occasion required, and when the " Justice 
 of the Peace" was wanted, he was either at an 
 audience in some distant village, or pursuing the 
 
WILD DAYHELL. 359 
 
 red partridge on the Uplands of Bidart, or enjoy- 
 ing his coffee and dominoes in a neighbouring cafe, 
 whither his Basque maid-servant was forbidden to 
 come in search of him — an order she strictly obeyed, 
 unmoved by Dayrell's compliments and persuasive 
 eloquence. " It is a piece of forty sous, she wants/^ 
 whispered Hautvoix. At the sight of money the 
 demeanour of this ^'descendant of a thousand kings" 
 changed. Without cap or bonnet, she scuttled off 
 and would fetch her master in what she termed a 
 petit quart d'heure. But love will carry a man, — 
 
 " Trans Gargara, transque sonantem 
 Ascanium." 
 
 Not even the listlessness of the Sous-Prefet, or the 
 Justice's love for shooting, prevented Dayrell accom- 
 plishing his object. In four days he obtained his 
 papers, and in honour of the event, he and Haut- 
 voix gave the clerks a " Punch," and several '' con- 
 summations" at the cafe, when the barrister, under 
 the influence of eau-de-vie and cigarettes, held forth 
 copiously about the delights of Pau society, and the 
 gaiety, and the scandal, thus making those poor 
 employes (for Bayonne in the winter time is as dull 
 as ditch-water) as jealous and discontented as only 
 a Frenchman with 40/. a-year can be, and compelling 
 
 them at last to rush out of that caravansery, and 
 A A 4 
 
360 WILD DAYEELL. 
 
 refresh themselves with the sight of some poor 
 fellows worse off than themselves — the recruits on 
 the Place, who, with straw round their right and hay- 
 round their left legs, were marching to the monoto- 
 nous accompaniment " Paille, Foin — Paille, Foin." 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 361 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Spring is a cheery time in the Basses Pyrenees. 
 Then are ball-rooms voted hot and out of date by 
 the beau monde. Mercurial spirits are about paying 
 a flying visit to the Eaux Bonnes and Cauterets 
 before their return to England. Mothers are mindful 
 of the annual Exodus, and determine to give their 
 unmarried charmers one more chance of bringing 
 </i«-ingenuous youth to book before the commence- 
 ment of the summer migration. Hence they patronize 
 that valuable institution, thepic-nic. Who can tell? 
 Perhaps, sub tegmine fagij on some bonny hill-side may 
 be spoken the word which the notes of the Traviata or 
 Queen of the Harvest Waltzes have failed to elicit. 
 
 Is not Gardere celebrated for his Mayonaises? 
 Who knows better how to mix the crisp white- 
 stalked lettuce with the yellow sauce peculiar to 
 that appetizing dish ? Cannot Barton and Guestier 
 make up hampers of champagne and claret ? Com- 
 pare them with what Eortnum and Mason sends out 
 each Epsom Carnival, and the English firm would 
 
362 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 be left far in the rear — if not at the post itself. 
 So a day is fixed — no written invitations given — ^but 
 time and place are appointed by simple word of 
 mouth. Mrs. Mainchance is on the qui vive — ^looks 
 up her oldest linen, her used-up knives and forks, 
 and goes in person to market to select the fowls and 
 tongues, Crohairee, having but two carriages at 
 home, is bewildered at the orders he receives, and 
 Boiteux bruises his shins amidst debris of old harness, 
 to find materials for Sir Arthur Scapegrace's con- 
 templated four-in-hand. Crotchet proposes two fid- 
 dlers and a cornopean, but his motion is negatived 
 by the quiet element of the party, who have decided 
 objections to an open-air dance. '^ You don't know 
 what it may lead to," says one old lady, who re- 
 members at Bagnere but scandal, we will not 
 
 reproduce. " It is out of place, however," she says, 
 " at a pic-nic, and will make it so late before they 
 return home.'^ So the fiddlers are to be left behind. 
 Prattle, the life and soul of a party, furbishes up his 
 best stories. In a word, all busy themselves in the 
 good cause, and anxiously expect the appointed day. 
 No fear of rain in the South of France, when the 
 sun shines high and bright above the Pyrenees, and 
 when the clouds do not press heavily on the shoulders 
 of the Pic-du-midi. The Place is the great starting- 
 point of the expedition. Thither are collected French 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 363 
 
 idlers of the better sort, who, much perplexed, talk 
 of this jour de campagnej just as we should of a dip 
 in the sea in the height of winter. But the mass of 
 the populace are congregated about the Hotel de 
 France to inspect the four-in-hand. To see this, 
 even Mademoiselle Gardere comes out of her shell, 
 to wit, a bivouack on the first floor with two Lillipu- 
 tian chairs, a book shelf, and the tiniest of bedsteads 
 for furniture, and brings her little sisters, who have 
 been spinning cock-chafers all the morning, to salute 
 Monsieur Dayrell and the others, with Bon jour, 
 Messieurs, Mademoiselle is all admiration, and that 
 peculiar winning purr of her's is heard oft-repeat- 
 ing, " Comme c'est beauJ^ The road passes through 
 Juran9on, where the shuttle-turning females look up 
 and stare, and the old beggar-man, so astonished is 
 he, forgets to ask for sous. They trot up the valley, 
 past the flocks guarded by a sabotted boy and throaty 
 Pyrenean dog, or meet a long train of muzzled but 
 gaily caprisoned mules, under the tutelage of a dirty 
 but handsome-featured Castilian. They pass the 
 heavy roulage carts, with their tinkling bells, and 
 are a cause of wonderment to bagmen in the Oloron 
 diligence, as that vehicle tears past them in a cloud 
 of dust. They rattle through Gan, where the hill 
 begins; the horses are brought to the collar, and, 
 to ease them, the drivers dismount. The boys of 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 the country, true to their money-making instincts, 
 seize the opportunity, and press forward, cap-in-hand, 
 while one old veteran on crutches, with a St. Helena 
 medal on his breast, asks boldly for a trifle to buy 
 tobacco or some wine. He has a right to demand 
 it. *' Did not a cannon take off my leg at Toulouse? 
 Yes, Sir, an English cannon-ball." In forty and four 
 years we wonder how much our travelling myriads 
 have paid for that one disastrous shot ? But Bouncer 
 and others are looking wistfully at the hampers, and 
 would like a bottle of champagne uncorked. Alas, 
 early hours and stern matronly presence forbid, 
 
 " How beautiful,'' exclaimed Mrs. Mainbrace to 
 a bevy of elders, who, having shaken off their dust 
 and pressed their crinolines into shape, stood and 
 looked at the view from the summit of the hill. 
 All echo the sentiment, while the young ladies are 
 forming confidential clusters, and giggling at Town- 
 ley's undignified efforts to carry a hamper, his white 
 kid gloves grasping one end, and the post-boy's 
 horny hand the other, presenting a marked and 
 pleasing contrast. Prattle, Crotchet, and others 
 help, and, by the time the carriages are emptied, 
 have formed a barricade strong enough to stop that 
 corps of brilliant uniforms, if not distinguished 
 valour — the Bounders of the Pyrenees. There is 
 much yet to be done. Champagne has to be carried 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 365 
 
 to the icy-cold spring. Townley's idea of wrapping 
 the bottles in wet flannel and exposing them to the 
 sun, is treated with the scorn it deserved. Young 
 ladies are on their knees, and busily unpacking. 
 What are they lamenting now? Only that the 
 salad bowl is broken, and that a soup plate will 
 not hold an eighth part of the lettuce. Why that 
 burst of laughter? Only, because the Mayonaise 
 sauce has run out of the bottle and mingled freely 
 with Gardere's apricot tart. Chaos, however, sub- 
 sides into something like order, as fowls, tongue, 
 and pies in their respective dishes, sink deep in the 
 spotless cloth. Carriage cushions make excellent 
 seats, and those who had the forethought to bring 
 rugs, dispose them daintily for the convenience of 
 their own particular vanity in crinoline. But the 
 fate of Tantalus awaits the hungry and thirsty. 
 Although the salad may be mixed, and the sherry 
 — such sherry as it is in the South of France — may 
 be uncorked, the sight- seeing mania must be in- 
 dulged before the banquet is touched. "It is too 
 soon," lisps a female, past the happy medium of 
 life, "to sit down to dinner. Captain Prattle says 
 there is a ruin we ought to see, and that he can 
 get the key." "Let us go," echo the ladies, and, 
 in batches of four and five, they follow Prattle, 
 while discontented youth, who go to pic-nics only 
 
366 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 for the champagne and the dinner, abuse the gallant 
 Captain, and lazily bring up the rear. 
 
 The keys turned gratingly in the lock, the doors 
 are opened, and the company enter. A native, old 
 in years, and smelHng intensely of garlic, wished to 
 officiate as showman. But Prattle waved him aside, 
 and took the office upon himself. " This, ladies and 
 gentleman, as you perhaps don't know,^' he began, 
 " is a castle built in the fourteenth century to resist 
 the attacks of the warlike and rapacious mountaineers. 
 That room on the left was the banqueting-hall ; this 
 on the right the chapel. In the former, the Baron 
 was compelled, by a vow made in his youth, to dine 
 twice a month, and, in the presence of his vassals, 
 drink a quart of Gan wine out of a human skull, 
 which the prettiest girl of the neighbourhood pre- 
 sented on her bended knee. This font you see in 
 the chapel is the identical one in which Henri IV. 
 was christened. You perceive the crack in the 
 middle. That was made when they brought it from 
 Pau at the time of the Revolution on two sumpter- 
 mules.^' Intense interest depicted on the countenance 
 of the ladies, who minutely examine the relic. 
 Prattle continues, "You have likewise read how, 
 when the great Henri was born, his mother, accord- 
 ing to Bearnais custom, rubbed his mouth with an 
 onion. You see that iron safe in the wall. In it is 
 
WILD DAYRELL, 367 
 
 preserved the identical herb, which is only exhibited 
 on great fete-days, and on it the marks of that blessed 
 baby's teeth may yet be seen/^ '' That won t do," 
 mutters Bouncer, " who ever heard of a baby born 
 with teeth ?" But nobody ever succeeded in silencing 
 Prattle. He had a way of looking through his glasses 
 as he answered, that precluded further controversy. 
 " If I did say teeth instead of gums," he asked, 
 "what then?" and his tongue wagged on about an 
 apocryphal score of pictures, which he minutely 
 described, mimicking the language of an English 
 housekeeper exhibiting her master's gallery, and 
 whose loss at the revolution he regretted. The party 
 turned into an allee overgrown with weeds, which he 
 opined was a place of recreation for the knights on 
 wet days. 
 
 " Played at skittles in their armour," interrupted 
 Crochet. 
 
 " Gentleman who will make bad jokes," he replied, 
 " might have said in their m^^/-shirts." 
 
 But in his banter Prattle had his object. " You 
 shall have the opportunity you want/' he had pro- 
 mised Dayrell one morning, when the latter confided 
 his secret and asked his advice. " Wait till the pic- 
 nic, where Miss Berners is going; you shall have 
 half an hour to talk with her. You can tell her of 
 H amber's mission, and nobody shall interrupt you." 
 
368 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 His lecture over, Prattle was arguing with the 
 native, who, angry at being relieved from his office of 
 cicerone, wanted a double fee, when he saw Dayrell, 
 who had joined the party unobserved just before its 
 conclusion. 
 
 *' You returned soon— no success, eh T' remarked 
 Prattle. 
 
 " None whatever. Townley would walk with us, 
 and talk in that lackadaisical manner of his; so I 
 stopped their promiscuous wanderings by bringing 
 Miss Berners back to the party before our absence 
 was remarked." 
 
 " Never mind, you shall have a better opportunity 
 after dinner," said Prattle, and at the same time gave 
 him a few useful hints. 
 
 What young lady ever is fastidious at a pic-nic? 
 We never knew one, beginning with that arch 
 enemy of ours, the grim Miss Towler, down to laugh- 
 ing, bright-eyed Bella Sparkle, who did not love to 
 escape the restraint society's laws impose, to sit cross- 
 legged on the mossy turf, instead of a high-backed 
 chair, and last, not least, to have an amateur 
 "Jeames" in the place of orthodox Yellowplush. 
 The ladies must have their holidays as well as the 
 gentlemen. If they were never to taste a bit of 
 nature, is there not a chance of their becoming dull ? 
 The party sitting round that cloth of snowy white- 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 369 
 
 ness were quite content to rough it, to sit closely 
 packed, and in fear and trembling to balance plates 
 upon tbeir knees. What matter if the amateur 
 waiters were awkward? — if one unfortunate wight 
 upset the salt, was he not laughingly told to throw 
 some over his left shoulder ? — and if another poured 
 a glass of champagne into beauty's lap (an accident 
 which of course often happened), did he not hear, 
 " that it was only a muslin," expressed in a manner 
 so naive that his heart was that instant led into 
 captivity. The change of air and scene seemed to 
 agree with all. Radiant with smiles was Ellen Cal- 
 lister — her attention divided between raised pie and 
 what the simpering baronet was saying. Clara Fane, 
 whose appetite was in general unequal to the conven- 
 tional "little jelly" of an evening party, asked un- 
 blushingly for more Mayonaise; and Louisa Plan- 
 tagenet, who on other occasions would have scorned 
 the action, sipped champagne out of a tumbler in 
 the absence of the tapering glass. The ladies having 
 finished, the gentlemen waiters began to work on 
 their own account. Dipping deeply into raised pies, 
 or carrying off remnants of chicken, they, one by one, 
 subsided into corners, or propped themselves against 
 trees, taking care to keep an open bottle at con- 
 venient distance. 
 
 There was one, however, who did not condescend 
 
 B B 
 
370 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 to act as waiter. This was Prattle. He never 
 flurried himself or spoilt his digestion by serving 
 others. His business was to amuse, to be the pleasant 
 raconteur when the feast was done. So he ate calmly, 
 while the rest hurried hither and thither with salt and 
 salad,, only occasionally lifting out of his plate his 
 full-moon face, and murmuring to the nearest gentle- 
 man, " Bread, please." Yet no one played him any 
 tricks. They either respected his age or his faculty 
 of telling stories, in which it was next to impossible 
 to separate the true from the false, and they laughed 
 heartily at their Munchausen, who had travelled all 
 over the world, and had thus a background for every 
 picture, and a fertile imagination to fill it in. 
 
 " What have you lost ?'^ asked Fanny Tibbets of 
 the Captain. 
 
 " A ring — a mourning ring — I would not have lost 
 for worlds. I had it just now." 
 
 " Mourning, Captain Prattle, how can you say so ? 
 I am sure it is as wicked looking as any I ever saw." 
 
 " Then you have found it." 
 
 " I never said so ; but, poor man, as you are so 
 unhappy I will relieve your anxiety, on condition 
 that you tell us the story attached to it." 
 
 'y Thank you. Miss Tibbets," he answered, heaving 
 a melodramatic sigh ; " since you compel me, prepare 
 to hear a short but moving tale. I was but twenty- 
 
WILD DATRELL. 371 
 
 six years of age, and had just been made lieutenant 
 in the navy. Unfortunately, I had not been gazetted 
 to a ship, so I was staying in Dublin, simply because 
 I had no ready money, and the tradesmen of that 
 town alone would give me credit. But even these 
 long-suffering men were at last in a state of disaffec- 
 tion. My tailor received me coldly, and my boot- 
 maker not only threatened, but actually took steps 
 to deprive me of my liberty. In fact, I was miser- 
 able. In one of my desponding moods I was walking 
 up Sackville Street, when I met my elder brother, 
 the owner of thousands, but the stingiest man living. 
 ' No sooner in town, Phil,' he said, ' than I meet the 
 happy middy, having his run upon shore, with more 
 money in his pocket, I warrant, than brains in his 
 head/ 'Lieutenant, if you please,' I answered; 
 'just passed his examination through having more 
 brains than money.' ' You have ! ' he said, looking 
 at me fixedly, and deliberating for a moment. ' Phil,' 
 he continued ; ' I know the very thing for you, and 
 can do you a good turn.' 'Never wanted one so 
 much as at this particular crisis. What is it?' 
 ' What would you say, Phil, to an heiress, with 800/. 
 a-year in her own right? Good tempered, if not 
 pretty; interesting, if not young. Shall I name 
 her? It is my wife's cousin, Miss Scorer. I will 
 introduce you, and you shall marry her ! ' ' Maid of 
 
 B B 2 
 
372 WILD DAYEELL. 
 
 my soul,' I answered ; ' with eighteen, — no, eight — 
 that will do — with eight hundred a-year of her own. 
 I am ready, and if she says yes, you may adjust the 
 halter about my neck as soon as you like/ I 
 wondered what kind of person Miss Scorer might 
 be. The word 'interesting' set me thinking. Does 
 it mean romantic? Has the germ of early love 
 been nipped in her gushing bosom, and has she 
 pined in solitude ever since ? Am I to be the man 
 to restore her to life, to re-kindle the fire that has 
 burnt out? Or does it mean long eye-lashes, and 
 half-closed eyes; hair falling in neglected clusters 
 on a swan-like bosom ; a figure pensively gazing into 
 the fire, and building castles in the coals, save when 
 it moves to the piano and warbles one of Mr. Moore's 
 melodies with the plaintive accent of the nightingale. 
 You see, Miss Tibbets, I was romantic enough once, 
 I was not kept long in suspense. I went with my 
 brother to the house. I ascended the staircase with 
 all the anxiety and trepidation of a lover. The 
 servant announced us, and I was face to face with 
 my enchantress; one glance, and all my castles 
 melted into thin air. I saw a lady, you understand 
 me when I say of a certain age, just discarding her 
 Berlin-wool work, and pocketing a pair of spectacles 
 with marvellous celerity. Of her personal charms 
 let me be silent, lest I overrate them. To her con- 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 373 
 
 versation my brother's epithet, 'interesting,' could 
 not apply. Her only redeeming point was her good 
 nature, and that, in regard to a thing I could have 
 dispensed with, was unbounded. 'What do you 
 think of her ? ' asked my brother, after dinner. 'Is n't 
 she a prize, and fond of you already ? Why Phil, it 
 was a case of love at first sight.' 'On whose side?' 
 I asked mechanically. ' On both, — her's especially.' 
 'Bob,' I said solemnly, 'this is past a joke, or rather 
 I have had enough of it. I never could marry that 
 woman, so do not mention the subject again!' 
 ' Zounds ! man, and why not ? Where are you going 
 to find another woman with 800/. a-year to throw 
 herself into your arms ? Not marry her ? you don't 
 know your own mind. Depend upon it, you will 
 like her well enough when you are better acquainted. 
 Another glass of wine, and we will go upstairs.' I 
 hav6 a dreamy recollection of what followed ; how 
 my brother played cribbage with the sister at one 
 table ; how he joked with her in whispers, and, like 
 Mephistopheles, looked at me over his shoulder to 
 see how I was getting on — I, the unhappy Faust, 
 who played chess with Miss Scorer, and was of 
 course checkmated. To be checkmated in the real 
 game of life was my destiny. But what could I do ? 
 In order to pay my debts I must marry well, and 
 here was the opportunity. I proposed when under 
 B b3 
 
374 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 the influence, I believe, of a bottle of old East India 
 sherry. It struck me afterwards that it was put on 
 the table at luncheon for that special purpose. I 
 was accepted, and the wedding-day fixed. Erom 
 that moment I ceased to be a free agent ; I was on 
 foot day and night. By day I was shown, like an 
 ex-wild beast now tamed, to congratulating friends ; 
 by night we played chess and backgammon, or did 
 our moon-lit sentimental rounds in Merrion Square. 
 One pleasure alone remained, I could walk Sackville 
 Street in peace, for Bootlace, cordwainer. Cuttings, 
 tailor, and others of the tribe, servilely bit the dust. 
 I forgot. Miss Tibbets, to tell you, that Miss Scorer 
 was what Mr. Anderson would call a healthy feeder. 
 Supper was her favourite meal; for it especial 
 luxuries were retained. I have even seen a lobster 
 salad form the piece de resistance of that social 
 repast. Heaven bless her ! I often thought there 
 never can be a doctor's bill in our house. A week 
 before the wedding, — it was a Tuesday, I think, but 
 am not sure, — I left the house after the usual routine 
 — chess, supper, and mutual good nights. Can you. 
 Miss Tibbets, doubt my sorrow in parting? Can 
 you think I omitted to walk round Merrion Square, 
 and watch the light in an upper window tiU it was 
 extinguished? I even abjured my evening cigar, so 
 that there should be nothing between me and my '* 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 375 
 
 Here Prattle seemed overcome by his feelings ; lie 
 remained silent a moment. 
 
 "And what happened ?" asked Mrs. Berners. 
 
 " What happened ? " echoed all. 
 
 " Madam/* replied Prattle, " I am grieved to state 
 that that excellent lady, from the effects, as the 
 doctors said, of that heavy supper, came to a pre- 
 mature end, at — let me see — 8.30 in the morning." 
 
 " Oh, fie. Captain Prattle," burst from more than 
 one unbeliever. But the good man looked at the 
 dissentients through his spectacles, and said, "I was 
 with her the last thing at night, and I saw her in 
 the morning ; in fact, was sent for ; so, I suppose, I 
 ought to know." 
 
 " You are not worthy then of this ring," observed 
 Fanny Tibbets. " I had a good mind to put it up 
 to auction, and give a ball with the proceeds.'^ 
 
 *' Noble-hearted creature," he replied ; " pray, do 
 so. But be sure first that the stones in it are 
 genuine." 
 
 While Prattle was thus entertaining a select 
 circle ; while Mrs. Berners, listening to his story, 
 forgot Kate; while Mrs. Mainchance's eye slum- 
 bered, and her brain ceased to form new schemes, 
 the young ladies who voted him a bore — a " stupid 
 old man^' Ellen Callister called him — had jumped 
 from the grass, and, their bright eyes flashing in the 
 B B 4 
 
376 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 setting sun, had slipped away, with arms locked 
 together in sisterly embrace, and with the professed 
 object of seeing the luminary disappear from a 
 better point of view. These Sir Arthur and Dayrell 
 intercepted. We don't suppose Kate was disap- 
 pointed, nor Ellen, though she did act the hesitating 
 maiden for a moment, was sorry at the intrusion. 
 All we know is, that in a few minutes, two couples, 
 one in the direction of the icy-cold spring, and the 
 other of the ruin, might, in the language of Mr. 
 James, have been seen to wander. 
 
 " How kind of you, Mr. Dayrell, to go to Bayonne 
 on our account,^' said Kate, after hearing his elabo- 
 rate story. "You must let me tell the news to 
 mamma. I may, may I not ? How she will thank 
 you, and become quite friendly to you again." 
 
 " Friendly ! Miss Berners," said Dayrell in a tone 
 of deep disappointment; "1 expected more than 
 that, at least from you. Do you know what I really 
 did expect? That I should have a grateful, sun- 
 shiny face turned up to mine, breathing, not only 
 its thanks, but, may I say it, a return for my love, 
 and one cheerful look to assure me of my happy 
 destiny. But your answer has placed me within 
 the cold and icy pale of friendship, — of friendship 
 only, and the smile of love is reserved, perhaps, for 
 another." 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 377 
 
 " How can you talk so, Mr. Dayrell ? You don't 
 know how much I have suffered, or you would not 
 put such an interpretation on my words." 
 
 " I am so sorry to have offended you, Kate. (May 
 I call you, Kate?) I did think you would have 
 listened so cheerfully to me, when I told you how 
 I had removed the last objection your mother could 
 have against the match. For this is the only one, 
 is it not, Kate ? that I am not so rich as — as some- 
 body I could name." 
 
 No answer. 
 
 " You know, Kate," he continued, " the evidence 
 I have obtained must gain you the verdict ; and by 
 it you will obtain a great increase of income. I 
 will go to London myself, and see that the lawyers 
 are not dilatory. But, stay, a thought flashes across 
 me. Your mother may think this fresh acquisition 
 of fortune another reason against the match. She 
 will fancy that her daughter ought to marry some 
 one '' 
 
 "I'll listen to this no longer, Mr. Dayrell," broke 
 in Kate. " You have no right to ascribe such ideas 
 to mamma, which are reflected again on me. Do 
 you think I am to be biassed by such worldly con- 
 siderations ? No one shall ever force me to act so." 
 
 "Then I am not quite indifferent to you, Kate. 
 May I hope some day " and Dayrell was on the 
 
378 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 point of kissing her hand, when she drew it hastily 
 away. 
 
 "Mr. Dayrell/* she answered, "you received my 
 reply once before — ^in the ball-room at Pan, — I have 
 none other for you to-day. I will never marry 
 without my mother^s consent. You had better let 
 me tell mamma your secret, and if you will caU. to- 
 morrow at our house, you will doubtless be '* 
 
 " The lost babes in the wood," exclaimed a person 
 just behind them. " Here they are, 'found at last.' 
 They thought, Miss Berners, you had met with an 
 accident — tumbled down a precipice, leaving only 
 this parasol for the coroner's jury to hold an inquest 
 on. I came to tell you they were packing the 
 hampers, and were nearly ready to start." 
 
 " I wonder you did not remain,^' said Miss Berners, 
 " and lend them your valuable assistance. On our 
 arrival you exerted yourself more than any one.^^ 
 
 "Fair play is a jewel. Miss Berners. I worked 
 first. It is now their turn. Besides, I stand up for 
 the rights of labour. By rights, I mean rewards; 
 and those I have not received. I carried the hampers, 
 unpacked them, acted as waiter, and when, at last, I 
 sat down to my own dinner, I found they had drunk 
 all the champagne; and what Bouncer had given 
 me in a silver-necked bottle was only the common 
 wine of the country; and while I was searching 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 379 
 
 in the carriages to see if I could find sometliing 
 better, all of you went for a walk." 
 
 "Poor Townley. Hard, indeed, is your fate," 
 remarked Dayrell. "Why is everything in this 
 world comparative? Accustomed as you are to 
 champagne every day, vin de grave must have been 
 as vinegar. This is one of the sad effects of being 
 a swell. Upon my word, I am glad I cannot afford 
 to drink the wine of Epemay always ; and so, when 
 I cannot have it, don't feel the loss.'' 
 
 Townley stroked his moustaches, and only half- 
 understanding Dayrell's meaning, took what he said 
 as a compliment. 
 
 "But you are not going back so soon?" he asked 
 of Miss Berners. 
 
 "Indeed, I am; mamma will be expecting me. 
 Besides, we must not follow the bad example of 
 Some people, who will not help, their friends." 
 
 Townley continued to walk with them, but in 
 anything but a good humour. He pulled his mous- 
 taches, threw his legs about, and, plunged in deep 
 thought, made no attempt to renew the conversation. 
 It was nearly dark when they joined the rest of the 
 party. By that time the table-cloth, the dishes, 
 and the debris of the feast, had well nigh vanished. 
 Some remnants the young ladies were distributing 
 among the native population^ others were munched 
 
380 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 by coachmen and post-boys^ to whom Prattle also 
 distributed measures of Gan wine. The more careful 
 of the old ladies were foraging for odd spoons, forks, 
 and napkins, and collecting the same in baskets, 
 filled ordinarily with Berlin worsted, but enlisted 
 to-day for this special purpose. " We ought to be 
 leaving,'^ observed one of the most prudent mothers. 
 " It is becoming quite dark, and I am afraid Captain 
 Prattle will give those men too much wine/' So a 
 move was made towards the carriages, into which 
 they crowded indiscriminately. We don't know 
 whether it was by chance, or design, but Dayrell 
 and Kate found themselves on a front seat, with a 
 horse-rug over their knees, very snug and comfort- 
 able, and opposite another youthful couple, the lady 
 having taken advantage of the melee and darkness 
 to leave her mother's wing. But though each couple 
 were so near, one heard nothing of what the other 
 said ; and while their coachman raced with one or 
 other of his brethren, and with his " Hoop — Hoop- 
 o-la," passed his rivals, they talked, oblivious of their 
 shouting charioteer, oblivious of even Mrs. Main- 
 chance's maternal eye, which peered through the 
 twilight, understood the situation, and murmured to 
 herself, " I always said so. It is a case ; after all 
 there is nothing like a pic-nic.^' 
 
 Then Townley, in high dudgeon, found himself 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 381 
 
 perched on a box by the side of Crotchet, when the 
 latter poured his experiences and explanations into 
 the Yorkshireman's ears. " You don't know the sex 
 as well as I," he remarked. "They treat worst 
 those whom they love best ; such as are indiflPerent 
 to their charms, they encourage to the utmost of 
 their power. Perhaps it is because in their pride 
 they would conceal from the sisterhood the attach- 
 ment they really feel ; perhaps they recoil from the 
 imputation that the love is all on their side; or 
 perhaps they fear lest you should feel secure in your 
 position, and wax lukewarm. Hence they teaze you, 
 and aggravate you in trifling matters until married, 
 when, perchance, they make pretty confessions in 
 the ears of their husbands, who, starting up in 
 amazement, — yes, awaking, as it were, from a dream 
 — wonder that they could have been blinded by so 
 transparent an artifice. 
 
 There is a picture of the Emperor Napoleon 
 nervously — we don't use the adverb in a pusil- 
 lanimous sense — nervously pacing a room with his 
 hands in favourite attitude behind his back, with 
 brow contracted into the deepest thought, before 
 signing his abdication at Fontainebleau. Thus, her 
 crotchet-work being tossed aside on the breakfast 
 table, Mrs. Bemers walked, and pensively pondered 
 over her daughter's revelations on the morning after 
 
382 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 the pic-nic. '' Yes, mamma^ he proposed to me, and, 
 in the kindest manner, without taking credit to him- 
 self, he told me what he had done about our law-suit. 
 I could not be unkind to him, mamma, dear, and I 
 would not, if it were ever so,'' — and the girl, re- 
 marking her mother's contracted brow, had burst 
 into tears. But Mrs. Berners was not only obsti- 
 nate, but had very little feeling. She utterly de- 
 spised a person who owned to feeling love for an- 
 other, that is, such as would prompt its possessor to 
 injure herself for the sake of the loved person. Self- 
 interest and her own pleasure were her leading 
 principles. It was her boast, that when she married 
 her husband in India, and he, poor man, wanted to 
 spend a quiet honey-moon with his bride, she replied, 
 "I'm not going to be immured to please any body ; I 
 shall go to parties and balls as before." Thus she was 
 not likely to appreciate Dayrell's good-nature per se. 
 " What right had he to do anything of the kind, to 
 put me under pecuniary obligations to him? I 
 would sooner lose the law- suit than submit to that. 
 He is a meddler, and I will tell him so to his face." 
 During thirty turns up and down the rooms this was 
 the tenour of her thoughts. Then followed the re- 
 action. He might, after all, not be so bad a match. 
 He had some money, expectations, and was of good 
 family. But then, what was to be done with 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 383 
 
 Townley ? She had promised to intercede for him — 
 almost told him that he should marry her daughter, 
 and if after this she threw him over, what would he 
 say? Talk of it everywhere — and the words of a 
 silly man are more to be feared than those of the wise 
 — and make Pan a most uncomfortable residence for 
 her. In her disgust at the failure of her schemes 
 a feather might have turned the balance. Still, 
 whether Townley or Dayrell became her son-in-law, 
 her diflBculties appeared great. 
 
 " Mr. Townley," announced the servant ; and that 
 worthy, sucking his cane and attempting to appear 
 at his ease, stumbled into the room. His dress was 
 worthy of the occasion : unsullied boots, blue frock- 
 coat, blue tie — not to mention his spotless white kids, 
 four pairs of which he spoilt ere he found one with- 
 out rent or stain. Then his hair fell in a graceful 
 curl over his right temple, and his cheek was so 
 rosy that he must have practised the young ladies' 
 plan of having a good rub before going into a ball- 
 room ; in fact, to use a somewhat hackneyed expres- 
 sion he looked as if fresh from a band-box, and as 
 though a touch would spoil all. He would have 
 made Mrs. Berners believe that his visit was unpre- 
 meditated — a mere morning call ; but that lady was 
 not to be deceived. At a glance she read him 
 through and through. 
 
384 WILD DATRELL. 
 
 " Pray take a chair, Mr. Townley," she said. The 
 pic-nic, I see, has done you no harm. Poor Kate has 
 a headache, but will be down to luncheon. Of 
 course you'll stay till then ?" 
 
 " I wish it was heartache," thought Townley. 
 Perhaps it was, but not exactly for the person he 
 wished. He muttered something about being sorry, 
 sucked his cane, and fixed his eyes on the fire- 
 place. 
 
 Mrs. Berners attempted to divert his thoughts 
 into some cheerful channel. She talked of the pic- 
 nic, the latest ball, of Ellen CalHster's score of 520 
 at the last archery meeting, wondered whether the 
 Tibbets were going to England this summer, and 
 whether the Fanes would be at Biarritz. " For Mrs. 
 Fane," she said, " has not forgotten the notice the 
 Empress took of their family last season. I dare say, 
 this time she expects permission to bathe in the 
 enclosure retained for the imperial party, or at least 
 to dine enfamille with them twice a- week !'* 
 
 Townley listened, and replied in monosyllables, 
 till luncheon was announced. They found Kate in 
 the dining-room. She was pale, but very composed. 
 Her somewhat cold reception did not set Townley 
 more at ease. The conversation flagged, till Mrs. 
 Berners casually remarked, 
 
 " Mr. Dayrell said he should call to-day, did he 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 385 
 
 not, Kate ? " (Oh, fie, Madam ; what a mild stretch 
 of imagination.) 
 
 " Not to me, mamma,^* replied Kate. 
 
 "What was he coming for?^' asked Townley with 
 interest. 
 
 " Merely to bring his race glasses. We wanted a 
 better view of the mountains than our old one gives. 
 Perhaps you have a better pair, Mr. Townley, and 
 will kindly lend them to us. In the meantime I 
 must write a letter for this post, if you will excuse 
 me for half an hour ; I dare say Kate and you will 
 not quarrel,^' and Mrs. Berners left the room. 
 
 At Winchester we used a phrase, which (and no 
 other so well) describes Townley's condition when 
 Mrs. Berners retired. He was " hard up for action." 
 His hand wandered to His hair, clung to his mous- 
 tache, stroked an incipient beard, made a semicircle 
 round his shirt collar, — although that article wanted 
 no manner of setting up, — played about his waist- 
 coat, and finally plunged into his trowser pockets, 
 where, meeting with a key, a pencil, and half-a-franc, 
 it expended its restlessness in gathering up those 
 articles and letting them fall in a series of avalanches. 
 Then his eye moved from the glass to his boots, from 
 his boots to his waistcoat, from his waistcoat to the 
 table. Then he made imaginary figures on the rug 
 with the toe of his boot. Yet even these manoeuvres 
 
 c c 
 
386 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 failed to give him confidence. Kate, though in no 
 laughing humour, was amused in spite of herself. 
 " If I was in his place/' she thought, " I would not 
 be such a Zany. I fancy I should have courage to 
 speak." She did not, however, tell him so; but, 
 guessing the object of his visit, and wishing it over, 
 she mentioned the gardens. '^The rhododendrons 
 are in flower now," she said ; " and this is the best 
 time to see them." So she took him into the garden, 
 where she showed him the flowers, and the tame 
 carp. Thence it was but a step to the harbour, the 
 original monk's nest. 
 
 Kate is leaning over the rail, and looking down 
 the precipice in the direction of the mountains. 
 Townley, more embarrassed than ever, is trying to 
 catch some inspiration from the contemplation of her 
 pretty profile. At length he opens the trenches with, 
 "You know. Miss Berners, why I am here to-day. 
 Your mamma has doubtless told you." 
 
 " No," said Kate, inwardly despising a man who 
 could make love by proxy. 
 
 A poser for Townley. He approached nearer, 
 touched her arm — she still turning her eyes in the 
 same direction. Then, growing desperate, like 
 Punch's officers of the 13th Light Pokers, he broke 
 the ice and disappeared, 
 
 " I have come to-day, Miss Berners, to ask you — 
 
WILD DAYUELL. 387 
 
 to ask you — to marry me. I would have done so 
 before, at Mrs. Maincliaiice^s ball, at the pic-nic 
 yesterday, but I had no opportunity. I should be 
 the happiest man in the world if I could hear you 
 say yes." No answer from Kate. " You don't know 
 what a capital county Yorkshire is/' he continued ; 
 '' all the year round there is shooting and hunting, — 
 I mean, there are archery meetings, balls, and dinner 
 parties. 'Gad, there is the hunt ball at York, the 
 best in the world, and held every year. Then the 
 society is so good, a little stiff perhaps, but you 
 would be well received. Miss Berners. Then we 
 might come to town sometimes, or go abroad, if you 
 wish. I am sure I would be the kindest husband " 
 — and Townley commenced the recapitulation of his 
 own cardinal virtues ; how he was a man of note in 
 the county, and how his mother and sisters doted 
 upon him. Then he described the glories of his 
 ancestral domain, how the acreage was so and so, 
 and how the arable and grass were equally distributed. 
 He even touched upon the new sort of draining tile 
 he was about to introduce, ['' Oh, nonsense,^^ says 
 a young lady to this. We beg your pardon, miss ; 
 it may be nonsense, but it is nevertheless true,) and 
 wound up with saying that all — even to the last tile, 
 we may suppose — should be hers, if she would 
 say "Yes!'' 
 
 c c2 
 
388 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 " You ask me to marry you ? ^' 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then I must decline/' replied Kate. 
 
 "What? Really? Think again. You cannot 
 refuse me.^' 
 
 " I mean what I say ; I cannot marry you." 
 
 " Why not ? You don't like me well enough ?'' 
 
 " No, I don't like you enough." 
 
 " Miss Berners/' said Townley, as excited, and 
 regardless of the damage to coat, hair, and trowsers, 
 he fell on his knees in approved fashion, "once 
 more, I ask you to retract." 
 
 " No/^ she said quite firmly. 
 
 " You love another better V 
 
 " Mr. Townley," she said, " you have no right to 
 ask me." 
 
 "Is it Mr. Dayrell?" 
 
 "I shall not answer any questions. Let us go 
 back to the house, please," said Kate, moving from 
 the arbour. 
 
 Townley caught her hand, as if to prevent her 
 going ; another minute and his lips touched it. We 
 believe, had he asked permission, she in pity would 
 have allowed him to do so. But he took her un- 
 awares, and Kate fired up. 
 
 " Mr. Townley," she said, " if you cannot behave 
 properly, if you must take such liberties, you may 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 389 
 
 look for another person, for I will not allow it. Let 
 me go ; here is mamma coming. Never ! no, never! " 
 she replied to his last appeal. 
 
 '^You must go back to Pan immediately?" said 
 Mrs. Berners, in a tone of intense disappointment 
 that no interview in her cosy boudoir was demanded 
 by Townley. " I hoped you were going to stay to 
 dinner." 
 
 '^ So I would/' he answered, " only I have business 
 at Pau. My carriage, you see, is waiting — could not 
 stop on any account — shall see you perhaps to- 
 morrow — Adieu ! " and in two minutes the noise of 
 his departing chariot wheels was no longer audible to 
 Mrs. Berners, as she stood astonished and perplexed 
 on the steps of her house. 
 
 c c3 
 
3&0 WILD DAYEELL. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 To use the language of the gentlemen of the turf, it 
 was the week after the Two Thousand. That race — 
 for nominally two thousand guineas, but, in fact, 
 much more — is forgotten. No one cares now to ask 
 why the favourite's coat broke out in blotches shortly 
 before the event, or who gave the order that its legs 
 should be beaten with a flogger every morning before 
 sunrise. That question is one of interest to the 
 gentlemen of the long robe only. It is a thing of 
 the past, and the whole world, sporting and other- 
 wise, are looking forward to the future — the result 
 of the Derby. In order to solve the problem of 
 which is to be the best three year old, all London 
 is attacked by a kind of equine fever. Now the 
 Two Thousand is supposed to be the key to the 
 Derby. Horses beaten in the former race should 
 have no chance for the latter. On paper it would 
 appear so ; but, somehow, the reverse invariably 
 happens. Either the horses at Newmarket did not 
 try, or were pulled, or were not in good form, or 
 would prefer a longer course. For their own in- 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 391 
 
 terest, people find excuses for the losers; the old 
 names are introduced into the betting, by which the 
 bookmakers profit, and the poor public bleeds. The 
 uncertainty, however, yields plenty of excitement. 
 At every club, smoking-room, and dinner-table, the 
 chances of the favourites are discussed ; any one 
 supposed to be in a stable secret is besieged with 
 enquiries; and all this intellectual energy is ex- 
 pended upon a few animals, who are about to run 
 over the Epsom sward at best pace for about three 
 minutes. Patter has heard from a ring man, who, 
 by judicious betting, wins on every horse, and, 
 therefore, can afford, so Patter says, to give an 
 impartial opinion to a friend, that if he did back 
 anything, it would be the renowned quadruped, 
 " Old Gooseberry/^ Clatter has just seen two men 
 round the corner, who declare " it is a duke to a 
 chimney-sweep on two;" while Batter, Hatter, and 
 others, have heard from some one, who saw some- 
 body else, who had drunk a glass of brandy and 
 water with Alfred Day, and learnt from him the 
 secret, that Necromancer could not lose. All which 
 conflicting opinions the neophyte takes in, and 
 going to his chambers, vainly endeavours to digest, 
 or, perchance, invests on each, and finds on the 
 morning of the 27th of May, that he loses 201. by 
 his best horse and 380/. by his worst, 
 c c 4 
 
392 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 The discussion of turf topics is the pastime of 
 the hour on the steps of the Polyolbion Club at 
 t3.30 P.M. Dayrell has just joined the knot of triflers. 
 It is his first appearance in public since his return 
 from the South of France. Straightway he recog- 
 nizes some of the old faces. " How are you ^'^ asks 
 Cherub, with a slight emphasis on the pronoun, and 
 holding out a little finger for Dayrell to shake. 
 '' Been abroad, eh ! Hot out there^ I suppose /' and 
 Cherub, who for years lived on the sixty per cent, 
 bounty of the children of Israel, but who now has 
 inherited the fortune of a relation, and drives a 
 four-in-hand, turns with an assumed languid air 
 to an individual, whose cut of trowsers and hat 
 proclaimed him, " All over Newmarket,^^ and listens 
 to some advice, to the meaning of which, the words, 
 ^' saw him at exercise," and '^ goes like a stag,'^ give 
 a clue. Bantling, the hero in other days of many 
 a hazardous enterprise, and dictionary to every pretty 
 face this side of Temple Bar, stops an instant to 
 moralize with Dayrell. But a Hansom passes before 
 he has finished his tale of London dulness compared 
 with what it used to be. Into it sneaks Bantling, 
 remarking, " We married fellows, you know, must be 
 punctual,^^ and drives to his nuptial bower in — — 
 Square, where his wife — as a kind of retributive 
 justice for former sins — chides him for being so late, 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 393 
 
 and declares he shall not go to that odious club 
 again. Passes in his brougham, Boreas, who, from 
 the wilds of " Mesopotamia," in other days plodded 
 it on foot to the City. He kisses his white- gloved 
 hand to Dayrell, and with an air of patronage asks, 
 "What are you doing?" Waits for no answer, but 
 shouts imperiously to the coachman, " Spelter's," 
 and still kissing his hand to various passers-by, is 
 driven to that colossal bill-loving establishment. 
 And Tipster, the most unlucky of turf prophets, 
 rushes through the folding doors of the club with 
 half a dozen unread letters in his hand, and turns 
 to Dayrell, "whose absence of four years he has 
 forgotten,^' with the query, " Who 's to win ? " Then 
 he goes on to lament how he did not see our hero 
 at Newmarket, or he might have put him on such 
 
 a real good thing, and that at Epsom But, 
 
 you do not bet, and you are not going there. Is it 
 possible?" Tipster says, and is staggered. Then on 
 Dayrell he casts a half-pitying, half-reproachful look, 
 — just such as a stage coachman might on seeing his 
 oldest passenger depart by the train ; and marking a 
 youthful speculator of more promising mould, is at 
 his side in an instant, detailing a most important 
 (if not mythical) trial Old Gooseberry has had with 
 Boanerges. There are as good fish in the sea for 
 Tipster as ever came out of it. 
 
394 WILD DATEELL. 
 
 " Their ways are no longer mine/' thought Dayrell. 
 " Everything and everybody seem changed. It was 
 so different five years ago, when I used to meet a 
 good fellow, and it was, ' Where will you dine ? and 
 what will you do this evening ? ' when we straight- 
 way linked arms, and saw each other through a 
 long, if not a very innocent, round of fun. But now 
 the connecting link of kindred pursuit is severed. 
 They only nod to me, and pass me with a simple, 
 " How are you ? ' And why ? Is it because I can 
 tell them nothing new about what is to them the 
 breath of life; because I know nothing of the 
 women, the new racing moves ; because I have not 
 cast my lot with any party ? Worse than aU, I have 
 not the heart, not the inclination to begin again. I 
 should feel weary ere I had ascended the first steps 
 of the ladder. I feel myself out of the race. Left 
 behind by my rivals, I must finish it alone — ^yes, 
 alone.^^ And while the irreproachable cutlet of the 
 Polyolbion was being prepared, and Oldbore flourish- 
 ing a copy of the Times, repeated, as he does every 
 day of the year to each fresh comer, '^ No news in 
 the paper at all," Dayrell reviewed, with much 
 bitterness of spirit, the course of events since the 
 memorable pic-nic. 
 
 We also will put back the clock and review the 
 same. 
 
WILD DAYKELL. 395 
 
 The morning succeeding that on which Tow^iley's 
 advances had been repulsed by Kate, a scented, pink 
 note lay on DayrelFs breakfast-table. " An invita- 
 tion to dinner or an archery meeting/^ said our hero, 
 breaking the seal. " Hallo ! what's this ? Bagneres 
 de Luchon, Montpellier, and the beautiful Mediter- 
 ranean ! Why the old lady must be mad or is hoax- 
 ing me." Again he applied himself to its contents, 
 and read — 
 
 "My daughter has acquainted me of the kind 
 interest you have taken in the matter of our law- 
 suit. I had no idea you were so engaged, or had 
 advanced money on our account. I have written to 
 my lawyers to put us out of your debt. At the same 
 time pray accept our best thanks, which I only regret 
 I cannot render personally, but circumstances render 
 it necessary for us to leave Pau immediately. We 
 intend paying a short visit to Bagneres de Luchon, 
 Montpellier, and other beautiful places on the Medi- 
 terranean. We start to-morrow morning, and with 
 our united thanks for your disinterested conduct, 
 " I remain, 
 
 " Yours very truly, 
 " C. Berners. 
 
 " P.S. — We may be in London next June, and stay 
 at my sister^s house. I hope you will call there, as I 
 
396 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 am sure she will be glad to ask you to one of her 
 little parties, and Kate would be pleased to meet you 
 and talk over old times in the South of France." 
 
 "This is too much/^ said Dayrell. "Can such 
 utter heartlessness dwell in woman's heart ? That I 
 who have braved the garlic of Bayonne, who threw 
 my bank-notes into the scale, who have twice offered 
 myself and all I have to her daughter, should be 
 dismissed with ^the hopes' of my ^company to one 
 of her sister's little parties.' Is it possible that the 
 reward of love, that devotion's medaille d/honneur, 
 should be a prospective invite to a ' muffin- worry ? ' '' 
 He tossed the scented note into the fire, but, before 
 it was alight, withdrew its blackened corpse, thrust 
 it and his hand into his pockets, and had a bitter 
 tussle with the evil spirit that raged within him. 
 The spret(B injuria form(B was the primary cause of 
 this outburst. Alas ! when is self, in the shape of 
 wounded vanity, not uppermost in man^s thoughts ? 
 " So I am to be tossed aside," he thought, " treated 
 civilly, politely, and have a bit of sop thrown to me 
 sometimes in the shape of an invitation to dinner, 
 and a seat next Kate, till she with her handsome 
 dowry becomes the prize of the first titled reprobate 
 that offers himself. I shall be asked to see the wed- 
 ding presents, invited to the breakfast, introduced to 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 397 
 
 the son-in-law^ and Kate, after the ceremony, will 
 talk to me for five minutes, and do a bit of humbug 
 by calling me her dear Edward. But she cannot be 
 as bad as that. No ; it is impossible. It cannot be 
 Kate^s fault : it is her mother's. I will send for one 
 of Crohairee's carriages, go to their house, and wait in 
 the grounds till I see Kate, and hear my fate from 
 her lips.^' 
 
 So he sent for a carriage, but neither at Crohairee's, 
 Boiteux's, or the other depots, was one to be had. 
 It was fine weather, and people had gone to pay their 
 flying visits to the Pyrenees. Three hours must have 
 been cut to waste before the porter brought one to 
 the hotel. He was on his way to the Berners^ house, 
 and meditating what he should say; whether he 
 should take the high injured line, or appeal to Kate's 
 feelings and excite her pity. The latter seemed the 
 best, for he knew how few women could resist a tale 
 of sorrow of which themselves were the cause. His 
 carriage was taking the last turn out of Juran^on, 
 when he met another coming from the opposite 
 direction, with the blinds lowered on account of the 
 sun and dust. The people inside he could not see, 
 but he recognised the man and maid-servant in the 
 rumble : in fact, he could not be mistaken in their 
 identity, for the former removed his hat and saluted 
 him in French fashion. " It is them, and I am too 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 late !" he ejaculated. « Shall I follow ?" But one 
 glance at his wooden-legged, jaded old horse con- 
 vinced him that pursuit was hopeless. Besides, what 
 had he to gain by an interview ? A few hypocritical 
 words from Mrs. Berners, and scarcely a syllable 
 from Kate worth listening to when her mother was 
 present. So he stopped the coachman, left his car- 
 riage, and returned to Pan on foot, for fear some of 
 the lynx-eyed gossips should know of his failure, and 
 have a good laugh at his expense. 
 
 The Berners secession was a terrible blow. Now 
 that she was gone — gone without a word of explana- 
 tion — gone with but a slender chance of his ever 
 meeting her again, — he felt, for the first time, how 
 much he had loved. To think that every hour put so 
 many more kilometres between him and her, that 
 their post-horses were even then bowling down the 
 inclines on the road to Toulouse, while the riders, in 
 their Napoleon boots and short-tailed jackets, shouted, 
 ^' Hoop-Hoop-o-la " more lustily when they thought 
 the belle Anglaise was watching their efi*orts. He would 
 gladly have changed places, or seats, with one of the 
 latter even for one short stage. Pan now was utterly 
 distasteful to him. Every walk, shop, and turn in the 
 streets reminded him of Kate. Here was the cir- 
 cuitous path, and there the seat in the Park, where 
 she told him that town-life could have no charms for 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 399 
 
 her, when in the country she could find such scenery 
 and beauty as that before her. If he went near the 
 Mairie it reminded him of the bachelors^ ball ; if he 
 took a walk near the chateau he thought of the 
 archery meeting on the plain of Bilheres, and how 
 Kate, in ascending the hill with him alone, was tired, 
 and having with one hand gathered up the folds of 
 her dress, looked around to see if any gossiping 
 people were near, and, not seeing any, placed her 
 other lightly on Dayrell's arm. It was but little 
 consolation for him to hear that Townley's ofibr had 
 been refused, or that the tongue of scandal said that 
 Mrs. Berners was furious because Mr. Townley had 
 proposed to her daughter instead of her, and that 
 that was the cause of their sudden departure. But 
 although he took some pains to refute such reports, 
 Townley cared for none of those words. In fact, no 
 one wore the willow more contentedly — we may say, 
 more proudly — than he did. It brought him into 
 notice : he strutted on the Place more consequentially 
 than before, and his vanity was tickled by the atten- 
 tions of more than one young lady, who had no 
 objection to link her fortunes with those of the re- 
 jected swain. 
 
 So refusing Mrs. Mainchance^s pressing invitation 
 to one more — the very last — pic-nic, or to join a party 
 of rash speculators who had lost at the Club at Pau, 
 
400 WILD DAYUELL. 
 
 and were going to Bordeaux for the race week under 
 Diabole's guidance to win back all their losses — a 
 trip that might be reasonably expected to end in 
 disaster for the English, and keep Diabole in drink, 
 food, and lodging for the next eighteen months — 
 Dayrell returned to England with but two ideas : first, 
 to consult Hamber, and next to see Mrs. Berners* 
 lawyers. 
 
 Early in the day on which we just now found 
 Dayrell melancholy and moralizing upon the steps of 
 the Polyolbion Club, he had been to Hamber's offices 
 in Lincoln^s Inn. He had driven to the square — 
 the deserted, yes ! even by cabmen, who are not 
 sufficiently credulous to expect a back -fare from 
 thence — that square of dingy-window frames, through 
 which no one ever seems to look on the grass, for fear 
 Nature should prove antagonistic to parchment — 
 that square of arches and nooks, which remind one 
 of the places we used in childhood to see placarded 
 with " Beware of the big dog," and inspiring us with 
 equally uncomfortable feelings as we crossed the 
 threshold — and, after some trouble, he found his 
 friend^s chambers. 
 
 ^^ Here they are, and in a new building,^^ he said 
 to himself, as he read the name on the side panel. 
 '^ Bravo, Hamber, you march with the times; you 
 have nothing to do with the rickety staircase and the 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 401 
 
 cobweb-hung office, but patronize plate-glass windows 
 and the very latest novelty in architecture, — the only 
 modern house, I see, in the square. I shouldn^t 
 wonder if Hamber has introduced the glass of sherry 
 and sandwich system ; baits his trap with the driest 
 Montilia and the crispest Abernethy biscuit. Here 
 is the door ; let us open and see." Hope, alas ! told 
 a flattering tale. The boy-clerk, on being ques- 
 tioned, replied in one breath, " Mr. Hamber 's out — 
 not be back to-day — ^leave your name." If Hamber 
 marches with the times, he likewise marches every 
 
 Saturday to ; he supports the early closing 
 
 movement, and is also a volunteer. Dayrell in 
 disgust descended the staircase, and betook himself 
 to the Polyolbion for consolation, with what results 
 we showed in the opening of this chapter. 
 
 But even the idle Apollo does not always bend his 
 bow; nor is Hamber always smoking the normal 
 pipe of the volunteer and shouldering a long Enfield. 
 There is a Monday in every week, and in more than 
 a moiety of the Mondays in the year our lawyer 
 returns to his desk with a headache, and a nervous 
 feverish state of body. 
 
 "Who did you say called on Saturday? Mr. Quod 
 
 —Sir Arthur Scapegrace — Mr. who? Sir — 
 
 Daniel, did you say ? Now remember, you are on 
 your oath, and fancy yourself in the august presence 
 
402 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 of judge and jury, repeat that name. Daniel, you 
 answer? And pray wlio is Mr. Daniel, and what 
 was he like?^^ were Hamber's interrogatories to his 
 boy-clerk. 
 
 " Please, Sir, he was tall and thin ; said he would 
 call again; and hoped he should catch you." 
 
 "Much obliged to you for nothing, Mr. Daniel. 
 But tell me, boy, how was he dressed ? Was he a 
 gentleman or a Hebrew? Had he a straight or a 
 hooked nose ? " 
 
 " Please, Sir, I did not observe." 
 
 " You young villain," exclaimed Hamber, flourish- 
 ing a ruler about the boy's head. " Do you think I 
 keep you to spoil sheets of foolscap paper with your 
 scribbling, and to stain the desks with ink ? Now, 
 Sir, brush up your wits, and recollect something 
 about the gentleman. What sort of a nose had he ?" 
 
 " Please, Sir, I don't know." 
 
 "Was it hooked?" 
 
 " I am not quite sure." 
 
 "Will you swear. Sir, it was not hooked?" 
 
 "No, I will not." 
 
 "Well cross-examined, — keeping your voice in 
 practice," interrupted Dayrell, as he came into the 
 room. 
 
 " That's him ! that's Mr. Daniel," said the urchin, 
 to the amusement of Dayrell and the discomposure 
 
WILD DAYKELL. 403 
 
 of Hamber, and slipping off at the same time to his 
 high stool out of reach of his master's ruler. 
 
 But his master took no notice of him, but turning 
 to Dayrell, said, " You overheard our conversation ; 
 I beg your pardon, it was about you. That little 
 villain said a Mr. Daniel called here on Saturday. 
 That name is not on my list of clients ; and I began 
 to think I had had a visit from a sheriffs officer on 
 pressing business. Sit down, Mr. Dayrell, I hope I 
 have to congratulate you.*' 
 
 " On my return to England ? Yes. On success in 
 a certain quarter ? No. But I see ' Private ' on the 
 door yonder ; I suppose we can have a quarter of an 
 hour's quiet talk." 
 
 '^Certainly,'' said Hamber, leading the way into 
 an ill-furnished room, littered with every description 
 of docketed papers. 
 
 "So the old lady was unkind to you," Hamber 
 answered, when Dayrell had concluded his story 
 respecting his misfortunes at Pan. " Sad to think 
 that so much time and trouble were wasted. But, 
 Lord bless you, the ladies are quite as bad as the 
 male sex. They will coax you, and make much of 
 you so long as you can be useful. Their object gained, 
 they will throw you aside as coolly as possible, and 
 without remorse." 
 
 " You are wrong, Hamber, Mrs. Berners has not 
 dd2 
 
404 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 thrown me over. You forget I volunteered the 
 search for the certificate ; of my own free will and 
 choice I went to Bayonne. I never consulted a soul 
 but you. She shows her gratitude in her own way ; 
 she asks me to a tea-party in London. Perhaps she 
 thinks that the height of bliss ; I must not quarrel 
 with her because we differ in opinion. Besides, I 
 am not beaten yet ; I shall have been the means of 
 their gaining a fortune. Perhaps, when they come 
 to town, they will have something better than tea- 
 parties to offer to the ' author of their well-being.' '' 
 
 " Well done, you will not give in. Now I '11 tell 
 you what I have been doing since my return to town. 
 I have seen Mrs. Berners' lawyers more than once. 
 They hope to get a verdict; but you know, we 
 lawyers are an incredulous suspicious race. We 
 make certain of nothing ; at least, so we tell those 
 who consult us. We congratulate no one till the 
 verdict is given, the last appeal set aside, and every 
 paper signed, and hidden in our strong boxes. We 
 only hope for a good result ; we keep our clients in 
 a state of doubt and uncertainty. Mrs. Berners' 
 lawyers have sent for her to come to town. First 
 they will require a guarantee for the expenses of the 
 trial ; then they will weary that good lady with a 
 beautiful combination of hopes and fears, which will 
 make her the most humble, and at the same time. 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 405 
 
 the most disgusted of mortals. That is your moment 
 to step in — a month from this, when she is fairly 
 embarked in the legal sea of trouble. Not a scion 
 of the Berners' family can tell their benefactor to 
 step out. In a few days you may be in-and-out of 
 that house like a tame dog. You can be always 
 calling on the excuse of business. I will keep you 
 well supplied with legal phrases and information. In 
 a word, make yourself the connecting link between us 
 and the ladies. If you will follow my advice, I 
 wager, that before the judge puts on his spectacles, 
 and sums up the case, you are engaged to Miss 
 Berners. Stay; I'll bet no money, but only a dinner 
 at the Star and Garter, that what I say comes true.^' 
 
 '^ I like to listen to you," said Dayrell ; '' it puts 
 one in good spirits. By your own showing, you are 
 no lawyer, or, rather, don't follow the legal receipts 
 of success. You not only predict, but stake a dinner 
 on the event. Being, therefore, of no use as a pro- 
 fessional adviser, suppose you put on your hat, and 
 introduce me to Mrs. Berners' lawyers. She told me, 
 you know, to call on them. Now, will you come ? " 
 
 " And leave my poor clientelle to thirst for informa- 
 tion, and unable to invest their superfluous six and 
 eight-pennies ; leave them to walk disconsolate round 
 my rooms, stare at the maps, and badger my clerk — 
 that villainous boy, I mean — with questions, until, in 
 
 D D 3 
 
406 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 his confusion, he will ' execute and assign^ that draft 
 in a way by no means contemplated by its original 
 drawer. Still, in the cause of friendship, and, with 
 ulterior views to a glass of soda and brandy, I am 
 yours to command. Boy, give me my hat. Say to 
 all who come that I am with the Attorney-General, 
 and shall be back in half an hour.^' 
 
 '' That 's the room where you would have been 
 obliged to wait an hour, if I had not accompanied you," 
 said Hamber, showing Dayrell a cabin, 16 feet by 12, 
 with maps on the wall, and with a London Directory 
 and advertisement sheet of The Times on the table. 
 '' They put a poor client in there sometimes, who is 
 so utterly disgusted at the time they keep him, that 
 he rushes out, and declares to the clerk that he will 
 take his case out of their hands. ^1^11 let my prin- 
 cipal know,' says the clerk, coldly. Two minutes, and 
 a ruddy, pleasant fellow, of two and twenty, and heir 
 to large estates, calls, and is sent up to the sanctum 
 without a moment's delay. We know which side 
 our bread is buttered," added Hamber, with a wink. 
 '' First come are not the first served." 
 
 "Good morning, Mr. Hamber," said the legal 
 owner of the cabin, and professional adviser — mag- 
 nificent term — to Mrs. Berners. " This is Mr. 
 Dayrell, you say. I will attend to his business at 
 once." 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 407 
 
 The lawyer whistled down a pipe. A clerk obeyed 
 the summons^ and brought some papers. The former 
 extracted from the mass one^ which was a minute of 
 Mrs. Berners' last letter. He consulted it for a 
 moment, then fumbled with his cheque-book, and 
 handed Dayrell a piece of pink-tinted paper. 
 
 " You will find that the right amount, I think," 
 he said. " You will excuse me, gentlemen, for dis- 
 missing you at once, but I am very much engaged 
 at present. Mr. Hamber knows what a busy time 
 this is for us poor lawyers.^^ 
 
 " You can tell me, perhaps, when Mrs. Berners is 
 coming to town ? " asked Dayrell. 
 
 '^ No, I cannot," shortly answered the lawyer. 
 
 " But she is coming ; at least, I have heard so," 
 persisted Dayrell. 
 
 *' Have you?'' 
 
 "But you don't know who I am," continued 
 Dayrell. "It was I who found the evidence you 
 required at Bayonne, and for that purpose spent 
 three or four days there." 
 
 "Pretty place, theytellme — pretty place," answered 
 the lawyer ; " but you must not waste any more of 
 my time. Robert, show Mr. Broadacres in. Good 
 morning, gentlemen." 
 
 And Dayrell and Hamber left the office. 
 
 "By the powers, he tried to cross-examine a 
 D D 4 
 
408 WILD DATRELL. 
 
 lawyer/' said Hamber to himself. " Poor fellow ; 
 does he expect to draw water out of a stone ? Did 
 he think anything short of the rack would have 
 elicited the smallest particle of information? Poor 
 creature — poor creature ! ! " 
 
WILD DATRELL. 409 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 '^ I FOUND the court small, hot, and crowded. Why 
 crowded, I could not for the life of me divine. 
 Nothing could be more uninteresting than the sub- 
 ject, nothing more ungraceful than the Vice-Chan- 
 cellor s dehvery. When the little man's nose was 
 not in close proximity to his notes, it was in the air, 
 sniffing inspiration for the coming sentence; and 
 after every full stop his body moved backwards and 
 forwards like a crooked pendulum. Of the bar, some 
 members slept, some read the newspaper, scarcely 
 any one listened to his lordship, save a junior with 
 ferret eyes, who seemed to drink in the words of 
 wisdom, wholly unconscious of the slip of paper 
 labelled, ' Brother to Cicero, scratched at ten p.m.,' 
 which a facetious brother had slipped into his wig. 
 It was a will case, and the summing up will not be 
 finished to-day. There is no chance of your trial 
 beginning before the middle of next week. So, if 
 you will take my advice, you will leave town for a 
 few days. These visits to your lawyers have made 
 
410 WILD DAYHELL. 
 
 you nervous and uncomfortable. A change will do 
 you good. What do you say to Windsor for a week ? 
 Wednesday is the fourth of June, the Eton boys' 
 holiday. Shall we go?" 
 
 Thus spoke Dayrell to Mrs. Berners in the quite- 
 at-home tone of a confidential adviser. That lady, 
 but lately arrived from Montpellier, in consequence of 
 a peremptory letter from her lawyer, was now in 
 London, and staying with her sister. She had 
 already paid several visits to Lincoln's Inn, and was 
 weary of legal personages and papers. Her brain 
 comprehended not the explanations, to her more 
 enigmatical than a sphynxian riddle. She yearned 
 for some one to take her part ; or at least to explain 
 bit by bit what it was necessary she should know. 
 At that moment Dayrell called, primed with forensic 
 lore and verbiage, partly found him by Hamber, 
 partly invented by himself. Not that his language 
 was strictly en regie. As the would-be yachtsman, 
 who has never been on the sea, talks to the un- 
 initiated about " luffing the taffrail," and " boxing the 
 fo'castle," so Dayrell selected the longest and most 
 imposing phrases, without the slightest regard to 
 sense. At one moment he would fit in a " contingent 
 remainder '' to an odd corner of his discourse, and 
 at another would earn a reputation for the pro- 
 foundest knowledge of the law by talking of a " nolle 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 411 
 
 prosequi.^' Mrs. Berners seized the crutch that was 
 offered her; leant on it, and in a few days could not 
 walk without it. Kate at first did not like this 
 monopoly of the crutch by her mother ; she pouted 
 and worked at her crotchet in moody silence ; but 
 by and bye she began to believe in Dayrell's forensic 
 wisdom, and to Hsten attentively while he expounded 
 the law. 
 
 Now people who have lived much abroad dislike 
 the orthodox restraint of an English household. 
 Mrs. Berners, weary of the punctuality and fussiness 
 of her sister's establishment ; weary of hearing the 
 chimes of the clocks, and that one in particular on 
 the staircase, which played the Old Hundredth at 
 nine o'clock so regularly every morning; weary of 
 that philanthropic sister, who spoke in such gleeful 
 terms of how she had sent flannel to the South Sea 
 Islanders, and English Testaments to the hearse- 
 drivers of Madagascar, quite ignoring the wants of 
 the unenlightened populace living within stone's- 
 throw of her house, was quite dehghted with Dayrell's 
 proposition. Kate, too, pined for the country and 
 her flowers. Report spoke well of Windsor Park 
 and its ferns. It was country, and not like that 
 horrid London, where she could not go out without 
 a body-guard. Besides, she had a little pride of her 
 own. She didn't like to be seen in her aunt^s dingy 
 
412 WILD DAYEELL. 
 
 brougham, whose horse was rough in coat, and 
 whose old coachman looked on his box like a chim- 
 panzee with the cramp. If she could not ride in a 
 barouche, attended by a Jeames with legs un- 
 matched in the great calf-market, wherever that may- 
 be, she would sooner stay at home. Even Kate's 
 maid, accustomed to the flower of foreign cafes^ 
 pricked up her ears when she heard of the cravates 
 blanches of the Eton boys. The greatest conquest 
 she ever made was a Bordeaux barrister, who under 
 his grey Napoleon-cut beard wore a white tie, since 
 which epoch she had always a lingering penchant 
 for the colour and the blend. 
 
 But although the " Fourth of June" was the osten- 
 sible cause of their visit to Windsor, none of them 
 had the slightest idea of what they were going to see 
 on that festive occasion. They had a sort of vague 
 notion that there would be a gathering of boys in 
 freemasons^ aprons round a banner, planted on a 
 place called Salt Hill, to be followed by an exciting 
 race on the river between a ten and eight-oar. 
 Afraid of parading their ignorance, they asked no 
 questions, but went to Windsor in a delicious flutter 
 of expectation. Thus it came to pass that the pro- 
 gramme disappointed them. True, they occupied 
 conspicuous seats while the speeches were made, and 
 thus exhibited Madame Devy's last triumph in the 
 
WILD DATRELL. 413 
 
 floricultural bonnet-line ; but they thought it too bad 
 that there should be no boat-race, no planting a 
 banner with time-honoured rites. A procession of 
 boats and the fireworks were set for the evening; 
 but these did not fulfil their foreign notions of what 
 a fete should be. Besides, a cold prevented Kate 
 attending the festivities of the evening. But Mrs. 
 Berners had made up her mind to do the river, to 
 see all that was to be seen; and Dayrel], much 
 against his will, was obliged to leave Kate, and ac- 
 company her. On such a night, when the river was 
 studded with craft of every size, when punts laden 
 with sight- seers shot out every moment from the 
 shore, when Bills and Sams, of the chafiy, beer- 
 drinking, waterside stamp, steered their boats with a 
 reckless disregard of what they bumped or whose 
 timbers they shivered, it was venturous for an 
 amateur to attempt to wield a pole. DayrelFs ex- 
 perience of the vagaries of a punt was confined to a 
 cruise or two on the Cherwell, when some towing 
 power up stream, and the current down stream 
 respectively did the work. So, on the evening of 
 the Fourth of June, when he essayed to wield the 
 punt-pole, like Mr. Robinson riding the camel, he did 
 it in a sort of way — a sort of way unsatisfactory alike 
 to his freight, whom he splashed with water, and other 
 mariners whose barks he fouled without remorse. 
 
414 WILD DAYEELL. 
 
 " Now then, where was you brought up ? Is that 
 the way you use your tooth-pick ? For a tanner 1^11 
 steer you better with my little finger ;" were among 
 the remarks elicited by Dayrell's mild efforts on the 
 water, and, by the time that good luck and the 
 current had drifted their punt to a station — the worst 
 possible for seeing the boats and fireworks — Mrs. 
 Berners had made up her mind that it was all very 
 dangerous, and congratulated herself at having 
 escaped the fate of all those who go down unto the 
 sea in ships. 
 
 "No, don^t do so," said Dayrell, as he fixed his 
 pole firmly in the mud. " We were in Chancery, 
 
 but now '^ and he looked towards the people in 
 
 the boats near his, as though he deserved some kvBo<; 
 for being where he was. '^It was a severe trial. I 
 have not punted these eight years — certainly not 
 since I left Oxford. Out of practice, you know, 
 Mrs. Berners. How Kate would have laughed had 
 she seen my efforts to keep her head straight." 
 
 " Whose head, Mr. DayreU ? I am sure you are 
 not very complimentary." 
 
 " This ship's, Mrs. Berners. Vessels, you know, 
 are feminine, because the sailor loves his old crafty so 
 well. He might like, but he could not love anything 
 masculine or neuter ; so he must talk of her head. 
 But sometimes, Mrs. Berners, the vessel does not 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 415 
 
 return the love. She is faithless, she throws him 
 overboard, or she leaves him behind at some foreign 
 out-port, or takes on with others more to her liking. 
 Then she is the same to him as though she had struck 
 on a rock or sunk in mid-ocean, for, as it appears, he 
 is separated for ever from her whom he loves best." 
 *^ What a melancholy idea, Mr. Dayrell." 
 "But sometimes the sailor meets her again in a 
 home-port, forgives his old crafty, and stands happily 
 and proudly on that deck as before. Has he not 
 returned to his first and only love? Yes, Mrs. 
 Berners, you cannot believe it," he continued, em- 
 boldened by that good lady's silence ; " but I have 
 been in the position of the sailor who loved his vessel. 
 I have served for a time, and have found no favour 
 with her captain. I have been separated from my 
 first love for a short space, and have found her again 
 in port. If she is to start on another voyage, I hope 
 to be on that good ship's books. Do you understand 
 my meaning, Mrs. Berners ? Then I must come to 
 the point at once. You remember how intimate we 
 were in the South of France, and how you left sud- 
 denly, without giving me or any of your friends 
 notice. I was prepared at that moment — at least, on 
 that very day — to ask your consent to my marriage 
 with your daughter. I was separated from her for a 
 time, but have, by good luck, met her again. I take 
 
416 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 this opportunity of telling yon that all I have done 
 — small as that is — was for her sake — all done to gain 
 your consent to our marriage. Whether you win or 
 lose the trial, it is the same to me. I still offer my- 
 self, and am prepared to assist you in any way as 
 regards that matter. You know, as your accepted 
 son-in-law, I can offer to do more than a mere 
 stranger. You cannot, I am sure, refuse me. If 
 you have any conditions, name them, and I will 
 cheerfully accept them.'^ 
 
 " Hooroosh ! Hullabaloo ! That chap 's in the 
 water. Here he is up again, with the shilling in his 
 mouth. Brayvo, brayvo V shouted the mob on the 
 bridge, while at the same time a crowd of boats put 
 off to render help if necessary. 
 
 " I tell you, it is five pounds I have won. Here, 
 give it me," exclaimed a well-known voice. " I will 
 have it before I change my wet clothes." 
 
 " Will you ? " replied a laughing subaltern. "Done 
 for once, Limmer. True, I bet you five pounds. You 
 thought I meant pounds sterling; it was the lbs. weight 
 of anything, mud, rags, or something in that line.'' 
 
 " Hurrah ! here's a selV^ shouted the mob, as it 
 followed the disputants over the bridge. " I '11 bet 
 you a pound. Captain, you donH do it again," " and 
 I," " and 1,^' " and I," reiterated different members 
 of the unwashed fraternity. 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 417 
 
 " It is only a man I was with at Oxford/' replied 
 Dayrell, to Mrs. Berners' interrogatory. "He is 
 always betting with somebody. He is very sharp, 
 and he seems to have met his match to-day. But 
 you have not answered my question, Mrs. Berners." 
 
 " Really, Mr. Dayrell, your proposals have taken 
 me by surprise. Suppose we talk it over to-morrow 
 morning. Look, here are the boats. Could not 
 you move us into a better position to see the fire- 
 works ? That is the signal rocket," she exclaimed, 
 as a fiery messenger soared on high with a fizz, a 
 rushing sound, and ended in an explosion that called 
 forth, " Oh, oh, ohs,'' of real or pretended admira- 
 tion from the spectators. 
 
 Then Dayrell put off once more from the shore, 
 and flourished his pole more recklessly than ever. 
 The Sams and Bills may execrate him now as much 
 as they please. He scarcely hears them; he cer- 
 tainly don't care for them. 
 
 There was great joy in the little house at Windsor 
 that evening. Kate's cold vanished, like the morning 
 mist, on hearing the news, which Dayrell communi- 
 cated to her, while Mrs. Berners underwent an hour 
 of self-imposed banishment in an upper chamber; 
 and this good mother passed a night of meditation. 
 No doubt, she turned restlessly in the maternal four- 
 poster, and picked her fingers to pieces before she 
 
 E E 
 
418 WILD DAYEELL. 
 
 came to the conclusion that it would not be such a 
 bad match after all. When she met Dayrell next 
 morning in the study — there was a study even in 
 that house, gloomy, bare of furniture, and in which 
 the imprisoned air struck coldly to the bone — she 
 offered no obstacles, did not even propose the forma- 
 tion of a '^ Limited Liability Company," being con- 
 tent with Dayrell's simple word, and an assurance 
 from Tales that all arrangements could soon be 
 made. 
 
 Strange to tell, the trial never came off. When 
 the solicitors on each side had worked every engine, 
 and discharged every shot, for which the law per- 
 mitted them to demand remuneration ; when folios 
 of foolscap had been covered with costs, resembling 
 in detail the account rendered by a fashionable 
 upholsterer, where every nail, screw, cord, pulley, 
 polishing, and repairing is set down with painful 
 accuracy; the other side proposed a compromise. 
 " A compromise !" Mrs. Berners exclaimed, when she 
 heard of it. " I won^t listen to it. Their case is 
 weak, and they know it. I will go on." But the 
 terms proposed were very advantageous, the uncer- 
 tainty of the law very great, — a fact Mrs. Berners 
 was prevailed upon to recognize after a mighty ex- 
 penditure of words and quoting of examples. With 
 this happy termination of the great Berners' lawsuit 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 419 
 
 Dayrell had much to do; and as the last paper 
 was signed by Mrs. Berners, and witnessed by 
 himself, he turned to his pretty Kate, and said, " It 
 is now, dearest, our turn. To make my prophecy 
 come true, that you should become an heiress and 
 my wife at the same time, you must fix as early a 
 day as possible, — a day pn which the sceptre of 
 bachelordom is to pass from me, and on which I am 
 to lay down my title of * Wild,' declaring solemnly 
 that that soubriquet shall know me no more." 
 
 Dr. Moberly, Grand Master of St. Mary's College, 
 Winchester, entered the school-room one day, the 
 boys, "up to books," greeting him with a rise en 
 masse. 
 
 " Stand up, Cheekey, the elder," said the Master, 
 selecting a copy of verses out of those in his hand, 
 "and tell me why you have begun yours with an 
 ' Et.' " 
 
 Cheekey, the elder, well-known for his pilferings 
 from the Gradus ad Parnassum, and his laborious 
 attempts to make the "barest" of hexameters scan, 
 rose from his seat, stammered out, "Please, Sir," 
 and took breath. 
 
 "Well, Cheekey, the elder," asked the Grand 
 again, " what explanation have you to give ?" 
 
 " Please, Sir," a stop. " Please, Sir, you gave us 
 
 E E 2 
 
420 WILD DAYRELL. 
 
 that theme six weeks ago. You said my copy of 
 verses then were very spirited, and that I was to 
 take two places. All my ideas could not be ex- 
 hausted in that effort. The same carried out with, 
 I hope, more spirit, you will find in the copy you 
 have in your hand, and connected with the former 
 by the word ^Et.'" 
 
 Thus, instead of drawing the threads of our story 
 together, and dismissing the dramatis personce with 
 a few words, we may, like Cheekey, the elder, in- 
 troduce their names into a second volume, more 
 especially, if the earlier incidents of their career 
 meet with public approval. There is only one 
 character that demands a word, or rather, a kindly 
 dismissal. It is little Ellen Callister, whose pleasant 
 ringing laugh, and whose happy sun-shiny face is 
 still bound up with our memories of the past. We 
 left her, the night of the pic-nic, walking with Sir 
 Arthur — a walk that ended in an engagement, and 
 congratulations from the whole English body trans- 
 pontine. Sir Arthur went to England that April. 
 They were to be married as soon as the usual lawyer's 
 business had been completed. But that wedding 
 was never solemnized. Either Sir Arthur met some 
 one he liked better, or he repented of his hasty en- 
 gagement. That match was broken off, and Ellen 
 never saw him again. If Ellen had had a mother to 
 
WILD DAYRELL. 431 
 
 give lier advice, and to have " managed" Sir Arthur, 
 this might not have happened. It was hard that her 
 inexperience should have been so cruelly punished. 
 She was, after this, the life of many a circle in Italy 
 and France ; she laughed and prattled as of yore, 
 and the world voted her the same light-hearted girl. 
 But we remarked the change when we met her at a 
 bal masque in a box, with half-a-dozen hangers on 
 clustering round her. She was flirting first with 
 one and then another, even with poor Meekling, who 
 meant more than he could speak, and who was pre- 
 pared to go, not only to the altar (as he told us over 
 a cigar at 1.30 a.m.), but to the end of the world for 
 her, and though she was glad to see an old friend, 
 and had a playful remark ready for us, there was a 
 want of cordiality, arising, perhaps, from a fear that 
 her motives were understood, which made us turn 
 on our heels, and leaving her, feel apprehensive for 
 the future fate of Ellen Callister. 
 
 But destiny decreed otherwise. Her fate was 
 diff'erent to what we expected. We took up a sheet 
 of the Times some weeks ago ; our eye glanced down 
 the list of those summoned to a better world, we 
 read, " On the — inst., Ellen, the beloved daughter 
 of Colonel Callister, of fever, at Hyeres, South of 
 France." 
 
 FINIS. 
 
London : 
 
 Printed by Truscott, Son, & Simmons, 
 
 Suffolk Lane, City. 
 
 (j